I’ve also been reading The White Trash Mom Handbook by Michelle Lamar and Molly Wendland and simultaneously reading The Case Against Homework by Sara Bennett and Nancy Kalish.  (Both of these books also have blogs authored by the same writers.  White Trash Mom can be found here and Stop the Homework can be found here.

Now, before you flip out and wonder how in the world these 2 are related, give me a chance to explain. 

I live in a small town.  I’m not sure exactly how many children are in my son’s school but let’s just say that for estimation purposes, there are 3 kindergarten classes with approximately 20 children in each class.  Now, there are 9 grades, K-8.  If that holds true for all grades, we are talking about less than 200 students.

So, again, how do these two relate?  It’s easy.  Everything that is said in one book as well as everything I’ve read thus far in the other connect by one essential thread.  If I decide that I want to bulk the system and attempt to make an impact on the teachers in my child’s school and school system, do I have to inherently be terrified of one of the main issues in the other book?

Now, that sentence was worthless I know.  What I’m saying is this, I’ve read all of The White Trash Mom Handbook and over half of The Case Against Homework.  And, if you’ve been reading here lately, you know how I feel about homework.  I feel exactly like Bennett and Kalish.  I think it is foolish and out of control.  But, at the same time, if I attempt to sway the educators in my area (who all know me as a peer for the most part or at the very least the child of a teacher), do I risk what Lamar and Wendland try to warn readers about?  Their warning….whatever you do will be projected onto your children.

Now, as adults, professionals and absolutely for teachers, there should be a magic line where the child’s well-being is taken into account without prejudices from the outside.  But, you and I both know that this simply isn’t true.  We are all human, we all have a difficult time separating such issues as “I’m teaching this child, and his parent(s) are causing trouble for me and/or other teachers and thus I’m going to make it difficult on the child to get revenge.”

Honestly, just writing that sentence made me sick at my stomach.  But, the bare fact is, that revenge is exactly what happens.  No one is immune, not even teachers and administrators.

So, in the coming posts, I’m going to go over some of the issues in both books that I’ve read that I think are important, interesting and that I can lend more information too. 

As you go about reading the posts in the coming weeks, remember, I am the product of a well-known school teacher (and the child that took some emotional as well as obvious prejudices from teachers who didn’t like my father) as well as one who has taught in the public schools myself.  I have owned a daycare and I have that experience to add to  many portions of both books.

So, I ask you, if it were your child, your teacher, your school, and your child’s well-being, would you speak up, regardless of the fact that your own child might be made to pay the price for something that you did?  Be honest.

Part One is here.

I’ve mentioned the manner in which I was bullied and why I think I was bullied.  I explained why I think the bullying was allowed to continue.  But, just in case you missed it, I think it continued noticed but not acknowledges for a few reasons.  One of those being that the people in charge were just as discriminatory as the parents who were allowing their children to hear them talk about me and my parents in a negative manner. 

One of the things I didn’t mention about the bullying factor was that I also believed that my father being a teacher played a role in the whole saga.  Hindsight (my new word just for these two posts), I can see where I received quite a bit of preferential treatment because of my father.  But, it couldn’t hold a candle the horrible manner that I was treated by children my own age nor did it help when teachers and administrators chose to turn their head, pretending not to notice.

Finally, I honestly think at that time (the 70’s) people were simply did not know how serious the whole bullying could and would get.  I mean, you know, I never considered going to school with a gun and shooting the place up.  The adults who were turning a deaf ear knew this I presume.  However, just because I wasn’t the fattest, ugliest, poorest, dumbest kid in the class that was being beat up during recess does not mean that I was not bullied. 

I went to a very small school.  There were about a hundred kids in 9 grades (K-8).  My class typically had between 16 and 20 kids in it and probably 65 or 70 percent were girls.  I suffered from a terribly low self esteem and didn’t cope very well with the bully or her pack. 

If and when the bully-leader and her pack got out of hand and it caused a scene, the teacher (and everyone I had from the fifth grade through the eighth grade, not just one) would take me out in the hall and explain to me that the other girls were just jealous of me and that was why they treated me the way they did.  I always suspected that bully leader and her pack were told the same thing.

Hindsight, I know exactly why I was bulled.  I was bullied because like I said in part one, I had long pretty hair.  I made better grades than anyone (I finished the 7th and 8th grades with the highest grade point average in my class), I was the best athlete among the girls in my grade, I got preferential treatment because my dad was a teacher, I was the teacher’s pet because I was responsible (I had to be, when I started 3rd grade I had to learn to get up with an alarm clock, get dressed and be waiting on the bus all by myself - can you say latchkey kid?), and I will always know that the bully-leader pegged me because I took her boyfriend in the third grade.

How pathetic is that? 

I watch my  kids interact with other kids.  I wonder if they are going to be bullied.  I wonder how I will handle it.  I wonder if I will even be informed.  I wonder ……

I know where the bully-leader is right now, I know where most of her pack is.  I don’t care.  I turn the other way in stores when I see them.  I am not going to fake being glad to see them again.  I simply won’t.  And, honestly, I know I would be quite rude to a few of them.  Without a doubt, I’d be very rude to them.

How mature is that of me?  None really.  But, I don’t care.  In most cases I can take a look at their lives right now and know that my  life is way better than there’s will ever be although I know very little about their adult life.  I know they have to live with the things they said and did to me.  And, if they can live with that, I can live with darting to the next aisle to keep from having to confront them and go to jail.

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Today, at 40, I’m writing 8 blogs, something I absolutely love doing.  I’ve had a book self-published and I’m working on one for possibly 3 to 5 years from now. 

Today, September 3, 2008, I am:

• A Parent (something I’ve dreamed about since I was small)
• A Wife (something I’ve tried to be many times and failed)
• A Daughter (something I’ve always been but not something I’ve always thought about)
• A Granddaughter (Again, something that I’ve always been, and not necessarily the best granddaughter I’ve ever been)
• A Cousin (I think I do pretty well here as I am always available to my family)
• A Niece (again, I’ve always been someone’s niece and I think I’ve always done fairly well with that as well, my family is important to me)
• A Daughter-in-Law (I have been a really bad one and I’ve been a really good one, I think right now, I’m somewhere in between)

And, lastly, I am a teacher.  Period.  Regardless of whom I’m teaching, I feel that deep inside, I was meant to be a teacher.  There are certain venues that bring out the worst in me as a teacher but I know deep down, I have the ability to teach my children right from wrong as well as a little bit about life.  I have the ability to teach my husband about my needs and learn about his.  I have the ability to help my mom by teaching her how to cope with her illness and how to deal with life’s little surprises.  I could go on forever, but you obviously see where I’m going with this.

I am 40.  I am Proud.  And, you can see photos and read more about me by following the links here.

But, the fact is, I just finished White Trash Mom and tomorrow I start The Case Against Homework by Sara Bennett and Nancy Kalish.

Anyway, on the blog, Stop Homework, there is a introduction to how a Canadian Elementary School as Banned Homework.  So, go read it and then continue to read by following the link in the post.

The only other teacher that reacted to me because of “who” my father was taught English in my high school.  Now, this is where this post gets difficult.  But, here goes anyway.  We had to write a paper on something.  I don’t even remember what it was but some form of literature.  Up to that point, no one had taught me essay skills at all….(maybe no one has taught me yet just from looking at the last post). 

So, since I didn’t have the skills to write the paper, I chose a topic that a very good friend had just used to write a paper at the local junior college in one of her English composition classes.  She earned a high “A” for her paper.  In other words, I cheated.

My dad helped me work on the paper (he didn’t know where I got it, I always assumed he thought my friend just helped me) then HE typed it. 

Wait, let me back up.  Before school started the year I knew I was going to have this particular English teacher,  my father said to me, “she crossed the picket line, do not give her any reason to make you look bad, you sit on the front row, you keep your mouth shut and you do exactly what she says.”  And, trust me I did.  I did that so well that I was inducted into the Honor Society just a few weeks before this paper was due.

Side Bar:  The honor society membership was contingent on maintaining a 85 or above average on semester grades.  Now, back to the story.

Where was I?  Oh yea, my dad typed the paper himself (he was a typing teacher, he knew the research paper rules, he could type over 100 words a minute and he knew how to proof read). 

Wait, another side bar:  I’ve made the comment right here on this blog and many many times in recent weeks that I did my own school work (or at least I did my own thieving of it) and my mom and dad never lifted a glue stick or a pencil to do my work for me.  But, my dad did type this paper.  But, he had ulterior motives.  Maybe he was psychic and he saw what was about to happen to me.  Either way, I gotta shut up or this post is going to last forever.

Ok, so my dad typed the paper and I turned it in.  She didn’t give us our papers back (it was probably 2 weeks before school got out for summer when this paper was due), she merely told us what we made on the paper.  I made a 59.

You see, this was very painful for me.  I had made straight A’s until I was in the 9th grade.  Then, I transitioned to A’s and B’s.  My dad was fine with B’s as long as he knew I was working hard.  Anyway, that 59 caused me to have a semester average of 84 in that class and the only grade I had for a semester below a 90.

I had an 84.  I needed an 85 to stay in the Honor Society.  I had an 84.  This is the one and only time that my father went to school to intervene on my part.  He went to the principal because he knew it was pointless to talk to the teacher.  The principal wouldn’t budge. 

I don’t think my father really expected him to, but he did finally get the principal to agree to get the paper from the teacher and allow 2 other English teachers the opportunity to grade it.  I already knew it had earned a grade in the high 90’s in English composition 2 so I fully expected them to at least give me a C for it.  My other grades were high enough that it wouldn’t hurt me and I would have definitely had over an 85 for that semester in that class. 

When the principal returned with the paper, it was not graded in a manner that made it possible for someone else to grade.  And, as you know, I’m 40 years old next week so this was before the land of “oh hey, I’ll go print another one off for the other teachers to grade”.  We needed that paper and we needed it to be readable. 

I didn’t see the paper myself and my father didn’t tell me this himself at the time.  I over heard him telling my English teacher from the previous year about going to see the principal about the grade and subsequently the paper.  (Apparently this one paper carried a lot of weight for that last six weeks but I don’t really even remember)  When I eavesdropped on their conversation was the first I had even heard of him going to school about the paper and the grade.

What I overheard was that the paper had big red X’s across each page and was scribbled and scrawled on until it would have been impossible for another teacher to even read it, never mind read it objectively.  And, with that, the 84 stood and I was removed from the Honor Society.  My father didn’t want me to know this because he was, like me, a firm believer in keeping a positive attitude in front of children about their teachers.

So what was my point?

My point is I do not engage in conversation with people about something a teacher did unless this person witnessed it themselves.  You just have to hear both sides of the story before you bother getting involved in such a vicious conversation.  In my case, she had an opportunity to present her case by turning over my paper.  And, she did.  And, she looked like a fool for it in front of my father, her principal and two other English teachers in the school. 

But, back to my point.  Talking about teachers in a negative way in front of your children is detrimental.  As I mentioned above, my father didn’t even tell me he was going to the school, I had to learn it all through sneaking.  So, when someone starts barking about how horrible a teacher is or how a teacher mistreated his/her child, be sure you have all your information before you make your decision and judge someone that you may or may not even know.

Now, I’m not saying that there aren’t teachers out there that are evil in some ways to some children.  But, barely 2 percent to me means that it is unlikely it will happen.  And, my point with that is, I definitely hope that if/when some of the teachers who know me read this, they won’t judge me for my opinion on homework and then take it out on my children.  I truly believe that teachers strive to be fair and honest in every way possible.  But, you know, there’s always one bad apple..and in this case, there were two.

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First of all, I transferred into a new school in the third grade.  The first 2 years I was in school with mostly family.  (My grandmother had 17 siblings, most of whom didn’t move far away.)  Anyway, when I arrived at my new school, I was the only girl with really really long hair.  You know, like down to my butt long hair.  I immediately took the spot as the top grade owner in every subject.  And, I took the leader of the pack’s boyfriend. 

Now, sounds like I might have deserved what I got, but I was 7 years old.  No seven year old should have to endure the verbal and emotional abuse that I took. For that matter, no adult should either, but I know it happens every day in our schools, in labor jobs and in corporate America.  It happens.  If you don’t believe it, find yourself a newspaper and read it.  However, I don’t buy for one minute that those things played much of a role in why the bullying was allowed to continue. 

You see, my parents were divorced.  We moved from one tiny town into another when my mom re-married.  However, the tiny town we moved into had some religious zealots in it and immediately I was labeled “bad” because, gasp, her parents aren’t married to each other any longer.

Now, I’m not saying that kids bullied me because of my parents divorce and mothers subsequent marriage, I’m saying they were ALLOWED to bully because of it.  The bully-leader had her own reasons but got away with it because the adults in the community said bad things about my family.  You know, because every kid that comes from a divorced home seriously needs help.

And, the bullying continued through the eighth grade.  I always blamed my mom for not intervening.  I once even had a kid 3 years older than me just plain slap me in the face.  I wasn’t planning to tell my mom, I felt sure it was pointless.  However, when I got off the bus at the sitters house, my face was still read (she slapped me prior to me getting on the bus to leave for home).  The sitter and her mom explained to me all these good reasons why I simply HAD to tell my mom what happened. 

I told her.  She did go to school the next morning to check it all out.  And, the people who witnessed me being slapped were all called in and questions were asked.  This particular bully was then called in as well.  She was not punished.  Not even remotely punished.

That said it all.  If a kid older than me could bully me physically, then the bullies in my own class could bully me emotionally and verbally.  And, they did.

While I don’t want to be one of those parents that runs to school every time something happens to my children, I still blame my mom for not stepping in when I would tell her about the horrible stuff that was going on at school each day.

I was hospitalized 2 times in the fifth grade, 2 times in the sixth grade, once in the seventh grade and 2 times in the eighth grade.  The diagnosis?  Nervous stomach.  What was the problem here?  Couldn’t these people put two and two together? 

One of the times I was put in the hospital because my father carried me to the emergency room.  It was my day to visit with him and he had picked me up after school.  I fell asleep in the car (I had horrible insomnia as a kid, no one ever seemed to notice though, I guess my mom just thought I was staying awake on purpose, I don’t really know) and while I was sleeping, I was jerking and grabbing my stomach (or that’s what he said anyway).  He called my mom to tell her that he was taking me to the ER and why.

That was when I was in the fifth grade.  I don’t know why people turned their head to the bullying.  I just know that they did.  And, I can promise you, if my kid comes home and tells me anything even remotely close to the things I was telling my mom, I will be all over someone.

To Be Continued….

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Second, if there is a hurricane somewhere in the gulf, even if it is way west of you, you will playing on the beach one day and the next, there probably won’t be a beach.  The water has managed to come in as far as the fence and railing of the condo.  See

What you are seeing there is the fence of the pool, the chairs by the pool and then you can see the water line.  At some point it has made it all the way tot he fence but currently it just hovers near the end of all those “weeds”.

This, or actually the sound that this makes, is what I love about the beach.  It simply doesn’t get any better than that!

Is that not the most beautiful sight you’ve ever laid your eyes on?

Oh wait, no this is the most beautiful but that up there runs a close second.

Those guys are such hams.

Ok, I do not think that I could adequately teach my child past the seventh or eighth grade.  And, again, not because I’m dumb, but simply because that’s a lot of material to be responsible for.  I’ve taught seventh and eighth grade Earth and Life Science before and I taught tenth grade biology as well.  I have a minor in chemistry, so I’m no dummy.

I keep reminding you guys that I’m not dumb, does that not just speak volumes about my self-confidence?

Anyway, even when I taught those sciences, I was only responsible for those classes, not the entire curriculum.  I know that curriculums are available in a lot of places.  I’m just curious if buying a curriculum and enrolling with the online schools or academy’s makes it any easier to teach all the academics? 

And, with that, I know that many of you have also traveled extensively and are believers (as I am) that traveling and learning is as important as sitting with a book in hand.  Seeing the Eiffel Tower is way better than reading about it for 12 years, right? 

Also, I do not consider this little trip to the beach educational for my child, just want to clarify that this is for fun, educational trips are what I’m asking about.  I am sure we could find many ways to make this an educational trip but the fact of the matter is, we all want to rest and relax and that is just what we are going to do.

So, the questions are this:

1.  At what age do you quit home schooling or do you go through high school graduation?

2.  What curriculum to you use?

3.  If you have used different curriculums over time, which ones do you like the best and why?

4.  What do you do if you are like me and don’t feel qualified to teach your child trigonometry or calculus (although I made A’s in both) or Anatomy and Physiology?

Discuss.

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When word came through that the article would instead be front page of Monday’s paper, you know Labor Day, I almost threw up a little bit.  Wow!  I mean, it is Labor Day, right?  And, my article is about how I labor from home, right?  But, man….how fascinating is that?

And, I’m giving you the link, feel free to go check it out, as a matter of fact, I’d love it if you would go check it out.  And, if you have a minute to leave me some feedback, I would greatly appreciate it and I’m sure the writer of the article would as well.

So, I give you Carbon Hill mother makes money from blogging.