Making Time

April 24, 2015 raphaela992 Comments

Sometimes, it feels like there is no time. Racing from one appointment and activity to the next. Friends come into your mind, and you determine to get in touch. The day ends, and by the time you remember (usually late at night), it is too late. I hadn’t seen a group of friends for well over a year. I used to go to a meditation on an old train carriage, placed in a friend’s garden. The foliage around it was moist, and frogs would hop onto you as you slid open the door. You would be treated to ambient music and twinkling lights as you arranged yourself in a chair. We would laugh together and tell stories. They cheered for me when I was going through IVF, and celebrated when I fell pregnant. When my daughter arrived, they cooed over her.

It was time for a reunion. It was overdue. We met at a glorious place on the way to the Southern Highlands, hugging and chatting as though we had never been apart. Over a lazy Sunday brunch, eight women caught up, and then went to a yurt, owned by one of the ladies. There we sang, and laughed some more. We determined that there weren’t to be any more long intervals between catch-ups in future.

I have another group of friends who were my rock through the early days of endometriosis and infertility. We are all scattered about the city, and we remark often that it is best for society that we aren’t able to see each other frequently. We are noisy, cheeky and quite hilarious when together. Anything can happen, and usually does.

I love them more than all the stars in the sky, so impressed am I with their irreverence and spunk. We went to a high-end jewellery store to inquire about the cleaning of a necklace, and were treated with a look of distaste. One of the ladies below became impertinent, which provoked more giggles. These are the sort of people who encourage an environment where you don’t have to watch what you say. In fact, the ruder your train of thought, the better. Light relief in a world so heavy and grey.

They haven’t had it easy, but then again, no true heroine ever has. It has propelled them to be funnier, try harder, have more empathy than your average woman.
I broke three umbrella’s in the storms that deluged Sydney earlier this week. My daughter started Term 2 of home schooling, and it was back to our hectic schedule.

So far, we have made a volcano erupt, worked with clay, attended workshops and kids meditation and she has completed several online lessons. Trying to find balance is ever-challenging. I am working on it, and if I hit upon the secret to organization, I will let you know! One thing I do get, is that maintaining a social life is a necessity. Organizing catch-ups isn’t in spite of the hectic schedules we all have, rather it is so we can keep enduring them.

Summer didn’t want to let go.

March 2, 2015March 2, 2015 raphaela994 Comments

After a particular mum (not mentioning any names), mistook boy guinea pigs for girls, two ladies became mums! My daughter is an adoring aunt, whereas I am apparently a grandma! Nine little ones in all.

Homeschooling is amazing! Munchkin is progressing extremely well, and has a passion for learning that is an honour to witness.

We went to the library the other day, and she read a chapter of her book all by herself. She was excited, and I was overjoyed. This particular book is from her I Can Read program, and has codes at the top of each sentence, so she can easily decipher the words. Afterward, we went past a factory seconds store, and found a beautiful guitar. It is the right length for a child, and in her favourite colour! It was cheap, and the fellow said he could re-string it for my left-hander. I felt privileged to witness her excitement. She is learning guitar, and has often said that she didn’t mind not having her own. She rarely asks for anything, so this guitar shall be valued.

Saturday night, went to The Sound of Music Sing-A-Long at the State Theatre in Sydney. It was particularly special as it is the 50th anniversary of the movie this year, and I got to dress up as a nun! We happened to bump into a teacher from my daughter’s former school. This lady has inspired my child in so many ways, instilling a belief in herself and to think outside the box. For that, I shall love her forever. We became friends on the playground, and I am sure Mrs Z shall always be in our lives. You never forget the teacher that goes above and beyond. I find it quite moving, especially as Lizzie was never in her class.

Sunday, I went to Catalina for a friend’s birthday. This lady doesn’t usually celebrate her birthday, so this was special. It was a lesson to me that you are worth celebrating, and that life is far too precious and short not to gather friends. It was the first day of Autumn in Sydney, but the sun beat down mercilessly, pushing the temp up to the high 30’s. Summer stubbornly refused to release its grip. My daughter found these gorgeous floral displays abandoned around the side of the restaurant, and after gathering a few blooms for herself, we delighted in watching parents pick their children a flower or two.

As we left the city, the storm clouds gathered, and a torrent of raindrops thumped to the ground. The last grand summer storm before autumn colours the landscape in crimson and rusty hues. There are challenges, for myself and my loved ones, but when isn’t there? All we can do is stick together, embrace and love, and eat good food and ride it out. Winter is coming, but then, so is spring.

Education and Dyslexia

February 20, 2015 raphaela992 Comments

I asked on a home schooling dyslexic forum what they wanted educators to know about their children’s struggles. The response was overwhelming.
One parent talked of the lack of understanding that a dyslexic’s brain is wired differently and that it’s a good thing! It gives them great advantages to be able to think outside the box, but the trade-off is that language is harder to grasp. There is great concern regarding the ability of school’s to correctly diagnose dyslexia. One mum asked every year from kindy to Grade 4 whether her child might have dyslexia. The answer was always “no,” and he was never tested. Private testing confirmed he was. He has now been home schooled for five years and has no belief in himself, and sadly has a massive resistance to learning. He was one of six children in his year who weren’t diagnosed at school.

Another mum said that her child started having anxiety and low confidence. She is now home schooling and has happily discovered that there is a lot less stress. Her seven-year old son has many strengths, but at school he was constantly told what he couldn’t do. One lady mentioned that her mother fought the fight with dyslexia 50 years ago. Her husband’s aunt, 45 years ago, and her MIL 40 years prior. This lady suffered throughout school 20 years ago. “Its getting worse instead of better…and still they do nothing.” One mum stated that there are “accusations of laziness and lack of effort of child. Very little actual positive help. Little understanding of dyslexia and the anxiety it produces. I am now home schooling due to dyslexia and anxiety-anxiety greatly worsened by a system unwilling to understand or help, just blame.”

Another lady said, “isn’t it fascinating how curious they are? My kids are all clever in their own ways, but it is my dyslexic girl who is the most curious…Always asking why? How? What?Where? That’s why home schooling is working for her…She is always exploring and searching for information on any number of topics. ” One mum said, “I had my son’s teacher tell me that I never read books to him.”

Tara said, “Schools should know that more time without explicit MSL instruction or doing still more of what doesn’t work will not get a different result. It will create learned helplessness. That all their collective experiences don’t add to squat in relation to my child if they haven’t ever researched and successfully transitioned a dyslexic child from non-reader to reader. A child is always doing the best that they can and if they are not fully participating, that is a flag that there is support needed.”

This from a student teacher, “This is my fourth year of a B.Ed Primary. I struggled at school, but always wanted to be a teacher. I found that I learned better at TAFE than at Uni. Why? Because it is hands on. First year of Uni, I discovered that I have mild dyslexia and dysgraphia. Finally I knew why I had struggled. However, I feel Uni and especially schools (as I do pracs each year), do not comprehend what dyslexia is and how a dyslexic person learns!”
I loved this encouraging post from Homeschooling Downunder

I will end with one of my heroines, Jackie French

Homeschooling and Dyslexia

February 17, 2015 raphaela994 Comments

The day the resources arrived. The little girl was so excited!

The mother would never forget the moment she realized our education system had few resources for dyslexic kids. She was talking to the teacher, her daughter outside, swinging her little legs to and fro. “Did I do okay Mummy? Are you proud of me?” Her mother smiled and replied that she was very proud of her, and that she had done very well. She could see the big picture, as parents are privy to. She could see her daughter being broken and scarred by the labels already stuck onto her skin, like a crude tattoo. If a child with dyslexia isn’t given adequate assistance by the time they reach adolescence, their view of themselves can be tragically aligned to their ability to learn within a system that won’t cater to them.

The mother enlisted the private tutor, and along the way, found another remarkable mentor. Elizabeth was an art teacher within the education department for a very long time. She resigned, and went into private practice, using a variety of modalities. She asked the mother to observe where the daughter’s eyes travelled when asked a question. “To the left,” her mother replied. Elizabeth explained that the little girl began to process information from the upper left of her eyes. “Does she have difficulty copying notes off the board, and does she have messy handwriting?” “Yes,” the mother replied. “She is having trouble coordinating what her eyes are seeing with her body movements. Reading off a board or piece of paper in front of her is bound to fail.” She put a coloured piece of paper-a complex word written on it- to the left of the child’s vision, and the child sighted it. Elizabeth then turned it over and asked the child to say the word. Not only could she say it, but she spelt it backwards and forwards! How can you adequately thank people who are giving a child the gift of self-esteem, dignity and a passion for learning? Elizabeth gave the mother exercises to do with the child at home. Even crawling around the floor would help.

The mother knew what she had to do. She studied the curriculum and designated outcomes for her daughter’s year, and developed a lesson plan, using resources and tutors she had uncovered. A home schooling mum she was blessed to befriend helped her. The education department came out and interviewed both her and her daughter, and she was given the go-ahead. Her registration came through toward the end of last year, and then it became real. She was terrified. Frightened of failing her daughter, of the enormity of the task ahead. She had to do it. Local schools weren’t equipped to accommodate dyslexic students. The competition started early, being judged by their class on their ability to write out their own speeches, then recite them publicly. After a month of home-schooling, her mother can already see the benefits. The child speaks with ease amongst adults and children alike. Her self-esteem has been lifted, and she is eager to learn. She often gets to her workbooks before her mother in the mornings. When she is stuck on a sentence, her mother is right there, to read it out. Able to learn on her terms, and in her own time. She has a full social life, to the extent that a day at home with just her mother is factored in. Rather than witnessing the reducing of a child, her mother is watching her grow.