While perusing homeschool message boards, I sometimes see a question like, “How independent is your middle schooler?”
My short answer consists of: “My 6th grader does algebra, Latin, Greek, grammar, and logic on her own. I grade her work roughly once a week in each subject (except for math; I grade that daily), and I correct her when she’s gotten too far off track. I’m much more hands-on with writing, so, by default, I am much more involved with literature, history, and science.”
I’ve come to realize that my short answer gives some folks the impression that I am not interacting with my 6th grader, that she’s alone in her room doing God knows what while I’m sitting on my butt reading trashy novels and assuming everything is progressing according to plan. Oh, how I wish that were true. Alas, my independent learner is not all that independent. And so, here is my long answer to the question, “How independent is your middle schooler?”
Anemone does indeed do algebra, Latin, Greek, grammar, and logic on her own. “On her own” means she reads the next lesson in the book, watches whatever video lecture is available, and does the exercises. But this doesn’t happen in a vacuum. I may not lecture or hold her hand through the practice problems, but I’m still involved. Oh, boy, am I involved!
Before she even sits down to start school, I’ve already read through the day’s lessons and have taken note of any problems she might have. Granted, the curricula I chose couldn’t be any clearer, so she usually doesn’t have any trouble. (The standard disclaimer applies: you know yourself and you know your kids. If you think different books are better, that’s great and I salute you!) Since I look at the lessons beforehand, and because I’ve already been through these books once with JellyMan, I always know what she is studying. My not “teaching” the lesson doesn’t mean I’m not aware of what’s going on.
She does her lessons at the kitchen table under my watchful eye, because if she were to take her work elsewhere, she might not do it. Worse still, she might not bother to find me in order to ask me a question. I encourage questions, as long as they are not the type easily answered by consulting an index or a dictionary. (I might not always know the answer, but we have a fairly large personal library and I am a google fiend.) So, I’m in the room while she does her daily lessons. Sometimes I play on the computer, sometimes I work on my Latin, sometimes I work in the kitchen, but I am always there. My being there allows her to make a bad pun in Latin and laugh with me about it. She can write nonsensical-but-perfectly-valid syllogisms just to annoy me. She can ask, “Mom, is there a REASON this Greek word has a different accent than this other Greek word that looks just like it?” This is the nicest part of homeschooling. We’d all miss out on a lot if we were all in different rooms.
I try to grade her math daily. I tend to let the other subjects accumulate over several days, and then grade them all at once in a marathon session. For instance, today I graded all of last week’s Latin. I saw that she is having an issue with the third conjugation (aren’t we all?), so I reviewed the paradigm, went over her errors with her, and made a note to check her work again tomorrow to be sure the lesson has been learned. Tomorrow I’ll probably go through her logic papers. Then grammar the next day, and Greek then next. Maybe all I’ll need to do is hand the work back to her for minor corrections, but I might need to get more involved, as in the case of the infernal third conjugation.
Literature, history, and science are all writing intensive subjects, so I work on those subjects with her daily. (Not all at once; she does each of these subjects twice a week.) I choose the books, I make sure she reads the books, I discuss the literature with her and guide her through (very basic, at this point) literary analysis. I teach her outlining with her science and history books, and I teach her how to write reports and essays. I mark her spelling and grammar mistakes and help her reorganize her thoughts into a cohesive whole, and it is exhausting. I’m so glad she can “do the next thing” in other subjects!
While my Anemone still has far to go before she is a truly independent learner, she is making good progress. I can now trust her to set her alarm, eat breakfast, brush her teeth, and start her school work without being told. I can trust her to remember to finish whatever lesson she had to put away so we could go to piano lessons or the orthodontist. I can trust her to put her books on the proper shelves when she’s finished with them. Well, most days. By 9th grade, I believe she will be working at the independence level of my JellyMan, which I will describe later— if I don’t tie him to an anthill first.
Wednesday, May 9, 2012 at 8:56AM