Author Archive

Getting Started Asking the Right Questions

Wednesday, April 13th, 2016

Recently on a homework assignment for my Natural Science course, I asked students to identify which solar system planets it would be possible to explore from Earth-based telescopes, which from space-born but Earth-orbit telescopes (like the Hubble), and which would require space probes sent to the planet. The results were fairly telling about the approaches students take to open-ended questions. Several students left the question blank, because (as they explained in emails and chat), they “couldn’t find the answer” in the assigned reading. Most students explained in very generic terms that while Venus and Mars (closest to Earth) could be viewed from Earth-based or Earth-orbit satellites, more distant objects would require probes. None addressed the question of Earth-based vs. Earth-orbit telescopes implied by listing the two options, and only one considered planetary characteristics other than distance, and identified Venus as a candidate for a probe because its dense atmosphere blocks any attempt to view its surface from Earth-bound telescopes.

Although I had warned the students repeatedly that some of their homework questions would require them to think through the answer and not simply look it up, at least some of my students felt this was unfair: they couldn’t be held responsible for what they couldn’t not look up and quote from the assigned reading. Most of my students were game to tackle the question even without finding the words “we can use telescopes to look at Mars but need probes for Pluto” in their reading, but they still did not study the question carefully enough to realize they needed to think about the advantages and disadvantages of each option, and consider the individual planet itself, as criteria for determining the best method of observation. They immediately seized on finding a single uniform answer, which would let them complete the assignment quickly, without worrying too much about whether the situation was more complicated.

From the perspective of classical education, this is backward, because classical education, and in particular Christian classical education, is not fundamentally about finding right answers to practical questions. Its goal is to develop the skills required by a free citizen who would be responsible for discerning God’s will, then making decisions for himself and for the state. It recognizes that there is no set formula for “getting the right answer” to the questions of real life; the most important first step is to make sure we can even formulate or recognize the important questions. Then we can look at how these questions (or ones like them) have been answered before, in literature and in history. Although Greek philosophy in particular developed rigorous methods of rational analysis, classical education still depends on story to convey the complexity of real decisions in real circumstances. Greek drama and history constantly throw out examples where individuals must decide between personal integrity, duty to the gods, and duty to the state. Latin literature is full of examples of individuals who sacrifice themselves to fulfill their civic duty. The Greeks and Romans of the classical period studied their own history, read their own literature, and produced often conflicting philosophical reflections because they realized that determining the right questions to ask was a citizen’s responsibility, and it was no use seeking answers until one had the right questions.

St. Clement of Alexandria, in his Stromata calls rational philosophy God’s divine gift to the Greeks, identifying direct revelation as God’s gift to the Jews. The early Christian Fathers, like Clement, who found inspiration in and supported the study of pagan classical literature recognized the development of reason and logic as an important skill in witnessing to and defending the Christian faith — and for distinguishing important questions that were worth pursuing from questions that were merely divisive and distracting. For nearly twenty centuries, western civilization depended on these stories and philosophies to help students form the values that would let them determine the wisest course in a difficult situation, both for themselves and for those they were expected to govern: personal integrity, loyalty, charity, civic duty, duty to God. The questions it forces us to ask are the most important questions of our lives: who am I? what do I want? what is God calling me to do?

If classical Christian education is about questions, then, how do we get students to learn to formulate or recognize the questions they need to ask? And equally important, how do we get them to develop passion for their studies and the courage to overcome the sense that asking questions is somehow an admission of failure to study correctly?

I believe that we need to make asking questions the most important job a student has to do: not completing the homework, not skimming the reading, but thinking deeply about the ideas they encounter and formulating questions about them. Every student (and teacher) needs to come to class full of questions. We meet in discussion to bring up these questions and to hear each other’s questions. As a teacher, I usually have a stock set of questions for a given chat to get the ball rolling, but these are based on my own experience and my own values and they are essentially “plan B” material for the chat. The most successful discussions occur when the students raise questions about their own understanding, based on their own concerns. When they voice those questions and we explore possible answers, we all find new ways of thinking about the material, and new insight on the questions that pester us.

While ultimately we need to address the important questions of our lives, we have to start somewhere, so here are some of the questions even novice students ought to be asking themselves constantly as they read both factual material and literature. Most important, to put this into practice, students should be writing down notes to bring up in class if they are puzzled or don’t have answers, or want to test their own assumptions:

Do I know what all the words mean? Does a term (even if I know its dictionary definition) seem vague or misapplied to the topic? Do all the parts of this graph or illustration make sense and can I see how they are related?

Can I follow all the steps of an example? Do I know what all the assumptions are, and how they are justified? Can I follow the calculation or reasons given for making a conclusion?

Is the author making an argument for a general conclusion or interpretation? Is the author’s claim valid? Do I understand the evidence used to support it? Does it apply to the cases given? Is it too general? too narrow? Can I think of any contradictory examples?

If several things are described, what characteristics, values, or processes are used to distinguish them? Do I understand how these distinctions are made, and can I use these methods myself to make distinctions among similar things?

If a process is described, can I follow the process? If not, why not — where do I get confused? If I do understand the process, do I accept it as valid, or do I think it skips important steps or considerations?

What does the author think are the most important points to make or take away from his or her presentation? What criteria does he or she use to make this evaluation (and do I agree)?  Can I make an outline of the important points and identify the supporting details? Does the author skip points I think are important? Can I figure out why — what values or assumptions am I making differently from those the author is making?

If I am translating a sentence or a paragraph, does my English translation make sense in English? Does it reflect something an intelligent person would say, or is it gibberish? Do I understand what each word means and how it functions in the sentence?

These questions force us to be honest with ourselves in two ways. One is making sure that we actually engage with the materials, not just pass our eyes over the reading, and that we seriously  attempt to comprehend the knowledge presented. The second is making sure that we are also applying our own developing system of values to what we are learning, that we are not simply agreeing blindly to what is presented, but trying to develop ways to determine for ourselves what is right, pure, lovely, admirable, and worthy of praise.

Common Ground: A Lenten Meditation

Thursday, February 25th, 2016

My heart is broken these days as I read the political protestations by the candidates for president. The conversation seems to have descended to the level of a cock fight, with each side crowing over scoring a hit, rather than rising to a thoughtful discussion of the need to supply basic health care services and pay for them responsibly, the need to supply national security without destroying personal security, the need to help those who will responsibly use that help without wasting resources on those who willfully squander them — discussions that, if the proponents weren’t so concerned with winning, might actually provoke the creativity necessary to craft viable solutions. Conversations over religious issues often seems more about scoring points by citing the most proof texts than about seeking guidance from the Holy Spirit to discern how we Christians may help each other fulfill our baptismal vows to love our neighbors — all our neighbors — without violating our consciences.  Even the debate over evolution and creation is often reduced to quips and quotes of various authors that promote neither good science nor good theology, but that do sell books.

What we have forgotten, and what we desperately need to remember, is how to become reconciled, one to the other. It’s a fitting topic for Lent, when Christians reflect on the great price God paid so that we might be reconciled to Him.

Americans seem particularly bad at reconciliation. We are great at competition, but we don’t do forgiveness well. We aspire to reconciliation from time to time — we have the incredible image of the whole of Congress standing together on the steps of the Capitol after 9/11, singing “God Bless America”. Unfortunately that dream of common cause faded all too quickly with squabbles over the nature of the threats and best ways to meet them, and there was no underlying sense of real unity to carry us through the practical realities of the ensuing politics and economics. The sense of disunity has grown over the last decade to real divisions that our leaders — political, religious, and academic — seek to exploit to their own advantage, rather than amend for everyone’s advantage.

I don’t know what the answer is. I can only offer, by way of meditation, three images that continue to haunt me: an archway at Magdelen College in Oxford, a statue and a plaque in a side chapel at the Cathedral in Rouen, and a pair of Westminster Abbey tombs.

We went to England in the summer of 1986. We were grad students with little money, but we had come by a slight windfall, we had some vacation time coming, and we had friends in England we could stay with at least part of our trip. So we packed up our 9-year-old, 3-year-old, and 15-month-old, and went to find the England of J. R. R. Tolkien and C.S. Lewis and Dorothy Sayers, Arthur Ransome, Dick Whittington, Henry II, T.H. White, Isaac Newton, and Edmund Halley.

Lewis’s England lies largely in Oxford, where he taught at Magdelen, so we boarded the train to Oxford and the hallowed groves of academe, where teachers have taught and students have studied and dreamed for a thousand years. Wandering through those grounds that were open to the public, we came upon names carved into the wall of an archway between a great square and a cloistered walk. It was a memorial to the members of the College who had fallen in the Great War of 1914 to 1918.

You find these memorials in every village in England, sometimes on the walls of a municipal building, sometimes on columns in the center of village square, sometimes on plaques flat in the ground of the churchyard, among the gravestones of those who made it home. Lists are long; casualties were high, and some villages lost half of their male population in the trenches. Standing in the shadowed archway at Magdelen, we paused to read through the names, and realized with awe that they were divided into two groups: those who died in the service of George V of England, and those who had died in the service of Wilhelm, Emperor of Germany.

For you see, Oxford colleges have this odd notion that once you become a member of college, you remain a member of college. You can return and read books in the library, be seated at the college dining table, wear the college robes, attend the college colloquia, and when you die, be memorialized on the college walls — even when you die in the service of a political enemy.  Governments rise and fall in the actions of charismatic leaders; industry bends to pragmatic ends; fashions will alter, economies will render the rich poor and the poor rich, but the underlying purpose of academics is to seek the truth, and at Magdelen, that shared journey creates a community that cannot be easily severed, even by war.

Fast-forward twenty-three years to a different trip, and a different country.

There was a decade in the nineteenth century when the Cathedral at Rouen was the tallest building in the world, its steeple rising nearly five hundred feet above the placid waters of the Seine, which meanders through the fields and orchards of Normandy on its way from Paris to the English Channel. Bombed and broken on D-Day, the cathedral nave has been repaired and remains breathtakingly impressive. Beneath the lacy stone and stained glass lie the tombs of Rollo the Northman and a shrine containing the heart of Richard the Lionheart, at the same time both king of England and Duke of Normandy. And, not surprisingly, since just about every church in Normandy has some memorial to Jeanne d’Arc, there is a chapel in the north transept with a modern statue commemorating her martyrdom. She is in chains, her expression calmly resigned, while stone flames lick at her stone gown.

Rouen is the end of Jeanne’s story: here she was held in a fat tower that still stands near the train station, tried by an illegal court, and burned to death in the town square as a witch at the hands of the English, who had determined that her uncanny ability to beat their well-trained armies with smaller forces must lie in a pact with the devil. One might well think the Normans should have little love for the English: Jeanne’s martyrdom marked a turning point in a century of war between France and England that left northern France devastated and economically impoverished for yet another century after hostilities ceased.

So it is with a bit of shock that the Cathedral visitor reads the plaque under the double gothic arches just behind the chapel altar: in French and English, it proclaims “To the Glory of God and to the memory of the one million dead of the British Empire who fell in the Great War 1914-1918, and of whom the greater part rest in France.” In the chapel, in the crimson and sapphire and emerald light from the restored windows above, you suddenly realize that you are in a holy space, one that can abide the fundamental tension of human relationships. The English killed Jeanne, savior of France; the English died in defense of France, and became themselves saviors of France.  The English are — however long ago driven back and exiled to their island, and however badly some of them have behaved — still part of Normandy, and they will still come, if need be, to defend it.

Across the channel, in the center of London, on the banks of the Thames, lies Westminister Abbey. Here the English buried their poets and painters, dreamers and scientists, princes and kings: Geoffrey Chaucer and Lewis Caroll, Isaac Newton and Robert Boyle, Charles and James and Anne Stuart.

In the north aisle of the Lady Chapel are two tombs, one stacked above the other. In the lower one lies Mary Tudor, most Catholic queen of England, who held her sister Elizabeth in house arrest to prevent a civil war, whose courts ordered Hugh Latimer and Nicholas Ridley burned at the stake on Broad Street in Oxford for their defense of a Protestant faith, and who sought all her life to serve God by bringing Him a Catholic kingdom in communion with Rome. In the coffin above her lies that same Elizabeth, most Protestant queen of England, who in her turn held her cousin Mary, Queen of Scots, under house arrest to prevent a civil war, who ordered the executions of Mary and Robert Devereux for political plots, and who sought all her life to serve God by avoiding the religious wars of the Continent and creating a peacable England. When we visited the chapel in 1986, the plaque on the floor read: “Those whom the Reformation divided, the Resurrection will reunite, who died for Christ and conscience’ sake”.  Standing among the royal tombs beneath the stone arches of the chapel, confronted by two sisters at deadly odds with one another, it is with some shock that four hundred years later what remains is the conviction that reconciliation is not merely possible: it is inevitable where there is a fundamental common goal to serve God.

The issues that divide us as Americans and as Christians are real; they are complex, and they challenge us to be the best we can be to address them. As individuals, we have limited resources of time and money and talent and intellect and emotional stamina. We cannot resolve complex problems by isolating ourselves from each other.

One of our visions in founding Scholars Online was to create a community where Christians of different backgrounds could study together, and we welcome anyone, regardless of their religious background, who shares our conviction that education requires not merely mastery of subject matter and the development of close reading and critical thinking skills, but also the formation of character that seeks to deal charitably and honestly with others. We do not require a statement of faith from our students. Our faculty comes from diverse traditions, and we all view our call to teach as a ministry. We — students, teachers, parents — do not always agree on issues, but we hold ourselves together in community, not only to serve the cause of classical Christian education, but also to serve as a model of community built out of diversity.

We start by standing together on the common ground of God’s eternal love for each of us and all of us.

[Part of this meditation appeared a 2009 entry to the All Saints Episcopal Church (Bellevue) blog.]

A Fine Thing

Tuesday, February 9th, 2016

Nearly two years ago, disquieting rumors hit my work group: our jobs were moving out of the area, across the country.

I did not want to move out of my home, away from my friends and family, or face restarting our home business in another state, especially since I would just be trading one earthquake zone for another one, but one with worse winters, more flooding, and tornadoes. So I let my bosses know that I wouldn’t be following my work assignment backwards along the Oregon Trail, and starting thinking about what I wanted to do with the rest of my life.

As usually when requiring clarity of thought, I turned to Dorothy Sayers, who recounts in one of her addresses how she came to learn Latin:

“I was rising seven when [my father] appeared one morning in the nursery, holding in his hand a shabby black book, which had already seen some service, and addressed to me the following memorable words: “I think, my dear, that you are now old enough to begin to learn Latin.” … I was by no means unwilling, because it seemed to me that it would be a very fine thing to learn Latin, and would place me in a position of superiority to my mother, my aunt, and my nurse-though not to my paternal grandmother, who was an old lady of parts, and had at least a nodding acquaintance with the language.”

I already know a little Latin, but I do not know classical Greek. My husband does, and my children do, so far from being in a position of superiority to my own children, I am somewhat at a disadvantage when they talk about finer points of Homer’s style, or the interpretation of a passage from Luke. It seemed to me that it would be a very fine thing to learn Greek, and would place me on something of a more level position with my husband and my children, at least, so far as classical languages are concerned.

Besides, there are some Byzantine commentaries by John Philoponus and John of Damascus on Aristotle’s de Caelo that I ran across when researching my dissertation on medieval astronomy forty years ago, and I have never been able to read them, since the only available printed editions are in Greek and 19th century philosophical German. Of the two, Greek seemed easier to master.

I happened to mention my sort of vague yearning to start classical Greek to a few friends and some family members. This may have been a mistake, but it’s too late now. Scholars Online posted its Greek I course for 2016-2017, and I enrolled, thus putting an end to well-meant but incessant encouragement that I actually indulge myself in the joys of ancient Greek. Mr. Dean kindly agreed to accept me into his course.

It’s been interesting, to say the least.

Latin has seven noun cases, forms of nouns that indicate how they will be used in a sentence as subject, direct object, indirect object, and so on (nominative, genitive, dative, accusative, ablative, locative, and vocative). Greek has five, lacking the ablative and locative, whose functions still exist but are rolled into one or another of the other cases. Plowing through the explanations in Unit I, I thought, this I can do: Greek is simpler is simpler than Latin!

So for the first unit, I put my time into learning paradigms for three nouns: a first declension feminine: ἡ ἀρχή: beginning, from which we get the English words “archaic” and “archeology”; the second declension masculine ὁ λόγος, word, from which we get “logic” and “theology”; and a mixed bag word which could be either masculine or feminine — you have to pay attention to the attached article: ὁ θεός, ἡ θεός, god or goddess.

I’m sure those of you reading this who know some Greek are mentally nudging one another with barely-disguised glee, the kind novelists invoke with the well-worn phrase “little did she know….” Yes, the plot twist is coming.

With the next unit, we hit the verbs. Greek has all the Latin tenses, plus one more. It has all the Latin verb moods, plus one more. It has an extra voice. It even has an extra number, distinguishing between singular, plural, and dual (just two). That’s a lot of verb forms to learn.

Let me spare you the details, but for the first time since I was in high school, there are 3×5 cards in stacks all over the house, wherever I happened to leave a set the last time I found a few minutes to study, minutes that usually add up to at least an hour every day. The ones with green edges have the principal parts of verbs, the ones with yellow edges give the cases for nouns and adjectives, the multicolored ones hold details on prepositions and which cases they take and how the meaning changes with the case. The blue-edged ones have grammar rules for conditional phrases with wonderful names like “future more vivid”, clauses of purpose with different levels of purposefulness, summaries of all possible endings, and rules for accents that give new meaning to the concept of mathematical chaos. I’m sure there’s a connection, since my teachers insist there’s a pattern even if I can’t find it. The blue-edged cards are the most bent and draggled of the bunch, because for some reason, I can’t keep straight whether the future passive indicative uses the un-augmented aorist stem or the augmented perfect stem with an extra syllable thrown in so you don’t confuse it with the perfect passive, and I have to look up which verb stem is used when, even if I remember the six stems and the proper endings for the tense and mood and voice in question.

There was a time when I thought sequence of moods meant something like the sequence of emotional states on getting a new software program that doesn’t quite do everything you hoped — anticipation, joy, frustration, resignation. Now I realize the “sequence of moods” depends on the verb tense used in the independent clause to govern the tense in the subordinate clause. There is probably some philosophical observation to be made there, but at the moment, I’m just trying to keep my tenses straight. I sometimes feel that if I manage to get the pluperfect endings lodged firmly in my head, the aorist ones will fall out the other side.

But there is more to learning a language than memorizing forms or appreciating its contributions to one’s own native vocabulary. The next step is translation, and while forms may be approached with rigorous method (even if there are lots of niggling details), translating is rarely straightforward.

That’s because words don’t just have meaning in some one-to-one correspondence between languages, any more than chartreuse, lime, Kelly, or Lincoln all mean the same green, even though they all mean “green” at some level.

After centuries of use in philosophical, scientific, and theological works, ἀρχή and λόγος have become loaded terms in Greek, words that absolutely defy a one-word decoding translation.

  • ἀρχή can mean beginning, or the first principles or elements on which all else is built, or the source of power, and by extension an empire, realm, authority, or even command.
  • λόγος can mean the story one tells in words, a speech one makes — that is, the spoken-out-loud-word that stirs others to action (one of Aristotle’s three modes of persuasion), or the reason why one does something, or the root or basis behind an action.
  • θεός is more direct: it unambiguously means a god, a deity; it cannot be used for something merely divine or spiritually-inclined.

We did a lot of sentences with the vocabulary words in different situations, partly to learn the different forms, but also to gain by experience appreciation for the nuances of meaning.

  1. Homer taught the men with words (using speech).
  2. The poets teach well by means of stories (skillful use of rhetoric).
  3. The young men learned skills with words (learned to reason clearly or speak clearly).
  4. The messengers from the enemy destroyed the peace with words (of persuasion).

On December 24, I could sit down and work out out the Gospel for the first Eucharist of Christmas in Greek: Ἐν ἀρχῇ ἦν ὁ λόγος, καὶ ὁ λόγος ἦν πρὸς τὸν θεόν, καὶ θεός ἦν ὁ λόγος.

I know the English translation, “in the beginning was the word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.”, but the Greek means more than that, so the author of John meant more than the plain English. In a word-for-word translation, the text arrives in English naked, stripped of all the nuances the author surely reasoned out when he chose those words to begin his story and lay out the foundations of his faith so long ago.

And that’s the reason for learning Greek: to read and recognize what Homer and Aristotle, Herodotus and Sophocles, Plato and the authors of the New Testament really said, and to get closer to what they still have to say to us today, in all its complexity.

Learning Greek is hard work, and that’s okay. Learning anything, and learning it well is hard work. It takes time and effort and repetition and review and thought and puzzlement and clarification.

I make lots of mistakes, and that’s okay, too. My mistakes in class provide harmless amusement to my teacher and classmates and they don’t hurt me. In fact, I usually remember the points I’ve flubbed better over the long run than the ones I somehow, and often accidentally, got right the first time.

But the very best part of my own personal Greek journey is something I haven’t mentioned yet: my teacher was once one of our own students.

And for a teacher, it doesn’t get much better than this: to sit at the feet of your own student, and learn something new.

It turns out that taking Greek really is a very fine thing.

There are no short cuts. Really.

Tuesday, January 26th, 2016

Several years ago, while hunting for something to add to Dr. Bruce’s extensive Shakespeare media collection, we ran across a short documentary called “The Hobart Shakespeareans”. It’s a profile of teacher Rafe Esquith of the Los Angeles school district, and his dedication to his fifth-grade students. Besides the normal coursework required by the state for the grade level, Mr. Esquith encouraged his students, many of them from a disadvantaged area, to put in extra hours to create an end-of-term production of a Shakespeare play (in the documentary, it’s Hamlet). The success of the documentary led Esquith to write about his experiences in “There Are No Shortcuts”.

In the half-dozen years or so since I read Esquith’s book, I’ve found myself using that phrase a lot. Managers seem to think there should be a single, simple process that can solve all of their problems, but there is no short cut to good design: you have to analyze the situation and balance security, hardware, and software requirements. Students seem to think a week’s extension to study for an exam will fix a year’s worth of neglecting homework and failing quizzes or skipping classes, but there is no short cut to knowledge. You need disciplined study and review habits.

Some of this, I think, is the result of living in the instant-feedback, information-based age that that Internet has created for us. It’s easy to run a search engine and get some data to answer a question. Most of my students can google a website faster than I can, and then use the control-F find command to locate a term, and cut-and-past a response into our online discussions. They are experts at rapid retrieval.

The problem is that in their haste (if they bother to actually read it all), they haven’t noticed that the string they’ve chosen doesn’t actually define the term we’re discussing, doesn’t explain how it relates to other ideas, and doesn’t show them how to apply it. They have some data, but no context for it, and no way to determine whether it is accurate, or the prejudiced opinion of an agenda-driven author. What they have is not really knowledge, and certainly not wisdom. Yet we are often content merely to commend their ability follow a process that allows them to look something up quickly, as though this were the end, and not simply the means. We fail to push them to acquire and apply critical thinking skills to what they have found, so that they can truly evaluate its importance and implications.

Too often, students who are asked to write an essay expressing their own ideas and to justify their position with their own reasons find it much easier to look up the idea online and present the arguments as their own work. When a math or physics problem proves challenging, instead of working the solution out themselves and risking getting it wrong, they hunt for the worked-out example at some “resource” site, and copy whatever approach is presented. We used to identify blatantly copying someone else’s work — however easily available — as plagiarism, and suspend students for cheating this way, but faced with competition for college admission and lucrative jobs, students (and even their parents and their teachers) will justify these methods as “just shortcuts”, so the students can have time to do all the other things we expect them to accomplish. [At Scholars Onlilne, we still consider presenting someone else's work as one's own a form of plagiarism, and our polcies on cheating spell out the consequences.]

We have traded the goal of depth of knowledge and real mastery of a subject for a breadth of information so expansive that it can be nothing other than superficial — it’s hardly knowledge and it certainly isn’t wisdom. Instead of struggling with ideas until we truly make them our own, we fracture our time into pieces to cover dozens of topics, many of which will be revised or disappear before our students can actually use them. In order to meet all of the perceived educational requirements, our students must split their attention and wind up constantly multitasking, often to the point where they miss the key idea of a discussion entirely, misinterpret their assignments, and answer the wrong questions altogether.

Any athlete, any performance artist, and any farmer can tell you that when you are trying to develop real skills or produce an edible real crop, there are no shortcuts.

There are no shortcuts that can eliminate the hours of focused training required to build muscle tone and cardiovascular endurance if you want to run a marathon, and there is no substitute for working with and accepting critical evaluation from a coach who can help you identify the behavior that slows you down. There are no shortcuts that will let you avoid hours of concentrated practice if you want to play a piano concerto perfectly and with passion, and you will still need a teacher who will help you realize and release your love for the piece. There no shortcuts that can eliminate the labor of planting, weeding, watering, and harvesting if you want to eat your carrot crop — and you will need the experience of others who have successfully raised carrots in the same valley if you are going to realize a good harvest. Even then, you will have to wait while nature does its own work with sun and rain and soil and teaches you patience.

What we often forget is that practice and coaching are also necessary if we want to grow in knowledge and wisdom. There are no shortcuts that will let you skip the disciplined study and reflective thought required to achieve mastery of a subject, much as we would like to think there are. It takes us time to review details and develop the memory skills needed to master a new concept. We need guidance to learn how to read complex material closely and critically, and criticism to hone that preception when we stray or become distracted. We need to take enough time to follow an argument, examine its premises, research the facts it cites, and determine for ourselves whether or not the conclusion is justified.

We need teacher and peer interaction to recognize that we have not expressed ourselves clearly and we need to restate or rewrite or redraw our ideas before we can really share them. We need the support of our learning community to encourage us when we fail at all of these things from time to time. We even need to practice our ability recognize our failures and to develop the discipline to try again, so that we can emulate the athlete who doesn’t give up after losing her first race, the pianist who doesn’t stop practicing with the first flubbed trill, and the farmer who weeds and waters and bides his time until the harvest is ready.

With our educational system’s emphasis on preparing for the technical skills needed in the twenty-first century, we have forgotten that classical liberal arts education in critical thinking is the foundation on which we build build those skills, but also the foundation on which we build our system of values. The average worker in the 21st century will hold a dozen jobs, not just one, and the skills and technical expertise for each job will require retraining. We need to emphasize not only the skills that will make retraining easier — critical thinking and self-evaluation — but also the character traits of honesty, integrity, charity, and patience that will make our children valuable citizens of their communities as well as employable members of the work force.

News — Spring 2015

Sunday, May 17th, 2015

National French Teachers Examination

Congratulations to Mrs. Mary Catherine Lavissière’s students Katie Cruse, Alana Ross, Micah Wittenberg, and Moriah Wittenberg! These four Scholars Online students placed with honors in the National French Test Le Grand Concours 2015. The test is offered annually by the American Association of Teachers of French to identify and recognize students achieving high proficiency in the French language.

Madame Lavissière offers courses in both French and Spanish through Scholars Online. See our Modern Languages course descriptions for more information.
Update on Summer Session Courses for 2015

We’ve added several new courses for the summer session, which runs from June 8-August 21, 2015 (individual courses may span different periods within the session, so check your course description for exact start dates). Most summer classes are chances for students to build new skills in fun but still useful ways. Click on the course name to see descriptions of class schedules and costs, and on syllabus links to see detailed course content and assignments. Enrollment must be completed by May 31 to ensure placement in the course, and payment in full is due before students can attend chat sessions. Enrollments received after May 31 may not be processed in time for students to attend the first sessions of their course.

  • Explore the many facets of J.R.R. Tolkien’s creation in Looking at Middle-earth. Discussions will focus on Tolkien’s world-building, use of language, his theology of “subcreation”, and his work as a philologist. Students are expected to have read The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings.
  • Sample Shakespeare’s comedy, tragedy, and history plays, including Twelfth Night, As You Like ItThe Taming of the Shrew,The Merchant of VeniceA Midsummer Night’s DreamKing LearJulius CaesarRomeo and Juliet, and Richard II in Summer Shakespeare I. Students taking Scholars Online’s literature series, supplemented with Summer Shakespeare II and III, have the opportunity to study and discuss all of Shakespeare’s plays. [See the Full Syllabus for details.]
  • Gain practical writing skills with Molding Your Prose (based on an idea suggested to Dr. Bruce McMenomy by Mary McDermott Shideler). Learn to organize your ideas and improve your dialectic skills in Molding your Argument. Both of these popular courses requires short weekly writing exercises, with students analyzing each others’ work to learn to identify and improve their own writing.
  • Jump start your academic year Physics course with an overview of key theories and concepts in Introduction to Physics, a survey of the fundamental concepts of classical mechanics and modern physics, and gain essential analysis and problem-solving skills. Students planning to take the combined AP Physics 1 and 2 course will be able to count lab work from this course toward their AP lab requirements. [Full syllabus]
  • NEW COURSE! In The Age of Reagan, discover how the events and decisions of the Reagan administration have shaped current political, religious, economic, and environmental policies. Students opting for the media studies component of this course will also examine how movies, TV, and ads portray cultural messages (parental guide available in the full syllabus).

Reminder: PSAT/NMSQT and Classics Exams Online Deadlines

Sunday, September 28th, 2014

2014 PSAT/NMSQT 15 October and 18 October

Register now: The 2014 PSAT/NMSQT, otherwise known as the National Merit Test, will be offered Wednesday October 15 or Saturday, October 18, depending on the test site. When taken in your junior year, your score on this $14 standardized test (plus any small additional fee a school may charge for administrative costs) is used by many companies, non-profit organizations, colleges, and universities to identify students qualified to receive merit scholarship awards, and by many students to prepare for the SAT examinations in their senior year. The examination is only offered at high schools, so you must contact a local school to register, pay the fees, and make arrangements to take the test. Check the College Board site for schools near you offering the test, and further information about the program.

For more information bout the PSAT/NMSQT: check the College Board general information page on the National Merit exam.

Homeschoolers planning to take the National Merit exam should check these special instructions.

2014 National JCL On-line Exams

The National Junior Classical League offers online examinations to students, with medals awarded for gold, silver, and bronze achievement levels.

Registration for the National Classical Etymology Exam (NCEE) opened September 1. Regular registration at $4.00 per student closes October 17, and late registration at $8.00 per student closes October 27. Payment must be mailed by November 3, 2014 so that proctors can receive instructions and examination copies. The exam is administered between November 3 and December 5, 2014.

The NCEE tests a student’s ability to handle Latin and Greek derivatives and their usage in the English language. For an overview of the exam contents, and to practice with the 2013 exam, visit the NCEE Overview page.

Registration for the National Roman Civilization Exam (NRCE) opens November 3, 2014. Regular registration at $4.00 per student closes January 30, 2015, and late registration at $8.00 closes February 5, 2015. The examination is administered between February 11 and March 20, 2015.

The NRCE tests a student’s knowledge of Roman society. For an overview of the exam contents, and to practice with the 2013 examination, visit the NRCE overview page.

New this year is the National Latin Vocabulary Exam. Registration for this exam (NLVE) opens November 3, 2014. Regular registration at $4.00 per student closes January 30, 2015, and late registration at $8.00 closes February 5, 2015. The examination is administered between February 11 and March 20, 2015.

The NLVE tests a student’s command of Latin vocabulary, and consists of 70 multiple choice questions which must be answered in 45 minutes. Vocabulary lists are tested at six levels: ½ and 1 (first and second year Latin), 2 (preparation fo Caesar), 3, 4, and 5+ (Latin vocabulary for Caesar, Vergil, and Cicero). The wordlists are available by free download for study.

Homeschoolers should use their last name and “Homeschool” as the name of their school, and arrange for someone who is not the parent teaching the student to proctor the test. If you have further questions, contact onlinetests@njcl.org.

CHAT and POLICY ORIENTATION SESSIONS

Wednesday, August 20th, 2014

Orientation sessions on using the Scholars Online chat are scheduled for

  • Monday, 25 August, 8pm Eastern / 5pm Pacific
  • Wednesday, 27 August, 3pm Eastern / noon Pacific
  • Friday, 29 August, 11am Eastern / 8am Pacific

Policy orientation sessions have also been scheduled to allow parents and students to meet with Scholars Online administrators and teachers to discuss our policies and ask questions in live chat. Long-time parents and students are also welcome to come and share their SO stories!

  • Wednesday August 27, 8PM Eastern / 5pm Pacific
  • Thursday August 28, 8PM Eastern / 5pm Pacific

To attend orientation sessions, log into the Moodle with your Scholars Online userid and password, click on the “Sign up for orientation” link in the upper left-hand corner of your personal home page, then select the Chat link you wish to review or attend. Chats are only open during the times specified. Note that the Moodle may be down during the period between August 20 and August 24!

If you are unable to attend a session, you may still review logs from earlier sessions.

We also encourage you to check out our website pages for information on our policies, teacher contact information, and especially our “Frequently Asked Questions” link. If you have a question you think should be answered on the FAQs page for the benefit of others, please let us know.

Creative Writing Course Changes

Wednesday, August 20th, 2014

Mrs. Krista Alsop has been forced by changed circumstances to drop the Creative Writing course, but Dr. Bruce McMenomy is planning to take it over if there is sufficient interest. His plan is to draw on Mrs. Alsop’s materials, but he will be rethinking the course and adapting it to his own styles and approaches to writing. We’ll work with creative writing fiction, non-fiction, and poetry. A possibility will be participation in the National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) in November, but that certainly is not required. So far enrollment is right on the edge, but if your student is interested in this opportunity, don’t hesitate to enroll. If you have questions about it, please write to Dr. McM at mcmenomy@dorthonion.com.

Moodle Upgrade

Wednesday, August 20th, 2014

The Scholars Online Moodle environment is being upgraded during the period between August 19-August 24 and may be unavailable for several hours at a time during this period. The Scholars Online home page, account management centers may also be offline briefly during system reboots to install security patches. We plan to be online and stable as of Monday morning, August 25. There will be a period of transition while we work out the new theme, so the appearance may change. We thank you for your patience during this period!

August News

Saturday, August 2nd, 2014

Enrollment and Registration Deadlines

It’s hard to believe that it is already August. Open enrollment for academic year courses continues through August 22, and full tuition and fees are due by August 29. This applies even if you are using the installment option, unless you make arrangements with the accounts manager. While we may accept enrollments and payments after that date for some courses (pending teacher approval), any delays in processing account information could prevent students from being admitted to chat sessions—so please complete registration and enrollment as soon as possible!

Each new student with a paid membership will notification of his or her temporary password at the student’s registered email address. Please make sure that these notices are not being filtered to junk mail!

Scholarship Deadlines

The Scholars Online Board of Directors allocates part of our annual budget to our scholarship fund, as well as all income from our bookstore affiliation with Amazon.com. Families may be awarded waivers up to 50% of tuition for demonstrated need, including job loss, medical expenses, or other family emergencies.

Scholarships are granted on a case-by-case basis for tuition assistance when students would otherwise be unable to take courses due to job loss, medical expenses, or other family emergencies. Contact accounts@scholarsonine.org as soon as possible if you wish information about applying for scholarships for our 2014-2015 courses. Some scholarship funds for this year have already been allocated. Final decisions on remaining scholarship distributions will be made August 15. Please consider your request prayerfully; our resources are limited and once distributed, are not available for other families.

Direct contributions to our scholarship fund are tax-exempt, as Scholars Online is a 501c(3) organization. To make a donation by check or online, see our Scholarship page. You may also donate by making purchases from Amazon.com through the Scholars Online Bookstore site or by designated Scholars Online as your charity of choice at http://smile.amazon.com.

Moodle Access

We will be installing and testing a long-delayed upgrade to the Moodle software starting August 11. Although we will attempt to limit outages to evenings after 6pm PDT or weekends, access may be restricted at other times as well. Students submitting over-the-summer examinations or lab work may need to adjust their schedules to complete all assigned work by their course deadlines.

Students and families who are not returning to Scholars Online for the fall will lose access to the Moodle on August 31. If you need to download assignments or scores for your records, please do so prior to that date. Families will continue to have access to transcripts and invoice records through the Account Management Centers.