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Monday, April 30, 2018

Graduation: The End of Our Homeschooling Journey

Four years ago I made the difficult decision to homeschool my son.  Considering I am a full-time working single mom, it was a leap of faith.

THE DECISION

A couple of years before that, my son's ADHD was confirmed and formally diagnosed by his Developmental Pediatrician.  By then he was already enrolled in a big school, and, while he integrated successfully in preschool, he had difficulty coping with the multiple changes once he started in 1st Grade.  My attempts at getting the teachers onboarded on the right techniques only managed to "brand" my son.  It was a painful year for me and especially for my son, whose psoriasis manifested prematurely (the doctor's earliest case in all her years of practice) due to the stress.

The following school year I enrolled him in a smaller population school with a SPED (Special Education) program.  It was definitely more successful than the traditional school.  However, I noticed that my son was getting by on his lessons by looking at patterns (i.e. common nouns have small letters and proper nouns use capital letters) when answering his quizzes, but was not really understanding the concepts.  I found myself redoing the lessons, coming up with creative ways to teach him his lessons, right before the quarterly exams --- which was stressful for both of us. During a particularly long ranting session, my sister pointed out, "Ate, you do realize you're practically homeschooling your son, right?"

So ... I filed for a 3-month sabbatical and prepared to homeschool my son.

THE UPS AND DOWNS

Three months into homeschooling, there was marked improvement in my son's behavior and his psoriasis disappeared.  He was greatly enjoying our sessions, looking forward to them each day; while I felt a sense of fulfillment knowing that I am able to teach his lessons in his "language" and to spend good quality time with him.  The whole world was our classroom and every moment was a potential learning experience.  It was fun coming up with the materials and integrating lessons from different subjects.  I basked in my son's daily affirmations, "You are the best teacher ever, Mom!"

When my sabbatical ended, though, it became a huge challenge juggling homeschool, work and business trips.  I requested for a Europe shift role, so that I can schedule homeschool sessions in the morning and leave him with activities for the afternoon.  This meant I had to check his work in the weekends and utilize it for repeating lessons he did not fully / correctly comprehend.  And that is just the regular days.

Business trips were a killer.  Schedules required me to be out for 10 days to two weeks at a time, so I had to prepare lessons and materials before my trip.  In 3rd and 4th grade, that meant preparing hand-drawn activity sheets, putting post-it markers on book pages, printing the schedule and hoping & praying to God that he can complete on his own.  It was hit or miss ... mostly, miss.  When I got back from business trips, we would typically have to double time on the lessons.

During 5th and 6th grade, we already had our rhythm and my son could (most of the time) follow his schedule on his own.  My new role was also more flexible and my managers (God bless them!) were very supportive, finding ways to make business trips work with homeschool schedules.  I am also grateful for the wonderful gifts of technology.  Before every flight out, I prepared his lessons, got materials from the internet (videos, graphics, interactive exercises and worksheets) and sent these to my sister, who sent these to my son on the lesson day itself.  (It must be said, that my sister vastly contributed to the success of our homeschooling journey, being my co-parent, emotional punching bag, voice of reason and sermon alternate through the years).

THE END

Late last year, my son was also diagnosed with Aspergers (in the high-functioning Autism Spectrum) which had become more pronounced and apparent due to the onset of puberty.  This was the explanation for his social awkwardness, which sometimes meant unacceptable social behavior. His DevPed recommended for him to go to a Progressive school (on top of taking social skills classes) so that he gets more social exposure in a controlled yet more open environment.  And, while I was a bit apprehensive, I knew that it is the right direction for my son.

THE CATHOLIC FILIPINO ACADEMY

For the four years that I had been homeschooling my son, CFA (Catholic Filipino Academy / Barcelona Academy), our homeschool provider, also grew with me.  I appreciate the flexibility to support a single homeschooling mom like myself.  The constant feedback process and regular dialogue helped enable a better homeschooling journey for us.  The past couple of years, particularly, brought about huge improvements in the school's lessons and exams structure, activity scheduling, parents:parent-coach support system, parent equipping workshops, and Monday and Friday clubs.

In fact, it is bittersweet that our final year was our best year yet in CFA.  The South Monday clubs paved the way to forge meaningful friendships, not just for my son but also for me.  While my son attended various clubs, I hung out with parents who, I found, share the same values and principles I have.  Conversations with them served as a good break and, also, soulfood for me.

THE GRADUATION

The day before the graduation, we had our final practice and reminders at our homeschool headquarters.  This was the only time the Philippine chapter of the batch was ever complete and they were a LOT.  It was crunch time once again and we did not have the presentation buttoned down yet.  But, with parents and children pulling together, we were able to complete the practice and smooth out the rough edges in just three hours (even though we changed the positions and transitions a million times).

When the kids presented on stage the following day, it looked as if they practiced for weeks.  It was beautifully perfect!  There was a short skit and a final song, "Flashlight". The meaning of the words and the powerfully emotional rendition of the children tugged at my heartstrings.  If I wasn't manning the lights, I probably would have been bawling over.

After the ceremonies, the 6th graders trooped to the photo booth and gladly posed for the proud parents.  It was easily a 30-minute exercise with the kids doing different poses with their white togas and their formal clothes.

I stood on one side, allowing my son to squeeze as much fun and good memories out of this moment.


This was it, the culmination of all the years of relearning old lessons, sleepless nights, endless time outs (both parent and child), tears and scream-till-my-voice-is-hoarse moments.  Also, it is the end of a beautiful chapter of shared failures and triumphs, that strengthened not just our characters but also our relationship.  As my homeschooling mommy friend aptly said, "These are golden times", that I will forever keep in the treasure store of my heart.

To those of you thinking of homeschooling, go for it!  I promise you, it will be some of the best (uhm ... with a few bad days in between) years of your life with your children.








Sunday, April 29, 2018

Choose Your Rules

Art By Xenia Rassolova (La-Chapeliere-Folle)
It's been a month, since I had written anything other than my daily poetry.  But, while I had been busy, the bigger reason for my "silence" is nothing more than a rule (and its various permutations) that I had lived by ever since I was a child: First things first; or first in, first out; or finish what you start before starting something new.

I have to follow the chronological order of things.  Thus, while I would feel particularly moved to write about something, I can't bring myself to write about it until I have finished writing about something that happened before that.

For this cycle, it started with the "Inspire@P&G" series of talks for middle management.  I took down a substantial amount of notes, meaning to write about it once I had the time.  The next time I did have time was on my son's graduation.  That day I felt strongly about the graduation ceremonies and intended to write ... but I had to finish the one about the P&G talks first.  However, I was feeling "meh" about the topic and couldn't move forward.  By the time I felt like writing about my first legit hiking with my son and baby sister, I had 2 other topics to write about before I could start the hike blog.

I now have 5 topics waiting to be written. (This is not one of them).

I normally have only a one hour window to write, after I wrap up the day's work, if I still want some decent sleep.  And heaven knows I need sleep!  So, stuck and forlorn, I end up closing my laptop and sleep drowning in a sea of jumbled thoughts and emotions.  It's getting immensely cramped up there, I fear I might explode any moment now.

This simple rule has also kept me from picking up a new book if the one I am currently reading is not interesting enough.  I only diverted from this rule (when it comes to books) fairly recently.  I still feel guilty giving up on a book before I have finished it.  I feel as if I have not given the book its fair chance and have judged prematurely.  I always feel like I need to see it through, so I end up suffering through it.  At the end of it I think to myself, at least I have definitive data that I don't like it.  No what-ifs.
Art By Xenia Rassolova (La-Chapeliere-Folle)

But, then, I have wasted precious time on a book I don't like, when I could have used it reading something I like.

Damned if you do. Damned if you don't.

BUT life is too short to waste on useless endeavors (or books ... or people).

I realize, the rule should be discretionary.  Where art is concerned, the rule only manages to restrict or hamper creativity.  There is a time for everything ... even great ideas.  It is perfectly fine to shelf these and pick them up when the right time comes.  And when the inspiration strikes, I will let myself go.  In full abandon, I will flow and let it take me where it wills.





Saturday, April 28, 2018

Poetic Doses: 9 Days. 9 Lives.

#365daysofpoetry Days 110 to 118

9 days.  9 lives. 10 poems.

Art By Ferdie Cacnio
Days of endless wakings
And aimless wanderings;
Finally at the throes of sleep
I fall in grateful surrender,
That body, mind, heart and soul
Find rest, wrapped in a blanket of dreams.

At the "Lion King" musical

There is nothing as pure, profound and complete as a child's love.


Photo By JM Gustilo
There is
   Distance
      Time
   Circumstance
      and Consequence.

   Dynamic.
      Transforming.

And yet there is ...
   My love.
      Still.
   Unchanging.

For you.
   Only.




Photo By: JM Gustilo
Shower upon me
Stardusts;
Blessings and graces
To shine me through the night.
When darkness surrounds me
And shadows are ominous,
Sprinkle stardust upon my nose
That I might remember to look up;
Squinting to find You
In the littlest, most persistent of lights.










Art By: @lizaflowers via IG


What makes up a good person?
How does one breed good humans?

A soul chipped from God's Spirit.
A heart molded into His likeness.
A mind that sees with His eyes.

Yes.
But how?

How does one safeguard the purest of stars
From the corruption of darkness?
How does one protect
From monsters within?
How does one run
From ghosts of the past?

How does one breed perfectly good humans
Despite one's imperfection
Amidst a world preying on itself?
How?


Photo By:  JM Gustilo

A million years

I have waited
For one
To whisper my name.

Until then I remain lost
Unnamed and uncharted.

















Art By:  Migs Villanueva
Under the moon's pale light
The tug of Love's first heatbeat
As drops of her silent tears fell
The vow to safeguard a heart so fragile.



















Art By: Ma'Dee Osabel
For, when sleep engulfs me,
I shed my wings.
And, until I dip my toes in coffee,
There shall be no angel here.











Art By:  Migs Villanueva

For all that war ever brings are
Ghosts in the wind
Faceless children that roam the streets
Fatherless, motherless and aimless
An entire generation
Borne out of grief, resentment and anger.


Sculpture By Ma'Dee Osabel

And, in the end,
When all is lost ... and forgotten
I ask only for honesty, 
The courage to own your truth.

(dahil sa #sawakasmusical ; #5years Filipino version)




Friday, April 20, 2018

Poetic Dose: The Future is Female

#365daysofpoetry Days 108 and 109

In my latest business trip to the US, I stayed at 21C Museum Hotel where they featured all-female artists exhibit entitled, "The Future is Female".  Below are a couple of my favorite pieces.

Part of "Return to Camp" by Fay Ku (Taiwanese)
From "The Future is Female" exhibit at 21C Museum Hotel

Let us march forward, you and I
Left, right, left, right.
With you beside me ... or behind
I can do everything conceived in my mind.
You and I, we can go high
Beyond the perceived limits of the sky.
There is no fear; no reason to hide
When you believe in my light and you are mine.



Art By street artist Swoon
From "The Future is Female" exhibit at 21C Museum Hotel

No, no.  I am not dull. 
Merely pensive (or bored)
In the mile you have spoken
Within the span of a minute
I have gone through
Every detail, facet and possibility.
And on that brief moment
When you catch your breath,
I only need a line or two
To break your mile.


Poetic Dose: 103 to 107

#365daysofpoetry Days 103 to 107


Oh!  If only I could
Lay upon this sea of white;
Or snuggle underneath
This white fluffy blanket;
Waltz, cartwheel or glide
Across this white dance floor;
Or just lazily bounce or float
Over this great white expanse.
Whatever it may be
It is a moment of borrowed peace.









Art by Inadoodles

dream, dream into me
for a moment
rest, my weary soul,
safe within the universe of my mind.















Art by Inadoodles

and in one final effort
it bursts forth into the light
heralding spring
as winter nips its fringes.
















Art by Hoche_art on Instagram

here in this secret place
where darkness dare not enter
you stroke my most secret parts
and probe my wounded soul
i breathe you in
and you calm my inner storms
till i am lost in your caress
and awaken, renewed, in your arms.













Photo by Peter Odekerken
And
   in that tiny room
   in that brief moment
     of surrender
I realized
   stress
   is nothing more than
     clinging to the illusion of control.







Friday, April 13, 2018

Poetic Doses: A Dozen and One

#365daysofpoetry Days 90 to 102

Photo By Paul Resurreccion (From the "Philippine Landscapes" Exhibit)
And as I sat
Looking out towards the sun,
The rain on my face subsided
A calm washed over me.

Then He said,
"Behold, I am making all things new."
(And I knew that He was; my heart smiled)







Art By Inadoodles on Instagram
What keeps you awake at night
When direction does not seem right?
Sort through the rubbles
Figure out the riddles;
With a few simple tips
To help you get my drift;
What the heart holds dear
Helps keep the mind clear.







Art By Hoche_art on Instagram
But where did you go, 91
I have suddenly lost count;
So I must post double
Though there won't be trouble;
Finding my quick inspiration
From Hoche's grid exploration;
So I can finally sleep
Before daylight whispers creep.


Pour into me
I want to know you
The shades that color
your everyday;
The brights and the darks
of your soul.




Art By Ronnie Pascual
For a moment
Be still
Look beyond
What you see.

I am made of
Simple lines:
Swirls
Of tangled worries;
Straights
Of measured strength;
Slants
Of burdened rests;
Waves
Of hidden tears.

Be still.
Just for a moment.
And see.
Me.




Art By Rovi Salegumba
I am tapestry
Like no other
Woven from
Memories,
Colored
By history,
Enfringed
With dreams,
Layered
With possibilities.

I stand
Tall and proud
Of my heritage
My forefathers' legacy.

I forge forward
Sure-footed
Make way! Make way
For the little brown man!




Lumad Coloring Book Cover by SaveOurSchoolsNetwork
In the chaos of everyday
The incessant noise of the grind
I look for the steady beating of your heart
And mine, dancing to our song.
















On overlapping days
When dawn comes too soon
I am grateful
For rare windows of quiet.

















My travel buddies
All in a row
We're all set
And ready to go!

















Philippine Airlines Blanket!
warm and fuzzy
soft and homey
hide within me
i'm your blankey.


















The beauty of empitness

Is the promise of being filled.


















Photo By: Jacob Maentz
For, in truth, there is no difference between 100 days and 100 years;
Only the many shared moments and the moments of unwanted solitude.





















Art By Inadoodles
In awe I watched the stars
And in curiosity they showered down on me.













Sunday, April 01, 2018

Black Saturday

Today is Black Saturday.  While I know that this is a time of both mourning Christ's death and waiting for His promised resurrection, I also know that this is the time He "descended into hell".  But why?  Was it just a formality to show that He actually died?  Perhaps.  But I felt like I was missing something.  As it is a bit late to knock on my Papa's (who is a catechist) door and I couldn't find my Catechism book, I decided to research on the internet (thank heavens for Google!).

Apparently, Jesus went to hell because that is where all the souls (good and bad) were.  He went to pick up all the holy souls that came before Him and finally brought them home to Heaven.  Oh, and he also did a bit of preaching there.  He did not leave any stone unturned. How cool is that?!

According to the Catechism of the Catholic Church:
633 Scripture calls the abode of the dead, to which the dead Christ went down, “hell” - Sheol in Hebrew or Hades in Greek - because those who are there are deprived of the vision of God.
Such is the case for all the dead, whether evil or righteous, while they await the Redeemer: which does not mean that their lot is identical, as Jesus shows through the parable of the poor man Lazarus who was received into “Abraham's bosom”:
“It is precisely these holy souls, who awaited their Saviour in Abraham's bosom, whom Christ the Lord delivered when he descended into hell.”
Jesus did not descend into hell to deliver the damned, nor to destroy the hell of damnation, but to free the just who had gone before him.
634 “The gospel was preached even to the dead.” The descent into hell brings the Gospel message of salvation to complete fulfillment.
This is the last phase of Jesus' messianic mission, a phase which is condensed in time but vast in its real significance: the spread of Christ's redemptive work to all men of all times and all places, for all who are saved have been made sharers in the redemption.


The author also talked about the liturgical rites / ceremonies and the significance of each part.  Find out more here:  12 Things You Need to Know About Holy Saturday 

Art By:  Rovi Salegumba

In the dark of night 
We wait for You
Hearts heavy with sorrow
Mingled with joyful anticipation.

In the dark of night
We speak of You
Of the Messiah long foretold
That walked amongst us.

Then, in the dark of night
We see You
Our hearts rejoicing
Your resplendent New Dawn breaking

Alleluia!



Poetic Dose: Lenten Series

#365daysofpoetry Days 87 to 89


View from Mt. Ayaas

In the grand and in the small
Let me always be enthralled
That I might recognize You
In everything I see and do
To know always who I am
The one for whom You came.




Art By:  Inadoodles

Pondering You upon the cross
Your Love that led to the sacrifice;
The hear with immense capacity for Love;
The eyes that see only Good.

How is it that You
Love my every ugly broken part?
That in all Your greatness
You exalt me in my littleness?

And how is it that You,
Creator of heaven and earth,
Thirst for Love
From one as lowly as I am?

Pondering You upon the cross
I shall never understand;
Though it is enough that
The heart knows I am Yours.



Art By: Rovi Salegumba

In the dark of night 
We wait for You
Hearts heavy with sorrow
Mingled with joyful anticipation.

In the dark of night
We speak of You
Of the Messiah long foretold
That walked amongst us.

Then, in the dark of night
We see You
Our hearts rejoicing
Your resplendent New Dawn breaking

Alleluia!




Poetic Dose: 84, 85, 86

#365daysofpoetry Days 84 to 86



And when the morning comes
It shall find me walking forward
Steadfast towards my destination
Open to the journey's surprises.











How would I know
Which way to go?
Or if what is in front of me
Is trash or treasure?
How do I keep walking
To the beating of my heart?













Art By:  Vincent Manansala

so, this is what it feels like
to come into a frinding halt;
stare blankly into nothingness
with a mind devoid of thoughts;
but only for a few moments
a split-second of precious calm;
then the agitation escends
no, i should not squander Time so.