“Are you a man or a mouse?” Perhaps C. S. Lewis had that question in mind when gave form and utterance to one of the most regal and noble of beasts in all of Narnia. No doubt when the Lion of Aslan came bounding in to his mental landscape, so too followed gallant Reepicheep, swinging into view like a swashbuckler down from the high mast of his imagination.
It was said of Winston Churchill that he saw into the essence of things, which is a characteristic of many great men. When you see into the essence of things, it is as if a vail is lifted. You no longer view things simply for what they do. You see into their nature, you sense the heart of the matter. Once you see into a thing’s heart, you can appreciate its beauty, its relationship to things around it, and how it can bless others. Yet, how does one learn to see into the essence of things? It starts with naming, which was one of the first tasks the Lord set before the first man.
We classical educators are well known for our love of books. Whether it's the good old-fashioned hard cover book that smells like moth balls and winter sweaters or a brand-new e-reader that keeps our spouses up at night, we tend to consume literature of all kinds like children consume candy on Easter. Many of us consider our libraries to be our most prized possessions and take seriously who will receive our favorite books when we die. So we thought, why not bring back our Question of the Week feature with a nod to this affection for the written word.
It's no secret that the hardest time of the year for teachers (in most any setting) is the winter, especially February and early March. Students can see summer off in the distance; they can practically smell it, like sailors on some far flung ship who can sense that land is near. Their interest is waning and we teachers are exhausted. Plus it's cold and gray outside (for most of the country). Everyone is ready for spring break. So what to do? To answer that question we asked several of our teacher friends. Here is their advice:
Last week we ran a post that featured 5 tips for homeschooling dads, all of which came from dads themselves. Well, we posed the same question to a group of homeschooling moms who we trust and admire and not surprisingly, these moms had some really great thoughts on the subject.
Here is what they said, in no particular order:
The world of homeschooling is, so often, the world of women. While dad goes to work, mom teaches (and cleans and cooks disciplines and plays and so on and so forth). There are, of course, exceptions to every rule, but for the most part, hardworking and devoted moms do the majority of the teaching in most homeschools. But that doesn't make dad's role in home education any less important. Trouble is, many dads aren't sure exactly how to fit in to the order of the home-school, what part to play and, what's more, how to help mom.
If you’re reading this article today, there’s a good chance you’re either at home on a snow day or just coming back to work after a snow day... or snow days. With the President’s Day holiday last Monday, I’m currently on a six day weekend. I won’t mince words. I enjoy an unexpected day off from work just as much as the next guy, and, at the same time, I am a teacher at a classical school because I think classical education is a good. A boon to society.
Along with our friends at Classical Conversations we're excited to announce our 2015 Lost Tools of Writing essay contest!
For students ages 12-18, this contest is an ideal opportunity for your students to practice (and show) what they've learned this year, with the chance of winning a cash prize too.
Today, being Ash Wednesday, is the beginning of Lent for us Christians in the West. Today, we take the first steps in our journey to Easter, the celebration of Christ’s resurrection. As we enter this season - one of fasting, prayer, and repentance - there are particularly valuable lessons that teachers and parents should take with them.
I recently came across a website featuring paintings by an undergraduate college professor of mine. No, I wasn’t an art major and he didn’t teach me painting—at least, not the kind of art one creates on a canvas. He was one of my tutors at St. John’s College in Annapolis, Maryland, where I earned a Liberal Arts degree as a bonus for the privilege of studying the Great Books.