Over the next few months I want to introduce you to some of the growing trends in home education. First up is the  classical Christian movement. These schools are springing up around the country at an astonishing rate – but what about home schoolers? Can we apply this educational model in our homes? No one knows better than Susan Wise Bauer, home school graduate, college professor and author of the The Well-Trained Mind.

This week, I’ve asked Susan to define this model for us.

Could you please define classical Christian education for our readers?
“Classical” doesn’t mean a return to the content taught in Greek and Roman schools – if it did, a classical education would mean Latin and Greek language instruction, the reading of Latin and Greek literature, and the study of mathematics. I think this would strike most parents as a partial education!

Rather, “classical” refers to a pattern of training the mind first used in medieval education, and followed in European and even in American schools until relatively recently. Classical education proposes that learning take place in three stages. The early years of school are spent in absorbing facts, systematically laying the foundations for advanced study. In the middle grades, students learn to think through arguments. In the high school years, they learn to express themselves. This classical pattern is called the trivium.

An Overview of the Trivium
The first years of schooling are called the "grammar stage" -- not because you spend four years doing English, but because these are the years in which the building blocks for all other learning are laid. In the elementary school years (what we commonly think of as grades one through four) the mind is ready to absorb information, but not necessarily to criticize or analyze it. Children at this age actually find memorization fun, but many will be frustrated by curricula that force them to draw conclusions from evidence. So during this period, education focuses on the learning of facts: rules of phonics and spelling, rules of grammar, poems, the vocabulary of foreign languages, the stories of history and literature, descriptions of plants and animals and the human body, the facts of mathematics. Classical education submerges the child in fascinating information.

By fifth grade, a child's mind begins to think more analytically. Middle-school students are less interested in finding out facts than in asking "Why?" The second phase of the classical education, the "Logic Stage," is a time when the child begins to pay attention to cause and effect. A student is ready for the Logic Stage when the capacity for abstract thought begins to mature. During these years, the student begins algebra and the study of logic, and begins to apply logic to all academic subjects. The logic of writing, for example, includes paragraph construction and learning to support a thesis; the logic of reading involves the criticism and analysis of texts, not simple absorption of information; the logic of history demands that the student find out why the War of 1812 was fought, rather than simply reading its story; the logic of science requires that the child learn the scientific method.

The final phase of a classical education, the "Rhetoric Stage," builds on the first two. At this point, the high school student learns to write and speak with force and originality. The student of rhetoric applies the rules of logic learned in middle school to the foundational information learned in the early grades and expresses his conclusions in clear, forceful, elegant language. Students also begin to specialize in whatever branch of knowledge attracts them; these are the years for art camps, college courses, foreign travel, apprenticeships, and other forms of specialized training.

But a classical education is more than simply a pattern of learning. Classical education is language-focused; learning is accomplished through words, written and spoken, rather than through images (pictures, videos, and television). Language-learning and image-learning require very different habits of thought. Language requires the mind to work harder; in reading, the brain is forced to translate a symbol (words on the page) into a concept. Images, such as those on videos and television, allow the mind to be passive. In front of a video screen, the brain can "sit back" and relax; faced with the written page, the mind is required to roll its sleeves up and get back to work.

The Focus Is History
Classical education also focuses around history. To the classical mind, all knowledge is interrelated. Astronomy (for example) isn't studied in isolation; it's learned along with the history of scientific discovery, which leads into the church's relationship to science and from there to the intricacies of medieval church history. The reading of the Odyssey leads the student into the consideration of Greek history, the nature of heroism, the development of the epic, and man's understanding of the divine.

This is easier said than done. The world is full of knowledge, and finding the links between fields of study can be a mind-twisting task. A classical education meets this challenge by taking history as its organizing outline -- beginning with the ancients and progressing forward to the moderns in history, science, literature, art and music.

We suggest that the twelve years of education consist of three repetitions of the same four-year pattern: Ancients, Middle Ages, Renaissance and Reformation, and Modern Times. The child studies these four time periods at varying levels -- simple for grades 1-4, more difficult in grades 5-8 (when the student begins to read original sources), and taking an even more complex approach in grades 9-12, when the student works through these time periods using original sources (from Homer to Hitler) and also has the opportunity to pursue a particular interest (music, dance, technology, medicine, biology, creative writing) in depth. The other subject areas of the curriculum are linked to history studies. The student who is working on ancient history will read Greek and Roman mythology, the tales of the Iliad and Odyssey, early medieval writings, Chinese and Japanese fairy tales, and (for the older student) the classical texts of Plato, Herodutus, Virgil, Aristotle. She'll read Beowulf, Dante, Chaucer, and Shakespeare the following year, when she's studying medieval and early Renaissance history. When the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries are studied, she starts with Swift (Gulliver's Travels) and ends with Dickens; finally, she reads modern literature as she is studying modern history.

The sciences are studied in a four-year pattern that roughly corresponds to the periods of scientific discovery: biology, classification and the human body (subjects known to the ancients); earth science and basic astronomy (which flowered during the early Renaissance); chemistry (which came into its own during the early modern period); and then basic physics and computer science (very modern subjects).

This pattern lends coherence to the study of history, science, and literature -- subjects that are too often fragmented and confusing. The pattern widens and deepens as the student progresses in maturity and learning. For example, a first grader listens to you read the story of the Iliad from one of the picture book versions available at any public library. Four years later, the fifth grader reads one of the popular middle-grade adaptations -- Olivia Coolidge's The Trojan War, or Roger Lancelyn Greene's Tales of Troy. Four more years go by, and the ninth grader – faced with the Iliad itself -- plunges right in, undaunted.

Sounds fascinating and rigorous, but what about the “Christian” part?
Why haven’t I said anything about “Christian”? Because I strongly believe that parents who are Christians will give their children a Christian education while following this pattern. We say in our book, The Well-Trained Mind, that it is impossible to be neutral in education. And this is particularly true for classical education, which centers around the discussion of ideas. These questions cannot be answered without taking a stand on issues of truth. I don’t believe that a “Christian” education consists of using math or grammar programs that continually cite Bible verses; rather, a Christian education is one that grapples with the ideas of history, science, and literature in the light of God’s truth, revealed in Scripture and through the faithful obedience of Christ’s church. If you want to give your children a classical Christian education, you’ll have to work at it; there are plenty of resources to help you, of course, but you’ll have to commit yourself to faithful membership in a local church, and to continual self-education in the foundations of your own beliefs, so that you can provide your children with the wise discipleship they need as they encounter the ideas – good and bad, true and false – of men and women throughout history.

Next time, Susan gives us a peek into her home schooling day, discusses her favorite resources and tells us what’s up next on her creative agenda.

In His Sovereign Grace,

Debra

Part II

Debra: Why do you think this is an important core curriculum for homeschoolers to follow?

Susan: In my college teaching, I am continually forced to recognize that most high school students graduate from twelfth grade unable to think, unable to write, unable to analyze an issue or take any meaningful stand on it, and incapable of tracing the historical development of the ideas that they encounter.  Classical education equips students to think clearly, to write and argue persuasively, and to understand where philosophies and ideas come from.  I am convinced that men and women who are able to do this will always lead those who can’t.  Following the classical curriculum equips home schooled students not just to do well in their academics and jobs, but to lead all those who are less well prepared!

The classical education is, above all, systematic -- in direct contrast to the scattered, unorganized nature of so much secondary education.  This systematic, rigorous study has two purposes.

Rigorous study develops virtue in the student.  Aristotle defined virtue as the ability to act in accordance to what one knows to be right.  The virtuous man (or woman) can force himself to do what he knows to be right, even when it runs against his inclinations.  The classical

education continually asks a student to work against his baser inclinations (laziness, or the desire to watch another half hour of TV) in order to reach a goal -- mastery of a subject.

            Systematic study also allows the student to join what Mortimer Adler calls the "Great Conversation" -- the ongoing conversation of great minds down through the ages. Much modern education is so eclectic that the student has little opportunity to make connections between past events and the flood of current information.  "The beauty of the classical curriculum," writes classical schoolmaster David Hicks, "is that it dwells on one problem, one author, or one epoch long enough to allow even the youngest student a chance to exercise his mind in a scholarly way: to make connections and to trace developments, lines of reasoning, patterns of action, recurring symbolisms, plots, and motifs."  Every student should have the opportunity to receive such an education!

Debra: What differences do you think there are between a classical Christian home school and a classical Christian school?

Susan: Flexibility!  Classrooms can be wonderful at teaching children difficult subjects, but even the best classroom lacks the flexibility to tailor the curriculum to each child’s strengths and weakness.  Parents may lack specific knowledge in a subject, but they have the great advantage of knowing their child’s learning style.  And they have the freedom to adjust curricula to the child’s needs.  The growth of home schooling means that there are many more parent resources for subjects that have traditionally been tough to do at home – science, advanced mathematics, foreign languages, and so on.

            I have to say also that I have seen MANY Christian schools where peer pressure – not necessarily to be immoral, but simply to conform, to be popular – is destructive, even though the school itself is morally unimpeachable and academically excellent.  I continue to think that my own young children are better off at home, in a protected, one-on-one environment.  I know this isn’t possible for many families, and I would certainly never presume to judge or condemn anyone who chooses a classroom education for their child!  But for our family, home schooling is best.

Debra: How did you come to write the Well-Trained Mind? How has its success changed your life?

Susan: My mother home schooled my brother, my sister, and me beginning in the early 1970s, when home schooling was still largely unknown to the wider public.  She had been a schoolteacher, and had received a classical education herself -- thanks to tutoring by her foster parents, who had attended a turn-of-the-century one-room schoolhouse here in rural southeastern Virginia.  She used classical methods with us, and we all did well, going on to college, grad school, and good jobs. 

When home school groups started to ask Mom to speak, she discovered that many parents wanted to give their children a good, rigorous, academic education, but that unschooling and relaxed learning movements had scared many parents away from classical curricula.  She also found that parents were overwhelmed by the sheer number of book choices out there – when we started home schooling, there was very little material available.  Choice is great, but it can also produce paralysis!  So we wrote The Well-Trained Mind together for two purposes: first, to give parents an overall plan and philosophy for a good academic education that is both rigorous and interesting; and second, to suggest “starting curricula” for each subject in each year.  There are many good materials that can be used for classical education, but we wanted to give parents concrete, practical suggestions for getting started.  Our feeling was that parents who understood the philosophy we were laying out and who used the specific books and curricula we recommended for a year or so would then have a good “feel” for the requirements of classical education and for their own child’s strengths and weaknesses – and would then be able to “springboard” from our recommendations to choose their own materials.  The book’s specific and practical suggestions have helped many, many parents get started on the great adventure of classical education!

Next Time: I’ve saved for last an intimate peek into Susan’s homeschooling day, and her comments on the most neglected skill in home education.

You can find more out about homeschooling from a classical, Christian perspective at Susan’s Web site www.welltrainedmind.com.

In His Sovereign Grace,

Debra

Interview with Susan Wise Bauer: Part 3

This week, I wrap up my interview with the energetic and articulate homeschool mom, Susan Wise Bauer, author of the Well-Trained Mind.

Can you give us a peek into your homeschool?  How many kids?  What are you doing with them? What resources have you found most helpful?

I have three boys, aged nine, seven, and almost four; we’re expecting our fourth child in mid-October.  So my own home school is still elementary-level (although much of the information in the book is drawn from my own home school education, which stretched from first grade all the way through twelfth grade). 

For me, the most valuable resources are those which teach skills (grammar, writing, spelling, mathematics) in a systematic, thorough way without demanding a huge amount of teacher time.  I think of education as consisting of skill areas and content areas (history, literature, science, art).  I’m committed to the importance of continual (daily!) practice in skill areas until skills are entirely automatic, but I like to spend my interaction time with the boys on discussing the ideas we encounter in the content areas.  So I’ve greatly appreciated the skill-building resources that take a minimum of preparation on my part: A Beka grammar workbooks, the MCP Spelling Workout series, Writing Strands, Saxon math.  That frees me up to go find great history and science and literature books at the library.

In the fall I jotted down a typical home schooling day for my three boys, then just turned three and beginning first and third grade.  I think it’s a realistic picture of classical home schooling – periods of chaos interspersed with valuable learning!  Since my husband and I both work, I do school in the mornings and he does school in the afternoons.  Here’s my day:

SCHOOL AT THE BAUER HOUSE

Fall of 1999: a day with a first and third grader and a three-year-old

6:30 AM: I meant to get up at 6, but I got to bed late last night and now I'm dragging.  I drink a quick cup of coffee and go for the 3 1/2 mile walk I try to take at least four times a week.  The boys

don't usually get up until 8 AM; if they wake up, they read in bed until I come to get them.  Peter (my husband) has a breakfast meeting this morning and won't be back in our home office until around 2.  I ask my mother (who lives in an adjoining house here on the farm) to open the connecting door between our households and keep an ear out for screams.

7:50: I get back from my walk and decide I don't have time to shower.  Instead I do a load of dishes and go in to get the boys up.  They're all awake.  Benjamin (six) wants to do school in bed this morning, so I get him a lap desk and serve his cereal and milk on it.  Christopher (8) and Daniel (3) get up and dressed, and come into the kitchen for breakfast.

8:30: I've been shuttling between kitchen and bedroom for half an hour.  I tell Ben that if he needs any more food, he'll have to come into the kitchen to get it. Christopher's finished eating (toast

and scrambled eggs), but Daniel's still working on his plate, so I start Christopher on his cursive penmanship (which he can do by himself) and get Ben's books together.

8:45:  Christopher finishes penmanship; Ben finishes breakfast; Daniel drops his plate.  I give Christopher his grammar book, explain the rule in today's assignment, and tell him to start the exercise.  Then I wipe up the eggs and take Ben's penmanship into his room.  I still have to watch him do his writing, because he wants to do his circles backwards, so I stand beside the bed and say, "Up and around towards the wall! Up and around towards the wall!" while he writes.  Daniel

climbs up on the bed.  Ben protests.  Daniel yells. Christopher bellows from the kitchen that he's done.  I tell Christopher to be patient, Ben to be tolerant, and Daniel to stop grabbing Ben's pencils.

9:05: I take Daniel into the kitchen with me to check Christopher's grammar.  He's made two punctuation mistakes.  I mark them and ask him to correct them and find me the rules that apply.  Daniel asks for his markers, so I put him at the end of the table with his marker basket and a pile of scrap paper.  When I get back to Ben's room, he's finished his penmanship and done all the remaining circles backwards.  I make him write five more the correct way around.

9:15:  Christopher's ready to do his Writing Strands assignment.  Today he has to do a Good Deed report, so I persuade Ben to get out of bed and bring his brother a little bowl of M&M’s.   Christopher is supposed to write an account of this, but everyone now wants to eat M&M’s, so we have our snack break (way too early).

9:20: Daniel is covered with red M&M goo.  That "Melt in your mouth, not in your hand" slogan is a LIE.

9:25:  Daniel's in the bathtub.  I put Ben back in bed with his Spelling Workout book, explain what he has to do on the next two pages, and ask him if he can do it alone.  He says he can.  I go into

the kitchen and ask Christopher to tell me what just happened.  He says, "Ben brought me some M&M’s."  I say, "No, tell me exactly what happened from the beginning."  "Ben came in the  room," he says.  "What next?" I ask.  "He gave me M&M’s."  "Wait," I say, "where did they come from?"  "You gave them to him," he says, looking at me as though I'm feeble-minded.  "No," I say, "you have to tell your reader that Ben was holding M&M’s in his hand, or else the reader won't

know where they came from."  "Ben had M&M’s in his hand," Christopher says.  Daniel yells, "I want my octopus."  I tell Christopher to think of a title for his story and write it at the top of his page.  Then I find the octopus, check on Ben (who has actually DONE his work -- I am astonished), tell Ben he's wonderful and he can play Legos for a minute, and then go back to the kitchen.  Christopher has written, "Ben Brought Me M&M’s" at the top of his paper.  We talk through Ben's "Good Deed" for a few more minutes, and then he begins to write the sentences down, one at a time.  I start to make brownies -- this morning, my father and grandfather and a couple of other men are outside running the sawmill, and we usually take them coffee and goodies around 10:30.

9:55:  Christopher has written two sentences.  "Isn't that enough?" he asks.  "No," I say, "you need to finish the story."  I go in Ben's room and listen to him read me a chapter out of Owl Stays

Home.  Daniel is pouring water on the floor, but since he's out of everyone's hair, I put down three towels and try to ignore it.

10:05: Christopher has written three sentences.   "Isn't that enough?" he asks.  "No," I say, "you need to finish the story."

10:10:  I start the coffee, and then call Ben out for a piano lesson.  We work for about 15 minutes before his attention starts to flag.

10:25:  Christopher brings me a page of writing.  I praise it and ask him if he'd like to see how to set it up as a newspaper story in Microsoft Publisher.  He says he would, so we turn on the computer, open the program, and type "The Paper" as the title of the newsletter.  He starts to type his story into one of the column (hunt and peck method).  Ben puts on his boots and says he's going to go tell the men that the snack is coming.  Daniel appears in the living room, stark naked and dripping water.  "The train got out of the tub," he announces.

10:40:  I finally get outside with the snack.  Christopher wants to stay in and work on his  newspaper story.  Ben and Daniel and I eat brownies with the men and go for a little walk around the house.  Both of them step in a puddle and get soaking wet.

11 AM:  When we go in, Christopher's getting tired of typing.  I show him how to save the program and tell him to practice his piano when he finishes.  I put Ben and Daniel into dry clothes and go to

take the wet ones down to the laundry room.  When I come back, they're having a fight.  I put Ben on his bed and have a talk with Daniel, and then sit Daniel on the sofa and go have a talk with Ben.  "I can't possibly practice with all this noise going on," Christopher complains.  "Tough," I say.

11:15:  It's time for history.  We're reading about Michelangelo today; I have a fairly difficult book with great pictures, and an easy book with not very good pictures. I read to them from the difficult book, paraphrasing when I can to make the text easier, and stopping to ask questions occasionally (to make sure they're listening).  Daniel climbs in and out of my lap the whole time.  Ben thinks that having a saw that can cut stone is "cool."  He asks if he can draw a picture of it.  I agree, and when we're done reading he sits down to draw a picture of a stonecutter's  workshop.  Christopher wants to write about the David.  He's a little overwhelmed by the  statue's....nakedness. 

We talk about Renaissance views of the body and of man's greatness.  When we're done, he writes, "During the Renaissance, people painted pictures of naked people.  They thought the body was beautiful.  They also made statues of naked people."  I put this in his History Notebook.  I write, "A Stonecutter's Workshop" on Ben's picture and put it in his History Notebook.  Daniel falls down and bumps his head.  I pick him up and carry him around (he weighs 35 pounds).

11:55:  The boys go out to feed the rabbits.  I look at the schedule.  We alternate chemistry and history; today was a history day, so we'll do chemistry tomorrow.  Both boys have done their penmanship; Christopher did his grammar (he does spelling on alternate days), and Ben

did his spelling (he'll do spelling every day until he finishes Spelling Workout A and moves on to English for the Thoughtful Child); Christopher did his writing, and Ben his reading, and we all did history and piano practice.  They're supposed to do art today, but when I look outside they're cleaning the bunny cage, so I don't call them in.  I sit down and read Richard Scarry's Word Book to Daniel for the eighty-sixth time.

12:20: The boys come in covered with bunny hair.  I make them both change (Christopher's slightly allergic) and sit Christopher down to read a chapter in his current supplemental history book (a biography of Paul Revere -- it's the wrong time period, but he listened to Johnny Tremain on tape and got interested, so I'm practicing flexibility).  I make sandwiches while Ben and Daniel get into another fight.  I make Ben sit on the sofa next to Daniel and read him a book, on the principle that good actions drive out bad behavior, but unfortunately Daniel head-butts him while he's reading and they both start to cry.  I sit Daniel in a chair at the table for another talking-to and send Ben in to play Legos.  Christopher says, "I can't possibly read with all this noise going on."  "Go in my room," I say.  He goes in my room and yells, "I can still hear them!"  "Tough," I say.

12:25:  I talk to Daniel and then take him in to apologize to Ben.  "I'm sorry, Ben," Daniel says.  Ben hugs him too hard.  They both fall over and Daniel starts to cry again.  I take Daniel (still

howling) back to the kitchen and tell Ben to stay put until I get lunch on the table.

12:45:  Lunch is finally on the table.  Christopher has just finished his Paul Revere chapter.  He goes and gets his Lego sub, and he and Ben have a big Lego battle in between bites.

1:05:  Christopher and Ben wash their hands and get ready for quiet time on their beds.  They have books on tape -- Christopher is listening to the Redwall series, and Ben is listening to The Mouse and the Motorcycle.  I put Daniel in his bed, read him another book, and turn on his tape recorder.

2 PM:  Peter gets home.  The boys are still in bed.  I have to go in to the university library this afternoon to work on a research project, so I put something in the crockpot and get bread on to rise.   Peter will do Saxon math with both boys and read them a chapter out of their current literature book -- a story about the Norman Conquest.  Christopher also has Latin vocabulary cards to drill.  I leave around 3 PM, planning to be back about 6:30 for dinner.

What’s up next on your creative agenda? 

 Right now I’m finishing my current novel, which is about technology, religion, virtual reality, and the Olympic games.  I’m also working on a history narrative for grades 1-4 that would replace the Usborne History of the World, which we recommend for elementary history – the History of the World is a good text, but it does present information in a rather scattered way.  My narrative is more similar to Hillyer’s A Child’s History of the World, but it includes activities, suggested readings, and comprehension questions.  I’m developing this for an online curriculum provider, but hope to also publish it in print form if I can find an interested publisher.

Feel free to add a question you d love to answer, but I haven t asked.

What do I think is the most neglected home school skill?  (Not science, although it’s a close second!)  Writing and systematic grammar.  Please, please, home school parents – keep on doing a systematic grammar and composition program EVERY year until those skills are COMPLETELY automatic!  And require students to write in every subject area, continually!  I’m a little discouraged to see the level of writing achievement among home school students – and their lack of grammar skills.  Rod & Staff, A Beka, Shurley Grammar, Writing Strands, Institute for Excellence in Writing – all of these provide good, thorough grounding in grammar and writing skills. 

In His Sovereign Grace,

Debra