Sonlight uses a lot of literature. I doubt it's a literal ton, but there could easily be a thousand pounds of books in Sonlight's Pre-K through High School Cores.

My mom, however, reads a ton of books. Literally. All this literature has given her the ability to guess plots. Most notably was this:

***Spoiler Alert for a 2004 film***

We sat down to watch The Village. The movie opens with a community meal. A crazed young man claps his hands and stares off wildly into the forest.

My mom, who doesn't watch thriller type films, looks over at me and says, "Oh, it's a world within a world story."

What!?! Come on! How could she know that?

***End spoiler***

My mom said that it was "obvious" because "directors like to show you things with subtle clues."

Uh-huh.

That very well may be the case. But the fact of the matter is that my mom knows so much story theory that she can pick up on the arch of a tale within the first few minutes of it starting. You don't get that kind of knowledge from studying literature theory. You don't gain those insights by reading textbooks on authorial intent. You don't pick up on those subtleties when you write an essay on symbolism.

No. You gain that skill by enjoying stories. You gain that skill by reading a ton. And, thankfully, Sonlight provides the first half of that ton in our homeschool programs.

 ~Luke Holzmann
Filmmaker, Writer, Surrogate Father

I love writing. I have since before I could write. One of the things I love the most about writing is that I am a genius. My prose and poetry is brilliant. I thoroughly enjoy going back and reading those things I've written that speak directly to the human condition, elicit long lost emotions and share insights into the darkest recesses of human knowledge.

But here's the catch: I hate listening to others read my stuff.

The luster is gone. My thoughts sound like inane babble. My gorgeous mastery of the English language is suddenly replaced with a hideous cacophony of poor sentence structure and pathetic reasoning. I'm an idiot. I should never write again.

Sometimes this reality strikes me when I revisit old passages and posts. I look upon a foreign text, something that could not possibly have flowed from my thoughtful and practiced fingers. I am disgusted. And then I wonder: Why do people read this stuff?

I've been revisiting some of my older posts.

For those of you who waded through those early days of blogging for Sonlight, I commend you! Thanks for swinging by and encouraging me. Your presence here spurred me onward to where I am today.

Today, though, I'm more wary of my writing. I read articles about how, if I were a good blogger, I'd write about you more than about me. I would ask questions more than make statements. My confidence shattered I wonder: Why does anyone read this blog?

Why do you read this blog? What makes you come back here again and again?

They--whoever "they" are--suggest that you be yourself on your blog. "Don't fake it," these nameless gurus say. And so I don't. I continue in my narcissistic outpouring of thoughts and experiences.

Is this one of the beautiful things of a good education--to love what we do and find pleasure in it?

I think so.

My parents let me explore my abilities, praised my efforts and continued to nudge me to hone my strengths. That, in turn, made learning a joy. And as we master things, the doing becomes fun as well. Which is likely why I love writing and find my words so insightful.

That's not to say that tears and correction are not a part of the struggle to master something. But I believe a slightly irrational belief in one's own brilliance is a boon to learning how to produce brilliant things.

Do you see that in your own children or in your life?

 ~Luke Holzmann
Filmmaker, Writer, Surrogate Father

He was tall, but thin. Hardly more than a 110 pounds. At just over 6 feet he resembled a twig. His giant XXL t-shirt only reinforced his skeletal form. The 80 pound backpack caused him to hunch.

He was headed to class.

A larger boy with a familiar face approached him. Something was wrong. The larger boy threw his shoulder into him, causing him to stumble against the wall.

'What?'

The other boy walked on. The skinny kid watched him go and wondered what his name was and why he was mad at him.

I doubt I'll ever know.

Bully

I hadn't thought of that experience in years, but it came back to me when I read Danielle's post on the difference between homeschooled and "traditionally" schooled kids. Why, she asks, do homeschooled kids behave better?

First, allow me to dispel a myth: I wasn't a little angel when homeschooled. I specifically remember dropping my sister on her face once when she made me angry. She must have forgiven me because she's never brought it up. That, or the memory got knocked out of her...

But even though we fought like siblings, we were pretty good kids. We worked hard. We enjoyed the Sonlight books. We poured our blood, sweat and tears--lots of tears--into our writing assignments. And while I was a little shy and awkward in groups, I never hip checked someone into a wall. That simply was not something you did to those outside your family. Your little brother when he was driving you crazy... sure, but not someone you hardly knew.

For whatever reason there is a different set of social rules in a "traditional" school. Picking on people is common. Making fun of others is socially acceptable. Physically assaulting another is just a fact of life.

Which is so very odd to those coming from the other world, the world where socialization has kicked in and constructive criticism, encouragement and mature behavior is expected of you even if you're still at the stage in life where the only recourse to your rage is throttling your punk little brother.

Second, I listened to my teachers. I played their game. I followed directions. And if I disagreed, I spun their demands back on them--completely complying without doing what they wanted.

Perhaps it was the freedom of homeschooling that opened me up to this possibility. I knew I needed to follow the rules, but that didn't mean that I needed to agree with them. And that didn't mean that I had to be silent about my disagreement. But those "in the system" don't always know that. At least for those kids--like the bully in hall--who didn't care much for school, the only offensive move was to tune out, drop out, opt out. Not so with me. The way to respond was to so perfectly adhere to the rules so as to show the insanity of them. There was always a creative solution to push back, if I only had enough energy and time to make it happen.

So are homeschoolers the well behaved bunch?

Yes and no.

There were days when I know I was an unholy terror for my mom (sorry, mom). I know for a fact I was a defiant little punk by the time I got to public school. But my defiance took a different form from that of my peers. Rather than based in an apathetic tuning out, mine was rooted in an indignation at the frivolous nature of my work or assignment. So I became more engaged. I put more effort into my work. I dug even deeper.

That may be a sign of maturity. But at the moment I think the difference is taking personal responsibility and doing what you can to overcome the obstacle.

Homeschooling taught me that I had options. It was my responsibility to learn. It was up to me to set things right. And that didn't happen when I picked on others. It happened when I took things head on.

 ~Luke Holzmann
Filmmaker, Writer, Surrogate Father

My mom asked me to create a link for her to the Sonlight Rewards Program.

Great idea!

I created the graphic, added it to my blog, sent her the code and thought, 'If my mom wants this for her blog, perhaps others out there want it too.'

So I added a badge for Sonlight Rewards to the Widgets page. Here's the super cool thing: If you are logged into your Sonlight Account while on the Widgets page, your Rewards ID code is automatically included in the HTML.

Say what?

Log into your Sonlight account. Copy the Rewards badge HTML. Add it to your blog/website. A visitor who clicks on it will automatically be brought to the friendly "create an account to save money" page. And if he or she creates an account then, you'll earn points on his or her first purchase.

So cool!

Unfortunately, Facebook does not let you use HTML on your Facebook page.

But wait!

There is something on the Widgets page for you, faithful Facebook fans! That's right: New Flair, now with the twenty-ten logo.

Huzzah!

 ~Luke Holzmann
Filmmaker, Writer, Surrogate Father

Yesterday I linked to a fantastic article on popularity. In his article, Paul Graham argues--among other things--that high school has no real purpose; the stated goal of "educating" is little more than a farce except in the instance of the few shining examples of truly great teachers.

That certainly rang true for me. Attending a public high school wasn't about learning. In fact, I readily told everyone at the time that if I had really wanted to learn something, I would have stayed home.

No, I had another reason to be at my public high school: Ministry. I was there to change the world.

Granted, as I alluded to yesterday, I was involved in tons of extra curricular activities as well. I believe I "lettered" officially 19 times. I gave myself two non-official letters I deserved but was not awarded. I fully understand the draw that wood shop, band, sports, theater, clubs and school publications offer. But those are secondary. Education tertiary. My primary reason for going to school was to stretch my wings as a minster of the Gospel.

And I had a blast. I really enjoyed high school.

But my younger sister did not. We overlapped by two years, and I can still remember her clinging to me and crying right before I graduated. She was about to be alone in a pointless world without a friendly soul to turn to.

She still talks about her horrible experiences and the waste of those years.

My wife, on the other hand, was homeschooled through high school. We met in college. She's bright, well educated and--in many ways--better adjusted than I.

My point is this: There are excellent and worthy reasons to attend high school. But I would caution against those reasons which are of the academic nature. You absolutely can homeschool your children through high school. You need not worry about the larnin' of yer students.

And if you're just beginning your homeschool journey, remember:

Sonlight offers homeschool programs from pre-school through high school.

We've got your covered.

 ~Luke Holzmann
Filmmaker, Writer, Surrogate Father