Upon looking at the scope and sequence of any classical
curriculum, one often feels an overwhelming sense of awe for anyone who could
accomplish all that’s being proposed, as well as a sinking feeling concerning
one’s own likelihood of being counted in that number. I propose that "checking off all the boxes" is the wrong way to look at a liberal arts education and the right way has more to do with helping our children to more fully realize their potential as human persons--as image-bearers of God.
My 11-year-old son, Alan, has Down’s syndrome. Ever since
his open heart surgery when he was six-months-old, he has been exceptionally healthy. He started walking when he
was 4. Early on, he learned a little bit of sign language to help communicate but
quickly abandoned it when he decided to use words instead. The language he
speaks is a rough approximation of English, but he has certainly created his
own dialect. Fortunately for us he is a good teacher and most of the household understands “Alanese.”
Alan is enrolled in Classical Conversations and is a part of
the “Masters” class in our community with his triplet brother, Calvin, and his
triplet sister, Rose. He spends his morning participating in grammar review
games, science experiments, art projects, new grammar drills and oral
presentations. From the reports I hear, there is very little that happens there that does
not directly involve him as a member of the class.
An oral presentation in a Classical Conversations Masters
class consists of a 1-3 minute presentation from a student to the
class concerning a topic that interests them. These are prepared during the week
prior to class and often involve a visual aid. Alan regularly presents for around
a minute about one of his favorite toys. Woody, Iron Man, and Spider-Man are
the regulars, and his class has become very well-acquainted with those three
toys.
However, upon arriving at class yesterday, we realized that
we had not helped Alan to prepare a presentation. He hadn’t even brought any toys
with him, so we decided he would simply skip his turn to present this week.
Apparently we forgot to inform him of that, because when the time came for him
to present, he walked up to the front of class as per the norm.
Alan spoke Alanese for about a minute, said, “thank you,”
and returned to his seat. Thankfully, Calvin was there to interpret. It turns
out that Alan had related an event from the preceding week about a game of
tug-of-war that he had had with our family dog. Alan has a toy monkey; the dog
loves to chew on that toy; hence the resultant game of tug-of-war.
Alan's presentation yesterday is no small thing in his life or in ours
as home educators. We have been preparing and prompting his presentations for
years. This time, however, he decided that he had something to say without our
prodding. He was given an opportunity to speak publicly before a crowd, he had
been trained into a habit of public-speaking, and he was not going to be denied
his chance to relate an event in his life. We’ll never know if he prepared
this beforehand or simply pulled off an improvisational speech, but either way,
this is huge. Relating a narrative is to imitate his Creator. Having an opinion
is part-and-parcel with his being a human. Having the desire and the chutzpah to pull this off publicly is
nothing less than his becoming an educated human.
Often as parents, we have lower expectations of our children’s
education than we ought because we were educated under the modern, progressive
paradigm, i.e., we set our expectations based on how poorly educated we are. We also have
misguided expectations because we think in terms of “utility” instead of terms
of “humanity.” We tend to measure a person’s utility as a function of their
faculties. We also tend to measure a person’s worth as a function of their utility.
Certain parts of Alan are broken. There are physical reasons why he does not
speak as clearly as a non-Down's 11-year-old. His faculties for public-speaking are
such that to measure him against a non-Down’s 11-year-old would be ridiculous.
But since his utility is not the underlying factor for his worth, the
comparison is not necessary. In reality, that comparison would be
counter-productive. I am not rejoicing in Alan’s presentation yesterday because
he is becoming more “normal.” Curse the bell curve! I am rejoicing because Alan took a step toward his personal potential as a human person—an image-bearer of
God—in society with other image-bearers of God.
When we look at the scope and sequence, read the articles,
and peruse the book lists in the new Classical Conversations catalog, we
quickly realize that the bar has been set high, but the way to measure whether
or not that bar has been reached is probably not what we think. We cannot
ultimately measure success by sheer quantification of facts memorized, books
read, essays written, number of presentations presented, or, God forbid, what
they score on their SAT. To quote Andrew Kern on assessment,
So when we assess—if not numbers what should we be looking for? Well, we teach the liberal arts, right? Seven liberal arts, or maybe just the three—the Trivium. So how do you assess if somebody is mastering the “Liberal Arts?” Liberal—Free—right? That’s what it really means: arts of a free person. What you look for is this: Is that child more free because he learned this lesson or is he less free? I’m not sure how to measure that. You know what it takes? It takes Wisdom. And what’s wisdom? Well, it’s a number of things but one of the key principles of it is knowledge of the nature of a thing—knowing how to treat something according to its nature.
So, I rejoice in Alan’s presentation yesterday in that it is a fruit
of his liberal education. I rejoice that Alan is a free human person and becoming freer every
day.
I really enjoyed reading your story. It served as both a reminder and encouragement. Thanks for sharing it!
ReplyDeleteCame here after Circe shared it and thought I'd say i enjoyed reading it! Reminds me just what we're doing here.. Thanks!
ReplyDeleteThank you!
ReplyDeleteI, too, have a son with Down Syndrome. He is also 11, and presently attends a public school
special ed classroom. I am not as happy with his new middle school teacher (a longterm substitute) as I have been in the past. I am praying about bringing my son home to school along with his typical sister, age 9. I am wondering how you handle your son's therapies. Do you still get them provided? If we homeschool him apart from a public charter, he loses all his district provided therapies. Just wondering.
We're in CA.
DeleteAflowerfairymom: Alan has had therapies from time-to-time over the course of his life, and they have been very helpful. However, therapy has always been contingent on cash flow, so it has always been sporadic.
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