Schools and Rules are Tools for Fools: Part I of IV

This is part of a four-part series of posts about schoolwork and learning in general. No, don't worry. This is not going to be a soapbox where I whine about doing work. In fact, I would like to discuss three of my favorite aspects of school this year. However, I am going to start with an introduction that may come off as a bit soap-boxy. Please bear with me; I promise it's relevant. :)

"Rules and schools are tools for fools-- I don't give two mules for rules." This extremely creative, original, and oh-so cleverly contrived poem is a quote from one of my favorite, endearingly obstinate book characters: Constance from the Mysterious Benedict Society series (an excellent read, by the way. Why is it that children's books tend to be so much better than books aimed at teenagers?).

I believe that by creating this poem, Constance is expressing doubt in a system that enforces mandatory learning of subjects and material that she feels will not be useful in the real world. She is not entirely correct in her particular case (I can't tell you why without spoiling a surprise in the plot), but she's not wrong, either. It's my opinion that the main problem with the education system in the United States is that it is way too uniformly molded: it is meant to work for every child, and thus leaves a great many children out. I have no problem whatsoever with inclusiveness as a concept, but there are significant problems in making this a reality. In enforcing a system so homogenous, individuality of learning strategies is lost, along with a lot of the whole point of education. Learning becomes something mandatory, enforced, and moderated by adults, rather than something to spark interest in life and a future career, which is what it should be.

I don't deny that it is important to be well-rounded. A really good computer programmer may find himself with no prospects if computer programming is the only thing he is able to do well and all his skills are unneeded for whatever reason during a particular time. However, at the same time, I don't really see why a youth with enormous talent in visual arts, graphic design, or music should have to take AP Calculus if they don't want to in order to have the required number of classes to get into college. It's not that AP Calculus isn't useful. It's just that a student who is definitely going to go into the arts probably won't use it a lot in the real world, and would make better use of their time in high school practicing more pertinent skills.

This is one of the reasons I enjoy homeschooling so much: my study schedule, though not as flexible as popular culture would have you believe, is nearly entirely self-directed. Yes, I still have to take classes I despise and don't personally see as relevant to my life. But I am held accountable for those things, and if they don't get done, I know I won't be able to study what I'm actually interested in later. Additionally, as a homeschooler, I am able to take classes I am truly interested at the times that I want to. For instance, AP U.S. History is a class normally only taken by 11th or 12th graders, and is not even an option for most freshmen in public school. However, in my freshman year, I was able to take it because I wanted to. (I ended up getting a 5 out of 5, by the way. Still happy about that :D).

Because of the flexibility of homeschooling, I was able to take three classes this year that I truly enjoy greatly and would almost certainly not been able to take were I in public school: AP art History, advanced music theory, and a literature discussion group. I'll devote a post in this series to each of them.

~Naddie Boyne

And now I don my music theory teacher's hat...

Through a refreshingly random turn of events, I will be teaching a music theory class to six students between the ages of 11 and 15 for the first semester of this school year. I am both excited and a little apprehensive about this. Excited because music is my obsession and passion and I love sharing it with other people. Apprehensive because while I've taught classes on various subjects before, I've never taught music theory officially and I've never taught anything where I had to write my own syllabus.

Fortunately, I see music theory as pleasant rather than as a chore (most of the time), so writing the syllabus has actually been quite fun. Music theory is nearly impossible to teach in a group larger than ten, so having a class size of six is very comforting. The class only goes until early December, so if I find myself horribly and surprisingly unsuitable for this job I won't  make my students hate me for the whole school year. Just for half of it.

All in all, I'm rather looking forward to it, despite my mild anxieties. This should be an interesting learning experience, and of course I always am pleased to find more ways to share music with people.

And thus concludes the second post of today. I wrote and published two today because I feel guilty about not posting for so long.

~Naddie

Side note: Not that I'm going to actually wear one, but what do you think a music theory teacher's hat should look like? Boater? Fez? Fedora? Dunce cap?

Trash Cans, Procrastination, and Joseph Glidden

Four million African-Americans were freed from slavery due to a Union victory in the Civil War. The Solomon Island Leaf Frog has no tadpole stage but emerges from the egg as a fully-formed froglet. There are ten semitones in a diminished seventh, Joseph Glidden invented barbed wire in the late nineteenth century, and David Tennant played the Doctor for three seasons of Doctor Who.

...And you're probably wondering about now why on Earth I have just supplied you with a string of mildly interesting but almost certainly useless facts. Well, I'll let you in on a little secret. These facts are meant to have the same effect as a magician's flash of light or colored puff of smoke: I would like to distract you from what is actually going on here.

"What is actually going on here, Naddie?" you say. Well, dear reader, in response to your excellent question, you may have noticed that I haven't posted in a little while. Ok, fine, a large while. I had an excellent arsenal of excuses all ready to go, but I have decided to spare you the tedium of the precise nature of my procrastination and instead educate you with useless facts while simultaneously distracting you from my laziness. Two birds with one stone!

Oh, don't worry. I actually do intend to include some worthwhile content in this post, not only distractions, excuses and similes. And no, I'm not posting the waltz I wrote. Not yet. I still haven't figured out how to imbed a sound clip in a post (if you haven't guessed by now, my talents lie outside the perplexing realm of computers and technology). The waltz will have to wait a little longer. However, I recently became very bored quite late at night and the following writing resulted:

Six Good Reasons Why Every Room in Every House Ought to Have Two Trash Cans

1. You don't have to take out the trash so dreadfully often.

2. Each trash can needs another trash can to talk to. This is important. It can get to be terribly lonely, sitting there day after day while everyone's filling you up with trash. Only another trash can can really understand and sympathize with a trash can. Sometimes a really good actor wearing a convincing enough costume can do it, but it should be noted that this is not a good substitute for getting a second trash can for each room because most actors will not put up with sitting still all day while people throw things away in them.

3. If one of your trash cans gets burnt to ashes because some idiot thought it would be good fun to throw away a lighted match, then you've got a spare can all ready to go.

4. If you have to throw away something really big, you can cut it in half and share it between the two cans. Teamwork!

5. If you have a sudden urge to play a game of indoor soccer, pour out the trash from one can into the other. Then proceed to kick the empty can around the room until the game ends or you get bored or dizzy or all three.

6. If you are confronted with a bare light bulb, if you're at a New Year's party, or you find yourself for any other reason in need of an emergency lampshade, empty one trash can into another as discussed in reason #5. Then place the empty can on the light bulb or head. Note: This only works with lamps and cans that are of compatible sizes. Please do not attempt to place a very large trash can on an average-sized human head.

And thus I shall conclude this long-ish post. I hope to be able to post more often now, as many of my scholastic commitments this year have ended or are soon to do so.

~Naddie Boyne