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| Ok, I posted another portion of The Book of Byron... I don't want to talk about it though because I end up all mad at the world... when I start to think about my educational experience. They tried to crush my soul man, from grade 6 onwards. Told me a lot about my potential... but never actually took any action to help me realize it. Aside from "memorize this and fill in these blanks and you'll be OK".
I've been invited to sit in on some meetings with the Industry Training and Apprenticeship Education Committee... so we'll see how that goes.
Don't worry about your North American childrens though... Veresi is going to revolutionize the whole system.
And if education is always to be conceived along the same antiquated lines of a mere transmission of knowledge, there is little to be hoped from it in the bettering of man's future. For what is the use of transmitting knowledge if the individual's total development lags behind?
Maria Montessori (1870-1952) Italian doctor and educator
- that's good, but I like this one too:
Let schoolmasters puzzle their brain,
With grammar, and nonsense, and learning.
Good liquor, I strongly maintain,
Gives genius a better discerning.
Oliver Goldsmith (1728-74) some Irish guy | | |
| Installment 14
The way that we, in this period of history, in this North American culture, do school is something that I have always wondered about. Given a lot of thought to. Wrestled with my own unspoken arguments in silence.
How we do school works very well for children who do not resist, who perform well, who tend to conform, who do not question overly much. How we do school works for children, for people, who colour in the lines and repeat after me.
Byron repeated Grade Two. When we moved to Edmonton in the fall of 1987, he started Grade Two. Byron had done well in both kindergarten and Grade One so we expected nothing different for his third year of school. In typical Byron style, he had set the bar for himself quite high in terms of where he wanted to be and what he wanted to learn so it was a good year for him that year with Miss Blackburn. His report card showed that Byron was fitting in well and managing to keep at the top of his class for that year.
One year later, through the summer and into the fall of 1988, something shifted for Byron. Even now, thinking back, I have only suspicions and otherwise no idea of what changed for him. Maybe it was the move that finally caught up with him. Maybe it was his first major collision with the fact that, after all, he was like the rest of the biped inhabitants on this planet, only human. Maybe it was something that happened that I couldn't see or hear or let myself feel with all the other things going on in our lives then. You see, during the spring of '88 a whole tsunami of crucial events happened in our lives: Gregory was born, Lucas became critically ill with an infection in his blood stream and spent 22 days in hospital, I had surgery for an ovarian cyst. All three of these events overlapped each other and both Byron and Katrina were offered a chance at independence, at growing up - I am not going to talk about the overlaying guilt that still haunts me concerning how I couldn't be there for them during those weeks. That the uncertainty and psychological stress that Byron will have picked up on might have caused him some turmoil is something that I can not claim or deny - it is a possibility.
By the fall of that year, Byron had assumed a habit of stuttering. Consistently and unintentionally. He would open his mouth to begin speaking and the words would not come. He would stall there, his mouth open and his arms already flapping, fighting an inner battle with himself as the frustration at the fact that the words couldn't or wouldn't sound out of his mouth only grew. The speech therapist/consultant at the school offered the advise that he was thinking faster than his mouth could keep up. It was a matter of learning to better control his mouth muscles. She told us to remind him to take a breath, collect his thoughts, slow down when he wanted to talk. I figured out that it worked, it helped him speak more easily, if I gave him my undivided attention, put my face directly in front of his, showed him that I was listening. In a house with four resident kids and up to seven 'babysit' kids, it was a challenge but I made it a priority for a while there and within a year of appearing, Byron's stuttering problem mostly disappeared.
Byron moved from Grade Two into the Grade Three along with his peers. That fall, though, he developed a few solid cases of Yellow Bus Fever. Meaning that he faked being sick so he could stay home from school. Byron had never done this before through his school years. He was almost always, even sometimes when legitimately sick enough to be excused from school, eager and anxious to get out the door and off to school. Though some of his siblings and here I am thinking mostly of Greg taught me a lot about the severity and tenacity of chronic bouts of Yellow Bus Fever, it was very unusual for Byron to be using that as an excuse not to go to school.
By the end of September, Byron's teacher and I had shared several talks about him already. Miss Benson assured me that academically things were going along fine or Byron in Grade Three. He was not at the top of his class but he was certainly, she said, in the upper range. But Byron, at home, became a sadder and sadder child. Where I had never seen him mope before, he now moped. Soccer was the only avenue where I saw 'the old Byron' shine. He immersed himself in his love for the sport and played his heart out at practices and games. Thankfully, that year he was on a team that did very well and went on to win the silver medal in their division. But school was a black cloud for him.
At the beginning of October, Byron sat at the kitchen table, his elbows on either side of his math text book, his chin wavering uncertainly.
"What's the trouble, Byron?"
"Mom, look here on page 285 in our math book. We have to learn dividing. I am not going to be able to do that!"
He cried.
The kid was projecting ahead. Looking at what kind of a future might be happening fifteen chapters ahead of where he was. He couldn't see himself doing that. I had noticed, because I was concerned, that his friends had matured through the summer. Byron had always been one of the smallest and youngest, born in December, in his class. Now, in Grade Three, all the kids stood taller than he, all but one frail little girl who was his height. Though he was very fast and ran well, suddenly he was losing races against kids who were just bigger. The kids in his class were telling jokes that Byron brought home and tried on me or his siblings and it was obvious, when he did that, that he didn't 'get' the joke then and hoped by repeating it he might 'get it' at home. A fad involving pogs took off and swept through the grade three and four classes but Byron could not manage to figure out which pogs were 'keepers' and which were 'traders' and so he gave up, letting Adam have his meager collection, and resigning himself to playing soccer on the playground with whoever was out there instead.
"Byron, what do you think it would be like if you could go back to Grade Two where you will be with kids who are your own size?"
"Mom, can I go tomorrow?"
We talked to the principal who said to wait until after the Thanksgiving holiday in the middle of October. We talked to Mrs. Blackburn who had really 'clicked' with Byron in Grade Two and was excited to have him in her class again.
The new carpet in the Grade Two classroom raised more notice and more cheers that first morning after Thanksgiving Day than Byron's 'new' desk and presence. Without missing a beat, Byron settled into the class. Because the work was repetitive and something he had already mastered, the teacher gave Byron 'extra work' to do. His grin and the skip in his step returned within weeks of making the move back to Grade two. For the remainder of that year and then, the next fall, into Grade Three, Byron resumed his 'old Byron' self. On the day when he sat, again, at the kitchen table and faced page 285 in the math book, me hovering over him to hear him tell me that he knew what he was doing and for me to let him be, I knew, again, that it had been the right move.
When we moved away from Edmonton and on to Grand Rapids, Michigan, in 1990, the hurdle that Byron had stepped back and taken another run at was a distant memory for him. Byron never seemed to look back on that time. As usual, Byron focused on what was coming ahead. No regrets. No lingering over 'what might have been'. One day I did hear him tell a friend, "They put me in school too early so I just went back with kids my own age in Grade Two. That's not failing." Case closed and matter resolved. Of course, none of the sweat and tears and prayers and concerns that I laboured over through that time when Byron was so uncharacteristically unhappy can be read here, unless you look closely. But it all worked out, as it usually does when you risk and you hope and you let whatever happens happen.
I often wonder still if an alternative school choice might have been better for Byron. Maybe a Montessori program would have worked better with his energy, enthusiasm and curiousity. Maybe home schooling him and letting him set the bar for his own learning. Whatever the case, I can not help but be sad for the fact that school, the way we do it now and here, works for most of the kids we send there. But sometimes, in some cases, our way of doing school seems to work more to crush than grow, to frustrate than encourage, to make thicker lines than offer blank pages. Sad for those who can't fit into what we offer. Maybe someday someone will offer an alternative that works.
Byron is a natural learner. Always will be. It was a challenge, a fun challenge but still a challenge, when he was young to aim him in directions where his learning would flourish. To take him on 'adventures' that would be opportunities for learning about things, about people, about himself. To answer or make up answers or said, flat out, let's go find out, to his unending stream of wonderings, of questions, of thinking things. To his unquenchable thirst to learn. To know. | | |
| Heyoo, I'm typing. So where the Del have I been these last few months? Here... mostly. There a little bit, and sometimes nowhere at all. Since my last entry I've learned some things... things that are bigger than me, and seem to overshadow most of the trivial crap that normally occupies my mind. No, I don't really want to talk about it. (on here anyway... you can ask me in for real life if you see me)
My birthiversary... was good. I went out and got crazy with the soccer team... ran the drunken gamut... everything from acrobatic drunk to naked drunk. I lost all my ID and had a wicked hangover... also lost one of Katrina's socks which I stole from Greg. Mmm, and I tried to fight a girl... and ripped my pants, got a big bruise on my side, and a bite mark on my arm that broke the skin... So all in all it was a pretty good night. Not one I'll soon be repeating though... I am getting old after all. Also...
I've been budgeting like a mothafucka, it feels good to be in control of my money. I've been working myself into a fairly deep consumer debt canyon over the past few years. No fault but my own... anyway, it turns out I make a lot of money when I don't spend it all on beer and... well, beer. So that's good. Looks like I should be debt free by age 27... not bad considering I had wracked up almost $50,000 cdn.(insert obligatory undervalued canadian dollar joke here).
What have I been reading? Well I just finished Pride and Prejudice...
fuck you... real men read girl books. It was pretty good actually. I might read it again at some point.
Ramona? Is good, and bad. She keeps trying to destroy other dogs. She's healthy though, and loves people. She got her picture taken with Santa Claus.
That's all for now.
Later
Byron V. | | |
| It's my birthiversary. Yahoo for me.
I'll post for really sometime... I promise. | | |
| No excuses...
10 years ago I was: Let's see... 14, in grade 9 at Lambton Christian High School in Sarnia, Ontario. I was really quite short... and I bounced around a lot. I remember I had these Puma shoes that I was pretty happy with.
5 years ago I was: Living in Aldergrove (B.C.) with Del, Dave R. and my friend Dehv. I was working in construction, building big ass greenhouses. I was dating Julie, actually I think she would have just moved to BC around this time.
1 year ago I was: floating around in the same boat I'm in now
Yesterday: I was on a walk on the dyke with Jen. Had some major heavy conversation. Made me kind of scared of tomorrows, and wish for yesterdays.
5 snacks I enjoy: parfaits, pears, toast, boiled eggs, smokies
5 songs I know all the words to: Actually, I'm really good at this for some reason. The songs I have listed I pretty much can do all the lyrics on the album by heart. I have a rule about singing along with music though... it's only permitted if the music is so loud that you can't even hear yourself singing. It really bugs me when people sing along... I crank up the volume when people do that... or change the song.
Fast Car, Tracy Chapman
Crazy Mary, Pearl Jam
Say it ain't So, Weezer
Friend is a Four Letter Word, Cake
Shit-town, Live
5 things I would do with 100 million dollars:
That's too much money. I'd give away all but 5 million, and use that 5 to do all the usual.... travel, play with dogs for the rest of my years on earth, eat, drink, and just generally be merry.
5 places I would run away to:
-Wynja's farm in Seaforth, Ontario
-east coast of Canada
-Russia
-South Africa... speaking of which, I should e-mail Milene, consider myself reminded
-Xanga
5 things I would never wear:
-a matching velour tracksuit
-predominantly brown outfits
-jewelry
-fur
-a damn cowboy hat
5 favorite tv shows : Up until a month ago, I hadn't really watched TV for years... now we have freakin cable though. Maybe that's part of my reason for being so lax in my xanga updating. Really the only show I've gotten into lately is Six Feet Under... it's good. I watched all four seasons on DVD over the past few months.
5 bad habits: nail wrecking, not opening mail, abusing my good credit, buying cars, not shaving often enough
5 biggest joys: sunrise, running at full speed, a job well done, walks with friends (dogs or people), Sunday morning breakfasts
5 favorite toys: Focus SVT, table saw, rock climbing gear, books, big-ass stereo
5 fictional characters I would date: Ariel, Belle, Natalie Portman's character in Garden State, Daisy Duke (as much for the fast driving as for the short shorts), Marissa Tomei's character in Alfie
Hey! Look how crazy this is. I was at my soccer game the other day, and a dude there had two English Mastiffs. A matching pair to Ramona and Elmo! (That's Ram and Elmo in the front, Logan and Lucy in the back.) Look how big Ramona is!
Lastly, I finished the Bookclub book. I'll write about it when it's not today.
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