On February 28, 2008, a California appellate court surprised the world. In the case of Re: Rachel L., they reinterpreted the state's education code and handed down a ruling that said, in effect, homeschooling is now illegal, unless the parent is a certified teacher. Well, man oh man, the news hit the wire within mere minutes. The media picked it up, everybody from the San Francisco Chronicle to FOX News ran stories. Homeschoolers from coast to coast began blogging about it, writing emails to friends, posting it to mailing lists, updating their web sites. It was a tense situation, but then it turned into a downright earthquake. A few days after the fact, HSLDA (the Home School Legal Defense Association) sent out an Alert to its members, requesting signatures on a petition they intended to send to the California Supreme Court. They wanted the Court to "depublish" the original decision so it couldn't take away your homeschooling rights. Or mine. Parents read it, panicked and forwarded the link to all corners of the globe.

I am here to say, relax. The sky is not falling. And please ignore this petition. It'll just annoy the court and it's not needed in any case. HSLDA should have checked with the folks in the know in California -- the state homeschooling organizations -- before they unilaterally stepped in and broadcast their alarmist "solution." Unfortunately, HSLDA's SOP seems to be to Leap Before Looking. I'm not a big fan. And here's the tip of the iceberg why.

Anyway, the situation is well in hand. Gov. Arnie came out with this statement, championing home educators' rights and denouncing the ruling, causing cheers and high fives across the nation. The two big state organizations, CHN (California Homeschool Network) and HSN (HomeSchool Association of California) are keeping a close eye on the situation. They also have several members who are also lawyers, working on finding solutions. In addition, Debbie Schwarzer, HSC's Legal Team Co-Chair just posted two great updates, Appellate Court Case, Please Remain Calm and the even more amazing Good News Update announcing that two of the finest law firms in the state have offered their help! Pro bono no less! (In other words -- FREE.) (WOW.)

Here are the best places to to check for updates. (These folks are much better at this stuff than I am.)

A to Z's Home's Cool
HEM Takes a Closer Look: Is It Time for California Homeschoolers to Panic?
Home Education Magazine: News and Commentary
Homefires: California Homeschool Legal Challenge

In closing, what's this got to do with us here in the adjoining western states? Everything. Nothing ever happens in a vaccuum. What you can do: Pay attention to the news. Know your homeschooling law like the back of your hand. You can't stand up for your rights if you don't know what they are.

Tags: Home School | homeschooling | legal

Well, the youngest son's 21st birthday celebration has come and gone. Why did I ever think we were done homeschooling? How many times over the years have I said that learning just happens, despite society's arbitrary timetables? Apparently, I have to keep teaching myself this same lesson. Maybe I'll write it 100 times on my grocery list or something.

This time the main gist of our learning was about wine. Specifically, the red ones Matt, birthday-boy, wanted to try. First, it was a glass of Chianti (and every time I see that word now, I always think of Hannibal Lector mispronouncing it in Silence of the Lambs), since we were at an Italian restaurant, and Chianti is, mom decided, the traditional Italian wine to have with dinner. At least, I think it is. Anyway, birthday boy took a sip, made a face, looked at me and said, "Is this how it's supposed to taste?" So I, being the [cough] expert, having been raised above a bar, followed by a liquor store, took a sip. Ugh. It was heavy, mouth-puckeringly dry, and somewhat rancid. If that's even a term one can use when describing wine that's been sitting around too long.

The waiter was very nice, tho. He said "no problem, ma'am; perhaps it has gone over - that happens sometimes" (which actually didn't do much to boost my confidence about what we'd just ingested) and brought us our (well, my) next choice: Pinot Noir. This was a shade better, but still too heavy and not fruity enough. Then the waiter suggested Merlot. That was very nice of him I thought, but Ewwwwww. I'll certainly never do that again. Merlot's right up there with Cabernet Sauvigon, which I discovered many years ago to be more of an endurance test than a drink. I kept wishing for a Rosé or even a wine cooler. Alas, no such thing on the menu. O well. We tried. We gave up on the wine tasting and went back to plain old ice water. From the looks on their faces I don't think either son will be eager to try red wine again anytime soon.

And do you know what they're charging for a glass -- not a bottle, not a carafe, mind you -- just a glass of wine these days? $7.95 - $10.95! Boy, I'm certainly glad my oldest son Adam was helping me pay for this dinner. Sheesh.

Speaking of the restaurant, it is a funny name isn't it? Buca di Beppo, literally translated, means "Joe's Basement." It's one of those fairly new, yuppie, supposedly family-style joints, which I tend to avoid with all my being. A yuppie I am not. But, "Joe's Basement" made me feel like well, hey, maybe this one won't be so bad. Hmph. I should've stuck with my first impression.

It started out well. The background music was a combination of Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin tunes (if you're smiling about that, try renting Return to Me from Netflix, you'll love the soundtrack), along with some Mario Lanza opera-type wailing I could just as well live without. Just as we were looking over the menus, Donna Prima Donna by Dion started to play (click on Song of the Day in the sidebar to listen to it). That really made me smile. Oldies always put me in a good mood. Why don't they have fun, danceable music like that anymore?

I don't know for sure . . . but I have my theories. Anywho, this is why I hang out at:

iTunes
They even have an "iTunes U" now. It's learning by music. Hmm. Did they snitch the idea from me, do you think?

Napster
You can listen to a song 3 times before you buy it. I like that, because there's usually many, many versions.

Love Potion #9 - The Clovers
One of my oldies you can listen to.

Elinore - The Turtles
(or "Eleanor" - I've seen it both ways) Another of my oldies on this blog.

The Last Time I Felt Like This - Johnny Mathis
The most beautiful voice on the planet. Next to Patsy's, that is.

Sneaking in a Pop Mini-Quiz here. Do you ever listen to these songs when you come to visit? Or is it just me? (Yes, you probably think I'm digressing here. I'm not. Repeat after me: Life is learning, learning is life. Life is . . .

Now, for being a 'family-style' restaurant, there certainly weren't any families in attendance. The food ended up being so-so, and one or two of the entrees we tried actually were big enough to maybe feed a young family of 4. But, the prices! Holy cow. What average family could afford this? We were looking at a bill of over $100 for three people! The service, on the other hand, was fabulous.

But, what really decided me were the decorations. Those walls were busy. Pictures and sketches and sculptures and colorful doo-dads everywhere. Sophia Loren, Joe DiMaggio, Gina Lollabrigida, scantily-clad women in provocative poses, unidentifiable buildings (maybe these were in Rome? Sicily?) .... everything you could imagine and then some. I don't think there was one inch of empty wall or counter space in the entire place. In the middle of eating, I spied a photograph in the sea of busyness tucked up in the corner, just behind my oldest son's head. I kept looking at it, thinking, is that what I think it is? Nah, it can't be. Finally, I got up and walked over to view a close-up. Yup, I was right. It was a photo of two dogs fornicating.

I know my kids are grown adults, and I'm not that much of a prude, but what is such a picture doing in a family restaurant? In any case, I certainly don't want to look at something like that while I'm eating. I wanted to complain, but my sons were protesting, oh mom, don't start a fuss. So, I didn't. But it still bugs me. Has anyone else run across places that aren't really what they advertise?

---

The songs on this site are copyrighted by their respective artists and are placed here for education and evaluation purposes only. No profits are made on this site from their use. If you like what you hear, purchase the song from iTunes or buy the entire CD at SecondSpin.com and keep great music alive!

Tags: unschooling | homeschooling | oldies

Seems this is not a widely known fact, but summers in Colorado are hot. And I do mean hot. Yesterday it was 98 degrees, today it peaked at 99, and tomorrow doesn't look much better. I've been spending my time, alternately melting and sweating like some overexerted, red-faced little farm animal (very unlovely). And then today was also the day to take my youngest son out shopping. It wasn't a matter of choice, actually. He and I work such opposite hours, a day off together is as rare as hen's teeth. (Gee, and I sound like my grandmother.) Now, I did try not to torture the boy with too much of my music on the car radio. Really. I only tuned in for one song. Well okay, two.

Love Potion #9 - The Clovers
One of the songs on the radio.

Elinore - The Turtles
(or "Eleanor" - I've seen it both ways) [from Hum a Few Bars, 6/28]

Napster
Listen to a song 3 times before you buy. Purdy cool.



Sonny, in turn, tried not to turn my brain to mush either. He likes Gwen Stefani, Christina Aguilara, new age stuff, like Enya and Enigma, but mostly techo-dance-sounding-tunes that are so generic I can never remember the name of any of them. Two of my songs, followed by two of his .... well, we love each other, but that was enough of the radio for one trip.

Now, if you know me, you know how much I like to shop. That is to say, not at all. Not unless I have to. Not unless the cupboards are bare, my jeans have disintegrated in the wash and my tennies will no longer hold together, even with string. (People tell me I'm a weird female. I guess so.) But today's excursions were unusually fun, even with the heat, because they were part of two celebrations. The first being that after 2 years in college, taking a scattershot of classes from theater arts to remedial math, followed by another 2 years of hiatus from the halls of higher learning to work and decide what he wanted to do, my youngest son has finally decided to re-enroll in college this fall.

YAY!! :picture mom dancing around the room, grinning like a fool:

The second celebration is sweet/bittersweet, and a little amazing. We were shopping because his birthday is in a couple of weeks. He'll be turning 21 this year. Twenty one. My baby. A legal adult. It wasn't so much an O.M.G. moment as it was mom-nostalgic. I was driving along, listening to him chatter on about friends and work and buying books for college, and half my mind went its own way and called up a vivid picture of a little boy with straight, silky, dark hair, a bright yellow jacket, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle sneakers on feet almost too big for his body, a tiny smile finally breaking thru the cloud of tears in his beautiful brown eyes. His still-pudgy hand was encased in mine and we were walking away from the school building, away from everything he and I had known as 'education'. He didn't utter a word, but he didn't have to. Those eyes said it all. Thank you, mom. I don't want to be called 'slow' anymore. I don't want to go to the doctor and be diagnosed with ADD. I'm not a troublemaker. I'm just bored and I don't learn this way. I want to go home with you and my big brother, where it's safe to be me.

It was April of 1993, a chilly and overcast and blustery month that year, and he was 6 years old. We were leaving public school to start homeschooling. His brother walked up and took my other hand. All three of us were happy. I was also feeling a few thousand other things. Fury at the school. Excitement at the upcoming adventure. Sheer terror about my non-expertise. What if I messed them up forever?

As I glanced over at my now six-foot-three giant of a teddy bear, I remembered that this was the child that refused to read until age 10. The one who detested any and all textbooks, worksheets and tests. He taught me that learning math from Legos and baking cookies was entirely possible, that invented spelling until age 14 meant nothing more than a creative mind was on the job. I got 2 frown lines and at least 4 grey hairs along the way, but eventually he taught me to stop worrying so much. Right then, as my mind was wandering thru the past, he was trying to teach me about ancient religious beliefs in Mesopotamia. Which, as you probably already know mom, is now split up into Iran, Iraq, Syria and Turkey? Of course, son, we all know that. (yeah, right) I shook my head and winked at him, and he grinned back knowingly. This is the same child who entered college for the first time age age 16 to be an actor, and is going back at 21 to get his A.A. and then a Ph.D in Theology. With a minor in Mathematics. He likes making up his own Calculus problems now, just for fun. What an eclectic resume that boy's going to have.

Er, that man, I mean.

We pull up to a stoplight and he asks me if I'd like to have a glass of red wine with him on his birthday. He's never tried it before, but he knows I grew up around such stuff, and he needs help picking out a kind to try. I look over at him and smile. A little bit of that bright yellow jacket still hovers in the background of his shirt, like a superimposed layer of etched memory. His feet are bigger than ever now, a size 13 E. I reach over and his big, bear paw of a hand swallows mine. It's hard to speak with all those memories floating thru the air, so I just smile some more and nod.

Red wine it is, son. And here's to you.

---

The songs on this site are copyrighted by their respective artists and are placed here for education and evaluation purposes only. No profits are made on this site from their use. If you like what you hear, purchase the song from iTunes or buy the entire CD and keep great music alive!

Tags: music | unschooling | homeschooling | oldies

Click here to listen to Cindy's song of the day whilst you read. (opens in a new window)

There i something I've always wanted to do on a website, and that's to create a place that would remind you of my home, had you been over for a visit. I mean, isn't that what I'm doing anyway? Inviting you into my world? Yeppers, I sure think so. So, if you were here, this is what you'd find. Nothing fancy (or matching, at this point), just a down-home, simple place. Full of warm colors, good smells of candles, cooking and (right now) orange juice, and me sharing my two favorite things in the world with you. I have no idea if this will work, but hey, I had no idea how to do a statewide homeschool conference, either. It came off beautifully, tho. And that's life for ya. Or more apropos, that's unschooling.

My first favorite thing: Writing. I started writing at the age of 0, I think. According to my grandmother, I popped out of the womb, already in love with words I couldn't even read or write yet. As a baby, whenever I'd start fussing, Gram would read to me or tell me stories of her childhood, and as soon as she'd start talking, I'd grow quiet and calm. When my pudgy little hands finally figured out how to grasp a crayon, I advanced to scribbling on anything and everything handy; napkins, scratch paper, placemats, the sidewalk, the insides of books. I drew picture after picture of princesses with pointy cone hats and veils, extremely big teeth (I liked toothy smiles, apparently, but never got the hang of drawing them) and for some reason, my gals were almost always walking up or down stairs. I scribbled long pages of text, telling the story of what each of my princesses were doing, but don't ask me what I wrote. Maybe a hypnotist could go that far back in my little girl's mind, but I sure can't. By my teenage years, I was into composing lovesick / angst-ridden poetry and things-that-go-bump-in-the-night short stories. I had one published once, but it's not competition Stephen King would ever have to worry about or anything. Adulthood was filled with children, working and homeschooling, and writing about homeschooling. (if you're really interested in what I've done previously, see About Me in the sidebar)

My second favorite love has always been music. From toddlerhood on, music, both current songs and what they now call "oldies", enthralled me. Elvis would come on the radio, for instance, and I'd stop pulling myself up on the furniture, my eyes wide, and listen (He still has that affect on me sometimes. Except, I know how to walk now). Music became even more a core of my life because my parents bought a beer bar/restaurant combo in Wisconsin when I was 4. I grew up there, in an apartment above it, til the age of 14. My job, besides waitressing in Gram's restaurant, was to take care of the 45 rpm records that came off our jukebox. I think I was about 6 or 7 when I started doing this. The reason my mom picked me (over my 2 older sisters) for the job is because 1) I was forever bugging customers for a dime for the juke, 2) I knew what song was going to play "as soon as the needle hit the record", and 3) they could never find me to do my waitressing. I was either singing and dancing by the jukebox, or holed up in the apartment upstairs, glued to the hi-fi (that's a stereo to you youngins) or my AM radio, listening to a warbly, static-filled WLS out of Chicago.

When I was 15 and had moved to Colorado, I got this hankering to be a radio d.j. My mom suggested that I find out what the job was really like before diving in. Good idea, mom. (It wasn't the first time she suggested an unschooling route for learning something, but I'll bet she'd be surprised to know that how she taught us kids to learn had a name.) So, I spent my entire 15th summer calling up the d.j.'s on my favorite radio stations and talking to them in between songs. It was fun, interesting and ultimately disheartening to find that the d.j.'s don't determine most of what they play. 90% of it is pre-chosen by the programming manager. PMs, according to the disc jockeys, attended meetings, wrote reports and calculated what amount of radio play each song would get, to appeal to the right audience and generate good revenue. Ugh. I neither wanted to wade thru statistics all day or play someone else's list of songs, pretending that I liked them all. I wanted freedom, maybe even my own radio station. Like the rockin' one Stephen King eventually started.

Perhaps I'll get rich enough one day to have such a thing. I'll invite you over. In the meantime, this is all we have. Welcome to Cindy's Place.

---

The songs on this site are copyrighted by their respective artists and are placed here for education and evaluation purposes only. No profits are made on this site from their use. If you like what you hear, purchase the song from iTunes or buy the entire CD and keep great music alive!

Tags: music | oldies | unschooled

Blog Forecast: Expect scattered, occasional rants on the state of home educating today. Spotter activation will not be needed.

---

I recently had a conversation with Helen Hegener, managing editor of HEM, and one of our conversation threads meandered over to the subject of support, and support groups themselves. We've both been hearing several support group leaders lament on email lists about the declining volunteerism of their members, due to general lack of interest, time, money, or what-have-you. The leaders are trying to figure out why, and what to do about it. In the meantime, they're running out of energy trying to keep things afloat. It's not just happening here and there. Oh no, it's a nationwide trend. And that's not to imply that it's a new complaint, either. These same woes have been going on as long as I've been homeschooling.

For instance, in 1994, about a year after I began, I joined the original statewide organization here in Colorado: CHEA. CHEA was the all-inclusive group that had rallied homeschoolers across the state to come together, formulate, compose and work to get our home school statute passed into law in 1988. (Sadly, CHEA no longer exists. It went kaput around 2001.) Anyway, when I got there in '94, there were a total of 6 volunteers and $57 in the bank account. That was it. This was the state organization that put out a bimonthly newsletter, manned a Homeschooler FAQ Telephone Hotline, kept watch on the Colorado legislature for us, and sponsored the National Scripps Howard Spelling Bee and Odyssey of the Mind for homeschoolers? I was astounded. I was flabbergasted. Heck, I was horrified. These people needed help.

After a few meetings and a feel for what they needed and how things worked, I, (being my oddball, energetic self), dived right in. I made an estimated 2.4 million phone calls, rounded up a slew of volunteers (many hands make light work), became Volunteer Coordinator, Newsletter Editor, revamped their antiquated advertising rates, contacted every support group we knew of in the state to update the outdated 4-year-old contact info, and got elected to the Board of Directors. Within a year, CHEA was solvent again. In fact, they were so in the black, we began planning our first-ever statewide conference. None of it was easy. But, it was necessary - if I wanted to keep my inclusive, statewide org alive. And it was fun. It's very satisfying to succeed at something you believe in.

Getting folks to volunteer to do something (anything) within a support group has always been a struggle. Me being me, I see it, but I don't get it. Don't people want the satisfaction of keeping their dreams alive? Don't they want these wonderful support centers to be there when they need them? If you don't pitch in and contribute a little, who's going to? "Somebody else"? Who are these somebody elses? If every one of us said that, there'd be no support groups left in the world.

It was a problem then, but it seems a lot worse now. There's a lack of connection, or commitment, or something. There's this feeling of disconnectedness out there. Support groups struggle to get started, and then they struggle to stay afloat. Helen and I wondered if it was because of the internet boom. I mean, it seems to be, read your email, pop off a reply or two, and there you have your 'support'. Okay, that's fine, that's great. It works. For awhile. But, what about IRL? Park days? Mom's Night Out? Spanish or Science classes? What about mentors who'll answer your phone calls and speakers who'll share their expertise with your group? Do we all live in a vacuum? I certainly wouldn't want to homeschool in one. Good grief, I wouldn't have a single shred of sanity left by this point.

So it begs the questions: should we be thinking about support groups the way we always have? Or are we veterans being too 'old school'? Maybe we should be envisioning Support 2.0 instead? (Whatever that might entail.) But if that's not it at all, what could we, should do, can we, do about this ho-hum, I-want-it, but I-won't-help-out attitude?

Any ideas? I'd love to hear your comments.

Tags: Support | Home School | volunteering

A couple of friends asked me, of all the inventive names I could've come up with for this new blog, why in the world did I pick The Sound of Learning? Now, I'm only guessing, but I'm assuming they meant to imply the name didn't sound inspiring. Too simple, perhaps? Too Plain Jane? Or maybe they couldn't associate it with anything familiar.

To me, picking the name was all about association.

I've been homeschooling a long, long time. Since 1993 in fact. And yep, my kids are grown and gone. But, I'm still homeschooling. I homeschool myself. Maybe that sounds funny, but homeschooling isn't just about educating kids. It isn't only about grades K-12, or yearbook pictures, or passing the SAT with a 1400, or donning caps and gowns. These are just arbitrary timelines and society's so-called important milestones. It's about sisters and brothers, uncles and aunts, and in-laws. It's about quietly getting up at O-Dark-Thirty to watch a sunrise in your jammies, holding cups of steaming, homemade hot chocolate. Days when you figure out there must be a better way to open a new bag of flour other than ripping it wide open and having it go POOF all over the kitchen. It's about the lifelong friends we accidently meet when the car breaks down on the side of the road. And it's about parents as well; the journey homeschooling takes us on, slowly changing us along the way, taking us by surprise. We discover that, despite everything else going on in our lives, we [ahem] old folks still love to learn. We find that waiting for a simple baking soda and vinegar 'volcano' to erupt, or spending days composing silly lyrics out loud with a 6 year old, to a song that will never be published, all because her older brother has taken up some very out-of-tune guitar-playing (absolutely sure he's going be the next Eric Clapton and thrill us with his award-winning music videos on VH1), delights us more than any outside career ever could. Our days are a crazy patchwork quilt, filled with 1001 little, tiny learning moments that inspire, intrigue and spark our rusty imaginations into gear like the days we celebrated single digit birthdays. Most days are full of bursts of laughter. We collapse into bed every night, exhausted, but never having felt so good about the world or so close to our children.

That's what I was thinking about when I named this blog. All the laughter, all that fun we had. I don't think I've ever laughed so much, or been so creative, or learned as many things, as when I homeschooled my boys. All those nutty things that happened (most of them unexpected), the constant kid-noise, the endless questions and chatter, the impromptu field trips - now, that's The Sound of Learning.

Homeschooling shouldn't be a chore. It shouldn't give you a headache. And if it does, hey, back up, change a little and try something different. What have you got to lose? Learning is fun, it should make you and yours happy. To quote a famous line from a popular movie, ". . . And I'm not talking about no – Mmmhh, this tastes like real butter kind of happy. I'm talking about … Julie Andrews, twirling around like a mental patient on a mountain top kind of happy now. That’s the kind of happy I’m talking about."

My sentiments exactly. And I did do some twirling around at times (yep, there are a few home movies, and nope, you don't get to see them), but thinking about Julie Andrews led me to another thought; The Sound of Music. My eyes lit up. How perfect! How apropos! I mean, think about it. First we see her on that mountaintop, singing one of the most joyous songs ever written, an ode to the day, an ode to every new experience that comes her way. She does try to contain herself, to behave and follow all the rules, but the girls' so full of life and plain ol' unabashed happiness, it's a continuous battle. She's basically a square peg trying to fit herself into a round hole because that's the way she thinks she should be (sound familiar?). Her fellow nuns know it, and they shake their heads in bemusement, asking How Do You Solve a Problem Like Maria? They see that's she's got to stop forcing herself into that round hole and find another way. Wisely, the Mother Superior sees it as well, and decides to send Maria away on a task, to give her time to think and discover who she is.

And what Maria accomplishes in that temporary assignment, just by being herself! My, my. Quietly balking at whistle calls and regimentation of the children, making clothes out of what's handy (fairly ugly drapes), teaching the kids to climb trees, row boats, learn music, sing songs, put on a complicated puppet show, deal with personal fears, first heartbreak, and finally, that you can't just run away from your personal problems and expect them to go away on their own. Does this sound like a homeschooling family, or what?

For those of you that don't know, Maria is a real person. And this is the true (albeit Hollywood-ized) story of what happened to the blended von Trapp family. Of course, they didn't burst into song every 15 minutes (I don't think so, anyway), but it's definitely a great family movie I'd recommend watching. We did. Then we read the book for comparison. It ended up being the springboard to a fabulous history lesson. Not to mention world culture, geography, modern media, and songwriting (Hoping it would help the kid improve his sour guitar playing. It didn't. Oh well, mistakes are learning, too.).

The Sound of Music - The Sound of Learning. It should always feel this way. For me, it still does.

Tags: Home School | unschooled | volunteering