Monday, August 29, 2011

Something to think about....

People make choices based on what they believe about the world. Politicians make choices based on their understanding of the world and of humanity and of God, no different than the rest of us... except that they decide what goes on in the official things of the country. Read through this list and comment to let me know what you think about this list of questions.

 
 

Sent to you by teacon7 via Google Reader:

 
 

via Cranach: The Blog of Veith by Gene Veith on 8/29/11

New York Times editor Bill Keller came up with a series of questions about religion that he is asking presidential candidates, an inquisition necessary in order to ferret out, among other things, which ones doubt the doctrines of evolution, the equivalence of all religions, and that there is a higher law than religion, namely, secular law.  Anthony Sacramone discusses these questions and even answers them.  He then counters with "The Sacramone Questionnaire for Nontheists":

1. Do you think that anyone who believes in the supernatural is delusional? If so, do you believe they should be treated medically? Do you believe they should be allowed to adopt children?

2. Do you think anyone who believes in six-day special creation should ipso facto be barred from holding public office?

3. Do you believe the religious beliefs of historical figures should be eradicated when discussing them in schools? For example, that Louis Pasteur was a devout Catholic who prayed the Rosary daily?

4. Do you believe that the religious faith of those responsible for the birth of modern science—Galileo, Copernicus, Robert Boyle, Isaac Newton, Gregor Mendel, George LeMaitre (father of the theory of the big bang), Jesuit priests too numerous to mention, et al.—should be eradicated when discussing them in schools?

5. Do you believe that it should be noted that the rise of modern science occurred in the context of a civilization that was still explicitly Christian when teaching either European history of the history of science?

6. Do you think homeschooling should be illegal, as it is in some European countries?

7. Do you believe vaccines are a factor in the rise of autism cases? Do you believe parents should be allowed to opt out of vaccine programs?

8. Do you believe that global warming/climate change demands we de-industrialize?

9. Do you believe churches and all religious institutions should be taxed?

10. Do you believe that there is such a thing as life unworthy of life? Explain.

11. Do you believe assisted suicide and euthanasia should be made legal either on a state-by-state basis or by federal fiat?

12. Do you believe infanticide should be made legal? If not, when is a baby a human being protected by the rights any other human being enjoys?

13. Is there any point when an adult human being loses the right to life? If so, under what circumstances?

14. Do you believe polygamous marriage should be legalized, either on a state-by-state basis or by federal fiat? Do you believe that "minor-attracted adults" should be protected by law as a perfectly valid expression of human sexuality that was much more common in ancient Europe and among non-Western cultures? Do you believe incest and/or bestiality should be protected by law as perfectly valid expressions of human sexuality?

15. Do you believe that individuals are ultimately responsible for their behavior, or do you believe they are subject to too many internal (biochemical, psychological) and external (social pressures, strange belief systems) factors to be held accountable, such that many of our criminal laws should be seriously reformed or eradicated?

via The NY Times/Bill Keller Irreligious Litmus Test | Strange Herring.


 
 

Things you can do from here:

 
 

knitpicky

ALSO I would like to knit something every week. Please try to keep me on track! I'm going to finish an old project this week. hopefully. yus.

Friday, August 26, 2011

The Lost Diadem of Ravenclaw--I mean...

[reference to Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows]

Dorothy is definitely not in Kansas anymore. And by 'Kansas,' I mean 'today's standard educational limits.'

As I read, I took a few notes and put my understand in the common vernacular. However, as we're attempting to not be codfish, I will expound on those thoughts and formulate them in a less crude way: Sayers is very close to comparing modern educational systems to piles of musk ox defecation.

However, it's not simply Dorothy Sayers relieving herself, in turn, in the outhouse of today's "learning." She criticizes, but she also reveals a lost way of learning--one that hasn't been used since medieval times. Since we no longer use those tools (having been 'lost'), students are in school for years longer than they used to be. Some of this, she acknowledges, is because there is more to learn--we've discovered the light bulb, and the duck-billed platypus, and people have made up reasons why we shouldn't use the Oxford comma. Those things (except for the last) are acceptable. Children should learn about them. Dorothy Sayers simply says they don't know how.

She identifies with thoughts readers may have about other people: doesn't it ever appear that others have no idea what they're talking about? or that they can't articulate exactly what they mean, perhaps because they don't know exactly what they mean? that they don't know something, but they don't know how to find out the answer? that they don't know how to talk about two different things at the same time, because they view them as completely separate? Maybe these thoughts aren't about other people. Maybe these things are true about us.

Brief disclaimer: not that everyone's stupid! Some people are very intelligent. (Some people... well.) They may have even learned Sayers' lost tools without knowing it. She's merely suggesting that it should be more openly introduced into schools today, to better learning, because methods today may not cover all that they should. Children may learn facts, but not the methods behind it, why the fact is a fact, or even why they're learning it. Then they move on to a different 'subject,' and become unable to mix the previous with the present.

Sayers dislikes that word--'subject.' She uses it mockingly, and always in quotation marks, showing that she doesn't take it seriously enough to use as a real term. Why is this? It separates too much: one of her examples was chemistry and art. One might think, at first, that there is nothing to relate between the two--and one would be incorrect. Because subjects are taught so stiffly ("This is English class." "This is Math class.") and don't appear to blend, people think that they can't. Students are raised separating everything, and learning facts so differently by 'subject,' that they don't know how they learned them and they don't know how to transfer thoughts from one thing to another. Essentially, they don't know how to think.

Enter Sayers' 'lost tools.' What does this mean? (That we should fear and love God...) That when someone doesn't understand, we should hit them with a screwdriver we found in a box in the basement? Unfortunately, no. This is where Dorothy introduces the Trivium: grammar, dialectic (or logic), and rhetoric. She says it is the method of dealing with subjects (something that, when combined with the trivium, is acceptable), so that we aren't "leaving the method of thinking, arguing, and expressing one's conclusions to be picked up by the scholar as he goes along." She speaks of the Trivium as though learning it and having it in one's repertoire is a weapon. Sayers says to send one into the world with merely 'subjects' is to send them undefended: how will they express their opinion? How will they formulate their opinion, if they cannot process everything that's out there?

Sayers states that the Trivium is a preparation for learning. Each stage of the Trivium goes along with stages of childhood, and thus can easily be added into the educational growth of a student. Grammar goes best when they're younger: when they're eager to learn and can do so quickly. Feed them knowledge in the same subjects one would teach without the Trivium. As they grow older, more aware of what they're learning and how they might disagree with it, introduce Dialectic, or Logic. Make the student think about it. This age, Sayers points out, is already so argumentative that asking the child to reason things out instead of blindly accepting them will hardly be difficult. They will learn to discover fallacies and argue correctly. In the grammar stage, they will learn the words, in the dialectic phase, they will learn the syntax and history. (Dorothy Sayers suggests as well that they use the library.) Once they emerge from the Logic age, they enter Rhetoric, where there is more freedom of opinion. Here they learn to articulate everything they've learned so far into writing. Sayers advises that they be allowed to pursue subjects that are more of their interest and talent, although it will be hard to distinguish subjects now that the previous stages have taught them to mingle their thoughts. She doesn't speak much on Rhetoric, because here is where the student flourishes on their own.

Dorothy Sayers says that she is unconcerned with schools, she only wants the preparation of the mind. Her goal is to learn the art of learning through the Trivium, and it will simplify greatly the learning of all other good things.

Becoming narcissistic, I think our own dear mother did a pretty decent job of introducing the Trivium to us, whether or not she meant it. I don't want to sound like we're smarter than everyone else because we know how to learn or something, but we were allowed freedoms that not ordinarily-schooled children were. We ran around with sticks (oh no!) and read books about constellations and watched Schoolhouse Rock to learn about conjunctions. Does that directly relate to the Trivium? Noo! It's not even on the same subject... or is it?

Grammar: we learned and loved it. I can think of specific times when we sat down to have 'learning time,' but there are less memories of those than would seem likely. Yet somehow, I know quite a bit. Again, I'm not trying to sound incredibly vain, and there is so much more to learn, but our family does seem quite gifted with intelligence. My theory of how that happened is that we spent so much time reading--we took in much more than just stories. We also had extra time to do other things, such as building computers or writing stories. We read and we learned from it.

Then we wondered why. So we found out. Dorothy Sayers' acclamation of the library was correct--not only did it supply us with books that fed us stories, imagination, and facts, but it also gave us books to explain why and how things worked. There were histories and cross-sections and biographies and CDs of Mozart and art books to explain techniques. Though we may not have used the age suggestions found in Dorothy's essay, much of the grammar and rhetoric was found in books. The subjects mingled--science was learned and found in art technique, and art was found in history, and we learned history when we read, and when we read we learned English...

However, not everything was learned in dusty (or even new) books. Reasoning? Try talking to any of the maternal-side relatives. As Mom says, "We argue for sport." It must have sifted down through our genes, and even conversation in our house was practice in logic. The opinions are strong in this one.

Rhetoric was, as well, blended with the others. As I mentioned, we had time to write. I wrote stories, and I had them criticized and edited. I remembered surprising Piera when I was six by using the word 'glum' in a fairy tale. "How do you know the word 'glum'?" she asked, surprised. "I don't know," I answered, equally surprised that it was strange to have a large vocabulary. Thinking on it later, I realized I knew the word because I read, and I wrote it because I had unconsciously added it to the thesaurus in my mind.

I had lessons in language with my dad, with Piera, and with Schoolhouse Rock. Conjunction junction, what's your function? Hooking up words and phrases and clauses. Various tidbits of English writing stuck with me, although I couldn't say what. Piera taught us to write papers--formally, concisely, fluidly. I don't know if I can do all of that well, but I know the idea.

In turn, I note when books are written formally, concisely, or fluidly. I point out grammatical errors in scientific writing. I point out scientific errors in grammatical writing. I merge two 'subjects' and come up with knowledge that can be used no matter the topic. Though unaware that we used the Trivium, our family must have been more inclined towards that in our relaxed way of homeschooling. I say this simply because I knew what Dorothy Sayers was talking about. I even vaguely mentioned it in my last post, before I had read about the Trivium. (Although I had heard about it from Keaton.)

However, despite that fact that I think this could be bettered in education today, and doubt that it will be, it hasn't been totally eliminated from schools. I'm sure it does show up from time to time--I refuse to believe that everyone is an untaught imbecile. Over time, perhaps the Trivium became such a habit that it was forgotten to be taught, and now teachers and educational systems expect students to know it. Perhaps some of it is so ingrained in the system that we pass over it in our severe inspection. First graders learn to write. Fourth graders present projects. Sixth graders have debates and write opinions. Tenth graders write essays. It may go unsaid and unnoticed, but hints of the Trivium still remain. The art of learning is sadly overlooked today, but not, I think, lost.

Also, you assumed I would agree without allowing for the possibility that I wouldn't. For the most part, I do, but it appeared that you didn't expect any of my reasoning skills to work against yours. Opinions are opinions, not necessarily the right way of thinking.

On another note, Dorothy Sayers mentioned that many people are governed by Christian ethics that they don't realize are Christian ethics. I've definitely noticed that. Who said killing people way wrong? God. Who says it now? Everyone except a few murderers.

later, bro.

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

Words, Words, Words...

[Hamlet, Act 2, ii]

Good entry. Thanks for writing so quickly. If you keep going quickly, you can build up freebies for later dates.

Okay, it sounds like you want to learn things. We can do that. What exactly you want to learn is... a little bit less defined. You don't know what you don't know to learn...that's how we're supposed to start with wisdom. Socrates ran around ticking people off because he said we should admit that we don't know much. Solomon said that in even better terms too... The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. Admit that you're... not the Lord. You're a human.

So... education. Learning. When you start walking, you might not know where you're going to end up, but you do have to pick a direction to go. Do you have any idea where to start? I have some ideas of what's important to learn, but I want you to think about it out loud (in writing), so that you know how to verbalize it. And verbalizing it, that's an important part of education, because the ability to speak and reason is part of what it means to be a human being.

Wait. stop. Go read this. Your assignment is to write 1500 words about that article. In the first half explain what she said, and then explain in the other half whether you agree with her or not, and why. (Obviously, you're going to agree with her, so try to match up what she says with your life experiences and reasoning skills.) If you want to comment on what I say next, do that in an additional 500 words. Do so by Saturday evening before you go to sleep. 

Then, in a hilarious note, listen to this: the greek word logos means "word," "speech/speaking," or "reason/logic." If you look at all of the things that came from this word, you might notice that they're all kindof related. When you have to put something into words, you have to make some kind of sense (logic) out of it. Being able to put things into words means being able to make sense of them. Our words might not be all that great, and our logic might not be all that correct about what we're talking about, but we still tried, and that's better than animals.

For example, if I say:  "Winston Churchill is a carrot," I am somehow linking those two things together and making a statement about reality. I am clearly wrong, but i can describe it. Go ahead and try to find something that can't be put into words. You might think of something, but I bet you can't tell me what it is with words, you have to sort of kerfuffle around the edges and use similes and analogies and experiences and stuff. Good luck. Speech and Reason go together, and that's one thing that God gave us that makes us distinctly human. Being better at those makes us better at being human beings as God has made us. Education, particularly the Trivium* (grammar, logic, rhetoric), develops that aspect of our God-given humanity. 

Humanity. What does it mean to be a human being? Who ARE you? You walk around all goofy on two legs, covered with patches of hair in weird places, and make noises at other hairless bipeds. We run and jump around and dress up in funny hats and assemble together to listen to other moderately hairy bipeds make funnier noises. What IS THIS? WHY? This is a good question.

This reveals two goals I have for us.
a) get good at grammar, logic, and rhetoric so we can
b) learn more about what it means to be a human being (anthropology = anthropos [human] + logos [words/reasoning about])
c) learn why human beings do some of stuff we do
           and eventually,
d) learn more about the world in which God placed us. (cosmology = cosmos, [world] + ology [words/reasoning about])
             What's missing from that list? 
e) learn more about God. (theology = theos [God] + logos [words/reasoning about])
              Why? Cos your pastor does that pretty regularly. And I'll dither around talking about God and how He connects to the rest of all of this, but your pastor is the primary one to trust for the God-teaching.

So. Go read, then write things. 
-Keaton
        <><


* This is a great book that explains and teaches those tools of learning. It's $6 online. get it while it's that cheap... usually it costs $20 or so.

Bacon, cheese, whipped cream and pickles

Dear Keaton,

I like to sleep in.*

Well, that's completely true, but from that thought, we can go down two separate paths--one, that my schedule will be much more flexible, and two, the subject of my fatness.

When I went to a "regular" school, I woke up obscenely early (although not as early as girls who needed to, I don't know, brush their hair), slept or vaguely studied on the fifteen minute trip to school, and often spent most of the day half-asleep and doodling Alice Liddell in the margins of my advanced algebra notes. On those rare occasions where I participated in an interesting extra-curricular activity--such as stage managing--I would get home around 5:30 or 6pm; when I didn't, it was usually 3:30. The short afternoons and evenings consisted of convincing myself that my homework wouldn't take very long, even when it obviously would (please see Scieszka and Smith's fable, "Grasshopper Logic," from Squids will be Squids**). Point of interest: drawing an eight-generation family tree does not take half an hour. But I digress.

I didn't hate school, but mornings usually threw off my groove. Not eating breakfast can stunt your energy levels for the rest of the day, and attempting to be in a higher-level language class at 7:40am is not my cup of tea (although I often did drink tea in the mornings). Though I was tired, I did learn very much, and I was blessed in getting to see my friends daily. However, even when I arrived home mid-afternoon--as opposed to early evening--there were activities I wasn't able to do. Often my family was preoccupied--Temish had catechism twenty-five minutes away, or my mom took night classes at Concordia. I couldn't visit the art museum and spend hours meandering and taking notes. I couldn't use the midday sunlight for the correct lighting to draw at my desk. I couldn't make it to the bank and the store. I couldn't clean for my old neighbor before she got home from work. I couldn't visit my sister at college. I was weary (although possibly from poor eating and sleeping habits). I had homework. I didn't have time to read.

Most people can use that schedule, and well. Schedules are useful. I like them. They're helpful. I just didn't enjoy that particular one. I do like sleeping in.* End exposition.

As a homeschooler, there are about four million more options. Take a painting class at Michaels. Volunteer at the art museum. Teach myself piano. Use my teacher-y relatives to learn more. Use their intelligent, homeschooled friends. Use my own intelligent, homeschooled friends to learn more. Exchange one hour of learning French for one hour of doing art with a four-year-old. Work mornings. Stage manage shows for the Milwaukee Youth Theatre (hopefully!). Babysit weekly for two of the cutest children ever. Visit my scattered siblings. Make Temish write a page about narwhals. Memorize Africa. Run at 10 every morning. Write letters. Teach myself to cook. Read. Learn what I what, when I want, as quickly as I can learn it. Brilliant. Homeschooling = wizard = brick.

The fatness is a double-edged sword. Double-edged adipose cell. I love to sleep in, and sleep can be good for me. I might even be able to sleep long enough to match my body's needs. (I'm a growing girl.) If I'm not sleeping, I can still languish in my bed and read Spirituality of the Cross or something with similar levels of awesomeness. I can wear my pajamas and learn trigonometry. However, that same obesity will probably block my motivation from sight. That motivation is learning. (Fat < learning.) If I become distressingly lazy (which is... an obesibility), I would get angry, and someone--possibly myself as well--would have ssslap me ssso sssuper hard.

Therefore, to avoid getting slapped, and to avoid hating myself for all eternity because I'm lazier than a three-toed sloth (who only climb out of their trees to pee, which--exchanging 'tree' for 'bed'--could probably be me some days), I hope to improve my totally lame motivational and productivity skills. Maybe I'll complete projects EVERY SINGLE DAY, and the result will be becoming intelligent, organized, and assertive. And maybe I'll use less parentheses.

AND THERE'S MORE! Those are merely amazing bonuses on the side. The subject matter is also incredible--I mentioned some when I spoke on the flexibility. I could learn French, and I could also learn Greek and carry on with Spanish. I could learn to paint, and use this drawing book that I have to learn to draw realistically, with shading and contours and real... stuff... Stuff I can't yet describe, because I haven't read the book yet. Mom has history books--two or more--and there are science textbooks, and math textbooks, and plenty of grammar-type books so that I can learn every single nuance of the English language. (Another point of interest: did you know that the Oxford comma was officially stated to be unnecessary? This is complete rubbish. That comma is as necessary as an epiglottis... WHICH IS IMPORTANT.) I have friends who have materials for AP Language, AP Psychology,*** and Pre-Calculus.

While on the topic of Pre-Calculus, let me lead in to another stupendous reward of being homeschooled: you aren't limited. At all. So much of what I've said already feeds into that one sentence. You aren't limited. In a "regular" school, you have four years and roughly thirty-two classes--less if you take a study hall. As a homeschooler, in my one final year of school, I can take Pre-Calculus... and Calculus. I can take French... and German and Greek and Spanish and Italian. I can study medieval history and specifically Irish history. I can study painting and drawing. To be homeschooled is to be versatile. I can learn at my own pace, whether it be slow or quick.

The last point is, perhaps, the most wonderful. Mom has always said it was part of why she homeschooled us. In "regular" school you learn facts: the surface area of one's lungs is about the size of a tennis court. In "regular" school you learn methods: FOIL. It's not that one can't learn more... but generally one doesn't. And it's not that those are bad, either! Oh, no. Those are tremendous and useful and lend to increasing the power of the incredible brain God created. But when learning isn't restricted by schedules and classes, there's so much more to be discovered. Creativity, ideas, and imagination: learning to think.

*does this count as ending a sentence in a preposition? I think it seems okay in this situation.
**I can type it up if anyone cares to read it.
*** example of the much-loved Oxford comma. You know why it's so important? "I love to eat bacon, cheese, whipped cream and pickles." IT LOOKS LIKE I ENJOY PICKLES AND WHIPPED CREAM TOGETHER.

P.S. I already discovered your little Facebook link scam. Not that I was tempted by Facebook... but I was certain that it wouldn't actually go to Facebook, so I clicked to see where it would ACTUALLY lead... tricksy little hobbitses. Link

What is this blog, blog?

Dear Minte,

Thanks be to God for the many blessings He has showered upon us poor wretches, greatest of which is His own Son Jesus Christ, through whose saving work on the cross we are justified before the throne of the Almighty creator of all things! Peace be with you.

At this time, it seems that we've been given the opportunity to discuss some really good books, ideas, and stories. My idea for how this will work so far is thus: I'll post a something to read, and you have a couple days to read it, think about it, and write something about it. Then we'll discuss it and eat cake.

Since the internet is... distracting, and we're liable to be really fat from time to time, I think we should find a way to keep each other on task. Namely, homework of a sort. Your posts should be 2,000 words for now, or some arbitrary limit that I decide, to make sure you're not going to do this halfheartedly. Write or Die is a sweet website that counts your words, and yells at you if you get distracted. This thing won't work if we both end up being too fat to read and write. I'm nervous that one or both of us will somehow give up because we're too busy checking Facebook to notice that our butt size is inversely proportional to our IQ. Let's please not do that.

Also, we're both pretty good at being random. We have lots of places to do that on the internet, but I think we should set this blog aside for something besides random pictures of kittens fighting gnomes with rubber ducks. Otherwise, we won't be able to keep a consistent enough train of thought to make use of the gifts God has given us in the human heart and mind. Please check your lolcats at the door.

That said, your first assignment is:  1000+ words on why you want to be home schooled, and what you hope to get out of this. Go.