You’ve either thrown up in your mouth a little, or climbed on a soap box to defend those two words.
I’ll explain why my boys have the solution to the former and will crush the latter.
I walked in the door from work today and found myself in the middle of an intense battle.
I’ll admit. Prior to becoming a moving target myself today,
I had no previous knowledge of what this was.
Oscar hunkered down, stabilizing his legs for strength, as if getting ready to lift a 50 lb. boulder. He slowly pulled his sock over his shoulder like Nolan Ryan getting ready to let an 8th inning offering go…whirling it in a circle with speed and precision that would make David (as in the the kid that crushed Goliath) proud.
And just as he was about to let his weapon of choice do its magic, I ask…
“What’s Dodge Sock?”
With a grin larger than life, not skipping a beat as he whipped a sock into a 100 MPH frenzy, he says…
“It’s like dodge ball, except you really don’t want to get hit…BECAUSE IT SMELLS!”
I turn around to see the object of his affection. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say the object of his affliction. As in the one he was about to put on…
His little brother.
It’s this scene that should be the norm for two young kids.
Not benchmarks, evaluations and stressful testing situations.
Show me a child that can invent a new game, love his brother, giggle almost uncontrollably…and I will show you a kid that is living the way he was always meant to.
He asks to read. He asks me to tell him a story, not just read one to him, every night.
He has a love for imaginative exploration.
And it’s that very part of him that is being drained every time our education system slaps a scantron and #2 pencil in front of him. He longs to go to the library and read. He’d love to, and would be thinking about, playing a little “Dodge Sock” along the way. He wants to dream, explore, climb trees, tell stories, hear them read, or made up and told to him.
Just like his socks…IT SMELLS.
The common core of a young mind is not made up of perfectly filled in bubbles…but in his ability to run through an open yard blowing them on a warm summer day. The common core is not the test about the book, it’s the joy of reading it. It’s not about testing for comprehension, it’s the removal of stressful situations and replacing them with healthy educational exploration. It’s being a kid on every level, not rushing in to being 40 by the time they are 10. They’ll be plenty of time to be older, later. Let’s let them be young, now. The youngest of us has this whole thing boiled down to one small theory, if we’d only listen…watch…and wait for them to help us understand.
Grab some socks.
Whip them into a frenzy.
And giggle uncontrollably.
I feel like Dr Seuss may offer thoughts similar to this…
The common core is a bore that would cause
the most rambunctious young lad to fall asleep and snore.
And that’s a crime.
Robbing a child from their childhood…
Just because we need to act like we have found the golden ticket.
The only golden ticket my 8 year old needs to know, read or learn about has already been found.
Charlie will tell him all about it.
Something about a journey to a chocolate factory.
The irony is not lost on me that the common core is a whole other kind of chocolate factory.
Think appearance and color. 😉
Sorry if this is too juvenile a response for the “highly educated” that may be reading this.
I’ve gotta run…
I’ve gotta run…
If I don’t I’m likely to catch a smelly sock to the temple.
Time to play some DODGE SOCK!
Look at that smile.