by MARK SILVIA
“There are two ways to slide easily through life, to believe in everything or to doubt everything.
Both ways save us from thinking.”- Alfred Korzybski
Earlier this week my wife showed me a blog post entitled ” The Case Against Home Schooling” by Jesse Scaccia. I have never been a person particularly interested in the communication genre of the blog. As a matter of fact, as an English professor I have been quite close-minded about about the practice. I viewed blogging as a communication model that was not worthy of my serious academic consideration, my time, or my intellect. After all, it isn’t really effective communication- it’s more of a narcissistic practice, right? As a “blogger” why would I have such an ego as to think that what I have to say really mattered to others? Please just put it in a diary under your bed. It’s narrative therapy anyway.
Then I read his post, it’s hundreds of reactionary comments (of which I participated), and its worth became more gray to me. There is obvious emotional power in the genre of the blog.
Now, I couldn’t tell if he was serious, and to tell the truth I still can’t, but what I can tell you is that in the end it might not matter. And because of this, during the course of the last few days I found myself thinking about a friend of mine.
Have you ever met a person who, for one reason or another, just makes you feel good about life whenever you are around him/her? I don’t agree with his religious/philosophical leanings, but I cannot help but feel his love for everyone he meets. He just exudes it. I asked him how he came to be. He explained that he lived his life through a very simple equation. At every moment, with every person he meets, he attempts to make that person’s life better in some way for his being there. He lives his life as if it were a continuous stream of teachable moments, and he doesn’t intend on letting any one moment go.
On the other side of the equation, I think of Jesse…
He might not have made us feel good, but I’m not sure if it really matters what his intent was, because what might matter more than the homeschooler and/or school teachers’ reactions that ensued from his post could be that he too taught us all a valuable lesson- the importance of the teachable moment. By some happy accident, he managed to gather together home schooled children, home schooling parents, public and private school teachers, and interested community members and create a dialogue about the practice of home schooling. Yes, it can be argued that he put us homeschoolers on the defensive. Yes, it can be argued that his tone created the sharp responses “he deserved.” But, do the topics deserve the tone from both sides? This is too much of an opportunity to care who “started it?”
In the end, we all eventually cared. And caring is something important that both sides need to continue to do, for both our sakes and the sake of our children.
We also taught each other something else important- that we must continue to care and begin to see what we do from a fresh perspective. We cannot just look at ourselves as know-it-alls. As soon as we begin to do this, we fail to grow and progress as teachers. Essentially, we too must continue to learn about our practices, our beliefs, and also our credibility.
We cannot play Jesse, and doubt everything, and we cannot play ourselves, and believe in everything we do- lest we fall into the dangerous abyss of apathy.
I know I’ve learned. I’ve learned to not be so close-minded about communication models and methods I’m ignorant of. I’ve learned that in order to become a better homeschooler I have to ask myself how effective my practices are. I’ve learned that there are more similiarities between what I do in my classroom and what I do as the homeschooler of my children. And, I’ve learned that passion is a good thing so long as it is followed by proper reflection and honesty. But, most of all, I’ve learned that we, both homeschoolers and school teachers alike, are always in the midst of endless teachable moments, whether in a classroom or in our homes.




17 Comments
June 5, 2009 at 12:05 pm
Mark, beautifully stated. I think we all saw, first hand, the power of the blog-o-sphere. What an amazing teaching tool – for ourselves, our kids, and our public school counterparts. A lovely, teaching moment.
June 5, 2009 at 1:19 pm
Agreed. The true power of social media – whether on blogs, Facebook, Twitter, or elsewhere – is the ability to change our world through collaboration. As we’ve seen, even incendiary, potentially divisive, exchanges can bring about a beneficial product.
June 5, 2009 at 2:00 pm
In this commentary the question was posed about whether, with all the author’s qualifications, can homeschool teachers instruct as “well as me”. Apparently, we can because the correct grammar phrase is “as well as I” not “as well as me’. “Nuff said”.
June 12, 2009 at 2:53 am
Unfortunately, I don’t really think we can make fun of Mr. Scaccia on this one, because Mark Silvia had quite a few errors as well. While I appreciate his article, mistakes such as this were frustrating:
“Then I read his post, it’s hundreds of reactionary comments (of which I participated), and its worth became more gray to me.”
June 12, 2009 at 2:11 pm
Well put. It’s interesting that we tend to use proper grammar as a means of attacking a speaker when what we should be doing is discussing the message. I wonder, why were they frustrating? Have you never made a grammatical mistake?
It’s also interesting that we sometimes forget the genre we’re working in (blog writing as a mode of communication rarely values proper grammatical structure). If i was writing a research paper that I submitted for publication i might care a bit more about whether or not I capitalized my “I” and used proper possessive punctuation. But, I’m not, and I guess I have proven, like Jesse, that it does become easy to attack the messenger in replace of the message.
I noticed Ivy you failed to truly respond to the message itself- was it because it doesn’t grab your attention because I didn’t offend, or was it because I was fundamentally correct in my assessment that we shouldn’t attack the people. Instead, we should just debate the message. (How’s that for irony?)
June 22, 2009 at 12:07 pm
msilvia writes: It’s also interesting that we sometimes forget the genre we’re working in (blog writing as a mode of communication rarely values proper grammatical structure)
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
I beg to disagree. If this is the forum we are communicating in, I see no reason why we cannot apply proper grammatical structure. I, for one, value it highly!
We also tend to think of email as less formal but where do you draw the line? When perfectly grown adults use i instead of I, leave out all traces of commas and periods, and position their missive in one large paragraph block, I’m tempted to tell them, I can’t read this. I’m not going to bother.
I reassure my friends: I’m not going to catch every spelling and mechanical error and send it back marked up in red. I’m not even an English teacher, just a person who by trade is a journalist and whose passion is reading and writing. I also homeschooled my daughter, then an 8th grader, for one year. I’m not perfect, I make mistakes too.
But net-speak, i for I and u for you and rele for really. Really! I can only stomach so much, me, the “Eats, Shoots, and Leaves” fanatic.
And if you catch a mistake here and call me on it, happy grammaring! It’s not a Ph.D. thesis, just a blog comment.
June 23, 2009 at 10:26 pm
I wonder if you could define for us what “proper grammatical structure” is? As a journalist I guess you know? The line cuts both ways…
June 16, 2009 at 3:27 pm
There’s an important difference. Mr. Scaccia made his error in a paragraph claiming him to be superior and better able to educate kids in English. Not only is this extremely ironic, it makes it impossible to forgive the mistake. Yes, a blog is informal and so shouldn’t be subject to scrutiny by grammar nazis, but Mr. Scaccia’s mistake is still glaring and worthy of ridicule.
June 17, 2009 at 11:06 pm
“impossible to forgive…” Really? Seems that your implicit claim is that it’s not OK for Jesse to be closeminded and the judge and jury, but it is OK for you to be an egoist and be the one who can supply such necessary ridicule.
June 22, 2009 at 12:09 pm
I kinda liked William’s take here. It was refreshing and in-your-face.
No, I’m not advocating blog rudeness but every now and then, I like a sharp rebuke!
June 23, 2009 at 10:30 pm
Sure, if your goal is to get an emotional response (a practice I’m sure you’re familiar with as a journalist). But, is that the goal here? Emotional response burns out, and it becomes just like the daily paper, just another “yesterday’s story.” I hope you don’t advocate that for this topic…
June 5, 2009 at 3:56 pm
Thanks for the thoughtful post. What a great way to bring people together who care for and about kids. Think of how much more is accomplished when we find a common ground.
June 5, 2009 at 4:56 pm
Good thoughts, and in Jesse’s defense he wrote me a very gracious email after I blogged about his post. He said my post was “fun and aggressive” and that he “needed to be called out on a few things.” He even asked if he could post my response on his blog. But you bring up a great point about time and teachable moments. But another important point to remember is not to allow others thoughts to cause us to get mad, especially when we read something on the internet. Not giving others control over our emotions is the key too good communication. One of my cardinal rules is to never write when I’m overly emotional (either happy, mad, or sad). Effective communication depends on clarity and I’ve found that when I’m emotional I’m not very clear or convincing.
June 5, 2009 at 5:00 pm
[...] follow-up posts of clarification, Jimmy Carter-level mediation, a Trojan Horse offer (jokes), and a silver-lining-to-this-nonsense essay by a homeschooler. Please read, but take it with a grain of salt. TeacherRevised supports the right [...]
June 5, 2009 at 5:21 pm
I’m here only because I’m so amused, to be honest.
There’s only a “silver lining” if Jesse can start following the arguments and can begin formulating a coherent opinion of his own. I’m not really seeing any progress in that direction at the moment.
For me, he’s the poster child of how public schools are failing our kids. Jesse is reasonably intelligent, and yet his years of school have left him with no more than a mishmash of party-line liberal urges, inarticulately expressed and utterly unsupported by a framework of reason.
We can’t teach people how to think because they might disagree with us….
I’m still waiting for a spark of comprehension from Jesse to see if he can rescue himself from this mess.
I have to say that only two of my English teachers were this bad in high school. My two others were just fine–one, in fact, was quite good. As the good ones retire, though, the younger generation of teachers are less and less likely to be good. The results of institutional education aren’t always this bad, but Jesse is quite the warning.
June 7, 2009 at 11:49 am
“In the end, we all eventually cared.”
We have always cared. It is strange for Jesse or anyone else to suggest otherwise.
If he cares now, there are many resources he can explore, online and off, and expand his understanding of hsing. Without having to stir the pot.
Hoping that is the lesson learned in this “teachable moment” –
Nance
June 7, 2009 at 8:07 pm
Well, actually I was thinking that the teachable moment was in the approach we all take in addressing each other and the topic- the topic itself is too important to treat as if we are all-knowing. And, this lesson can be learned by both of us (you and I) as well. Specifically in how defensive we’ve gotten in our own responses to the subject and these posts (this post included).