Teaching Other People’s Children

I never planned to teach children. At different points as a kid, I wanted to be an archaeologist,  an astronaut, a brain surgeon, and a social worker (although I didn’t know what they did). So naturally, I spent college as an English major. My inner scientist emerged a few years later, and I found myself as a Physician Assistant with an inkling that writing professionally and teaching in a PA program would come later.

It’s eighteen years later, and I write for free, don’t teach at the Univeristy level, and do teach children, my own and Other People’s Children. Oh, and I still practice as a PA. Of all those, it’s teaching other people’s children that’s stretched me the furthest and taught me the most.

My movement into the education of offspring other than my own (beyond a bit of Sunday School) started four years back, beginning what is now known as MacLeod Biology or Quarks and Quirks Biology.My older son, then 12, was ready for high-school level biology, and I had a history of flaking out on labs and formal science study. His buddy, another gifted kid, needed Biology as well. I knew I’d not flake with two, so after a summer of reviewing biology books, chatting with my biology professor of a father, and making then unmaking plans, I started teaching my two charges.

I’ve not looked back. Teaching someone else’s child increased my follow-through as well as my drive to find supporting materials for classes and labs. I did, after all, have two hours once a week to fill, and being responsible for the education of another’s offspring brought out the more responsible  me. I kept a list of labs, videos, assignments, and readings on a website, thus (ideally) fostering some independence on their part as well as a record of what we’d done.

Delighted with our success, the boys and I moved on to high school level chemistry. I was nervous. Where biology offered the comfort of the familiar, chemistry brought the promise of review. My chemistry over 20 years old, dusted off only in the context of medicine and revisited only lightly as a homeschooling parent of children under the age of 13. I expected a rough time of it and was surprised how quickly the material returned. My son and his friend brought enthusiasm for the subject matter. I brought the discipline that comes with maturity and far better discernment when working with fire and potentially hazardous materials. They distilled spirits, made black powder (not an official lab, but safely done), and regularly reviewed lab safety while learning an impressive amount of Chemistry. As a teacher, I honed my test design skills and learned when to stretch my students. It was a fabulous year.

Last year, without a science to teach (having drawn the line at physics), I taught six weeks of bioethics and team taught six weeks of research paper writing. With a group of ten, classroom management issues appeared. Faced with a spectrum of skills and experience, I was stretched further than previously to make a concept clear in several different ways for the varying learning styles of my students. When teaching them to write a research paper, I learned to discard global expectations and simply work with each student individually, attempting to improve a few skills during our six weeks of writing.

The lessons learned with those students led me to start teaching writing one-on-one this school year. Most of my writing students are profoundly gifted, and some also have a learning disability. Familiarity with my home-grown versions of twice exceptionality gave me only a hint of how to start approaching other people’s children with similar challenges. The first weeks or even months with each student can be littered with my missteps and mid-course corrections, and patient parents, tired from the battle, become my allies as we pick our way through the labyrinth of their children’s complicated minds. Generally, we find a way through, a pace that works for the family, and perhaps even a bit of rhythm.

Teaching writing to other people’s children informed my work with my own sons’ writing. As one who loves to write, my older son’s writing challenges and resistance have frustrated me. After teaching other people’s children,  I began to think differently about the process of teaching him to write. I now work with him through Google Docs, making notes in the margin and through the text, just as I do with my distance students. This seems a bit less personal than red marks all over a paper. It provides some distance we both need, which helps both of us.

This year also found me teaching physics and physical science. Both boys needed the material, and both had a friend or two also in need. My one and only physics class was 25 years back, but, alas, several of the topics we’re covering were not in that semester of coursework (electricity seemed to be a second semester offering, for example). It’s work. Hard work at times, explaining what I’ve just only figured out. But teaching as I’m learning drives me to reach deeper understanding faster than if I were learning the material on my own. Additionally, I’ve become more familiar with the workings of the universe. More of the world makes sense, and that delights me.

Teaching other people’s children offers an opportunity to share what you love, to hone a skill that’s been dormant, or to learn new material, even the type that scares you. It broadens your appreciation for the differences between kids and between homeschooling families. It can even help you educate your own children more effectively, if you can bring the patience cultivated from that experience back home. That’s the benefit the whole family can appreciate.

Developing Yourself: Planning for Post-Homeschooling Life

What are your plans for yourself after you’re done homeschooling? Are you returning to your old career, searching for a new path, or feeling completely uncertain? What do you do to develop yourself while educating your children? Join the conversation.

In an online group I frequent, a mom recently asked what other parents did to assure they would have a life past homeschooling. It’s a pressing question for many of us who have suspended or altered careers to develop our young. Many homeschooling parents leave careers to tend to their children’s needs that are unmet in school, while others educate at home because they see homeschooling as a natural extension of parenting that is worth pushing the pause button on a career. They leave jobs in law, medicine, engineering, academia, and more, jobs preceded by years of (expensive) education and training. Many, including myself, never planned on leaving the workplace after having children, at least not for more than a few months. And many never dreamed of homeschooling at all.

I planned to work. After an undergraduate degree in English, I earned a Masters of Science as a physician assistant. I married, went to work full-time in family practice, and some years later, had a child. After four (long) months off, I returned to part-time work at the same clinic, stopping again four years later after my second was born. Chance, choice, and circumstance, as well as a seat on a corporate step stool while my then husband was climbing the corporate ladder led me to stay home full-time  A year later, three years before I started homeschooling, I returned very part-time to a PA position some Saturdays. I’ve maintained that position for over ten years. My younger son wasn’t the type to be left with anyone, and neither my then husband nor I wanted to return to the push-pull that comes with two demanding jobs and kids who become ill at daycare when Mom has three rooms full of patients and Dad is in a meeting.

I’m a bit restless by nature, and staying home with two young children didn’t come naturally to me. I soon became a La Leche League leader, which gave me a chance to use my diagnostic acumen in another way, helping moms troubleshoot when breastfeeding didn’t come easily. As well as stimulating my mind and helping me keep some rudimentary social skills, it provided something for me to do that worked with my job as Mom and gave me more sense of purpose. No, I’m not the type who reveled in the stay-at-home mom job. I missed adult contact, and this volunteer work gave me that while making me feel useful to adults. It kept me sane.

Nine years ago, my older son came home to learn, finding little intellectual stimulation in the gifted second grade classroom he’d attended, which, ironically, overloaded his sensory circuits quite handily. I’d done my research, connected with others, read everything I could, and dove in. It became my job. I loved lesson planning each weekend, and I perused catalogues and websites too often, seeking for whatever might be the best. Being a homeschooling mom became a large part of my identity, although my sometimes-PA work and often-La Leche League work remained parts of who I was, too.

I’d like to say I planned it that way, always maintaining more to my life than homeschooling my children. I didn’t. I worked because the job fell in my lap, although I’ve long been grateful to have that opportunity to maintain my skills in a career I still enjoy. I went to LLL because I was having breastfeeding problems (we worked them out) and was soon asked to apply for leadership. Keeping my world bigger than my boys was accidental rather than wise, but I’ve reaped the benefits anyway.

Somewhere in the last nine years, I became more intentional about my pursuits. I still take phone calls from nursing moms and work in family practice some Saturdays, but three to four years back, I started to write. I started one blog, Finding My Ground, where I explored the questions life was raising while dusting off the skill I’d honed in undergrad, although this time in personal form. A year later, I started this blog as a way to share my journey homeschooling separately from my personal walk through life. Something had changed.

Actually, a lot changed. I was homeschooling two twice-exceptional kids. I’d left the religion of my youth. I was separated and nearing divorce. My role at spouse had finally died after a prolonged, painful illness. I was, as corny as it sounds, looking for who I was outside of all that. I started teaching another person’s child along with my own biology followed by chemistry. I wrote more and learned to knit. With my boys, I started fostering cats from the Humane Society (there isn’t much volunteer work available for young children).  I found a Unitarian Universalist church that worked for my boys, and I and took an active role within in. I taught more kids who were not my own, which led to me finding the gumption to ask for pay for that work rather than volunteering. I became a writing instructor.

I found more of me. In the volunteer work, the writing and knitting, the new business, the old career, and the search for meaning, I found more and more of me. No, doing isn’t being, but doing can help one figure out just who one is and how one fits in the world. I was driven somewhat by the passage of time. The boys keep getting bigger and more independent. Mostly. One takes college courses. The other cooks for himself and reminds me often that he can do it all himself. They aren’t getting any younger.

So I’ve worked under the assumption that they’ll leave at some point. At times that unnerves me a bit, because I don’t have the full picture of what I’ll do then and because they still must just be seven and three. I don’t think I want to return to full-time PA work. I’m not sure I want to teach in a PA program, a goal I’d held when I started work almost 20 years back. I’m pretty sure I can’t make a living writing, even if I start submitting more than one article a year. I don’t know how I’ll feel about teaching writing in six and a half years, when my younger will be an adult. There’s time to figure that out.

Developing oneself benefits one’s children. My boys have watched me pursue my interests, give my time to others, start a small business, go into the office, study for re-certification exams, work in our church, and otherwise do things that aren’t all about them. While I occasionally sing a chorus or two of, “Mom’s a person, too,” my pursuits in the world clearly show that to them. They know they are valued. They know they are home because it’s the best option and something we usually enjoy. And they know I am someone  – an individual — in addition to the amazing job of being their mom and educational coordinator. There is value in that, this teaching our kids that we are part of the world which we’re sending them into.

After reading through the online thread on how to plan for life after homeschooling, I was astounded by the paths of others. Some had changed careers. Others were fostering pre-homeschooling or pre-child careers.  Several volunteered. A few returned to school to launch new careers. Many followed passions that had developed in the course of homeschooling their children.  And some were scared and struggling, unsure of what would happen when the kids left home. The question of self-development was on everyone’s mind.

We return home or start at home for our children. Sometimes we find we like it better this way. Sometimes we just do it because we’re out of other acceptable options. However we start, at some point our job ends. We work with an aim to put ourselves out of business. So if you’ve not already, join me in developing yourself. Learn a new skill. Volunteer. Take a class. Follow a passion. Someday you’ll be forced into retirement as a homeschooling parent. Prepare, and enjoy the process.

Writing Lessons: Write What You Like

Writing Lessons is an occasional series about teaching writing. 

I’ve been teaching/coaching/tutoring writing for the past three months. I have five students in my charge, ranging from age 9 to age 15 and from 3 to 3,000 miles away. We communicate via Google Hangout and email. All my students could be characterized as reluctant writers, or at least not the enthusiastic type who loves to spend hours at the computer turning ideas into words on the page. But all are writing, and some are surprised to find out they enjoy it. I’m learning as I go, and I couldn’t be more pleased.

I know I’ve learned this: when possible, let them choose the topic. Let them write about what they like. While this seems obvious for the youngest writers, it’s easy to assume that the older writer should be writing about whatever topic is presented. Certainly that’s a skill necessary for academic and, often, professional success. I’ve never been asked at work if I wanted to write a note on a patient I’ve just seen or if I’d rather pick another subject. It’s not an option — for some reason, the family practice that employs me prefers me write about the medical encounter and not home schooling, Unitarian Universalism, or matters of the heart, all preferable topics. College was no different. The subject was given or was at least constrained.

But for young writers, especially the reluctant ones, let them write about what they like. I’ve received paragraphs about cats, essays about Minecraft, and stories about monsters. Each student’s first assignment was to introduce himself or herself, which provided me with both a writing sample, and per my instructions, a list of topics one would find not too painful writing fodder. Armed with lists including pets, video games, space, nanotechnology,the hate of writing, and more, I began to give assignments. Within days, my inbox contained with pieces about cats. A few weeks later, it was Minecraft. While I share an affection for felines, I’m not so enamored with Minecraft, a game my children talk about at length. But no matter. The kids were writing, and writing fairly well.

Cats and video games lend themselves to a variety of formal and informal writing. Cats can be described in appearance (descriptive writing).  They can be given a voice (point of view). A pair of cats lend themselves to comparison and contrast. One can even give directions about how play with a cat. And while research is not yet on everyone’s assignment lists, I’m sure cats will serve well there, too. I can easily see persuasive essays about cat ownership or declawing. Creative writers can write about cats, too: I’ve read more than one student-produced cat-centered story, and my younger son is deeply writing his second cat novel. Cats, for some kids, work as interesting, comfortable writing material.

Minecraft (and any video game would work) lends itself to the same treatment. Writers can describe the creatures within the game and give instructions on dealing with those creatures without getting killed. A recent young writer drafted a fine essay extolling the virtues of relying on player-created videos to improve one’s game play. While it’s not a topic I’d have ever chosen as a writer or a teacher, it interested him. The writing technique we were honing was unity, and this could be accomplished with any subject. Doing it with one within his comfort zone made that a bit more enjoyable.

Writing about one’s own interests has a few benefits. First, it’s easier to pay attention to what interests one. Personally, I’d rather write about homeschooling or twice-exceptional education than about fluctuating corn prices or how to roast a pig. Just like me, when students choose their writing topics, they stay engaged and are often more eager to write (or less heavily resistant, which is on the spectrum of eager, right?). A reduction in the pain factor is always a plus.

Writing about what interests one can make a long assignment more bearable. When team-teaching a group of high-schoolers through a research paper, my teaching partner and I encouraged them to pick a topic with care since they’d be living intimately with it for a couple of months. Liking it makes that a more pleasant time. While most of the kids were thoroughly tired of the writing process by the end of six weeks, they were still generally interested in their topics.

Additionally, writing is a fine process for organizing previously learned information in new ways. Writing about a passion is far from just a recitation of what’s previously been learned. It’s a chance to categorize and recategorize what’s already been learned. New relationships are revealed, which can make one consider one’s cat or video game in a different light. A martial art studied for years becomes more sharply defined when held against a different martial art — what was taken for granted is somehow now new and different. These higher-order thinking skills can blossom through writing about the utterly familiar and ordinary.

Finally, when the subject is familiar and comfortable, the focus can be on the writing process rather than wrestling with new information about a subject. In the comfort of a student’s knowledge of his two cats, he or she can focus on the structure of a comparison and contrast essay about those beloved creatures. With the subject matter previously internalized, what to say is not as problematic, and the attention can go into how to say it. Experimenting with metaphorical language is easier when the objects for comparison are familiar, and learning to write an instructive piece is easier if the process being written about is familiar to the writer.

There will be plenty of times when a young writer doesn’t have a choice about the writing topic, but especially for young writers and resistant writers, turning over topic selection to the writer can make the project easier and more enjoyable for both learner and teacher. As many a homeschooling parent knows, writing can be hard enough to teach as it is. Give yourself a break. Whatever the next writing skill on the learning list is, try turning the topic selection entirely over to your child while focusing on teaching the techniques the child needs to know. If that turns into short stories about fairies, expository essays about black holes, or persuasive pieces about the benefits of video gaming for kids, so be it.  You might even catch your young writer smiling.

Composition Choices: Michael Clay Thompson

Previously, I’ve reviewed MCT’s first three levels of language arts materials (General, Grammar and Poetics, Vocabulary and Composition)  and the first composition book for the fourth level (Advanced Academic Writing I). While the grammar, vocabulary, and poetics books at each level work well together, the corresponding composition books tend to be beyond the reach of many young, gifted kids. As I’ve begun to tutor young writers, discussing what level of MCT composition is appropriate has come up more than once. Here are some thoughts on making a selection. 

Michael Clay Thompson breathes life into language arts instruction. With six levels of materials covering grammar, vocabulary, composition, poetics, and literature, he seamlessly integrates those elements of the English language in a manner that assumes his readers are intelligent, active learners. These are not workbooks for self-study — they are texts best explored with a teacher or guide. While the composition books could be used without the rest of the books in the corresponding level, the learner would need a strong grasp of grammar to truly take advantage of what they have to offer and an understanding of MCT’s four-level approach to grammar. (Take home message — if you’re using a composition book, purchase that level of grammar or higher to use with it.)

All his books within a level are integrated, each rooted heavily in the corresponding grammar book and somewhat less on the vocabulary book.  For many young gifted learners this presents a dilemma — what a level child is able to manage in grammar, vocabulary and poetics reaches a level or often more above what works for composition for the child. Therefore, it’s not uncommon for a child to be ready for the fourth level of grammar and vocabulary but still be working on the second level of composition. No need to worry, however, as that difference works quite well.

Sentence Island: This is a fine start for the beginning young writer. While the content is applicable to writers of all levels, it has a young feel, which would likely be off-putting to the upper elementary or older learner (over age 10, perhaps, depending on the child). This book teaches writing beyond the sentence and demands understanding of the grammar taught in the corresponding level. For my younger son, it was too demanding (unless I scribed for him) until he was about nine, at which point, he was finishing the Voyage (third) level of everything else. This worked well for my (then) reluctant writer, and I was glad we waited. (Only the Teacher Manual is necessary when using this at home.)

Paragraph Town: The second writing book of the MCT series takes the writer through the story of two ducks, Fishmeal and Queequack, as Fishmeal seeks knowledge about the paragraph. The story nature of the book makes it better suited for younger users, but the material is so worthwhile, I’d encourage the reluctant but somewhat older writer to read through the story and work through the exercises (which are fine for any age). Even experienced writers can benefit from the thorough treatment of the paragraph in this fine text. There’s quite a bit here. Resist the urge to fly through, and take time to assure the lessons are absorbed and sufficient practice occurs. (Again, only the Teacher Manual is necessary for home use.)

Essay Voyage: This text makes a big leap from Paragraph Town in style and content. Gone is the story form of teaching. Instead, MCT breaks essay writing tasks into ten chapters, covering such topics as structure, formality,  content, conclusion, and even correct citations and use of quotations. Each element of writing is clearly taught, complete with examples. Most chapters offer a list of options including research and reflections on readings. Gradually, essays are included in the options, and by the end, essays with quotations are expected. It’s a steep set of expectations that, if met, would lead to developing quite strong writing skills that certainly would prepare a learner for high school and exceed what many can do before heading to college.

The essay examples range from the lighthearted to the quite difficult, including a selection from the Federalist Papers and the Narrative of Frederick Douglass, just to name two. This represents a challenge when using the book with a younger learner who just may not related to the content of the essays for examination. For the younger child, moving directly from Paragraph Town, with its more gentle approach and easy reading material, to Essay Voyage may not be advisable. If in doubt, wait, working longer with the earlier book or supplementing with other materials. (As with the other books at this level, only the TM is necessary.)
Advanced Academic Writing I: The fourth book (reviewed here) continues where the third left off, using literature as a starting point for writing with quotations and, new to this level, paraphrasing with citations. While sound in content, the tone is harsh. Yes, writers should be held to high standards in form and content, but this volume is a bit punishing for my taste, at least on the grading front. in my opinion, his focus on grading interferes with the material taught. One could certainly soften that approach and ignore the rubric MCT presents, but a large portion of the book is based on meeting this demands.
This is not a tome for the younger gifted writer, and it is a leap beyond the previous level, Essay Voyage. The first assignment requires writing about literature,  a difficult task for any writer (and the gifted child may be at this fourth level at 10 or even earlier). While there is fine writing advice given here, I’ve chosen other paths to teaching this level of composition. (This book is best used with both the student text and TM. MCT offers a second and third level of Advanced Academic Writing, which I’ve yet to explore.)

Michael Clay Thompson offers a fine introduction to essay writing, starting at the level of the sentence. The young writer will likely need a slower progression through the writing portion of the MCT books, and the guide above may help one find the right pace to start. Remember, MCT’s composition books are targeted toward academic essays and papers, not fiction or other genre. While I’m of the thought that teaching this more formal writing should be the first priority when teaching children to write, there is value in adding other creative components to a writing curriculum, especially for children craving that sort of writing outlet. Whatever type of writing a learner prefers, however, the material taught in his first three composition books will form a solid base of writing skills that would serve writers of any genre.

As with all my reviews, I’ve received no compensation in materials or otherwise for this review. 

Summer Break?

I’ve moved past the “Whew! It’s over!” stage that began Memorial Day weekend. The first few weeks of summer, I luxuriated in my new freedom from coaxing kids through assignments and planning lessons. Then I started to approach a few of those nagging projects: the doors that needed painting, the mounds of paperwork on my desk, and church committee work. Once the fun of all that wore off (yes, there are still more doors needing a coat of paint), I moved on to start preparations for fall. No, they aren’t complete. No, I don’t know exactly what each subject will look like for my kids (although here’s my guess for my older and my younger). Specifically, I have two new projects (and another hatching project) that keep me occupied and occasionally stressed during these hot and hazy days of summer.

As mentioned in my preliminary plans for my older son, I’m teaching Physics this fall. No one could be more surprised than I. Biology was my first foray into planning and executing a lab science course for more than just my own child, and I had fun. It is my domain, scientifically, and I thoroughly enjoy the exploration of the living science and sharing that exploration with others.

Chemistry was the logical next step, and I felt some trepidation planning that one. My last Chemistry class was two decades earlier, and while I understood the basics of the science, I didn’t have the same passion about it. But my son and his friend had an enormous amount of excitement about the course, which promised dangerous chemicals, controlled explosions, and liberal use of flames. Their excitement was contagious and made planning easier.

But after Chemistry, I swore I was done. No Physics, I told them and myself. And last year, my older took a year off from lab science, instead doing a Meteorology and Earth Science study while I focused my energy on subjects other than science.

But Physics was due. With nine other credits at a local University scheduled for my older son this fall, I knew college-level physics at the same institution would be overwhelming. I also knew we’d both fare better if his Physics study included someone other than just him. Science is collaborative, and bouncing ideas off of lab partners mirrors the intra-lab confabs that occur in professional science. Plus, I’m more consistently prepared when my audience extends beyond my offspring. (Call me a bad mom, but it’s true.)

So mid-August, I’ll begin an Algebra-based Physics course for four high schoolers, ranging from 14 to 17 years old. We’ll meet weekly for three hours or so, spending time on assignment review, lecture, and labs. Once a month, more or less, another dedicated homeschooling parent will make the class sing, encouraging experiment design and implementation with plenty of support and wisdom. With a true love for Physics, he’ll provide the heart for the science that I find a tad intimidating. I’m grateful beyond words.

As the lesson plans unfold, I’ll add them to a page on the top of this blog. This may not happen every week, so if you’re interested, visit Don’t Touch the Photons for the most up-to-date lesson and links. Keeping a webpage for a class keeps crucial information about assignments in the hands of students and forces me to plan ahead, which are both convincing reasons for me to make the effort.

My other summer endeavor falls well within my comfort zone. I’m offering writing coaching/tutoring to a handful of students. A few are local, but most are scattered around the country. While I’ll rely somewhat on Michael Clay Thompson’s Paragraph Town and Essay Voyage, I’ll likely create my own materials based on the needs the kids present. For some students, I’ll be planning a course and carrying it out, available via email and Google Hangout (a Skype-like setting where documents can be shared and marked up together). For others, I’m assisting on a project assigned by someone else. I’m quite excited as I start this journey, anticipating steep learning curve for me while hopefully delighting in the growth of young writers.

My own writing projects often takes a back seat, and this summer proves to be no exception. This is avoidance, of course, and a fear of starting without the whole picture in front of me. I have a few larger projects in mind (read: books that want out of my head), including one that would likely spring in one direction or another from my writing here. I see some holes in the books available for homeschooling families, and I’d like to try to fill one. If that sounds vague, it’s because it is still fuzzy to me. I’m not sure what I’m waiting to have happen — what moment of clarity I await  – but I seem to be in a holding pattern.

As I watch myself procrastinate, I understand my children a bit better. Their stalling and occasional downright opposition to assignments (often the writing sort) stems from a similar place. Both admit to fears about starting when the whole project isn’t clearly in mind. Both suffer the sort of perfectionism that makes task initiation difficult or even impossible. I’m open about my own “stuck” times, sharing what worries me when I can’t start and what, if anything, I find to help me along.  And that, perhaps, is a perpetual fourth project: better understanding my children. The stakes feel high, but the timeline is long.

There’s plenty to do this summer. Along with two definitive projects, one incubating work (with duct tape on the egg as a precautionary action to ward off failure), and a lifelong quest, there are vacations to take, friends to see, gardens to tend, books to read, and clouds to watch. And those other doors? They’re not looking that bad after all.

Review: Advanced Academic Writing, Volume I (Michael Clay Thompson)

I’m committed to raising strong writers. For parts of my boys’ lives, they’ve been committed to not writing. I managed to cultivate enough patience accommodate this reluctance, scribing until they could type well and exposing them to plenty of fine writing along the way. We tried a few writing programs, but they largely felt formulaic and focused heavily on creative writing, which did not please my older son, who eventually broke through the writing wall with an online course.

A year or so later, we started using Michael Clay Thompson’s Language Arts materials from Royal Fireworks Press. (I’ve reviewed the Elementary resources here:  MCT Overview, Grammar and Poetics, Vocabulary and Composition ) Both my sons moved quickly and happily through the grammar and vocabulary books. Given their writing reluctance, we always lagged behind on the writing portion of the series, generally working a level behind on the writing end of the curriculum. This is a common solution for many using the series with younger children. The output required for the writing books far outpaces what many young children can manage, so many families just adjust accordingly.

Advanced Academic Writing, Volume 1 (AAW 1) is the first of the MCT writing Middle/Secondary writing series. It’s a serious tome designed to teach a learner how to write an MLA-style academic essay or research paper. It’s designed to be used with Magic Lens 1 (grammar) and Word Within a Word 1(vocabulary), which are also far more serious and demanding books than their predecessors. Like with the elementary series, I’ve found that while that at this level, the grammar and vocabulary books are accessible to my kids, the writing program is a giant leap above them. Admittedly, I’m using the books early for my younger (WWW 1 and ML 1 for 5th grade), and the asynchrony of gifted children often results in a delay on the product end of the learning equation. But even as we approach the second level of the secondary grammar and vocabulary, I know he’s not nearly ready for Advanced Academic Writing I.

Like Essay Voyage, the third writing text in the elementary trio, AAW 1 focuses on formal diction and prose and third-person writing. Advanced Academic Writing continues where Essay Voyage, the last volume of the elementary series, leaves off. While the other portions of the MCT language arts curriculum have a spiral element built-in, allowing a learner to enter at about any level, the writing portion is far more linear.  While a high school student could begin the rest of the middle/secondary series and be able to work through the series successfully, AAW 1 relies heavily on the material from  Essay Voyage, where the principles of a well-crafted essay are explicitly taught. This isn’t a problem if a student is well-schooled in writing an academic essay, but many students simply aren’t.

Advanced Academic Writing 1 begins with a fifty-odd page writing guide that briefly covers the mechanics of writing an academic essay or short research paper. After covering standard proofreading marks, MLA rules regarding form and style, and quotations, Thompson gives an example of a paper fitting his criteria with a few proofreading marks thrown in as examples. The paper is heavy on long quotes for it’s three page length, but it’s point is to illustrate form, formality, and adherence to the thesis. The samples in the book are all short, as are the assignments. Thompson is looking for perfecting each part of smaller works — learning correct form. I agree with the philosophy of several shorter assignments with the aim of learning the form. It’s a more efficient and less overwhelming way to learn the intricate process of academic writing. (When I co-taught a research paper class, this point was driven home to me. We assigned a paper three to four times the length MCT suggests, and the students were rather overwhelmed. Lesson learned.)

The guide continues with word usage and punctuation guides along with a few examples of papers with errors. These lists are concise and easy to use, limited to a few pages each and accessible for the grammar-savvy user. What follows is less concise: nearly twenty pages of what he calls “core-element grading.” It’s at this where I disagree with MCT. His grading method starts with correct use of the English language, then moves to MLA format, correct essay structure, and, finally, the meaningfulness of the idea itself. In short, if the first item isn’t present (proper English) the paper can receive a grade no higher than a D with mastery (in order) of the following elements to achieve a C, B, or A. In short, a paper with an excellent thesis that is well-supported with excellent command of the English language can receive no more than a C if MLA formatting is incorrect. Form before function, I suppose.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m a stickler about form and proper use of the English language. But I can’t agree with putting the quality and support of the thesis last. Kids develop their writing ability unevenly, and this one penalizes those who lag on the details but excel in content. Certainly the whole grading system could be dismissed. As homeschoolers, we regularly dismiss what does not fit our needs. However, the focus on errors in the first three categories continues throughout the book, and while the examples are helpful, I’d rather see far more focus on creating effective essays.

Four assignments make up the second half of the book, each with word lists from Word Within the Word 1, hints about word choice, a sentence from 4Practice 1, a sample paper with a few pages of comments (positive and negative) addressing the elements listed above, and, for two of the assignments, a writing lesson (organization and outlining; proper citation). Finally, the assignment is given. Thompson is painstakingly clear regarding expectations for each paper, although he leaves plenty of room for choice on the subject of each essay. His assignments each have a specific purpose, which he makes clear as well. Students are asked to write each of the following:

• An interpretation of fiction using a single source
• An essay citing multiple sources
• An essay on a revolutionary character
• An essay on an abstract concept

These choices leave plenty of room for a student to follow an interest or for a parent or teacher to shape into an assignment that intersects with other material being taught.

So how much did we use Advanced Academic Writing, Volume 1? Not much. The first few sections intimidated my older son, who was a ninth grader by age and still very reluctant to write. He can write quite well but tends to panic easily. The tone of this book was panic-inducing for him, and I quickly set it aside. He has written two fine research papers since then, both using many of the concepts Thompson teaches but with less demanding assignments. My younger is an astonishingly fine writer at ten would be unable to handle many of the assignments now. Interpretation of fiction is a task that flummoxes many an older teen, and his other assignments simply aren’t yet accessible to him. So for now, I rely on Essay Voyage and, for the most part, my own writing knowledge. It’s likely the homeschooler in me, but I’m far more intent on keeping writing from being hated and focusing on continuous improvement than letter-grading my kids’ work. I can see where this book would be a fine addition to an honors-level high school class, but it’s not for the reluctant writer or most younger children ready for the content he provides for grammar and vocabulary at this level.

So for now, Advanced Academic Writing, Volume 1, will continue to sit on my shelf. It may be a fine match for my younger son a few years from now. He’s a strong writer, and he’s less likely to be intimidated by the tone and content of this book. My older, however, needs a gentler, kinder path to mastering academic writing. What that is, I don’t quite know, but I’ll share our journey here when I work that out.

How to Write a Research Paper in Six (Really Five) Weeks

For a syllabus for the course and notes about the process, see the Research Paper Class page.

We’re done.  It’s been a grueling six (okay, really five) weeks since a writing-savvy friend and I launched eight homeschooled high schoolers on their research papers — the first for all but one.  Aged fourteen though seventeen, they muddled their way through topic selection, research and note taking, outline creation, two drafts, and one final copy about a subject of their choosing.  They worked hard, and they learned writing skills, MLA style, and perseverance.

Both aged a wee bit older, my comrade in torture patient instruction and I worked kids through crises, wielded pencils with moderate restraint (red ink was just too harsh), and bit our lips through it all.  

NanoWriMo III.V: E-book Achieved

(Part I details how the process of writing began.  Part II and III recount the editing and publishing process.)

After posting that the process of turning my son’s  novel from NaNoWriMo 2011 into an e-book was either too pricey (via CreateSpace) or too much labor on my part, I took an hour and a half yesterday morning and got the job done.  Almost all of that time was spent reformatting, which is tedious work, but it’s done.  Only hours later, Grand River Hotel became available in Kindle edition, available to borrow for Amazon Prime members or for purchase for $0.99.  Kindle Direct Publishing lacks some of the hand-holding that CreateSpace does, but it is still an easy way to move a printed work to market quickly and for my favorite price — free.

Will his book become the next best-seller in children’s fiction?  No, and that’s not the point.  It’s powerful to see your name in print, to hold a volume of your work in your hands. It reinforces that thoughts and ideas can become a reality, even if in a small way.  It’s proof that hard work can yield tangible results.  And the process has been a learning opportunity for both of us:  he’s learned to polish a work, and I’ve learned how to navigate a bit of the self-publishing world.  The fruits of these labors reach far beyond this first book.

NaNoWriMo, Part II

(Part I explains how my reluctant writer turned novelist.  Part III and III.V cover the sometimes painful editing and publishing process.)

November 30th came and went without much fanfare.  My younger son met his 10,000 word goal for National Novel Writing Month’s Young Writer’s Program on the 29th, so we’d hoorayed and back-patted a day earlier.  It was the 30th when he actually finished his story, which turned out to be 11,007 words.  We cheered that accomplishment, too, but meeting his word and being declared a winner on the site was the joy of the 29th.

What to do next?

Review: Michael C. Thompson Language Arts (Vocabulary and Composition)

This is the third in a series of reviews on the first three levels of Michael Clay Thompson’s language arts series published by Royal Fireworks Press.  The first review is an overview of the elementary program, and the second focuses on the grammar and poetics books.  In this portion, I’ll discuss the vocabulary and composition volumes.

Building Language, the first of the MCT vocabulary books, gently introduces the learner to the Latin roots of English using the extended metaphor of an arch, with Latin stems standing in for blocks of the arch.  Ancient Roman history suffuses the three levels, starting with the architecture reference in Building Language and, in the next two books,  stretching to selections from Julius Caesar’s Commentaries  on the Galllic Wars and the works of Shakespeare.   The first level formally introduces just 10 stems, with another handful informally added along the way.  Each stem takes on a voice suiting it’s meaning, and the stems converse in their roles as the book progresses.  Words containing the stems, some familiar and some more advanced, increase vocabulary while advancing the main idea:  parts of words mean something, making many words decodable if you know the parts.

The next two levels, Caesar’s English I and II, each twenty chapters long, increase the intensity, introducing either five new words or five new stems in each chapter.  The vocabulary far outpaces typical late elementary (and often middle school) fare.  Discussion of the stems and words includes numerous references to classic works of literature, many that require some discussion for fuller understanding.  Again, these books are meant to be taught and discussed, not independently absorbed.  In our home, my older son and I spend a session reading the chapter, discussing the words and stems, completing the analogies, and reading any additional information in the lesson.  He’s responsible for studying the week’s new material and all previous material before the end of the week, when I quiz him orally.  Quizzes and answers to all analogies in the text are found at the back of the teacher’s edition of the book (which is the only version we buy), and all quizzes are cumulative.  I encourage him to judiciously use new vocabulary words in his writing, and he’s quick to point out their presence in his reading.  Thompson chose words for this series with care, focusing on the vocabulary of the classics.  And his research is spot on.  My older son mentions when he finds these words in his readings,and that’s quite satisfying to both of us.

Grammar finds its way into the vocabulary books as well, and noun, adjective, verb, and adverb forms of new vocabulary words are illustrated in each chapter of  Caesar’s English I and II.  In each of the twenty chapters, a sentence for four-level analysis zeroes in on one of the words, continuing grammar practice and stretching vocabulary further.  These books bear no resemblance to my childhood vocabulary workbooks and rival the other root-based  programs we’ve used in previous years.  These books put vocabulary into the context of literature and composition, stressing proper usage as well as highlighting unusual ways literary masters have used these words.  Thompson gives vocabulary a seat of honor at the language table, a seat it justly deserves.

In the teacher’s edition of Sentence Island is an assignment to discuss these quotes:  ”The adverb is not your friend” (Stephen King) and   “If you see and adjective, kill it.” (Mark Twain).  What a departure from my early writing education, where  we were encouraged  to add adjectives and adverbs to adorn our writing.  Several well-known homeschooling writing curricula rely on these parts of speech to improve writing, but books by authors for aspiring authors state contrary advice:  use precise nouns and strong verbs, which trumps stack of adjectives and adverbs.  Thompson’s emphasis on word choice begins from the start of his writing volumes, supported by a rigorous vocabulary program.  Use a precise verb or noun, and create a stronger sentence.  Once in  (Catholic) high school English courses, I learned proper  grammar and a strong thesis form the underpinnings to competent writing rather than superfluous modifiers, but Thompson’s approach encourages precise language and much more from book one, decreasing the skills to “unlearn” later.

Aside from a few forays in the first two books, Sentence Island and Paragraph Town, formal writing is the focus.  These are not the books to learn to write short stories, nor do they encourage journaling.  By the second book, the emphasis stays with formal writing techniques, which Thompson points out, are the types of writing needed for high school, college, and the work world.  And I agree with this bent, but if I had children inclined to story composition, I might want to add to the MCT materials to foster the skills of character development, plot development, dialogue,  and the like.  I don’t have burgeoning fiction-writing fans, however, so these materials help me meet my goals of raising  proficient writers.  (His poetry series gives writers a chance to try various poetic techniques, and his contributions to the Self-Evident Truths series bring these techniques to famous speeches.)

Essay Voyage, the third book, employs a structure of scaffolding skills.  In ten chapters, structure, unity, formality, wordiness, and more receive treatment, gradually building a foundation for all academic writing.  Historical essays are analyzed with attention to the focus of the particular chapter.  No five-paragraph essay rules here.  Instead, the guidelines support the shortest essay to much longer works.  After an undergraduate English major focused on technical writing, I’ve learned much from this book and believe my writing has improved because of it.  While aimed toward the late elementary-aged child, this book could inform many a mature writer in high school, college, and beyond.  I’m eager to explore the next level, Advanced Academic Writing I, with my older son come Fall.  I’m sure we’ll both benefit from that volume and the rest of the series.  Thank you, Michael Clay Thompson and Royal Fireworks Press for exemplary language arts materials that delight and inform.  What more could one want in this domain?

Note:  I’ve received no financial or material compensation for these reviews from the publisher, Royal Fireworks Press, or any other company.  All opinions expressed are my own.