My friend and I have been talking about pulling our kids from public school. Bangor is reportedly a great school district, with very high standards and the test scores to match. The Assistant Superintendent of Schools reminded me and my friend of this the other day when we met with her. So why would I want to remove my child from such a great school system? There are many reasons why I think about it for my two daughters, who are five and seven. I like some of what I see going on in their elementary school, but I wonder: how much more would homeschooling do for them? What would our days be like and would my girls flourish intellectually and creatively—would they turn out to be better people? What would a local cooperative school look like—could the murmurings of several friends, also considering homeschooling, actually turn into solid action? And what would push us over the edge to pull our kids out of school? Will they be just fine if we leave them where they are?
My friend and I met with the Assistant Superintendent of Bangor Schools, Donna Wolfram, because we are tired of seeing reams of worksheets in our children's school days. We didn't understand why there was a significant focus on spelling and grammar so early, why the elementary kids weren't learning foreign language yet, and why there was so little science and so few field trips. Ms. Wolfram had answers for all our questions. There is a new curriculum this year, and some of the teachers have “gone overboard” trying to squeeze in every worksheet that is suggested, she told us. This is not necessary, and she definitely sees the value in more hands-on learning. She told us they are working hard at bringing in more and more hands-on projects to each learning unit, but it is a new way of instruction for the teachers. Admittedly, it is more work. But, Ms. Wolfram agreed that integrating math principles into art or music or science makes perfect sense, of course. She called it “inquiry-based learning” and she appeared to be all for it. Apparently, the school board is working at bringing foreign language learning into the K-3 grades; they are working at ramping up the science in the younger grades too, by integrating it into the existing curriculum. When we asked about the focus grammar and spelling, Ms. Wolfram explained that before beginning a foreign language, children must first comprehend certain fundamentals of their native language. Some of these efforts to improve the curriculum are thwarted by budgetary problems or security issues, she said. Field trips have all but disappeared for the students of Abraham Lincoln. And bringing in special guests or instructors—scientists or artists or authors—presents real security issues for the schools.
My older daughter Zoe loves the routine of school, and she is a natural rule follower. Reading came very easily to her and she devours books. She is in second grade now, and has so far scored average or above average in all the tested categories. But she does not easily ask questions or engage in group discussions; she needs prodding. She does not readily ask for help if she is confused by a topic, and I can imagine her pretending to her teacher that she understands something better than she truly does—simply to not appear slow.
Zoe loves all of the “specials” as they call them in school—library, art, gym and music. But art is now given only every other week, and so far the music program at Abe Lincoln doesn't appear to be much more than singing seasonal songs and banging on the odd instrument. However, the school does have a stellar gym teacher. She has won state-wide awards for her innovative programs. Gym with Mrs. Poisson is so fun, the kids don't realize they're exercising. In her phys-ed program, she uses creative games, scooters, role-playing, and dancing to music even the veteran third-graders think is cool. The dancing isn't just random fooling around, either. The children learn specific dances and then get to show off their skills at the school-wide family dance night. Like all the kids, Zoe loves the school-wide events: the book fairs, the family dance night, movie night in the gym, the spring fair on the school grounds. Lilah, my younger daughter, is in the half-day Pre-Kindergarten program this year, and of course already loves the specials and extra school events too.
The girls both also love their teachers; they are additional authority figures and guides, separate from their parents. Zoe has had very good teachers so far at Abe Lincoln—and we parents all know who the “best teachers” are and try to get our children into their classes. By sometime luck and sometime request, Zoe has had among the best teachers. I have volunteered in nearly all of Zoe's classrooms, and this has given me a great chance to observe the teachers in action. This year, while I was directing a math game at a table in Zoe's classroom, I watched her teacher expertly move the students through several different activities within an hour: individual reading, reading to another student, small group discussion with her, math game with me, and ending with all the students in a circle. I was impressed at how orderly the students were, but also remembered something the Asst. Superintendent said about the teachers telling her they need more time in the school day; they simply don't have enough time to accomplish everything that is required. It was all very orderly, but was it also rushed?
But if I home-schooled, there would be plenty of time, right? I have heard it takes only a fraction—maybe one quarter—of the time to teach your child the same things they learn in a group setting in school. The individual attention I, or even someone else, could give my children has got to be at the top of the list of why I would take them out of public school. All the varied ideas on learning I have heard over the years have been bouncing around in my head lately—children excel best in small groups or with individual attention; peer settings can encourage children in learning; children may learn better from someone other than their parent. But these are all generalized ideas. I need to figure out what is best for my own situation, for my own children. What would homeschooling--let's say a cooperative school--look like in my life, for me and my kids?
Perhaps this summer, it would happen like this: there is a small group of us, five families, who together commit to try a cooperative school for a year. This only comes to fruition after many get-togethers and into the night discussions in the living rooms of each other's homes. Among us, there are degrees in english, math, natural science, music, and education. We all live in Bangor and our kids, ranging in age from four to nine, have attended Abe Lincoln. Some of us do not work for pay, some have part-time jobs. We agree that we need to find a space, a set of rooms for instruction and projects. Already, this is an additional cost—and of course we are still paying our taxes that support public school. (We are looking into a voucher program, but with all the recent budget cuts in education and the new Republican governor, we are not hopeful.) We find a suite of three rooms on the fourth floor of a Central St. building in downtown Bangor, the same building as a yoga studio, a fiber artist, and a violin maker. The smell of fresh baked bread from the Friar's bakery fills the stairwell. The windows of our small suite of rooms look out over the canal.
The cost of all of the supplies--the curriculum we agree on, the desks, the chalkboards and charts, the paint brushes, the rulers, the books, the shelves—are split among the families. But it is difficult to keep track precisely. Some families are simply donating items—a computer, nature books, a globe. We have chosen a curriculum that is theme-based. It meets all the state and federal requirements but is designed in such a way that encourages active application of principles, such as building projects to integrate math, science and art. With such a small group, we have the opportunity to work on these projects daily. Our suite of rooms begins to fill up with mini plywood and clay cities, leaf collections, original plays and stories, and homemade instruments.
We design a schedule that has the children in the school room for most mornings. There are always two parents in the classroom, the schedule rotates but one parent from each family must offer instruction or assistance for the same amount of time each week. The first two hours of the morning are for more or less formal instruction, review, and discussion of the week's theme. The introduction and explanation of principles leads into active application, but sometimes the hands-on project is simply the lesson itself. After the group lesson, some of the older children work on unfinished projects, individual reading, or music practice, and some of them help with the instruction of the younger children. The older kids become quite proud of their ability to read, practice penmanship, and introduce beginning math principles to the younger ones.
One week our theme is color and we need to cover the topics of measurement (focusing on fractions) and perspective. We discuss what we could build that would require measurement—what does our classroom need that would be interesting and fun to build? We decide on building art easels. First, we talk about how we will find out how to build an art easel—the library, the internet? Yes, both. But for this project, we agree that getting a blueprint for an easel on the internet is probably the best idea. We search together and print it out. We make a list of the building supplies and tools we will need. The list is divided and everyone has items to bring in for the next day. When all the supplies are gathered, the building begins. We measure and cut, drill, screw and nail. We talk about halves and quarters of the boards, and the number of nails. We draw on the boards with pencils to illustrate the fractions. We divide the piles of nails into thirds and fifths. The children clutch the hammers earnestly, and with help pound in the nails. Two crude but sturdy easels now stand by the windows of the classroom. Tomorrow we'll talk about perspective, in art and in writing. We'll draw vanishing roads and big foreground flowers on our new easels, mixing the paint ourselves and discussing which colors recede and which pop out at you, which colors are cool or warm and why. We will write autobiography, and biography. We may head down to the bakery and interview the bakers on how they started their successful business and then put it in our school newspaper, which we pass out among the tenants of our Central St. building. When we go down for a sewing class in the afternoon, with the fiber artist on the third floor, we'll ask her for a little of her life story too.
In the afternoons, me and my girls have the freedom to choose what we do. We can engage in something fun and exploratory, or active. As a cooperative school, we join with other homeschool groups for weekly sports sessions at the Bangor Rec Center. These are in the afternoons, as are outings to the Maine Discovery Museum, the UMaine Art Museum, the Bangor Library, and the Fields Pond Nature Center. The local homeschool network is strong, with a lot of religious-based groups. Whatever the reason for homeschooling, however, we discover that we can learn a lot from those who have been doing this for a while. We discuss schedules and local activities with other homeschooling families. We ask around about the feasibility of hiring a native-speaking foreign language instructor.
It is a lot of work. This endeavor requires a lot more time, money and energy than dropping your child off at school every day. I can sense all us all asking ourselves weekly: is it worth it? Are we giving them a better education than they would get in public school, and can we maintain this project? What if a family or two decides to drop out? Then the cost per family would rise significantly. We removed our children from public school because we had the interest and momentum of a large enough, skilled enough, set of families. None of our children were in crisis in a public school setting. We simply thought that we could do better.
My own girls love the uniqueness of this small, special school at the moment, but it has only been a few months. It is difficult for them when they encounter former school friends—at a dance class or playground—and hear about what's going on at their old school. But the children are clearly thriving with more individual attention, more integrated learning that is active and creative, and more freedom to pursue their own interests. We will continue, at least for the full year. Perhaps we will gain more families and expand a little. We will learn more as we go along.
But how do we assess our progress at the end of the year? Surely not simply by standardized test scores. That should be the minimum standard, if even that. The real measure must be the growth of our children's minds, their character, their resourcefulness, their spirits. It would be so much easier if there was “a test” for those qualities of personhood, but it looks like we as parents will just have to use our own standard of humanity to judge the progress of our children.
