You have to understand something to get the real beauty of my decision. When I was a young, upstart teacher in inner-city Memphis, I was a creative whiz kid. My classroom was like a little Disneyland, and I almost always had fun, hands-on, whoop-dee-doo stuff going ALL.THE.TIME.
Then our school adopted a reading program that was SCRIPTED.
I was not happy 'bout that, folks.
There was huffing.
There was puffing.
There were numerous comments about not needing a college degree if all they wanted me to do was read a script.
Trained monkeys, you know... yada, yada, yada....
Well, here I am 15 years later. I'm older and slower. The creativity of youth is making way for the exhaustion of middle age, and I happen to like reading a script now. It hurts a lot less than thinking.
This week Wilbur and I started our scripted lessons with Meet the Masters.
Love it. Love it. Love it.
The script isn't dry or insulting to the teacher. It follows a nice slide-show of art, and afterwards, there are instructions on implementing the techniques of the master of the week. All of which is very easy to implement for a much-too-busy homeschool mom like me.
Our master this week was VanGogh, and here are our replications of his work, Starry Night.
Kinda looks like a Tim Burton movie, doesn't it?!?
It ain't Disneyland but it's getting the job done, and that's better than wishing on a starry, starry night for some young, creative teacher to come and rescue me. I'm too old for fairy godmothers.