Visions of Land Dancing in our Heads

We've known it was going to happen.

The high meadow in our development is going to be developed. The developer is actually reasonably concerned about the land and development, and so he has designated about half of the acrage within the development to be open space. And that's why we bought our house here.

The area is beautiful and the development convenants are such that it will remain that way. We believe that we are very lucky to own a bit of what Bruce calls "G-d's country."

And now the development of the high meadow has been approved by the county and is on the way. Our dead-end road will become the access point to that part of the development. As the survey team has been laying out the lot demarcations, Bruce and I have been going up there to scope things out. He has been thinking of buying some land up there that will have a good horizon for astronomy. Here is Bruce standing on the "astronomy lot" with Zoey and Lily. I took the picture from the boundary with the lot to the north, looking into Bruce's preferred lot.

I wanted to buy the lot next door to our present house, which is hilly and tree-covered, to protect our privacy here. Then, if we can get another lot up in the meadow, so be it. And Bruce has fallen in love with a lot at the top of the meadow that has some pinyon-juniper, but is mostly meadow land, where he would be able to control the light shining downhill, and have a great horizon. That lot is his first preference. Although he wavers a little between it and the one directly north, because it has the best horizon, he knows he would not control the light. Or the horizon itself. Someone could build a two-story 60 feet uphill, and then block that "best" horizon.

The lot is about a half-mile and bit from our present house, and a tad bit higher. Here is the roof of the present house from the building envelope of that lot. It looks closer because I used the zoom lens.

Anyway, yesterday, we sat down and signed a lot reservation prefered purchaser agreement with the realtor for the development, who happens to be our neighbor across the street. By next week we will know if we get that lot up on the meadow, or the one north (our second choice). Or the one next door (third choice).

And when all was said and done, and our neighbor Bill went across the street, I began to look around at the house I love, and I had second thoughts. And third thoughts. And then Bruce innocently broached an alternative idea.

Conversation in our kitchen last night:

Bruce: You know, we probably don't have to buy the lot next door. We probably would not put a house on it anyway.

Me: But I wanted it to provide a buffer between us and the new development. I like that lot--I feel close to it, I've been walking it every day!

Bruce: But I don't think anyone is going to rush to buy it anyway.

Me (knowing he is reasonable, but resisting a change in plans): Are we really going to build a house up on 1---? I mean, I'm not sure I want to be stuck up on the hill with no trees! And you are going to be difficulty to build with! You're such a perfectionist. the subs will hate you!"

This picture is of the lot next door. I love the trees. But the hill is topped by a lot of country rock. It would cost to build there.

The conversation did not go anywhere good. I think I was feeling overwhelmed by the idea of moving again, even though it would not be soon. I think I have an aversion to change, like N. does. A little bit of the 'broader autistic phenotype'--it's genetic, after all. I just could not handle the idea that the meadow is going to have houses, that "my" lot was was not going to be mine, and that I might have to move out of a house that I love, even though I would have a lot to say about the design of the new one. And the very thought of moving! I was also tired, hungry and a little overwhelmed by it all. I wanted to jump up and down and demand both lots. Alas, being much older than a two year old, that was not a good move. Instead, I left the guys to their gluing of flooring and read a book for a while, calming myself in the process.

The funny thing is, when we went up to meadow today, having signed the lot reservation, I began to appreciate "Bruce's" lot. It has views of the Sandias to the west, South Mountain to the north, and there are more trees on it than I remembered.

The picture is taken from the building envelope toward South Mountain. And that is just one of the views! Look 45 degrees to the left and it's the Sandia fault block, a blue jewel!

The lot is large and has an interesting shape--a trapezoid with a very narrow boundary along the cul-de-sac (not there yet) and a long boundary to the southeast, along what will be open space. The building envelope is large. Did I mention that there are trees? The boundary with the next lot to the southwest is through a thick stand of trees, so we would have privacy there, too. In the picture below, Bruce is walking towards that boundary. It's really not so bad. In fact, it is really very good. In fact, it is exactly what Bruce wants. When we first moved in out here, on the very first walk in the meadow, we walked on what would become that lot. And Bruce said to me: "The place to set up a scope is right here!" He was standing right in the middle of the building envelope.

I still get tired even thinking of building a house and moving in. But this is my beloved's dream. He is talking excitedly about passive solar design, trom walls and maybe even composting toilets. The garage would go on the highest elevation, whith the observatory above. And I would have a huge say in the floorplan of the new house. I could have one much like our home now, with those little changes that I have mentioned: A mud-room with separate entrance. An outside door in the garage. A larger master bedroom closet.

I have never agreed with Eric Segal that "love means never having to say you're sorry." I think love means that you have to say you're sorry often. Like I did this morning.

I think that love actually means that you can not say no to the deepest dreams of your beloved. Especially if you can get a mudroom out of the deal. Oh, and I checked out composting toilets on the web. They save water. They pay for themselves over the years. And they do not smell up the house. I can live with that.

Now I hope we continue to have first dibs on the lot! A week has to pass and then we'll see. A mudroom! Cool.

And look at this afternoon view of the Sandia Mountains!

I can definitely live with that!

The 'Right Book at the Right Time' Reading Blitz

I have a problem. I admit it.

I have not been very good at keeping up with our reading lists on this blog. People here tend to read more than one book at once, for one thing. And they finish books and start them with a good deal more regularity than I change the reading list.

So I have a problem.
But it's a nice problem to have!

And another nice thing that happens with our reading occasionally is serendipity! You know, when you find exactly the right book--the one you were longing for--at exactly the right time. And you find it even though you never even knew that such a book existed.

I had that happen the other day. I was surfing Amazon, looking for some Peterson's guides that N. needs for his ongoing Kamana II studies. And there it was! First in the "recommended for you" list. The perfect book. Exactly what I needed. Exactly when I needed it.

A Wild Faith:

Jewish Ways into Wilderness,

Wilderness Ways into Judaism

by Rabbi Mike Comins, Founder of Torah Trek

I ordered it. Immediately. Without even reading the reviews. For some obscure reason, I had it shipped quickly. At the time I ordered it, I knew I wanted to read it because I am working on a presentation for the National Association of Gifted Children (NAGC) annual conference. The presentation is called:

I am the Coyote, I am the Deer:

Reaching for Global Connections Through Wilderness Awareness

I am doing the presentation as part of the Global Awareness Strand of NAGC. It is about our experience in developing empathy, ecological values and concern for justice in the larger world through N.'s wilderness studies and his wildlife rescue service projects. I wrote the proposal last April and it was accepted in May. It will be the first time I give a presentation for a national audience.

Gifted kids with AS do seem to have a strong sense of justice and fairness on the grand scale, but often do not have the empathy to apply this in more concrete situations. By finding a way to develop empathic thinking and acting, the AS kid not only learns content, but also the process of how to direct that sense of justice to work in their world, expanding their horizons and teaching empathy and the actions that show it.

The book arrived the other day. And itbecame more serendipidous at that moment, because I was in the middle of pondering why it is that, in modern Judaism, wilderness awareness is not generally viewed as an important value. After all, when I read the psalms, when I think about the desert experience, when I think about the worry that the ancient Israelites had about losing their direct connection to G-d when they ceased being desert wanderers and settled down in towns, then it seems odd that wilderness awareness is not felt to be a primary value. I know, I know, there are some good historical reasons for the loss of that sense of oneness with nature among the Jewish people. But still.

But when the book arrived I was actually feeling a mite annoyed about this lack of wilderness awareness among perfectly worthy Jews. I felt chastized because N.'s mitzvah projects consistently sound the same theme: ecology, the welfare of animals, and wilderness preservation. He just doesn't seem to get excited about raising money for more directly "Jewish" causes whose headquarters are located in Los Angeles or New York. And then "Brown" came pulling up and I had the book in my hands! Coincidence? Or G-d's way of remaining anonymous? Nu? Who knows. But I'll take it as the proverbial two-by-four.

I eagerly thumbed through the pages, as I like to do with an exciting new book, reading bits here and there, to find out what lies ahead when I settle down to the business of actually reading it page by page. And I read:

"Entering wilderness to experience G-d's presence is not an experience taken seriously by the major Jewish institutions in America or elsewhere..." (p. 4)

Then I read:

"...I have learned: most Jews who love wilderness know little of Judaism, and committed Jews know little of wilderness." (p. 5)

And finally I read:

"In the course of this book, we shall see how wilderness leads to Judaism...(and) conversely, how Judaism leads us to the wilderness--to absorb wilderness in deeper, more vibrant ways."

This was definitely a serendipity kind of moment. As they say in Brooklyn, "the tears stood in my eyes." The answer to my pondering, here in my hands. Ordered by me for a different reason, before the pondering even began. An everyday sort of miracle.

Another nice reading happening at our house is what we call a reading "blitz." Every now and then, we all get interested in reading as much as we can find about a certain topic or by a certain author. Often, we have read some of the books before, but we feel a real need to read them again.

Currently, we are having a Tom Brown, Jr. reading blitz. We have taken up reading his books. We have ordered some that are only available second hand. We have reserved some that we had read previously from the library. We went digging through boxes to find ones read long ago, that were packed for the move last year and not yet unpacked.

I think that this reading blitz was inspired by N.'s lively tales of his experiences at the Coyote Tracks experience. On the first night, Jon Young, who runs the Wilderness Awareness School, and who was taught by Tom Brown, Jr. spent an hour or so around the campfire, telling stories about how he met and was taught by Tom. Nate re-told the stories to us around the Shabbat table and when we were driving and when we were sitting out on the porch listening to the crickets. And that whet our appetites to re-read Tom's wisdom, and venture into writings by him that are new to us.

During reading blitzes, we tend to have lots of silence as we lounge about the living room, or sit at table or in our Andirondack rockers on the porch, turning pages. And then someone will say, "Oh, listen to this!" And that person then reads a profound paragraph or two, after which there is thoughtful silence often followed by lively conversation. During reading blitzes, the rule about not bringing books to the dinner table (books are always allowed at breakfast and lunch) is mainly honored in the breach.

Much learning happens by this informal reading and sharing. I think it is fair to say that I have learned more and enjoyed it more than in any class or reading group in which we have followed a set schedule and series of questions. I think I can speak for N. and Bruce and MLC about this as well. Anyway, we have fun! High energy, waving hands, and sparkling eyes kind of fun. The jokes! The stories! The arguments! We have great fun.

And oddly enough, N. just gave me another Tom Brown, Jr. book obtained at Page One, Too--a used bookstore. It's called Awakening Spirits. It is about the deep spiritual nature of the wilderness awareness teachings that Grandfather Stalking Wolf taught to Tom and Rick.

What's that sound I hear? Another two-by-four swishing through the air?

Serendipity?

Nu? I think that the Eternal has become the 'Master of the Obvious!'

More Religious Ed Mizukus

Ah, the High Holy Days. The food! The music! The arguments! And the annual Four Weeks of Elul posts sent out by the congregation. The combination can create quite a bit of mizukis (loosely translated as "insanity") in my mind.


Today, I opened my e-mail for the Week 3 of Elul study from the congregation. I read:

Four Weeks of Elul 5768 Week Three: Communal Lives
August 30, 2007

Dear Elisheva,

I recently had a discussion with a Rabbinic colleague about how our b'nai mitzvah students approach their mitzvah projects. We both agreed that most our children are very creative and industrious in the way that they go about researching and implementing their chosen acts of tseddakah. From recycling projects to working with animal rescue groups; volunteering in the school system and planting trees, our children do a wonderful job of finding ways to make a difference in our communities. And yet, we both expressed a sense of sadness and frustration that, increasingly, many of our b'nai mitzvah students are not choosing Jewish organizations that can benefit from these projects.

Now, I am probably being overly-sensitive here, but the whole thing kind of tee'd me off, if you know what I mean. First of all, the congregation provides very little guidance and support in the choice of projects or in the execution of the service work. The onus is on the parents and the child to develop a project and follow through on it. Secondly, there are limited opportunities within the Jewish community for young people to provide meaningful service. In our case, I wanted N. to get involved in service that would be on-going, that would be more than make-work, and in which there was room for increasing scope. I also wanted him to find service that flowed from his deepest values and concerns about the world. I wanted the project to reflect who he not only as a Jew, but as a member of the larger community. As a member of a minority religion, I think that any opportunity to express Jewish values in a larger community context is valuable public relations.

So, being a Jew, myself, I immediately sat down and wrote an essay responding to the posting. Remember: "Two Jews, three opinions." It is a sort of "My Turn" essay, that could generate discussion, but probably won't. So I am excerting it here, where I hope to get comments and discussion.

Excerpt I: In which try to demonstrate the rich growth in stewardship that N. has experienced from his non-Jewish community oriented mitzvah project.

Shalom, Rabbi ______,

I am the parent of one of those kids who did a tzedakah project that did not directly serve the Jewish community for his Bar Mitzvah this past year. Perhaps I am feeling a little bit defensive here, but I wonder about separating the choices the kids make into “better” and “lesser” categories depending on who benefits from the services volunteered. Yes, I would like my son to be more involved in the Jewish community and at the same time, I also guided him toward a project that would extend beyond the “one-time deal” into something that he could and would continue to do after all of the hoop-la was over. In fact, for N., the commitment to animal protection projects increased after the Bar Mitzvah, because he began to have more time to devote to it. He is now our neighborhood ambassador for Sandia Mountain Bear Watch, writing and distributing information about how to co-exist with bears, rattle-snakes and mountain lions in our East Mountain community. After the Holy Days, he will begin a volunteer project with the Sandia Mountain I-40 Safe Passage Corridor, in which he will observe and count animals using the safe-passages that were part of the I-40 Tijeras Canyon reconstruction.

Excerpt II: In which I argue that the scope of the service work is universal, the values it represents are important to our future, and spring from our core Jewish values. And that N. serves as an ambassador for Jewish values to the larger community.

These projects are ongoing, and involve doing important work for our mother earth, upon which our lives and the lives of our children and grandchildren ultimately depend. This work is done in the company of other teens and adults. The opportunity for others to get to know N., and hear him explain how his commitment to conservation is aligned with his Jewish values (Bal Tashit (do not destroy wantonly), Shomrei Adamah (protect the earth), Tzaar ba-alei chayei (respect and care for living things), etc.) cannot be discounted. People of other faiths and those with no faith do learn from him about our Jewish faith and commitments as we live them.

Excerpt III: In which I point out that religious expression and spirituality must flow from our lives as we actually live them, and that American Jews generally live within the larger community.

If our religion is to mean anything to us, it must extend from and be applied to the choices and decisions we make in our daily lives. As it happens, our daily lives are lived largely outside of the Jewish community...

Excerpt IV: In which I express the age-old frustration that you can lead a kid to religion, but you can't make him pray. OR kids grow up to choose their own expressions of spirituality--or not:

(MLC) currently expresses a good deal of contempt for organized religion in general.... and is much more captivated by the unity of all life that she sees in her studies of biology and chemistry than she is by Torah and Mitzvot. She’d probably end up a pagan except that she also "eschews" (she uses that word—really!) the magical world view. Currently, she claims to be an atheist, (at least when she is not an agnostic). When she is present for Shabbat or Holy Day she participates by cooking and conversing, but refuses to sing the blessings. I live in fear that she might end up writing the next version of The God Delusion. I can see myself, like Woody Allen’s (movie) parents, wearing the nose-and-glasses disguise while I explain to reporters where I went wrong.

N., on the other hand, is far more receptive to and appreciates Jewish life as it is lived in our household, but he seems to desire a more personal (or maybe natural?) and less formal approach to his spirituality, and so really enjoys going to small group Torah study with (another rabbi in another congregation). He likes to pray at home, outside, and interrupts his worship to watch the hummingbirds, the coyotes and the deer that feed in our meadow. I sometimes wonder if N. is going to take off into the woods someday to find “the Spirit that moves through all things” in the natural world. He might end up being more like Starhawk with T’fillin than like Moses Mendelsohn.

Excerpt V: In which I point out that we, as a ReformJewish community, tend to sweep the fact that our children leave the practice of the faith in large numbers under the rug OR The "We need to talk about this..." plea:

As a parent, I have received little information or help in dealing with my children’s alternative approaches to religion and spirituality...(within Judaism). I suspect that the expression of spirituality is part of the make-up of the person (i.e. the heritability is high), so what does a mother do? I can make rules and boundaries, but I cannot force a specific kind of expression of religion or spirituality on another. Coercion tends to lead to forceful rejection, especially from independent thinkers like (my kids).

Excerpt VI: In which I discuss my concerns about the nature of the current culture in Reform Judaism and my concern with the lack of a clear philosophy of education there:

One concern I have about the current direction of Reform Judaism, is that there is much conformity of behavior but little philosophical justification for it. I think that a child—or rather a young person—like (one of mine) would have done better with the concepts of ethical monotheism and the prophetic voice that were taught in the more classical expression of Reform Judaism. The mix of lock-step adherence to certain ritual and custom (this is how we all must bow, dress, etc.) and rejection of other historic ritual and custom that seems willy-nilly, along with the materialistic values modeled in the current culture of Reform, does not appeal to (my kid's) idealism or ... desire for intellectual rigor. There was a heated discussion of this problem at our Passover table by the four Jewish young people there ( all in college)—two of whom were educated (here), one of whom was educated at a reform congregation in (another state), and one who received no Jewish education. The three who did receive a Reform education were very vocal about the materialism and “country club” atmosphere of their respective Reform congregations. Young people do notice when behavior does not model values preached! They are less tolerant of hypocrisy than are those of us who are older.

Excerpt VII: In which I point out that one-size fits all education does not work OR the "we need some educational flexibility to meet special needs" argument that I have unsuccessfully expressed here and here and, (weary sigh), here:

N., who does respect genuine Jewish values and ritual, would do better with religious instruction that is less formal and more connected with his life and passions. He needs teaching that starts where he is at, and role models that can appreciate, or at least attempt to understand, his child-like lack of sophistication in the social realm. He also needs to see values expressed in the every-day action of individuals, rather than the “do as I say, not as I do” approach, but for a different reason. People with Asperger Syndrome really do not understand the sophisticated social posturing that goes on among neurotypical people. For kids like N., values must be modeled in concrete ways—specifically in interactions between adults such as teachers and rabbis and him. It must be personal. Saying “we are going to spend quality time together” and then spending twenty minutes hurrying him through a hoop is sending a confusing message. So is the use of sarcasm in the religious school classroom—whether it is directed at him or other students. He notices and he does not understand and that hurts him. He wants to be part of things and sometimes his behavior is the result of trying too hard, or misunderstanding what a kid’s got to do to be accepted. He feels accepted among the people of Bear Watch, who appreciate his love of bears, mountain lions and snakes, as well as among the people of Children of the Earth Foundation, who share his love of the wilderness. So this is where his “action potential” has the best chance of taking root and thriving. This is where his life is lived and this is where his spirituality must be nurtured.

Excerpt VIII: Finally, after much digression, an attempt to bring it all back to the original message:

Anyway, maybe we should be happy that our kids want to repair the world a little bit, rather than consider those who choose ways that do not fit into the narrow range of options... of lesser value. Maybe we can see that they are ambassadors of the more universal values in Judaism to a world that does not know about them. Maybe we can include and learn from expressions of Judaism that do not fit the norm.

So, gentle readers, please chime in. Am I being overly-sensitive, maybe?

Is this, as the other testament likes to say, 'pearls before swine?'

Where do you think I might be missing something important?

Are there other ideas I might want to consider?

Sometimes I honestly get the feeling that our religious leadership doesn't really have a clue as to how the am ha-aretz (hoi polloi, for the Greeklings out there) live their lives. Or what our deepest desires concerning the religious upbringing of our kids are. Or what goes on for our kids religiously outside the synagogue. I get the sense that the good rabbi doesn't think we are capable of a deep commitment to our values. Or that our expression of them may differ.

And, as always, remember: Two Jews, three opinions. This is one of mine. In other words, you may not agree.

And finally, after much frustration editing, can anyone tell me why this compose editor does not always recognize hard returns for paragraphing? Oy!

Carnival of Homeschooling: The Random Edition

The Headmistress has been busy over at The Common Room. So on this week's Carnival of Homeschooling, the posts are simply put in the order by which they arrived in her In-Box.

So when time is available, you'll want to go over to the Carnival for some random reading!

Happy Random Access!

Eclipse: Three A.M. On a School Night?

What? Three A.M. on a school night? Meshuggeneh!

Yep. We got up at that time, early Tuesday morning. We could have gotten up earlier to watch the pennumbral phase, but we thought some rest might be nice. After all, Bruce had to go to work and I had two classes on Tuesday.

So we chose to get up close to the beginning of totality during the total lunar eclipse, visible from 5 continents early yesterday morning.

At three A.M., the moon was somewhat obscured by clouds, but by about 3:30 AM, when the eclipse was just beginning totality, we could see the moon--deep red in the shadow of the earth.

So we had our science "lab" there on the back patio before the birds even thought of stirring. We defined the phases of a lunar eclipse and we talked about how the shadow of the earth always projects into to space, opposite of where the sun is shining on earth. A lunar eclipse happens when the moon happens to be inside the bounds of the shadow. Wed talked about why a lunar eclipse happens more often near the equinoxes--it has to do with the tilt of the earth and where we see the moon relative to the sun with respect to that tilt of 23' 27" from the plane of the ecliptic. We talked about how people in the past have interpreted lunar eclipses--and indeed solar eclipses. We used the Astronimical Calendar to find the times of each phase of the eclipse, and we discussed what Universal Time is and how to calculate where we are in time (Greenwich -6 during Daylight Savings time) in relation to UT.

Toward dawn, when the moon was moving out of the earth's shadow, we took some pictures. We talked about why we could see the eclipse through the binoculars at 3:30 AM, but not with the camera lense.

N. guessed that the binoculars had a greater magnification. But that's not true. Actually, the binoculars we were using magnified by 12X wheras when the zoom was full-strenth on the camera, it has a magnification of 15X.

The most important aspect of viewing astronomical objects is the apeture of the lense--that is the diameter of it--because as size increases, the light-gathering ability of the lense increases. The more light the lense can gather, the more you can see. The apeture of the camera lense is small compared to the apeture of the binoculars. So, to take pictures, we had to wait until there was more light in the sky. Successful pictures happened as the earth turned toward the dawn.

We learned quite a lot really. To review:

• the mechanics of a lunar eclipse (astronomy)
• the seasonal effect on the moon entering the earth's shadow (astronomy, earth science)
• where the moon appears in the sky related to time, lunar phase and earth season (astronomy, earth science)
• the phases of a lunar eclipse (astronomy)
• the relative importance of apeture v. magnification in astronomical viewing (optics)
• the cultural meanings of lunar eclipses (anthropology)

And we got to share some time out in the dark while most of our part of the world was sleeping. We noticed that the dawn breeze actually brings the temperature down just at sunrise. We noticed that some animals are out hunting at night.

When the sun rose the moon was just setting, as happens during the full moon, and this day it settled into the rosy western horizon with a tiny bite out of it.

Beautiful. And that was the last of our learning. We learned again that all times of the day and night have their own beauty.

Not Back-to-School Today! Unschooling, Formal and Informal Learning

The coming of the school year for our friends and neighbors has had some influence on us as we begin our second year of homeschooling. I have previously discussed the evolution of our homeschool adventure here. We changed over time from a formal, scheduled school-at-home approach to the more fluid approach of unschooling. Last year, we did do some back-to-school-type shopping and even took advantage of the govenor's tax-free back-to-school shopping weekend. This year, we did no back-to-school type shopping. Oh, N. did propose to use The Teaching Company's Great Courses DVDs as a means to his goal of reviewing basic math and learning algebra. And I ordered them when we agreed on that. But we felt....well, a teensy, weensy bit left out of all of the excitement. We had no reason to read the Back-to-School insert in the newspaper. N. gets his clothes as needs them now, so there was no need for a school clothes shopping trip. And anyway, we were getting ready for our California trip. It was this, in the end, that helped us over the "wow, we're not going 'back to school' " left-outness.



But even though we are not going back to school, and we are not going to school-at-home, we still made an educational-type transition today. In the Bird Baylor, 'I'm in charge of celebrations' mode, we had our first day of Not Going to School. Today, N. woke up ready to begin some of the learning that he planned with us toward the end of July. And this transition led me to do some reflecting on what it means, exactly, to be unschoolers. The question that I am ruminating on is this: Is having a structure/routine compatible with calling ourselves unschoolers? What about the presence of some formal, structured learning?

Now that we are back home from our trip (it is difficult to call all that busy-ness a vacation), we decided (note the pronoun) to add a little structure to our days. So today we resumed praying the morning service. And since it is the month of Elul (in the Hebrew Calendar), N. decided to practice blowing the shofar, which is the custom in this month of preparing for the Days of Awe.

Is this learning? Well, yes, of course it is! N. is learning content--the adult practices that go with the month of Elul, Jewish customs and tradition, the structure of the Hebrew calendar. He is also practicing skills--how to blow a shofar, chanting prayers in Hebrew, the choreography of Jewish prayer, etc.

But this is certainly not formal education. It is the kind of learning-by-doing that is considered education at its best by such advocates of unschooling as John Holt, John Taylor Gatto, and Alison McKee. It is learning that comes naturally in the process of living our particular lives in our own cultural and social context.

After we prayed the morning service and blew the Shofar, though, N. got out his hunting knife and we opened the big box that had come from The Teaching Company. He examined the three courses therein--Basic Math, Algebra I, and The Joy of Science. He opened up the math workbooks that came with the first two courses, and he read the outlines inside the DVD cases. Then he collected a clipboard, a pencil and a spare, and paper, and popped in the Basic Math DVD and selected Lesson 1--Review of Addition and Subtraction. On the screen, Murray Siegel, Ph.D. was standing in a room full of instruments of math instruction, lecturing from notes and using a white-board.

This would be recognized anywhere as learning; indeed, it looks like schooling. Well....kind of. I mean, how many students in school listen to their math lectures sitting cross-legged in an easy chair, while snacking on nuts and drinking water? How many students in school can literally freeze-frame the professor and use scene selection to replay a difficult-to-understand bit. Never-the-less, this still looks like formal education. It is structured. It has a teacher, it has a white-board, and it has a workbook. N. even had "homework." He had a page of workbook problems to practice after he finished watching the DVD. True, he checked his answers himself using a calculator and then compared that to an answer key. No red pens--thank goodness!--and immediate feedback was his. Still, one wonders, is this also unschooling?

I think the answer to that question is that it depends. It depends on the answers to other questions. Questions like: Who decided that N. would learn Basic Math? Who decided that he would use a DVD course from The Teaching Company? Who decided that he would do it right after morning service without even taking a break? In our case, the answer to each of the above is: N. did. He made a goal for himself to review 4th - 8th grade math so that he could learn Algebra. He got interested in Algebra by watching his sister, Bruce and I solve important problems that way. (Important because they pertained to things we were planning to do). He pored over The Learning Company's catalogue and decided that he would like to use their product. He determined when he would begin and that he would do the math on days that someone would be around to help him if he needed it. And today he got up ready to begin.

Is this unschooling? I think it is. There was no imposition of goals on the learner. We have definitely moved from being 'sages on the stage" to becoming 'guides on the side.' There is structure--but it comes from goal-setting. N. has learned that routine and regular practice are very helpful to the accomplishing of goals. And this is a good thing to learn in this world. Actions do have consequences. How you go about working on goals has a lot to do with whether or not you accomplish them. Practice does make perfect sometimes.

So we are unschooling this year.

And the rest of our day? N. spent the afternoon in his room, making a contour map of his secret spot for Kamana II. He didn't need me at all for that. He had not 'scheduled' it. But he clearly had it in mind for his First Day NOT Back to School.

Travelogue Last: Home At Last!

Sunday, August 19, 2007

Morning in Needles, California: Time= 7 A.M. Temperature = 98 degrees F. We can hardly wait to get out of this place and start driving east--and up onto the Colorado Plateau.

Needles lies in the Colorado River Valley, between fault block ranges of the Basin and Range Province. The elevation is low, and the landscape is of the Mojave Desert. Hot. Dry. Barren.

After a good breakfast at a local chain next to the motel, we loaded Henry up. By 8:30 the temperature was 100 degrees (F) and the heat was ennervating.




It was my day to drive again. We had been on the road less than an hour, when the coffee I had consumed at breakfast made a quick stop at a Rest Area west of Kingman vital. I took a picture of the landscape at the Rest Area--still Mojave Desert index plants. This is a Palo Verde plant against the mountains. The temperature here was 101 degrees (F).

And then another stop at Kingman, Arizona, to load up with gas. The prices in Needles were the highest we had seen anywhere. The gas prices in Kingman were more toward the average, and nearly a dollar lower than Needles. I am glad we were able to make Kingman for the gas. The people in Needles are being gouged.





From Kingman, Arizona, we ascended up onto the Colorado Plateau in a series of long hills, and then onto the San Francisco Volcanic Field, dominated by San Francisco Peak, the highest mountain in Arizona.

At about 11:30 MST (Arizona does not observe daylight time), we stopped at a rest stop just west of Flagstaff, which sits just below San Francisco Peak. What a difference in landscape and temperature. We had come quite high, and the landscape was Ponderosa Pine Forest. The temperature was 86 degrees (F). We lingered there, taking pictures of a volcanic cone that was being mined for aggregate.




From Flagstaff, we came down off the San Francisco Volcanics and into the Painted Desert. This area is in an old lake bed, and there are two national parks--Painted Desert and the Petrified Forest. The painted desert is called that because of the colors of the sediments from the weathering of certain Colorado Plateau formations.

Here we took a quick stop near the turn-off the Meteor Crater to take this picture. We got right back on I-40. Meteor Crater is a fun stop, but we were eager to get home after 10 days of traveling!



At about 3 PM MDT, we crossed the border into New Mexico! Even though we still had a long drive ahead, seeing the welcome sign made us feel like we had arrived. And just about at the border, the lake sediments landscape gives way to the Mesas and valleys of the Colorado Plateau formations. Coming into New Mexico from the west, you can really see a change!

We had planned to stop at the Welcome Center rest area and eat a late picnic lunch (our body-clocks were set to PDT), but the center was closed for rennovations. So we happily stopped at Blake's Lot-a-Burger in Gallup, and got our first Green Chile Burgers since we had left home. Green Chile--the state fruit of New Mexico--which leads to the official state question: Red or green? Green chile is addictive and New Mexicans long for it when traveling out of state.


Then it was time to get some gas and hit the road for the last leg of the journey. Bruce and N. both napped as we already had the Roadside Geology for this stretch of I-40 pretty well memorized. I tuned the radio to the Oldies Station broadcasting from Cortez, Colorado, and headed east. We traversed the northern part of the Malpais Volcanics (some flows are less than 1,000 years old) and then through the Mesas near Acoma Pueblo. At the top of Nine Mile Hill, we left the Colorado Plateau behind to descend into the Rio Grande River Valley and into Albuquerque. The Sandia Mountain Fault Block--our beloved and familiar mountains--can be seen rising above the city and the river in the distance from the top of Nine Mile Hill. Bruce woke just in time to take some pictures.
We drove down across the Rio Grande, then ascended to the foothills of the Sandias. Then into Tijeras canyon and along the creek that runs down Tijeras fault, up to Zuxax and then up Sedillo Hill to our road and home!

It was a good trip. And a wonderful homecoming.

And it's great to finish the travelogue, so that I can have my mind squarely in the present!