On the Eve of Homeschooling

Madeline can't wait to officially start school after Labor Day - if you can call 40 to 45 minutes of reading practice and an introduction to basic math as "official" school. Honestly, I think more than anything she'd like a chance to ride the big, old cheesewagon, but, alas, it's a short commute from her bedroom to the kitchen table and thus, no bus is required. Madeline is also eager to start math and was all giddy when our Saxon materials arrived. More than anything, I think, she craves some one-on-one attention with Mommy.

I love her anticipation, her hopefulness that she can learn anything. I don't tell her that "school" isn't going to be all that different from what we do every day - reading lots of books together, praying a decade of the rosary over our breakfast, taking nature walks, answering her countless "Whys?", listening to music, and making art (AKA crayon sketches of happy families and horses, Madeline's favorite subjects).

A lot of Madeline's friends are in "real" school and have been for some time; she assumes she's starting real school now, too. I've never felt like I've been depriving her of anything by not sending her to preschool. Life is her best classroom. Even now as she approaches the age when she'd be thrust into kindergarten, I don't feel she'll be missing much other than, of course, that exciting ride on a yellow bus (one day I will have to crush her romantic ideas of what happens on that bus, that in reality it's one big social caste system and if you're not cool enough to sit in the back, you probably never will be. You can guess where a coolio brace-face like me sat).

No, I'm not worried about my daughter at all even though it appears I failed to give her an academic edge while she was still in my bag of waters (yes, there's now a prenatal education system), but I am, selfishly perhaps, worried about my personal aptitude for homeschooling.

(It is reassuring to know I’m not alone in my doubts and that I seesaw between my love for the idea of homeschooling and my fear of turning it into a reality.)

Everyone from grocery clerks to good friends ask me why we’ve decided to pursue homeschooling. I need to work on a better canned response, but I’ll probably never have a succinct, perfect answer roll off of my lips. It’s not an easy question to answer. No matter what educational option parents choose for their child, there are pros and cons. I have a friend who agonized over which kindergarten she was going to send her child to this year, not because she wanted to start priming her kid for Harvard but because she wants the best for her child and for her family.

Don't we all? The tricky part is deciding just how to do that.

My own decision process involved a lot of reading, prayer, and talking to homeschoolers before me as well as some moms who have chosen to send their children to school.

My research has brought me to the conclusion that for right now homeschooling seems best for my family, largely due to my husband’s chaotic and unpredictable work schedule. When he is home, I want to be able to have the flexibility to spend time together as a family.

Then there are my personal thoughts on what education is and what it isn’t. Education isn’t forcing phonics down a 5-year-old’s throat if she’d rather be hosting imaginary tea parties with her stuffed animals. Education is exposing children to beauty found in good literature, Sacred Scripture, classic art, poetry, nature, traditional hymns, and in the lives of the saints and other heroes. Education is not teaching children how to efficiently master standardized tests. Nor does education have a monopoly on the mind. I believe that in order to raise a thinking, whole child, we must not only train our children’s minds to be analytical, but we must train their souls to be godly as well.

So what will I be teaching to achieve the kind of education I believe in for my children? What curriculum will I be embracing? Again, it’s not an easy answer. It’s one that, I’m sure, will evolve with time.

Here’s what I do know: I loved school and learning (yes, I was a big geek), but I also remember wishing I had more time to read and write and just ponder (I was a daydreaming geek) than just memorize and regurgitate facts. Not surprisingly, the classical approach to education appeals to me. I want to uncover The Lost Tools of Learning for my children and teach them how to think, not simply how to spit out pre-packaged facts like vending machines.

Likewise, I like Dr. Maria Montessori’s teaching philosophy and, in fact, Madeline has thrived in our parish’s Catechesis of the Good Shepherd program, which teaches children tenets of faith using the Montessori method.

Then there is the lovely Charlotte Mason, with whom I imagine I would have loved to share a cup of tea. From the moment I discovered the Charlotte Mason method, I fell in love with the idea of marbling “living books” into our lives, and my oldest and I had already been doing forms of narration together without knowing there was a name for it.

This year we plan to be very relaxed – continuing to read together, starting some basic kindergarten level math. No rocket science here. Yet, I’m still afraid. (Maybe Eeyore just needs more sleep.) I’m afraid I won’t be the best teacher, that I’ll expect too much from my oldest and that my own tendency toward perfectionism will cripple the both of us. I’m afraid of how I’ll balance it all – a baby, a toddler who isn't happy unless she's doing what her big sister is doing, and my first year of homeschooling. I’m afraid my daughter and I will butt heads. I’m afraid I’ll lose touch with my friends who will be meeting for coffee while their kids are in real school. I’m afraid I’ll be too tired after long nights with the baby to be a good somewhat coherent teacher. I'm afraid I'll never have a break - time to nourish my own mind and soul. I’m afraid my decision to homeschool isn’t as noble as it may appear at first glance and that my vanity and desire to come off as a super mom comes into play.

There are plenty of fears. There always have been since becoming a mother. The enormity of being gifted with lives to mold, souls to nurture – whether one homeschools or not – can be daunting, terrifying. But it is in these very fears that I’m forced to seek strength outside of myself – the kind of strength that overcomes the temptation to surrender, to hide behind my insecurities, to flee from what I’m being asked to do.

So my feet are firm, bookshelves are stocked, pencils are sharpened, and my hands are folded in prayer. I am ready for now. I can’t say for sure if I’ll be homeschooling two or ten years from now. I’m trying to keep myself from looking beyond my family’s immediate needs and wants of the moment and to just focus on what I can do and what God is calling me to do at this season of our lives (the latter is particularly difficult and requires plenty of time spent in prayer). I’m also making an effort to cleave my own anxieties and insecurities from the important task of raising my children with a hopeful confidence.

Whatever decision my husband and I make down the road about our children’s education, I do know this: I always want to be their primary teacher. I’ve always believed the place my children go to school is in my heart. How I live my life, the words I read, the words I write, how I face my joys as well as fears will help supply my children with the knowledge they need to learn how to grow up.

Every minute my children spend with me is an opportunity to edify them. I have to constantly ask myself: What lessons will my kids glean from watching me? What attitude will they embrace? What words will they learn to speak and what tone will they speak them with? What habits will they adopt from my own habits that have become woven into the fabric of my daily life?

So this is really my prayer – not to make the perennial decision to homeschool every one of my kids until they leave the nest - but to be graced with the wisdom to be a good teacher to my children now and always.

Encouraging Little Hemingways

One of my "side jobs" is teaching creative writing to children. This summer I've been teaching a workshop of sorts to children, ages 7 to 9. Although I'm paid to nurture these budding writers, I've found the best reward for teaching creative writing to children is not monetary. These kids are filled with raw talent, and I think they inspire me far more than I inspire them. What a gift it is for me to see inside their minds, to see their inner muses unleashed.

As a boring, old and dare I say cynical adult, I don't always notice the small details in life. When my girls and I venture out on nature walks, for instance, I look for big things like the clambering the snapping turtle we recently observed along the shoreline of a nearby pond. But my little ones, they see it all: The tiny trail of ants marching along a fence line, the fragments of mica flickering in the sunlight, plain leaves I trample upon without so much as a second glance...Children are incredibly attuned to sensory details. Maybe that's why they make such good writers - if only we're able to overlook their misspellings and the rules of grammar and logic they're constantly breaking.

Even the children who have a hard time with writing according to their moms are eager to weave words together to tell a story when they're encouraged to create rather than to follow a set of strict rules for writing (I detest the five paragraph essay; I see its purpose, but it's just so confining). Most children are just waiting to let their pencils fly across the paper to create a story or a poem, or even a crazy, creative cluster that begins with the word "night" and somehow spawns words like pizza, fairy, and birthday. We just have to let them create and put aside our expectations for what a story ought to look (or sound) like. There's a time and place for teaching structure, grammar, syntax, and spelling, but every child also needs time to just write whatever comes into his or her mind.

I'm often surprised by what these children come up with. Sometimes when I hear the details they include in their stories like "the ocean foam lapped on my ankles like whipped cream," "the fish was as small as a flaxseed," or "the earthy smell after the rain fills the air, and I'm reminded of my mom's garden," I forget my oldest student is only 9.

Recently, we discussed the hallmark of good writing is to show not tell. As a prewriting group exercise, I wrote the following statement on a dry erase board: "Grandma was beautiful for many reasons." I then asked the children to imagine a beautiful grandma. I pointed out that "beautiful" wasn't simply referring to physical attributes but also to how a person reveals love and truth. Likewise, I told them they could create a mental image of their own grandma or of a fictional one. There were no rules. After they brainstormed for a bit, we went around the room, and each child shared a detail of their "beautiful grandma."

This is what the children came up with:

Grandma is beautiful for many reasons. She has glossy, white hair that reminds me of silver strands. She has a comfortable smell that always reminds me of the comfortable way she lives. Simply. She lives simply. And her kitchen always smells of cinnamon or like an apple pile right out of the oven.

She has sparkly, blue eyes that are always smiling. Her smile is so welcoming - like the smile God will wear when he welcomes me to heaven.

She's the warmest person I've ever known - it's like she carries the sunshine in her soul.

And her voice? It's like a bell. It always rings true.

She's wrinkled, too, like a Sharpei puppy.

Oh, but she's beautiful. Truly, truly beautiful.

Lovely, isn't it? I should note that all my students are currently girls (hence, the silvery strands of hair and puppy references), but I've taught boys as well, and they, too, come up with colorful details.

So let your children write. Hand them a pencil (or pen or even a keyboard) and tell them that for today the only rule is that you must write. And when they share their art with you, put your adult world view aside, talk less and listen more.

Hail, Holy Queen!

Today, in honor of month of Mary, our homeschooling co-op had a processional across the church grounds to crown each of the five statues of our Holy Mother. Each child also had one flower to give to Mary, and we sang songs like Immaculate Mary and Sing of Mary as we adorned the statues with the crowns of flowers. At each statue, we prayed a decade of the Rosary after different children shared the following Marian stories:

St. Dominic and the Rosary

St. Catherine Laboure and the Miraculous Medal

St. Juan Diego and Our Lady of Guadalupe

St. Bernadette and Our Lady of Lourdes

Our Lady of Fatima

We ended our Marian procession with the Litany of Saints. It was such a lovely way to honor our Blessed Mother. I thought I'd share some photos from the event.

Our Lady's myriad crowns, handcrafted by one of our very talented moms



The children bring flowers to Mary



Here's Rae offering her blossom to Mary. Forgive the bad framing by the photographer (me). I didn't realize I didn't get all of Mary in the shot.



The first Mary



The second Mary



The third Mary



The fourth Mary



The fifth Mary



A closeup of one of Mary's flowers



Madeline at the procession

Small Successes 11

1. Thanks to a former homeschooling aunt and her encouragement to start praying the Stations of the Cross at home with my young children, I've found a meaningful way to help my preschooler journey with Jesus to the cross this Lent.

Here's what we're doing to bring the stations into our home: I light a candle and then I read a brief description of each station, say a prayer, and finally ask my daughter to find an object from a small box. The small objects symbolize each station and provide something visual and tangible for her to hold in her hands. We reviewed the stations for the first time using this method last week, and out of the blue yesterday she actually asked to "do those stations" again.

I'm using the following objects to represent each station:

Station 1
Pilate condemns Jesus: A red string (because Jesus' hands were bound)

Station 2
Jesus carries his cross: A cross made from two Popsicle sticks

Station 3
Jesus falls for the first time: A Band-Aid (to remind us of how much Jesus was hurting when he fell)

Station 4
Jesus meets his Mother: A rosary (to remind us of Our Blessed Mother, the pain she endured watching her son suffer, and that she remains close to Jesus even now and can bring our prayers, joys, and sorrows to him)

Station 5
Simon helps Jesus carry the cross: A small piece of white felt with the letter "H" drawn on it ("H" stands for "help" and is a reminder that we should always seek to help others)

Station 6
Veronica wipes Jesus' face: A cloth with a drawing of Jesus' face on it (Here we discuss how we must reach out to others and see Jesus in all things)

Station 7
Jesus falls for the second time: Another Band-Aid

Station 8
Jesus meets the women of Jerusalem: A tissue (to remind us that Jesus is always here to comfort us and to wipe our tears away)

Station 9
Jesus falls for the third time: a cutout of my daughter's hand made of cardstock (serves as a reminder for us to lend a helping hand to those who fall since we could not be there to lift Jesus up when he stumbled)

Station 10
Jesus is stripped: A piece of purple felt (the piece of cloth represent Jesus' garments. I chose purple since this is the liturgical color for repentance and preparation. We talk about how Lent is a time to prepare for the joy of the resurrection.)

Station 11
Jesus is nailed to the cross: A nail

Station 12
Jesus dies: A small crucifix

Station 13
Jesus is taken down from the cross: A postcard of Michelangelo's Pieta (We talk about the sorrow Mary must have felt holding her dead son in her arms and yet, she remained faithful, believing in God's eternal promise.)

Station 14
Jesus is buried: A stone (to remind us of the sealed tomb that enclosed Jesus' body)

Station 15
Christ rises from the dead: A picture of our Risen Lord resplendent in his victory over death!

2. What I've come to refer to as the "interminable incubating" continues as does what the medical community defines as "early labor." It's been almost one month and counting now since I was told the baby's birth was imminent. I'm walking around with a fully engaged baby, a cervix that's almost halfway to the point of complete dilation, and fully effaced.

There's some success in the fact that I haven't given birth yet since the baby has had more time to grow healthy and strong (I just hit the 38-week mark and my second child was already in my arms for over a week at this point after premature dilation), but the real success lies in the fact that my tendency to be completely anal is waning (somewhat), and I haven't gone absolutely insane wondering when baby will fall out (though I have taken to gnawing on my nails). Yes, gravity has turned from foe to friend. Nothing like the unpredictability of babies to help a control freak like me relent and turn things over to God. It's fitting that this is all happening during Lent.

3. We've narrowed down our list of names for our newest addition after my oldest child suggested that perhaps the baby was waiting until we at least had something to call her other than "baby."

Share (and celebrate) your own and other moms' small successes at Faith & Family Live!

Life as a Classroom

I once had a friend lament over how she hasn't signed her 6-month-old up for any baby "classes" yet.

"Are you wanting to get out more?" I asked her.

"No. I'm fine, but she seems bored. I think she needs more stimulation."

My friend is a product of modern parenting and the school of thought that it's never too early to start thinking about getting your kid into Harvard.

I'm not suggesting extracurricular activities are bad for little ones, but they're certainly not necessary. Sure, if you have the time and money, sign your tot up for kid’s gymnastics, music classes or art lessons, but don’t feel like a bad mom if you don’t. I’m no child psychologist, but I think children learn best when they’re given the chance to be kids and to play in an unstructured environment.

When people discover I'm homeschooling, they often ask me all about my "curriculum" for Madeline. Mind you, she's not even 4 yet. Truth is, we have no real curriculum (although I do sometimes pull ideas from a Catholic preschool program called Little Saints). We don't do any formal schooling, but we read lots of books together, do an occasional craft, sing, doodle, and go on walks.

"But do you do preschool in your home?"

Every day is "school" in our home. When we bake together, I let Madeline measure out the flour or count the number of eggs we need. When we go on a walk and notice a butterfly, we talk about our favorite insects. When we're reading together, she asks, "Why?" roughly three times per minute and I'm always explaining and teaching.

Still, the Type-Aer in me and the mom who wants to be as good as the next mom whose toddler is enrolled in Spanish, piano, and creative movement classes is constantly wondering, "Am I really doing enough?"

Of course, my mommy gut (which I've found to be far more accurate than any expert's opinion when it comes to my own children) tells me I'm doing exactly what I should be doing. I'm letting my 3-year-old be who she is - an imaginative child who's curious about her world, who loves to play with her menagerie of animal figures, draw, and whose best classroom is life.

Free Stuff

A friend of mine recently sent me this link, and it's been fun checking out the Homeschooling Freebie of the Day. Even if you don't homeschool, there's some great stuff. Best of all, it's FREE!

From the website:

"Every weekday, Monday through Friday, we’ll post a new homeschooling “freebie” to this site. What kind of “freebies”? Stuff like: Unit Studies… Ebooks… Audio Programs… Games… Samples… Lesson Plans… classic books… and other quality resources! This is the REAL THING.

Many of these will be products that you would normally pay for on their regular websites… but here on the Homeschool Freebie of the Day site, they’re 100% free… at least for that one day! Just download your copy and enjoy! It’s as simple as that!"

How to Raise a Writer

I was privileged to teach a mini creative writing camp to children this past week. The budding Hemingways inspired me with their stories of twin sisters releasing coconut candles into the sea mist and man-eating blueberry muffins. These kids are brimming with creativity and I don't want that to change, so I gave the parents a handout with tips on how to hatch a writer.

I thought other parents of scribes (as well as parents who write themselves) might enjoy these tips. Look for a post on creative writing exercises and online resources in the near future.

Happy writing!

• Encourage your child to write. This sounds like a no-brainer, but sometimes we may think we are encouraging our child when we’re doing just the opposite. Let’s say your child reads you a story that really doesn’t make logical sense. Or maybe your child always writes about a magical world and nothing else. It would be easy and tempting to point out that this or that doesn’t make sense or to ask your child to write about something different for a change. You might feel your words are innocuous, but if you keep pointing to things that are illogical or push your child to write about topics she’s not interested in, it could all backfire.

Kids are sensitive muses (oftentimes so are adults) and we have to be careful when looking at their works in progress. As I explained here, try not to get too focused on grammar, structure, etc. There is a time and place for editing, practicing spelling, developing cohesive and coherent thoughts, but not during a creative writing exercise. Consider having a creative writing time when he or she can write about anything and doesn’t have to worry about the way things are spelled. Then you can concentrate on composition, the art of constructing a paragraph, grammar, syntax, etc. during a different writing session. Your ultimate goal is to raise a child who loves to write because the more he writes, the better he will get at it, and writing well will help him in all facets of life.

• Your child is creative. Not all children are destined to be Shakespeares or Flannery O’Connors, but all children are creative – even the ones who seem to think in concrete terms at an early age.

While some seem to drift through life with their heads in the clouds where there’s no dearth of dreamy ideas, you might have to point your more “grounded” children in the direction of heaven. Okay, before you think I’ve really gone off my rocker, consider this: Barbara Ueland, a writer, writing teacher and the author of If You Want to Write, suggests that the creative power (or the creative impulse to be creative) that we all possess is actually the Holy Spirit.

The brilliant poet and artist William Blake said, “Imagination is the Divine Body in every man.” Of course, just as we sometimes begin to see the world through a secular lens and neglect the supernatural (AKA divine) forces in our life, Ueland says our creativity is “inhibited and dried up by many things – by criticism, self-doubt, duty, nervous fear which expresses itself in merely external action like running up and downstairs and scratching items off lists and thinking you are being efficient; by anxiety about making a living, by fear of not excelling.”

This brings us back to the first tip again: Try not to be so focused on what your child writes that you gloss over the fact that she is writing and trying to listen to her inner muse. Otherwise, she may start to think of writing as a chore instead of a means of listening to the Holy Spirit and a way of expressing her “creative power.” (One exercise that’s helpful is to have children write their own prayer to God. I still do this sometimes and occasionally, I’ll go back and read something I wrote and I’ll think, “Whoa! That was the Holy Spirit talking, not me!”)

• Use a timer with reluctant writers. If your child seems reluctant to write, tell him you’re going to set a timer for five minutes (or whatever time you deem appropriate given her inclination to write, attention span, etc.) and have him free write. This means your child should write whatever is on her mind. There are no rules other than the fact that she must write until the timer buzzes. She can make a list. She can describe the way the pencil feels in her hand or the weather outside. She can write a poem or a song or write a prayer to God like I mentioned above. What she writes isn’t nearly as important as the fact that she’s writing (again, what I said above). The more your child uses his creative power (by writing what’s on his heart and mind instead of constantly completing formal writing assignments), the more he’ll have.

Writing will also get easier. Think of creativity in terms of an athlete. An athlete has to train and warm up his or her muscles to play at the top of his or her game. Likewise, writing exercises like free writing will help your child strengthen his creative “muscles.” Of course, even the greatest athletes play a bad game every once in awhile. Writer’s block is sometimes inevitable, but your child can work through it by free writing or perhaps clustering.

If you're not familiar with clustering, here's how it works: In the middle of a blank piece of paper, write down your starting concept (any word your child wants) and circle it. Now, draw several radiating lines from that center, and put concepts relating to your starting concepts. Circle each of those. From those circles, radiate even farther out and put more relating concepts. The "cluster" of connected ideas starting from a central concept is your finished product. Kids can use these ideas as springboard for a story or a poem (or even a play). You can also cluster an individual character in your novel to learn more about her or even a setting or theme you want to explore.

A mini cassette tape recorder also comes in handy for writers. I use one during interviews and then often transcribe my notes. However, I also find it’s useful when I have an idea pop into my head that I don’t really have time to develop on paper or at the computer. I’ll “say” an idea into my recorder. This is particularly helpful for children who are still struggling with their penmanship. Maybe they write slowly and this frustrates them. Encourage them to “tell” their story first into a tape recorder and then to write it down after they have their thoughts organized. Similarly, a child who writes something but later has trouble ciphering her scribble might benefit from writing their story and then immediately reading it out loud into a tape recorder when the story is still fresh on her mind. Then she can re-write it perhaps more neatly later. Here’s a tape recorder that’s under $20 at Amazon:

• Read great works. By exposing your children to great literary works, you’re not only showing them what it means to tell a timeless story, but you’re allowing them to see beauty. This will not only help them to be better writers, but better human beings as well. Laura Berquist, an expert on classical education, says, “If children love the beautiful, they will love truth, as truth, when they are older.”

As Dostoyevsky once said, “Beauty will save the world.”

• Give them a space to write. Writing can take place anywhere. I encourage kids to carry notebooks to jot down ideas because you never know when inspiration might strike. That said, it’s also helpful to have a space for your aspiring writer that is his own – a place that’s off-limits to younger siblings and even to you. Maybe it’s her grandfather’s desk that’s in her bedroom. Or perhaps it’s outside sitting by a creek (as a child this was my favorite place to write). Ask your child where he or she feels the most inspired and allow him or her to write there in private.

Art Credit: DiscoverySchool.com

Poetry Analysis

If you saw the following lines from a poem by Grace Nichols, what would you guess the poet was talking about?

Tall and blue
true and open

So open my arms have room
for all the world
for sun and moon
for birds and stars

Yet how I wish I had the chance
to come drifting down to earth—
a simple bed sheet
covering some little girl or boy
just for a night

The correct answer: The sky. (The poem's last lines read "...but I am sky/That's why.")

A 7-year-old's answer: God

I didn't "see" God when I first read this poem. I, being the perceptive adult that I am, saw the sky, "tall and blue." But when I read it again after hearing the child's interpretation, how could I not see him? God is true and open. His arms are so open they have "room for all the world."

Even the sense of yearning, the longing to come down to a little girl and a boy took on a whole new meaning for me. God did come down to earth. He became man for all of us. Like the sky in this poem, he was personified so that we would all come to believe in him and to love and serve him. His Precious Blood saved us all. His creation - the sun and moon, the birds and stars - are all around us. I can be so dense though. I am often blind to him and his sacrifice. But to a 7-year-old, God is everywhere - in a poem about the sky, in the white blossoms of a dogwood tree that she describes in her own poetry as "dancing fairies in the air leaving fragrance in my hair." To a child, God is.

Why I Write

Today I gathered around a kitchen table of a friend’s with four pint-sized wordsmiths. A mom in my homeschooling co-op invited me to come over because her son had apparently decided he wanted to be a writer after we did a creative writing exercise together. She wanted me to tell him what he could do to cultivate his craft – write, write, write and read, read, read! So I sat there with this budding writer and some of his peers and we talked about some of the practical sides of becoming a writer (e.g., good college majors for writers), how we can become better writers (e.g., keep a journal) and most importantly, why we like to write.

J. wants to write fiction to entertain people. He said it makes him feel good to see people enjoying a story he has written. C. likes to write to God. She’s only 6 and she shyly opened her composition book and showed me a prayer she wrote – a beautiful, simple love note to her Creator. I love you, God. I want to give you gory. (I tried not to smile when I saw how she’d spelled “glory.” One of the easiest ways to squash a young child’s creativity is to make him or her self-conscious about their spelling or anything else.) H. , who’s almost 8, says writing makes her feel better. “It helps me with my feelings.” Right you are, wise, little one.

There was one reluctant writer in the group. “I don’t like to write. I like to draw. See I can draw,” he said, showing me an impressive doodle of a rocket he’d just finished. It was later revealed that it wasn’t writing itself that bothered him, but the act of writing. He felt his rusty penmanship prevented him from writing what he really wanted to. “I’m too slow,” he said. I suggested he buy a small tape recorder and say his thoughts aloud and then transcribe them later. Or, I told him he could create rebus stories. That way he could use both drawings and words to communicate his thoughts.

I’m passionate about writing and so were these kids. Growing up, I was fortunate to have people who encouraged me to write. I started keeping a journal in 1986; I was six years old. I showed some of my old journals to the kids and they giggled at my sloppy writing and ubiquitous misspellings. I wrote, “We’re mooing” instead of “We’re moving” and “Sheetie is getting big,” instead of “Sweetie is getting big” when I was referring to our Lab puppy’s growth. I also fed "cartits" instead of carrots to Shadow, the horse I rode at horseback riding lessons.

At one point, C. said she loved to write, but that she wasn't sure if she should do it because her writing was really messy. I pointed out, “So was mine,” and showed her another page from journal filled with chicken scratch.

I told the kids that as a child, when asked what I wanted to be when I grew up, I always included “writer” in my top three list (my other two career aspirations were actress and horse trainer). I got my first byline in the second grade when I wrote a story about a plaque detective who climbed into the mouth of children and swung, clutching strands of floss, from molar to molar like a periodontal Tarzan. I'd recently seen the word "neurotic" somewhere and used it completely out of context, describing this plaque monger's work as "very neurotic." My teacher (she was not married to a dentist) loved the story and entered it in a contest. It won, was published and I was hooked.

I want these kids to be hooked, too. I don’t want this passion to die. Even if J., the would-be author, decides to be an engineer instead of a novelist, being a good writer will only help him. Writing is a skill that helps you move ahead in any career.For a brief period, I was in charge of perusing resumes and cover letters to fill a job I was leaving. I was amazed by how many smart people could not write. It can come in handy when you want to become active in politics and write a letter to a senator or file a complaint for bad customer service as well. I told the kids this and encouraged them to write a page a day in some kind of journal. The words didn’t matter, but the act of writing did. They must fill one page with something – it could be fiction, a recount of the day’s happenings, a poem, a letter to a friend, anything that was made up of words.

“And when you’re writing,” I added. “There are no rules.” This made them smile. A subject with no rules! They didn’t need to worry about grammar, paragraph structure or spelling. Not now. Nothing must stand in the way of the creative process. If you start force-feeding punctuation and grammar and other "rules" of writing to fervent scribes too young, too soon, you’ll only make them begin to hate the writing process, or in the very least, they’ll start to self-edit and their creativity will be lost in the frozen, graphic structure of “perfect” syntax.

“Do you want to write something now?” I asked.

“Yes!”

So we did a characterization exercise. In less than five minutes, we developed a character named Fred. He was a 10-year-old boy with brown hair and big feet. He loved to bungee cord jump, but he was deathly afraid of motocross. He worked for the government. Don’t you dare ask how a 10-year-old can work for the government. Set aside your adult logic for just a moment, please.

Then I told them they had to write about this Fred guy. “You may find that your story stops being about Fred and starts being about the orange that started talking to him when he was preparing a snack,” I told them.

They looked at me like I’d lost it. “Remember, there are no rules,” I reiterated.

Then they started to write.

Minutes later, H. asked me if she could read me her paragraph. In only a few sentences, she explained that Fred helped his dad with government projects (see, she didn’t let him being 10 keep him from important work). In addition, she immediately created conflict. Fred’s dad was now missing and he wanted to find him. “I’m hooked,” I said. “I want to know more.” And I did.

She beamed. H. had also written “Fred is a maroon.” One of the other kids asked her what she meant.

“It’s a reddish brown,” she explained.

“Yeah, but what do you mean?”

“Fred is a maroon,” she replied. Like, duh.

I loved this. To her, Fred was a color.

During a prior creative writing class, J. wrote about the adventures Nerd Boy and Sidekick Kid, both of which had a flatulence problem. Another child wrote about a superhero who was horrible at flying his spaceship and often crashed into things. He created such a likable character and was so fired up about him that he filled 10-plus pages about this clumsy and unlikely superhero.

Seeing these kids’ passion for writing and their uninhibited imagination has been a real gift. It’s reminded me of a time when I wasn’t worried about writing for editors or getting published. It reminded me that although I've gotten paid to write PR materials, advetorials, features and essays, fiction is my first love, my real passion. It reminded me that a character can be a color if you want it to be. There are no rules. There are no rules.

I’ve been asked to lead a creative writing workshop/club for homeschool kids. I am humbled by this invitation, but I’m also really excited about it. I’m hoping that my creativity, which these days is too often stifled or self-edited by my worries of what others will think about how I write or what I write about, will feed off theirs. Above all, I’m hoping I can help these children, raw with wonder and imagination, to fall in love with writing and the creative process just like I did with the encouragement of my parents and some teachers and professors of mine. (Thank you, Mom and Dad, Mrs. Isaac, Mrs. Guy, Mrs. Melvin and Dr. Hollifield!)

“Why do you write, Mrs. Wicker?” J. asked.

“For all different reasons,” I answered. “Sometimes I write an article to educate or to inform. I write my blog to chronicle my motherhood and to help me grow in my faith. I keep a prayer journal to force me to meditate and talk to God instead of getting distracted and wondering about what I should make for dinner when I should be praying. Sometimes I write to inspire, to complain or to sort out my feelings. And sometimes, I write just because I want to.”

I should have added that that’s the best reason of all.