Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
Jul 16 '00 (Updated Jul 24 '00)
My littlest guy just turned 5. He's a constant source of amazement to me. I suppose all kids that age are. They see the world so differently than us larger folk.
I homeshooled his brothers, but they attended school for several years before we opted out. In some ways, Matthew is very much the first - certainly he's the first of my children never to attend school.
Homeschooling families are constantly seeking the best way to provide an education for their children - not the best for all children, but the best for the individual children in their care. With Matthew we have so far chosen a hands-on, eclectic, delight-directed learning path. As he grows, the path will change. For now, there are some days when he teaches me, some when I teach him. More often, we learn together. I sometimes plan Matthew's lessons. Sometimes, they just happen.
A few days ago, he brought his injured thumb to me to bandage. He's quite fond of those new Nexcare ® "tattoo" bandages which I do so want to review, but they're just not here yet. I digress, though. I cleaned his "boo-boo" opened a box of adhesive bandages, got out the Neosporin ®, and we had a short health lesson as I prepared to dress his wound.
The box has an assortment of wild animals (science lesson). Matthew selected one with a tiger's head on it, fangs bared in threat. They are totally cool to a 5 year old boy! As I put the Neosporin ® onto the bandage and placed it on his barely visible injury, I recited the introduction to William Blake's classic poem The Tyger.
I hadn't intended it, but we went right on into a literature lesson - as he demanded the rest of the poem. He is so serious about these things that it is humorous at times. It's generally easier to humor him if I have the time and he's polite about asking. Out came the book because, sad to say, I no longer remembered the other stanzas.
From literature to a brief anatomy lesson (read the poem) and back to literature as I turned the page and read him Blake's The Lamb. This latter poem inevitably lead to a brief religion lesson from which I learned as much as Matthew. Then he was off again to discover new worlds (play) and I went back to preparing dinner.
We have a ritual each evening. We get out Matthew's notebook and he dictates to me the high points of his day (composition). Incidents like this often qualify. I type them, print them, and put them in his binder. Then we read back over the preceding days and weeks in his journal (history). He is fascinated with letters, words, writing. He isn't proficient yet, but his desire to learn burns as brightly as Blake's Tyger.
pantazis5 wrote an epinion expressing the view that all parents homeschool. It depends on how you define that. Certainly all parents teach their children. It helps if you are prepared to take advantage of those "teachable moments" though.
Whatever your chosen educational path. I highly recommend helping your young child keep a journal. Much of Matthew's is repetitive, but he loves it. His fascination with words grows daily. I learn what is important in his life and how he views the world around him. I only wish I had thought to do this with his older brothers.
So you won't have to look them up:
The Tyger
Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye,
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?
And what shoulder, & what art,
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand? & what dread feet?
What the hammer? what the chain,
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? What dread grasp,
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?
When the stars threw down their spears
And water'd heaven with their tears:
Did he smile his work to see?
Did he who made the Lamb make thee?
Tyger! Tyger! burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye,
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
The Lamb
Little Lamb, who made thee?
Dost thou know who made thee?
Gave thee life, and bid thee feed
By the stream and o'er the mead;
Gave thee clothing of delight,
Softest clothing, woolly, bright;
Gave thee such a tender voice,
Making all the vales rejoice?
Little Lamb, who made thee?
Dost thou know who made thee?
Little Lamb, I'll tell thee,
Little Lamb, I'll tell thee:
He is called by thy name,
For he calls himself a Lamb.
He is meek, and he is mild;
He became a little child.
I a child, and thou a lamb.
We are called by his name.
Little Lamb, God bless thee!
Little Lamb, God bless thee!
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