Scary

Here is the slightly scary thing about my little project: clueless as I am, half-assed as the initial efforts have been, it is working—working in a way that is upsetting for me and may end up being for you too. 

So prepare yourself for the disconcerting aspect to your supplemental efforts succeeding.

Let’s back up for a minute first. 

For those new to these missives, or who have been unclear about what I am up to here (it’s not you, it’s me—I struggle with clarity), my project has to do with a recent epiphany that is at heart: the education my children are receiving is deeply flawed and I should do something about it.

I will skip over the opportunity to rage about inadequacies of today’s creaky, deeply antiquated educational industrial complex, despite the very strong urge to go on a really satisfying harangue.

As to the effort to do something about it, my initial theory is that I should be able to supplement the basics of what the kids are learning at their public city school in way that offsets the gaps and ideally transforms their experience into something approaching world class.

That is the theory. At present, I really am just trying to get started. I have very inconsistently made some random efforts to start promoting some summertime learning efforts with the kids, prior to school starting up, a number of which I have written about in previous posts.

What is so surprising is the degree to which my janky efforts are achieving success beyond what I anticipated. In short: this stuff works.

As an example, after coming up with the plan of getting my kids reading the more relatable, fun articles from lop journalism outlets, I saw that my daughter has taped the New Yorker article that we read together on the science of yawning up on the door to her room, along with a note that read, “everyone should read this.”

I was stunned. The possibly hairbrained parental move made in desperation in the wake of waking up to the state of the kids’s learning was a crazed success. To whit: guess how many articles encountered in elementary school primers triggered this kind of response? 

Similar results with learning Spanish. I have on multiple occasions come upon her during some unsupervised downtime, seen that she is on her phone and assumed that she is playing some lame game only to see that she is working with Duolingo, unbidden. 

A last example. I spent some time creating a new profile on our Netflix account called Learning, and filled the watchlist with great looking documentaries and other learning shows, after which we watched a couple together to get rolling (Hold Your Breath and Fantastic Fungi).

Since that small effort, she has taken been choosing these shows on her own during her allotted screen time sessions, most recently becoming obsessed with the behind the scenes videos for some of the David Attenborough nature shows.

All amazing. And I am not sharing just for the pleasure of the backdoor bragging. In fact, thrilled as I am by the early validation for my crackpot theories, (or, to use business vernacular, the achievement of product-market fit), I feel a bit sick about it all.

I am sick about it because what is being revealed beyond what I even suspected is that  my bright young 11-year-old has very likely been starving for a greater level of mental stimulus and challenge for a very long time. 

So, while I can feel positive about finally getting involved, the more dominant emotion at the moment is to want to give myself a good thrashing for not getting involved earlier. Because the reality is that I have been pointing fingers for years when I could have been acting.

I have no idea how universal this experience might be. My son, meanwhile, has been busier this summer and is in a different place, so we haven’t yet had quite the same experience. And, as always, YMMV—your mileage may vary.

That said, my sense at the moment is that this may be the most important message to share with other parents looking to supplement and enhance the education of their children--it is possible that they are desperate for something better.

Your first urge, like mine, might be to give yourself a good thrashing for not getting more involved sooner, though that time is likely better spent queuing up additional enrichment.