LLindsey

(oops.. this got long before i noticed.. be glad i't writing. talking-- i really get out of control)

sandra, what a great article! i love it!! i gotta keep it and include it in my "packets" i shall prepare for my older son's teachers .. as long as he wants to go to high school, i must "prepare" his teachers.. lol... (i must confess, i have learned to find great pleasure in telling them how to deal with my child.. and even a harsh word or two (or more) to a former-bully-presently-bullheaded jr hi principal gave me a bit of a rush.. .. i just wish i'd insisted he just SKIP jr hi.. or the rest of school.. but he wants to try high school.. he's the kid that fails classes (the honors ones we insist they put him in) but totally aces standardized tests and complains because he must correct his teachers on their facts so often. (okay okay.. i want to brag on him, i admit it.. the kid's brilliant.. and learned NONE of it at school..)

and julie and susan. one thing that i think is very important is to have faith in ourselves and our kids. it is amazing what kids learn when left on their own.. even when we aer in the other room working.... and remember, if we are feeling guilty, or like we are doing a bad job those negative thoughts will translate themselves to our children. we want them to have confidence and faith in themsleves as well.. so read articles like this one and remind yourself that you are doing the best for your child.. at least they are not in the state subsidized 'obedience training' called public school. i know i work so hard not to just yell GO AWAY.. to my kids when i'm trying to concentrate and work, and they want to show me how they can jump on a big beach ball... but i forgive myself for my slips and go on.. i might even apoligise later and explain about real life meaning mom's gotta get things done... (it' s not like they don't tell me to GO AWAY when they are in the middle of a video game and i want to get all mommyish and mushy)...

i think one of the important lessons in life is to focus on the positive... it will multiply.. and don't beat yourself up.. for one thing you are teaching your kids to do the best they can.. with what they have.. when we think.. oh we're bad parents... i think we are succumbing to the prevailing notion of someone-else-knows-better-than-me-so-i-better-do-what-i'm-told--- --you know.. the great lesson they learn at school.. so i guess we gotta unschool ourselves as well. to trust ourselves and our kids ... i know we will find a way to deal with our work and unschooling.. and our kids will end up better educated than most high school graduates..

and my youngest,8, taught himself to read, add, subtract and a lot of geography .. and amazingly early.. for a kid at home on his own.(when he was in kindergarten.. failing cut and paste at school) . i sure didn't put out the effort to try to teach him at five.. he did it all without even really noticing because he wanted the information on the sports page.. it was funny.. suddenly he was telling me about basketball scores and different players and knew where the teams were from... i just recently let him in on the secret that he was teaching himself geography when he did this.. he was appalled.. as he professes to hate to learn anything.. lololll

Linda L
kindergarten/first grade teachers of both my boys had this thing about cutting and gluing.. and apparently it concerned them that my kids were not good at this at about five and six years of age.. i never really got the importance of being able to cut and paste perfectly at this age.. haha. like GET A LIFE... PLEASE... they can cut and paste later.. if they EVER find a reason to do it.. (altho .. as an artist, myself i find it a quite pleasurable occupation.. hahhaaahah.. )
which reminds me..


----- Original Message -----
From: SandraDodd@...
To: [email protected]
Sent: Wednesday, July 03, 2002 6:20 AM
Subject: [Unschooling-dotcom] reading "late"



In a message dated 7/2/02 10:44:59 PM, MDMomatHm@... writes:

<< I'm not particularly worried. He didn't really talk until he was 2 1/2 and
was potty trained at 4 1/2 ....he like's to think about things a lot.... >>

I was surprised that all my kids read late. Holly's still sounding out
longer words, and she's ten. The boys zip along on anything at 15 and 13,
but they didn't read until eight and nine.

My kids hang out with another family they've known since infancy through La
Leche League, babysitting co-op and homeschooling, and the late reading of
that family is documented in the library (first page) of www.unschooling.com

but here's a less attractive dump of it (OH! And Julie, the youngest, had
her birthday this week, is up to a book a DAY, and Marty bought her four
novels for the birthday):

I CAN BREATHE AGAIN—MY CHILDREN FINALLY LEARNED TO READ
by Carol Rice

Waiting to Exhale was such an inspiring book. In fact, just its title
inspires me the most. Have you ever caught yourself "waiting to exhale"?

I have spent so much of my life holding my breath. Raising my children has
certainly been one of those situations. For me, every decision in parenting
had to be thoroughly researched and then deliberated and discussed. And once
the decision was made, I found myself holding my breath, worrying about how
it would turn out.

One of the most deliberated decisions I made for my kids was the education
decision—whether to homeschool or not, and how to homeschool. It wasn't a
decision made once and then laid to rest, either. It was a decision
deliberated daily for years. How much should I push them, how much should I
let them be, what should I teach them and how and when? I tried many
different approaches from often widely opposing viewpoints. And as I swung
madly about, my kids just seemed to go about their business, unaware of the
conundrums I faced.

When my first child was a baby, a friend was very excited about a method of
teaching your baby to read that was popular at the time. We decided to try
with our babies, envisioning our babies reading very young and growing up
very smart and well educated. Neither of our babies took to the program well,
even though we tried it with them again and again. My son, Chris, refused to
read at two years, then at three years. I gradually tried more traditional
ways of teaching him letters and sounds. Surely he would read by five years
of age. But not Chris. Maybe by the time he was six years old, or by seven?
But Chris refused to be forced or cajoled into reading. By now his friends
were learning to read in school, but Chris still couldn't read. He struggled
to decipher simple words and he hated trying to read because it was so
frustrating.

I was holding my breath the whole time. I was battling tremendous self-doubt.
I must be an awful mother. Some folks advised me to take Chris to
specialists, test his hearing, eyesight, cognitive abilities, look into
reading labs for him. Deep in my soul, those didn't feel right and I never
took Chris to any of those things.

And then the miracle happened. Right about his ninth birthday, reading
clicked in his mind and he just began reading. Within a month he was reading
easily at his grade level. Within a year he had read every book on airplanes
at the public library. The librarian, who thought he was a wonderful and
precocious child because he read so much, gave him a special "adult" library
card, so he could begin checking out adult books about airplanes.

I breathed a sigh of relief. The muscles in my stomach could finally relax. I
could let my shoulders drop and I could unfurrow my brow. One of my kids, at
long last, was reading.

But there were two more kids behind Chris. Renee and Liam, twins, are two
years younger than Chris. Already they were seven years old. I had been
trying to teach them to read alongside of Chris, to learn letter names and
sounds, string the sounds together, hurry up and read! But like Chris, they
refused to read as babies. They refused to read at two years, three years,
even at five, six and seven years of age. There were times when I believed
none of my kids would ever read. And of course it would be all my fault.

For a while I assured myself that Chris was unusual, and that my younger kids
would read early or at least at a "normal" age. And I consoled myself with
the fact that their dad and uncle had both been later readers. But my sister
and I had both taken to reading young. Therefore it must be something on the
troublesome Y gene. Perhaps my sons would learn to read late, like their male
relatives. But my daughter would learn to read at a normal age, like my
sister and me, surely.

But Renee had a mind of her own. Boy, truer words have never been spoken.
People will attest to Renee having a mind of her own. And she would learn to
read when she was darn good and ready. As the years went by, and she didn't
read, I assured myself she would be like Chris after all and learn to read at
her ninth birthday. But her ninth birthday came and went and still she didn't
read. How could anyone learn to read even later than nine years old, I
screamed inside my head. On the outside I smiled patiently.

Within the next year she slowly began reading. It wasn't the amazing
overnight reading leap that Chris had taken. But by her tenth birthday she
was reading quite happily, although a little behind her grade level. By her
eleventh birthday, she was reading quite well at her grade level.

I breathed a half-hearted small sigh of relief. Thank goodness she was
finally reading. But my attention was stolen by her twin brother, Liam. Liam
was a beautiful little child with light blond curly hair and a mischievous
smile. He was as smart as could be, but wouldn't learn to read, no matter how
much he struggled, not at nine years, not at ten years, not at eleven years
of age.

People came out of the woodwork with ideas on what to do. I could have spent
a million dollars on specialists to find out how to teach Liam how to read
and to learn why he wasn't reading yet. But it just didn't feel right, so I
never took him either.

Instead I leaned heavily on the words of John Holt. He said that many kids,
especially boys, when left to their own learning pace, would not read until
eleven to fifteen years of age. This idea was hard for me to believe before
this, but now I embraced it. But even then, I still didn't believe that
anyone who couldn't read by the age of fifteen was of normal intelligence.

I bet Liam would read by age twelve then. He was a smart kid. He would get it
soon. But he wasn't reading at his twelfth birthday. Not at his fourteenth
birthday, not even at his fifteenth birthday. At that point I even gave up on
John Holt's philosophy too.

I tried to let Liam learn at his own pace and not worry (although my stomach
was clenched while I held my breath, hunched my shoulders and furrowed my
brow). I turned my attention to my youngest child, Julie, who was four years
younger Maybe she would learn to read early, I hoped vaguely. But she didn't.
Maybe she would read at six or seven years old and I should be on the lookout
for clues to teach her letters, sounds, something. There were no signs, and
the years went by. Maybe she would be like Chris and miraculously read at age
nine. Age nine came and went. Then surely she would be like her sister, and
gradually pick it up between the ages of nine and ten. Her tenth birthday
came and went and still no reading. She struggled with very simple words. It
was as though there just wasn't a place in her brain that could master the
reading process. Not yet.
Her older sister tried to help her learn to read. Her friends' mothers tried
to teach her to read. All were loving and patient and, sadly, unsuccessful.

Julie's twelfth birthday came. She could read a little, but only with great
difficulty and frustration. Liam's sixteenth birthday came the next month. He
could read a little too, haltingly, and with great effort. What to do? I just
doggedly held on to the belief that they would read someday. I didn't
consider specialists or therapies. I just waited, trying to ignore the
worried voices in my head.

Then something happened. I have no idea what. They both just started reading.
Maybe it was the incentive of online chatting. Maybe it was long boring days
at home. Maybe it was just the right time, and the parts of their brains that
can process the written word had a growth spurt. It doesn't matter.

Liam is sixteen and a half now. Six months ago, he was unsure about taking a
driver's ed class for fear his reading level might cause him to lag far
behind the class, or for fear of the embarrassment it might cause him. And
how could he take notes? Would it be too much?

Today he is reading adult level books out of his father's paperback
collection. He loves war stores based on real battles and other kinds of
adventure books. Julie is devouring Harry Potter and Goosebumps . They are
both reading about a book a week.

At long last all my kids are reading. I can stop holding my breath. I can
breathe deeply and can actually dare to use both my lungs. It has been many
years of waiting to exhale. The wonderful world of books has opened to them.

A book a week! Do you know what that means? They always have their noses in
books! I take a deep breath and as I exhale, I holler, "Liam, Julie, put
those books down! Pay attention to me when I'm talking to you. Stop reading
for five minutes and get in there and help with dinner! Have you done your
chores today or have you just sat there on the couch reading all day long?"
They look at me, annoyed, and come dragging into the kitchen. I look into
their eyes and remember the years of waiting. I breathe a silent prayer of
thanks for my kids and for the patience it took for me to wait until they
read. The excitement of their reading returns to me.
"Hey, so what book are you reading now, honey?"

[This article originally appeared in the Spring 2001 issue of Enchanted
Families, a local publication in Albuquerque, New Mexico. For permission to
reprint or to write to the author: Starseeker11@...]

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[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]

[email protected]

In a message dated 7/2/02 10:44:59 PM, MDMomatHm@... writes:

<< I'm not particularly worried. He didn't really talk until he was 2 1/2 and
was potty trained at 4 1/2 ....he like's to think about things a lot.... >>

I was surprised that all my kids read late. Holly's still sounding out
longer words, and she's ten. The boys zip along on anything at 15 and 13,
but they didn't read until eight and nine.

My kids hang out with another family they've known since infancy through La
Leche League, babysitting co-op and homeschooling, and the late reading of
that family is documented in the library (first page) of www.unschooling.com

but here's a less attractive dump of it (OH! And Julie, the youngest, had
her birthday this week, is up to a book a DAY, and Marty bought her four
novels for the birthday):

I CAN BREATHE AGAIN—MY CHILDREN FINALLY LEARNED TO READ
by Carol Rice

Waiting to Exhale was such an inspiring book. In fact, just its title
inspires me the most. Have you ever caught yourself "waiting to exhale"?

I have spent so much of my life holding my breath. Raising my children has
certainly been one of those situations. For me, every decision in parenting
had to be thoroughly researched and then deliberated and discussed. And once
the decision was made, I found myself holding my breath, worrying about how
it would turn out.

One of the most deliberated decisions I made for my kids was the education
decision—whether to homeschool or not, and how to homeschool. It wasn't a
decision made once and then laid to rest, either. It was a decision
deliberated daily for years. How much should I push them, how much should I
let them be, what should I teach them and how and when? I tried many
different approaches from often widely opposing viewpoints. And as I swung
madly about, my kids just seemed to go about their business, unaware of the
conundrums I faced.

When my first child was a baby, a friend was very excited about a method of
teaching your baby to read that was popular at the time. We decided to try
with our babies, envisioning our babies reading very young and growing up
very smart and well educated. Neither of our babies took to the program well,
even though we tried it with them again and again. My son, Chris, refused to
read at two years, then at three years. I gradually tried more traditional
ways of teaching him letters and sounds. Surely he would read by five years
of age. But not Chris. Maybe by the time he was six years old, or by seven?
But Chris refused to be forced or cajoled into reading. By now his friends
were learning to read in school, but Chris still couldn't read. He struggled
to decipher simple words and he hated trying to read because it was so
frustrating.

I was holding my breath the whole time. I was battling tremendous self-doubt.
I must be an awful mother. Some folks advised me to take Chris to
specialists, test his hearing, eyesight, cognitive abilities, look into
reading labs for him. Deep in my soul, those didn't feel right and I never
took Chris to any of those things.

And then the miracle happened. Right about his ninth birthday, reading
clicked in his mind and he just began reading. Within a month he was reading
easily at his grade level. Within a year he had read every book on airplanes
at the public library. The librarian, who thought he was a wonderful and
precocious child because he read so much, gave him a special "adult" library
card, so he could begin checking out adult books about airplanes.

I breathed a sigh of relief. The muscles in my stomach could finally relax. I
could let my shoulders drop and I could unfurrow my brow. One of my kids, at
long last, was reading.

But there were two more kids behind Chris. Renee and Liam, twins, are two
years younger than Chris. Already they were seven years old. I had been
trying to teach them to read alongside of Chris, to learn letter names and
sounds, string the sounds together, hurry up and read! But like Chris, they
refused to read as babies. They refused to read at two years, three years,
even at five, six and seven years of age. There were times when I believed
none of my kids would ever read. And of course it would be all my fault.

For a while I assured myself that Chris was unusual, and that my younger kids
would read early or at least at a "normal" age. And I consoled myself with
the fact that their dad and uncle had both been later readers. But my sister
and I had both taken to reading young. Therefore it must be something on the
troublesome Y gene. Perhaps my sons would learn to read late, like their male
relatives. But my daughter would learn to read at a normal age, like my
sister and me, surely.

But Renee had a mind of her own. Boy, truer words have never been spoken.
People will attest to Renee having a mind of her own. And she would learn to
read when she was darn good and ready. As the years went by, and she didn't
read, I assured myself she would be like Chris after all and learn to read at
her ninth birthday. But her ninth birthday came and went and still she didn't
read. How could anyone learn to read even later than nine years old, I
screamed inside my head. On the outside I smiled patiently.

Within the next year she slowly began reading. It wasn't the amazing
overnight reading leap that Chris had taken. But by her tenth birthday she
was reading quite happily, although a little behind her grade level. By her
eleventh birthday, she was reading quite well at her grade level.

I breathed a half-hearted small sigh of relief. Thank goodness she was
finally reading. But my attention was stolen by her twin brother, Liam. Liam
was a beautiful little child with light blond curly hair and a mischievous
smile. He was as smart as could be, but wouldn't learn to read, no matter how
much he struggled, not at nine years, not at ten years, not at eleven years
of age.

People came out of the woodwork with ideas on what to do. I could have spent
a million dollars on specialists to find out how to teach Liam how to read
and to learn why he wasn't reading yet. But it just didn't feel right, so I
never took him either.

Instead I leaned heavily on the words of John Holt. He said that many kids,
especially boys, when left to their own learning pace, would not read until
eleven to fifteen years of age. This idea was hard for me to believe before
this, but now I embraced it. But even then, I still didn't believe that
anyone who couldn't read by the age of fifteen was of normal intelligence.

I bet Liam would read by age twelve then. He was a smart kid. He would get it
soon. But he wasn't reading at his twelfth birthday. Not at his fourteenth
birthday, not even at his fifteenth birthday. At that point I even gave up on
John Holt's philosophy too.

I tried to let Liam learn at his own pace and not worry (although my stomach
was clenched while I held my breath, hunched my shoulders and furrowed my
brow). I turned my attention to my youngest child, Julie, who was four years
younger Maybe she would learn to read early, I hoped vaguely. But she didn't.
Maybe she would read at six or seven years old and I should be on the lookout
for clues to teach her letters, sounds, something. There were no signs, and
the years went by. Maybe she would be like Chris and miraculously read at age
nine. Age nine came and went. Then surely she would be like her sister, and
gradually pick it up between the ages of nine and ten. Her tenth birthday
came and went and still no reading. She struggled with very simple words. It
was as though there just wasn't a place in her brain that could master the
reading process. Not yet.
Her older sister tried to help her learn to read. Her friends' mothers tried
to teach her to read. All were loving and patient and, sadly, unsuccessful.

Julie's twelfth birthday came. She could read a little, but only with great
difficulty and frustration. Liam's sixteenth birthday came the next month. He
could read a little too, haltingly, and with great effort. What to do? I just
doggedly held on to the belief that they would read someday. I didn't
consider specialists or therapies. I just waited, trying to ignore the
worried voices in my head.

Then something happened. I have no idea what. They both just started reading.
Maybe it was the incentive of online chatting. Maybe it was long boring days
at home. Maybe it was just the right time, and the parts of their brains that
can process the written word had a growth spurt. It doesn't matter.

Liam is sixteen and a half now. Six months ago, he was unsure about taking a
driver's ed class for fear his reading level might cause him to lag far
behind the class, or for fear of the embarrassment it might cause him. And
how could he take notes? Would it be too much?

Today he is reading adult level books out of his father's paperback
collection. He loves war stores based on real battles and other kinds of
adventure books. Julie is devouring Harry Potter and Goosebumps . They are
both reading about a book a week.

At long last all my kids are reading. I can stop holding my breath. I can
breathe deeply and can actually dare to use both my lungs. It has been many
years of waiting to exhale. The wonderful world of books has opened to them.

A book a week! Do you know what that means? They always have their noses in
books! I take a deep breath and as I exhale, I holler, "Liam, Julie, put
those books down! Pay attention to me when I'm talking to you. Stop reading
for five minutes and get in there and help with dinner! Have you done your
chores today or have you just sat there on the couch reading all day long?"
They look at me, annoyed, and come dragging into the kitchen. I look into
their eyes and remember the years of waiting. I breathe a silent prayer of
thanks for my kids and for the patience it took for me to wait until they
read. The excitement of their reading returns to me.
"Hey, so what book are you reading now, honey?"

[This article originally appeared in the Spring 2001 issue of Enchanted
Families, a local publication in Albuquerque, New Mexico. For permission to
reprint or to write to the author: Starseeker11@...]

[email protected]

Most people seem to equate reading early with intelligence ....so I tell them
that I started to read at 3....so I'm smart enough o know what I'm doing....

Regina


[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]

Sue

>
> << I'm not particularly worried. He didn't really talk until he was 2 1/2
and
> was potty trained at 4 1/2 ....he like's to think about things a lot....
>>
>
> I was surprised that all my kids read late. Holly's still sounding out
> longer words, and she's ten. The boys zip along on anything at 15 and 13,
> but they didn't read until eight and nine.
>
This has been comforting to read but I wonder how strong my faith in my
children will be if they end up being late readers. I hope as strong as
yours Sandra

Sue
>

[email protected]

In a message dated 7/3/02 7:49:18 PM, werapfamily@... writes:

<< This has been comforting to read but I wonder how strong my faith in my
children will be if they end up being late readers. I hope as strong as
yours Sandra >>

If you see them learn to read on their own at ANY age your faith in their
ability to learn will be stronger than if you feel you had to teach them to
read.

If you "teach them" before they're ready you can do more damage than good,
overall. AND if you teach them just as they're ready and they learn easily,
you're likely to believe that they ONLY learned because you "taught" them.
They'll probably feel the same way. And it will seem your obligation and
duty to teach them everything else.

Natural learning can't happen unless you back off and give it a chance.

Sandra

Tia Leschke

>
>This has been comforting to read but I wonder how strong my faith in my
>children will be if they end up being late readers. I hope as strong as
>yours Sandra

Mine faltered when Lars turned 12 and couldn't read. That seemed to be my
personal comfort level. I wish I hadn't pressured him then.
Tia

No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.
Eleanor Roosevelt
*********************************************
Tia Leschke
leschke@...
On Vancouver Island

Leslie Avery

This article really help put me at ease about reading.
My son is 9 and doesn't read nor does he show any
interest. although lately I have noticed he is asking
me to put my finger under the words as I read to him.


I have been a total believer in natural learning for
about 4 years but the reading hurdle was a hard one to
get over until I read this article. I realized why,
because I needed to deschool myself from what I had
heard and learned through my own experiences and
through "peer pressure" (Peer pressure at 46 years
old who would have thought).

Leslie
--- Tia Leschke <leschke@...> wrote:
>
> >
> >This has been comforting to read but I wonder how
> strong my faith in my
> >children will be if they end up being late readers.
> I hope as strong as
> >yours Sandra
>
> Mine faltered when Lars turned 12 and couldn't read.
> That seemed to be my
> personal comfort level. I wish I hadn't pressured
> him then.
> Tia
>
> No one can make you feel inferior without your
> consent.
> Eleanor Roosevelt
> *********************************************
> Tia Leschke
> leschke@...
> On Vancouver Island
>
>
>
>
>
>


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