Tuesday, 25 July 2017

Great teachers are amazing



The most inspiring teacher I had in my life retired recently.

Over 1000 people joined a Facebook group to write thanks and reminisce about their time in 6th form, or history lessons, or politics classes.

He was not just an incredibly intelligent, talented teacher, but an incomparable force of nature. He ruled the 6th form on his own terms and inspired respect in everyone.

But the magic was this: he made you feel like he personally respected, cared and rooted for you. When he spoke to you there was no sense that anything was more important than you; in that moment, or ever.

He helped me apply to Oxford and commiserated when I didn't receive an offer. Through his magic, he still managed to make me feel like a success.

I struggled immensely with going to school and had trouble engaging with my A Levels. I remember a friend telling me that I'd stopped writing half way through one exam and sat there staring into space.

When the school team couldn't get Sheffield to accept my poor grades, I returned for another shot at those exams.

Before my third year in 6th form, I was concerned about being able to manage turning up every day. (I kid you not).

This maverick legend of a teacher told me that I could just attend for the classes I was taking.  What kind of teacher today could even contemplate offering that to a student?

(full disclosure, to this day I have panicky nightmares about going to English lessons because I'm so behind in attendance).

I stumbled my way through the year, picked up another AS level, still attended sporadically and tried to drop English. My ex English teacher of the previous 4 years stormed out of the office in a strop with me over that. (I mention this only as a poignant comparison to the man who built me up and made me feel worthy of making decisions for myself; instead of making me feel more shit about my choices.)

Looking back, I can safely say that almost my entire time at school felt like shit. I lived with a gnawing hollow pit in my stomach and alternated between deep sadness and complete indifference, needing to hide away from everything that was there. I loved to learn. I enjoyed knowing stuff. But I passively resisted the system for 7 years.

However, such is the impact of this man, I can look back fondly too. I remember the riveting history lessons, the unerring belief in me and the pride with which he told me I'd passed his exam module with 100%.

Without him I think times would have been harder and I thank him for what he gave me, even when I wasn't really all that likable.

Happy retirement, Sir.

Thursday, 20 July 2017

Contemplating handwriting

I made a collage for my Facebook page


In one year Diana has gone from being unable and unwilling to write on lined paper, to copying out almost two full pages of A4 in neat, joined handwriting.

My thoughts:

I don't believe that children require rigorous training in handwriting throughout the early years of schooling.

I do believe that schools need children who are able to produce legible handwriting as soon as possible. Competent writers make setting work easier. They also make proof-of-learning and assessments easier.

This is important to consider as a home educator, especially if one is in it for the long haul (i.e. not considering re/integration into a school environment.)

Schoolteachers, bless their overworked, kind, lovely souls, cannot possibly track and present the development of 30 kids over 11 months without a system. They need the marks, results, evidence.

And even if they did have some intricate mind palace arrangement; with each kid's achievements and improvements in their own little mental slot (I'd put nothing past the excellent school teachers I know) do you think the school superiors or OFSTED would accept THAT?

Schools have two things that matter here: a burden of proof, and strict time constraints. From what I gather, each Key Stage must be compared against an earlier one to show progression. There's little room for individuals to delve deeply into one area at a time; or to make leaps completely unexpectedly in other areas.

Home educators have the luxury of time.

In the Onions house there hasn't been a need for extended written work in our lives. Each step Diana's taken towards being able to achieve such has been on terms that suit her aptitude.

With (a little) pressure, but, most importantly;
without shame.

So if you're on this path, if you're worried about "keeping up", if your naysayers are putting you down, take heart.

Just look at what can be achieved in a year.




Tuesday, 27 June 2017

Self regulation and the home educated child

I'm going to preface this:

if you're secure in your life choices, the education of your children, or anything else I might trigger in you, then rock on! I'm genuinely happy for you, I would love to have what you have. Wobbly times of wondering if I'm fucking this all up could then be a thing of the past and I wouldn't have to feel in competition with everyone and every buggering thing they do.



So this post is one quiet, wobbly voice in what feels like a crowd of people celebrating autonomous education.

And I understand why it (autonomous education or unschooling) needs to be celebrated: mainstream don't like it, so there needs to be constant advocacy against the tide of negativity.

But, once in a while, I myself someone in a wobble might need to read something like this. So, here we go...

Fair enough. I won't call it self regulating. I admit to having expectations concerning ability and potential and I admit to feelings of unease when my child's self-chosen activities appear repetitive and restrictive. This may or may not be a schooled hangover. It is definitely based on my experience of 7 years plugging away through various approaches as a home educator of one child.

So, accepting the above, there must in turn be a recognition that some children need help with appropriate decision making in at least two situations:

  • When their choices have a negative impact on themselves; and
  • When their choices have a negative impact on others.

Here I will adress the issue of when their choices have a negative impact on themselves, because I personally feel uncomfortable with a philosophy that appears to suggest we stand by as our children make choices that make them unhappy, unmotivated and unwell.

I'm talking about situations where, when left to regulate their own time, they choose a path of least resistance that causes them negative emotional, social and interpersonal experiences. Where those experiences don't teach natural consequences, but instead the child repeats the same behaviours time and again, compounding the negative impact.



When, in comparison, a parent led structure, involving (for example) to do lists and direction, allows them to break past their own negative or destructive habits. When having a goal or incentive motivates a child to break past the anxiety of starting something so that they can discover new passions and abilities.

You see, some children really don't know how to regulate. They need to learn executive functions, because those skills don't come naturally. And these children don't always have a diagnosis (and might, or might not, be given one, if tested). And they don't always organically learn what they need, when they need it (or know how to ask for it.)



Applying a one-size-fits-all philosophy is exactly the antithesis of home education. Making a choice to home educate is a decision to move away from square pegs and round holes, and if something is destructive, or limiting for a child then it is wrong for that child. Trying to force it to be any other way is as ludicrous as throwing them unprepared into the authoritarian system we've rejected.

Wednesday, 28 September 2016

Plodding through a sleepy home ed week

Monday night went pretty well, we managed to meet up with friends at the Pokemon event and have a little play before admitting that Diana wasn't the only one excited about catching 'em all. We didn't catch as many as we expected but did nab a decidedly average Abra.



Tuesday rolled around with sleepy adults and a hyper baby. This "not really cosleeping" business is getting hard. If it didn't put my joints so badly out of whack I'd just go with it but instead my sleep is so messed up with cot transfers, cuddles and feeds back to sleep I'm just hoping for the end of the tunnel soon. Upon which moment I'm perfectly entitled to be all sad and moany about no more sleepy cuddles (it's the only time I get proper floppy relaxed cuddles, the kid is a constant live wire in the daytime.)

So my lack of sleep caused a minor rift in the Betty-Diana peace treaty but all was solved with the copious application of custard creams and Vimto squash. We pulled out a decent English dictation, quick chat about prepositions and a piece of research on panthers.

Diana had a bash at her Digimon game while I prepped lunch and then we headed out to challenge a local Pokemon gym. We sucked. I think the game is losing its shine for the 9yo with all these career players taking all the gyms and filling them with 2000cp Snorlax and Garrados.

Over lunch we chatted about future plans, college, universities, exams and why Mommy had to redo stuff and important lessons we can learn from this*.

The afternoon brought a new early years group where Turbo wandered happily and Diana made friends with the 4 and 5 year olds. This is a pretty new thing for her. She's always been a bit leery of smaller children, finding them troublesome in their inability to communicate or understand personal boundaries. It was nice to see.

Me and Diana hung out after tea while a tired Bert worked hard to keep Turbo amused.

Wednesday was all about an English workbook, trying out some joined up writing again, logic problems and touch typing.



Then we challenged ourselves on Action Quiz to test our knowledge of UK and Irish cities.




Lack of sleep (for me) continued throughout the week but we had a go at some maths and saw Grandad Train on Thursday with a library trip, sweets and a new Pokemon Go guide for Diana. Me and Turbo were treated to some of this awesome dairy and soya free chocolate, win!



And Friday, after a bit of comprehension work, was all about parks, friends and silliness :)



* 1. don't be a smug git; 2. actually turn up to classes

Monday, 19 September 2016

Average Monday at the Onions

Blimey, what a morning and it's only 10.15 😂

Turbo has the grumps for some reason, my boob hurts like a mofo (blocked duct from a dodgy nursing vest) and Diana's getting over a cold (cough, cough, cough). So, you can imagine how jolly this house is 😂😂😂

We've thrashed through some comprehension, tried some joined up handwriting, practiced spellings and worked on alphabetical order.

Since reading and writing came together we're working more on English skills that we hadn't previously delved in to. It's nice to see it all coming together now, minus the massive stress the whole process used to be. (let me tell you, my kitchen table has been well hidden under - and that was during her phase of *wanting* to do school at home).

The intention is to head out to this event later Pokémonday

But it entirely depends on which one of us implodes first.

Happy Monday everyone!







Sunday, 18 September 2016

Unschooling with a baby

Yeah, we didn't do that.

Honestly, the effort required to successfully provide a rich environment that was enticing and challenging to my (then) 8 year old was beyond me. I applaud anyone who can achieve that. 

For me, after a blissful start, I was stuck in the house for nigh on 8 months with a fussy pained little Turbo (reflux, dairy allergy, food sensitivities, tongue tie, wailing in the car seat...) He screamed for hours, fed for hours; it was all pretty sad. 

The only way I could save the situation for Diana was through regular family help and a sense of order: morning nap time was work time.

The regular hour we spent on writing, reading and maths has set us a good rhythm and Turbo is doing loads better and is such a happy little chap you'd never have known what we went through. 


Friday, 16 September 2016

Six secrets of a smug home educator

Cor blimey I was impressed with myself, home educating a 3/4 year old. It's easy to come off as an insufferable know it all when you discover home education. NP (that's the old nickname, she's chosen a new one and will be Diana henceforth) is 9 now and we've been through a whole bunch of stuff since those earnest early days. How about a look back now from the other side of early years HE? 

1) I'm really not talking about your kid.

If I bang on about square pegs, institutions, etc it's mainly because my kid was a pain in the backside about attending school, or I had a personality clash with a teacher who was my polar opposite. School might have been shit for us. It might not be for you. Everyone's got their own reasons for what they do.

2) I'm really not saying that you, personally, are a shit teacher.

I know you work hard and have skills beyond my understanding. Good for you. Let's move on.

3) It isn't all fluffy clouds, rainbows and self direction.

Sometimes it's arguments, tired people and raised eyebrows all round. Sometimes it's really shit and then you have to have a word with yourself.

4) Flexibility is the ultimate goal

You do structured home education with a colour coded time table and it's wonderful for a day. Then the 4 year old has a strop about cutting out pictures that start with the letter "s" and won't do her Jolly Phonics. So you unschool and strew and hang out at parks for hours with lovely people and it's all great. Then you panic, install a curriculum and blow it all to hell....Unschooling part two commences...and decommences....and then you "incentivise" learning...and it goes well and then you have curriculum and workbooks and they're half done or not done or thrown at the wall and then all of a sudden she can read and write and do maths and all the other things and you wonder what the f*cking hell was the thing that did it.
(my money is on *all of it*)

5) Socialising is probably the main thing we did for 4 years.

For hours at a time. I'm not kidding you. It was great. And exhausting. Can we go home now and do workbooks? No? OK then.

6) Burnout is inevitable

We are not superhuman. The smug lists of activities and facebook boasts are our way of making ourselves feel better for being shit human beings for half the week and feeding them ham sandwiches for 3 days running cos we've all got flu and cba.