Home Learning Year By Year by Rebecca Rupp

This is the 7th post in my series about books related to teaching, learning and homeschooling. 

(See my earlier post for a description of the series.)

"There are many roads to an educational Rome," writes Rebecca Rupp in her book, Home Learning Year By Year: How to Design a Homeschool Curriculum from Preschool Through High School. While she isn't the first to advocate moving away from a one-size-fits-all approach to education, she is the only experienced homeschooler I know who has written a comprehensive book aimed at helping those who want to design their own course of study.

I remember when I first came across her book. I was feeling anxious, eager to try something new but not entirely sure how to go about it. I hadn't been homeschooling for long, maybe a few months, but I had already reached a point where I knew the curriculum I'd borrowed from the school wasn't going to work for us. The pre-planned activities were contrived and unrelated to my daughter's interests, and she quickly became bored with the worksheets and textbooks. Now what? I wondered. My trouble was that I had no experience with designing my own curriculum. I'd been assuming I'd be able to depend on McGraw-Hill, Pearson and Houghton-Mifflin to lead the way.

Home Learning Year by Year was just what I needed at the time. It offered me guidance without being prescriptive. Instead of mandating "What Your First Grader Needs to Know," it outlined a typical program of study while allowing for individual differences. Her goal was to help parents become familiar "with the general course of the standardized educational curriculum," but only so that they could use it "as a reference point and a guideline rather than a set of predetermined assignments."

And that's exactly what I used it for: a reference and a guideline.

As a reference, the book offers recommendations for books, websites, games and more. While the recommendations—particularly the URLs—are mostly out-of-date now, they were incredibly helpful during the pre-Internet years, back when I first started homeschooling. Thanks to Rebecca Rupp, my kids and I were introduced to:

• Funny history books by Kathleen Krull and Jean Fritz
• Entertaining math stories, creative hands-on activities, and the remarkable Marilyn Burns
• Janice Van Cleave's science experiments (for all grade levels)
• . . . and much more

As a guideline, Home Learning Year By Year was essential to me because my kids straddled multiple grade levels throughout their homeschooling years. I would skim the chapters to get a sense of how my children were doing in various subjects and adjust my plans accordingly. For example, if at the age of seven my daughter was already comfortable with "fourth-grade" mathematics but hadn't yet figured out how to use a dictionary, I might spend a little time showing her how guide words work instead of recommending yet another math game to her.

Home Learning Year By Year was a book I turned to again and again because it comforted me to see that even though I wasn't dictating what my children should learn from one year to the next, they were always making progress, mastering different skills each year. I took Ms. Rupp's wise advice to heart, and I share it with you here:

"No parent should view the standardized curriculum as cause for worry. Children vary, and homeschoolers inevitably will find that their more-or-less first grader isn't quite standard. . . . The standardized curriculum can indicate academic areas in which kids need extra help and support—or creative substitutes and alternatives, or stress-reducing periods of being left alone. Variation, though, is normal, and our many individual differences are what make the world the interesting place it is. Kids are natural learners, and each will find his or her own best way to learn."

Writing for a Purpose—Not for the SAT

My kids are not pleased. My oldest took the SAT in 2005, the year the Writing Section was added. "This writing test is so stupid!" she complained, "Who writes like this in real life?" Her younger sister agreed, as she took the SAT a few years later and was equally frustrated by the arbitrariness of the scoring. My youngest, a senior in high school, just finished taking the SAT last year. He was as annoyed with the writing test as his sisters had been.

So, you can imagine their collective reaction when they heard the recent announcement:

"The SAT Writing Section will no longer be required."

"Seriously?" they asked. "Why did they ever add it in the first place?" 

Good question. Why had it taken nine long years for the College Board to realize that a high-stakes, time-pressured, standardized test is a terrible way to assess writing skills? In what other situation would anyone be asked to prepare a handwritten (no pens or typing allowed), five-paragraph essay in under 25 minutes—with no access to reference materials, no time for review or revisions—and perfect on the first try?  Such a contrived scenario goes against everything I have tried to teach my kids about writing as a way to learn and communicate. 

Ask any writer. Writing isn't about getting points; it's about discovering your voice and articulating your thoughts in a clear, compelling way. A first draft of prose hastily cobbled together might be interesting—it might even be grammatically correct—but it doesn't really tell you much about the writer. Competent writers need to care enough about their writing to persevere during the iterative process of investigation, discovery, drafting and revision. A writer without any mettle probably isn't going to be much of a writer, no matter how impressive her initial draft of a five-paragraph essay might seem. 

When it comes to writing with a purpose and caring enough about your writing to keep working at it, William Zinsser (On Writing Well, Writing to Learn, and others) is an extraordinary mentor. Zinsser truly understands the connection between thinking and writing, and how the two reinforce each other.

"Writing is how we think our way into a discipline, organize our thoughts about it and generate new ideas" (p. 202, Writing to Learn).

By clarifying our thoughts in writing, we come to understand them better. That's why I've recently asked a group of homeschooled high school students to create and maintain their own blogs. Their feelings about the assignment are mixed: some are enthusiastic, others are dreading it. In an effort to encourage and inspire them, I've asked them to examine other blogs of their own choosing to determine what qualities they might like to emulate—or avoid. What purpose would they like their blogs to serve?

I've also provided them with a set of blogging resources—a small collection of videos, articles and brief tutorials to help them get started.

My next step is to work with the students to define the criteria they'll use to evaluate the design and content of their blogs (most likely, we'll create a variation of this Rubric for Evaluating Student Blogs by Karen Franker). I'll be asking them to comment on each other's blogs, too.

Yes, I've heard that "Blogging Is Dead" (from Fast Company), so there's a chance these students will abandon their blogs not long after they begin them. And, certainly, one could argue that there are too many bloggers out there already (as Jeff Goins acknowledges in "Bad Writing Is Essential to Good Blogging"—the 100+ comments in response to his post are interesting).  But honestly? I'm not expecting my students to achieve fame or fortune as bloggers.

People blog for many different reasons, often quite personal ones, and my students can decide for themselves what they want to learn about through their writing. They can pick and choose what they want to release to the public. Of one thing I'm sure: their blogs will be a more meaningful assessment of their writing skills than the dreaded SAT Writing Section ever was.

Self-Assessments: "How Am I Doing?"

Every year at the New Hampshire Homeschooling Coalition Spring Workshop, a handful of experienced homeschooling parents, serving as panelists, answer questions about homeschooling. The workshop typically begins with an overview of the NH Home Education law (RSA 193-A). Panelists are then asked about their personal experiences. Why did they choose to homeschool? How did they get started? Where do they find educational resources? How do they connect with other homeschoolers?

At some point in the middle of the workshop, there's one question that's always asked:

"What are your goals and how do you know you’re accomplishing enough?"

While (as a panelist), I realized this question was about educational goals, I couldn't answer without stating the obvious: my highest priority as a parent was my children's well-being. I wanted them to have fond memories of our time together, so I focused on how they learned—I adamantly refused to use a system of rewards and punishments to manipulate, coerce, or shame them into reaching academic milestones. If my kids didn't feel loved and respected and valued for who they were, no amount of accomplishment would ever make up for it.

If I'm honest, though, I have to admit: knowing whether we were accomplishing enough wasn't easy. Most of the time, I went through an informal process of trial and error. When my kids seemed bored, I tried to help them find more challenging work to do. If they were frustrated or stuck, I encouraged them to slow down and take things one step at a time. "Assessment" was generally something that happened dynamically and continuously as I had regular conversations with my children about how they were doing, what interested them, and where they were struggling.

More formally, I could see my kids were making progress when I helped them assemble their annual portfolios at the end of the year. Their portfolios included a written summary of the major milestones in their lives, photos, samples of work, programs from performances, and other evidence of what they'd done during the year. It was always obvious that they had accomplished much, but was it "enough"? How much was enough? That was difficult for me to evaluate without comparing what my kids had done to what other kids the same age were doing.

All of which leads me to these questions: What can an educator reasonably expect from a student? What should students—or lifelong learners—expect from themselves?

Getting the Most Out of an Education, and Documenting the Results

As someone who returned to graduate school relatively late in life, I knew exactly what I wanted from a master's degree program: a flexible schedule and course of study, faculty with relevant expertise, and challenging assignments. I was willing to pay for instruction and guidance, but only if I could get it on my own terms. The traditional model of faculty lectures and textbook exams wouldn't be enough for me. If I wanted lectures, I could find those online for free. I could also select and read textbooks without assistance. What I needed was "a guide on the side," someone who would respond to questions and push me harder than I would push myself.


In 2009, I enrolled in the online Master of Arts in Professional Writing program at New England College, and it has suited me well. Each course in the program has allowed me to tailor the assignments to suit my own interests and aptitudes while also encouraging me to try different writing styles and genres. The assignments have stretched me beyond the limits of what I would have done on my own, and I have received meaningful feedback from wise mentors. Now, as I work on my capstone project (an electronic portfolio), I have an opportunity to reflect on the program and present some of my work.


At the same time, I am also considering how homeschooled high school students might use electronic portfolios for personal assessments or formal evaluations. As someone who has been homeschooling my own children since 1997 and providing support for other homeschoolers for many years (see my website), I can imagine how electronic portfolios could be a valuable tool for homeschoolers.