Trusting Little Minds with Big Subjects By Tracy Aitken
A common concern for potential homeschoolers and their loving families,
ranking perhaps right after the number one concern of socialization, is
math and science. “How,” they ask, “do you make sure they are getting
what they need? Which curriculum do you choose? And what happens when
they get to those upper years and Algebra, Physics, Calculus,
Chemistry?”
This concern becomes almost frantic disbelief when one suggests they go
without a curriculum. “What?! How do you teach math and science without
textbooks? That may be well and good for the really little student, but
by age 9 or 10 they need to have their times tables down. It’s the very
foundation, the building blocks, of higher math. And Physics doesn’t
just happen!”
As a life learner, I have to bite my tongue, since my first instinct is
to answer, “If it doesn’t just ‘happen’, then why do they need to know
it?” But in reality, this answer isn’t a comprehensive one. Nor will it
successfully calm the fears of the family that is new to self-directed
learning. As a society, we consider these subjects as big, reverent
topics that require serious lengthy study. The fact of the matter, of
course, is that it does just happen. Math and science just “happen” in
our lives. Below are some examples from personal experience.
Apologetically, all of my examples are from boys, because I have no
daughters; please don’t consider this a gender study!
A five-year-old boy: “Mom, how old is the oldest person in your family?”
Not at all an unusual question for a five-year-old, nor was his response
when I told him my father was, at that point, 65 years old. “Wow, he is
really old, I hope he doesn’t die soon!” I explained that Grandpa was in
excellent shape. He still ran in competitive races (and won); he ate
healthily; his weight was good, as was his blood pressure, blood sugar.
Heck, Grandpa could live to be 100, I said, and that is 35 more
years....that’s how old Mommy is! He could have a whole lifetime ahead
of him, he – “But, Mom, he’d only be 90 in 35 years.” “No, he’s 65 now,
in 35 years...” “But, Mom, three and six are nine, so 35 and 65 are 90.”
So, with pencil and paper, Mom showed him how those two fives turned
into a ten and that ten has to go somewhere, right? After a half-hour of
successful carrying, my five-year-old asked me, “Does this work
backwards?” In a single hour, my five-year-old mastered carrying and
borrowing. Not only would he not have learned that in school yet, the
school system had already announced that, because of his late birthday,
my son wouldn’t even be eligible for kindergarten; he’d be in
pre-kindergarten instead.
A seven-year-old boy, in the car: “Mom, how many miles is it from our
house to the freeway?” “3.3 miles – Daddy measured it for his running
course.” “Okay. Don’t talk.” We were driving to Aunt Deenie’s house at
the time, with two younger brothers in the car. I’m not accustomed to
being ordered not to talk by a seven-year-old, but, okay! While he’s
thinking, let me tell you about the route to Aunt Deenie’s. We have to
drive to one freeway, get on, get off and onto another freeway, get off
that and get onto a third freeway, get off that onto a busy road (with
exit numbers), then drive from there to Deenie’s house. “Mom, how many
miles from Brian Parkway to Aunt Deenie’s driveway?” “About four,
maybe?” I guess, surprised that he knew the name of that busy road. I’d
be hard pressed to come up with the name myself. “Okay, don’t talk.”
Then, presently, “Mom, it is 83.3 miles to Aunt Deenie’s house.” “How do
you know that?” “Because,” he said, “We go 3.3 miles to the freeway,
getting on at exit 36. We get off at exit 52, which is getting on at
exit 151...” and so on and so on. It took me a bit of time (I’m afraid
to compare the actual amount of time to the amount it took my son!) to
discover that he was right.
A four-year-old boy, talking to Grandma on the phone: “Well, I fell down
on the sidewalk and my skin rubbed against it the wrong way. The
concrete rubbed away my skin layers and then my blood vessel broke, and
the blood came out. That’s called bleeding. Bleeding is okay, it makes
all the germs fall out, too. But blood vessels fix themselves fast, so
it stopped bleeding. Now I have what they call a scrape on my knee.”
After the phone call, I asked, “Where did you learn all that stuff about
your scrape?” “[Big Brother] explained it to me.”
A six-year-old boy: “I heard [famous artist] had a stroke, Mom. Which
side of his brain did he have the stroke on?” “I have no idea, honey.”
“Well, I sure hope it wasn’t his left brain, because he’s probably right
handed, and then he’d maybe not be able to draw anymore.”
As you can see, the question most asked in my house is “How do you know
that?” I’m the one who is always asking it. In this case, the answer
was, “We watched the Discovery channel last night for our bedtime story;
it was about how the brain works.” My children will choose either a
book, a short video/show, or a made-up story for their “bedtime story.” There’s no telling what they’ll choose; the previous night Daddy
had put them to bed while I went out, so I was unaware of the choice.
A six-year-old boy: “When do we go on vacation?” “About three weeks.” “A
week is seven days.” “Yes, it is.” “Let me think. That means, two weeks
would be, um, 14 days?” “Yes.” “And so three weeks would be, hmmm, 21
days?” “Yes.” “Three weeks sounds like a long time, but 21 days sounds
even longer!”
A nine-year-old boy: “Look at my new LEGO, Mom. It has remote control
with a motor, and see what happens when you push this lever? And there’s
a secret hiding place here. This hinge makes the leg go up to kick and
over here, if you flip up his head....” “Wait. When did you get new
LEGO?” I generally know when new toys are acquired, since I am the one
with the checkbook. “Oh, this is just stuff from other LEGO I had left
over.”
A twelve-year-old boy: “Mom, come listen to this song I made up on
SimTunes.” “Wow, this is really good! Did you get the background picture
from the gallery?” “No, I drew that. See, it’s a rainforest song. This
part sounds like the rain and that part is the thunder. The guitar is
supposed to be lightening; I guess it’s the closest sound lightening
would make, sort of electric. And so the picture is of the rainforest.
Want to see my other songs?” “I sure do!” “Okay, this one is a math
song, see the background and how I used multiplication for the pattern?
And this one is cyberspace; this one is Bionicle....”
By the age of six or seven, all three of my boys were familiar with
solving for the unknown. I find I use rudimentary algebra on a fairly
regular basis, and I think it is really a neat skill to have. Whenever I
catch myself doing it, I show it to the closest boy; it’s a puzzle
solved! Because I think it’s neat, they think it’s neat too (this
technique works best, obviously, when they are still in the “Mom knows
everything” stage.) And then when they need to find an unknown, they
will show me how they did it.
While I can’t give you examples about physics and calculus (because I
don’t use these enough to recognize them when I do), I know my boys have
some basic knowledge of both. We have a lot of building/thinking games
in our house, from Brio train sets that they put together in every
possible permutation as very little boys (I know there is some physics
in there, with the bridge building, etc.) to marble ramps, where they
really have to calculate, or work trial and error, to get the proper
angles and set up or the marble doesn’t run through. LEGO has been a
major factor in our lives, of course. And all our computer games are
educational in some way. I have purchased a lot of logic games so that
the boys can stretch their minds. In a way, one may argue that these
games are not part of “everyday life,” so shouldn’t count as an
example...but the games are not being used to teach in a formal setting,
so I will use the example for that reason.
While I doubt that my six-, nine-, and 13-year-old are ready for college
prep courses (though perhaps the eldest is), I can argue confidently
that they have strong foundations in math and science. I know that,
should they choose a profession that requires heavy math or science
skills, they will do well. Many times, people use cooking and grocery
shopping as science and/or math examples. I don’t, because they are a
“given,” as is money management, on the ice cream truck/allowance level.
It may sound like my boys are science/math-minded but, actually, they
are history buffs, as well as insatiable readers. Math and science are
just what happen along the way!
Tracy Aitken and her husband Jeff unschool their three boys in Spencer,
North Carolina, where she runs a thriving home business.
