Did you read this entry?  Spunky blogged about how the game of "tag" is being banished from the schoolyards.......her whole post is (as usual) right on and gives lots of food for thought.  It made me think about my own school experiences....long, long ago............

Those were the days, my friends.

The playground was mostly just dirt and gravel and the huge stuccoed building towered over the few structures.  There was the monkey bars where I could hang upside down from the apex.  My psychedelic paisley mini-dress fell over my face while I held it up with one hand in attempted modesty.  Precarously I  held onto the top "X" with my knees over the top and my ankles crossed. The other hand was holding on to the top bar....my safeguard....hopefully.  I never did fall....but I can still recall that feeling of being a thrill-seeker at that young age.  My mom would have killed me had she known I did that!

The monkey bars were also the greatest fort!  You could "trap" other kids there in the monkey bar prison, and chase them around and around the outside while you scooted around the smooth bars with your feet and hands moving quickly---around and around all the while squealing with delight!  We looked forward to the playground and when that bell rang, oh, to be able to rush out of the classroom, down the stairs and through the big cold grey doors with a Bang! Then we were out into the sunshine.  Dozens of kids, laughing and racing to and fro---from the swings to the teeter-totters, the tether ball poles and then the monkey bars.  Those were the days.

The building made a C shape across the back, a square "C" but that made for a wind break and a place to hide and play other games.  Jump rope was one of the favorites.  We had a long white rope with black tape on the ends, so it wouldn't ravel.  I can hear those chants...."Not last night, but the night before...twenty-four robbers came knocking at my door...."  and "Cinderella dressed in yella, went upstairs to kiss a fella...." 

When we weren't jumping rope or playing hopscotch, we were playing....."Boys Chase the Girls."   Or, "Girls Chase the Boys."  We would shriek and run from them, of course secretly hoping to be caught by the one certain boy we really liked.  We were between 6 and 9 years old then.  Once in a while the boys would get too rough and a girl would get mad about it, and tell the teacher.  We thought it was all in fun......and it was, for the most part.  But even those innocent days had their casualties.  Even then, little kids were getting hurt on the playground.  But at least if an errant young beau snuck a peck on the cheek, he wasn't arrested for sexual harrassment......And I had plenty of skinned knees and elbows from my countless hours of recess. And you know what?  My parents never sued anyone over those.

But we got hurt no matter where we were.  Life hurts sometimes, and even at home we had our share of scrapes and skinned knees.  But did our parents tell us to stop playing?  Play is so natural.  Play is the work of children. An occasional peck on the cheek is sweet, childish, but natural. What is a kid without a scab or two.  (sorry!)

The memories of the indoor times at the big stucco building are few and far between. Mostly me doing something inappropriate and being sent out into the hall for it, like talking or not sitting still.  If they would have had Ritalin when I was little, I'd have been on it.  For the teachers sake.  I wasn't ready for the classroom trauma. The playground was at the forefront of my mind.  Sure, I remember ALL of my teachers.  Some good, some not so good.  I remember the sound of footsteps in the big hall.....massive, echoing hall. "Nancy, why are you in the hall?"  the Principal would ask me.  "Well, Tommy scared me, so I screamed. The teacher told me to go stand in the hall," I would reply.  So then he would tell me, "go back to class and don't scream anymore."  The next day I would be bck out there for talking, or running, or playing, or.......whatever.  I spent a lot of time in that hall.

 I remember walking to and from school, and although it was only a short distance from home, I remember at about 8 years old a lady stopped and asked me if I needed a ride home.....said she was a friend of my moms.  I never saw her before......or after that.  Of course I said "no."  I was only a half a block from home, or less.  Back then you trusted people, but I still knew it was fishy. Once my cat, Rusty, followed me to school after lunch.  My 3rd grade teacher let me take him back  home.  On the way back, I raced down the trail on "Miller's Hill" as fast as my little legs could carry me.  I literally flew down and over the dips.  When I got back to class, out of breath, everyone had been watching me from the west windows.  They were just sure I was going to fall, they said, because they couldn't believe how fast I was running down the hill.  I loved that crazy hill.

Lots of memories.  A few months back, I sat down and wrote them all down....as many as I could.  From kindergarten on up.....then I went back to read it.  I was going to post it but "poof."  It was gone.  Lost in cyberspace.  Most of them are not "fond" memories, but they are mine nonetheless.  Most of them are not earth shattering discoveries either.  The twaddle I was force-fed was useless, and so I made up for the lack of substance, with an abundance of naughtiness.  I guess I had to do something while doing the time.

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Last night my family went out for burgers.  Not fast food burgers, RedTop Giant Hamburgers.  They are so good!  While we were there we got into a silly mood and it all started when someone blew their straw wrapper off......and my husband and I started telling the kids all about the things we learned in school that they are missing out on.  We gave them a crash course in  how to make and blow spit wads.  (They were incredulous!)  Then I gave them a lesson in wadding up the wet paper towels and throwing upwards has hard as you can, so they stick on the ceiling.*  Or not.  Some unsupecting person might get 'beaned' by one on its way back down.  A lesson on gravity.  (We are homeschoolers, ya know.) *We just told them how, it was not a demonstration.  LOL

Then we taught them how you can also fling your freshly sharpened #2 pencil up into the acoustic tiles.....that is fun.  Have you ever looked up in a classroom and wondered how all those pencils got up there?  Well, we did that.  Back in 1972.  Seventh grade classroom had quite a montage up there.  Probably would still be there if the school hadn't been burned down in 1981 or so.  Another masterpiece lost.

And these are the experiences and lessons that my kids were about to miss out on while being taught at home.  But we fixed that.  They should graduate fine now, with honors.

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On to other areas of lost learning......I have heard that many schools are taking music out of the curriculum.  At least in my state.  They have to get rid of it in order to spend more time on "the test."  They have to study for this test so they can get more $$$.  So no music class.  No recess. Only studying for this test. We need more money. 

 I learned some really catchy  songs when I was in school.  One went like this:  Glory Glory Hallelujah, Teacher hit me with a ruuulahr......"  Funny, isn't there another song like that?....similar words......something about "His Truth is Marching On".....nah.  Must be my imagination.  Boy, those were the good old days....

In my 4th grade year, the teacher had us go outside and make a bug collection---we made our own nets, learned how to catch and made kill jars with fingernail polish remover.  We made pinning contraptions and boxes with parafin to mount our specimens....It was tops.  It was hands on, out doors.....it was real learning.   One time out of 12 years......how many days would that be?  12 years is a whole lot of time to waste with a child.  It was torture, being stuck in a room with 20 or 30 some other kids being talked to about stuff that we didn't even care about.  Lectures. Getting information from a lecture must not be my learning style.

And then there were film strips.  Antiquated film strips.  I don't know how many times we sat on the little ovals in the wood floor (from where they un-bolted the really old desks, you know, the one's with the ink wells) and watched film strips.  Sometimes, the film stopped rolling and the frame in front of the lightbulb began to burn up because of the heat......have you ever seen that happen?!  You would be watching the deer romping through the woods, listening to the halting, grating recording about "Autumn in the Woods" or something, then the film sould start burning and it looked like the whole forest was on fire.  Probably some greenie movie too.  Then the teacher would spend the next 15 minutes trying to re-thread the film through the projector while we sat on our little ovals. Borrrrringggggg.   Then at the end, you got to watch it all in reverese as they rewound the strip. Now THAT was fun. Boy those were the days, eh?

Some things have changed, but some stay the same.  Kids don't need to be sequestered with strangers (adults and children alike) for hours on end, experiencing nonsense.  They need their mommies.  They need to be a part of a family.  A real one, not an artificial (unreasonable) facsimile.  They need to play, in a safe place, with supervision, or even better, participation from their parents.  Learning is fun!  Life is our playground.

The kid stuff isn't even the same anymore.  It's not "Girls Chase the Boys" anymore, even though that wasn't such a great game.....the stakes are higher because of what the kids bring to the playground.  Media exposure, advertising and pop-culture have changed little kids into miniature heathen......don't tell me no.  There is not a lot of innocence left in kids anywhere today. 

Kids lose their childhood in the school.  They lose their joy in learning.  I know, I know, not everyone does.  There are a few survivors.  I wish I had been homeschooled. The antics described above were the result of un-disciplined, restless, frustrated, dying to do something, ANYTHING, kids.  Too bad it was channeled into mischeif.  I still wish I had been homeschooled......

Oops!  I forgot, that is what we are doing!  Home-educating my kids and myself at the same time. My kids might not have those kinds of gravel playground-monkeybars-boys-chase-the-girls memories, but I bet they won't mind at all.  We are too busy making Mom-and-Dad-acting-goofy-over-giant-hamburgers kinds of memories. 

And I know they won't forget those!

Homeschooling is Life!

Nancy

Be sure to stop over at the front porch on Thursdays to read my unschooling column!

©Nancy K. Baetz

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