Homeschooling

Always Learning Something

/ Marlo / 2 Comments

What is the big deal? The big deal is that I have completed 6 classes towards my teacher certification. Both boys are in public school now and yes, I even started a teaching job three weeks ago. I have one more class and the Praxis test and then I will be finished. This past week I finished my final exams for my art classes at Tunxis Community College here in CT. Little did I know that when I signed up for these classes I would find the thing that makes me sing, the artistic impulse that has been tucked away for a very long time. I know I am a good student and I was in “student” mode. On our first day we had to write a note to our selves and the professor gave them back to us this week before our critiques. I had forgotten about the note. Reading my note addressed to myself, I was filled with awe. I wished myself “Lucky” success as if that “y” was an astrick of glitter or sparkle or fairy dust that would grant my wishes. I suppose it was a spelling error, no matter, to my surprise I did a what I set out to do!

While I was home schooling our kids, raising our kids all my creative energy went into that. I am a very good multitasker but my creative flow concerning my art, well it was not flowing.

While attending classes, of course I saw myself as a student. Not sure why I feel the need to compartmentalize but being artist and being student where not mutual, not one in the same. I went into my art classes as a student not as an artist. However, my artist self appeared and is here to stay.

Part of this certification process allowed me to take classes in my area of interest. Art classes – YEAH! I wanted in person, not on line, something practical like Electronic Drawing and Painting and something new to me, Illustration. The way I felt about my decision was my willingness to be super open and ready for a challenge, learn something new, just jump in. A prerequisite for these classes was drawing 2. In my undergraduate experience I had taken 6 drawing classes, I think that qualified me. But I had to have a discussion with the enrollment person to verify this… slightly annoying to me. I bring this up to say that after I started to produce work for my assignments and I shared with my peers, friends, family they also forgot that I DO have this experience or ability. Maybe I forgot too.

My life is busier than it has ever been and I somehow found the time to focus, be in art flow, leave my work area…aka dining room table and leave it a mess, spend 5 minutes working, go do life and then come back. I was switching hats, artist, mom, student, wife, friend and back again. I MISSED this so much. The assignments from both classes were every bit of a lot and a little of all of what I needed. My professor, Jackie Decker, was amazing, joyful and was the perfect cure to my missing artist.

I know time and perspective have a lot to do with perception but my youthful art making days were filled with dark, intense, questioning, and provocative artwork all of which I loved. I was even a snob about pretty things, I was anti sweet and beautiful things. We joked about it, I still have a prickly edge going on today but nothing like the past. I didn’t mean to and as you can see below, that edge is still there. But is different now.

Wasteland Warrior
Emperor Tamarin as Samurai
Aloe Vera-fruit, flower, veggie portrait

I bring all this up to say that not only did I tap into my flow and get into my creative groove but I also found a way into making art that is sweet, and yes, beautiful. I have experienced so much trauma in my life, I deserve to be able to make art that is free of that. In our first critique in the illustration class, I was expecting what I was familiar with- harsh, critical and even brutal. Please do not get me wrong. I thrived on that, like give it to me because I want my work to be the best. However, that is not how this professor works. She moved and spoke from a place of joy and sweetness and she uplifted her students, and more importantly -ME.

All excuses aside I showed up to my final for electronic drawing and painting with what I consider unfinished work. I have an idea that has been in my heart for a few years now and I have not been able to translate it to paper. I decided to attempt the ideas for my final. It took me a while to “just do it”. With starting a new job and the kids’ baseball and life there really wasn’t much time to “finish it”. And without getting caught up in all the art speak, my unfinished pieces were in fact perfectly finished. After hearing the responses from my classmates and my professor I was filled with such emotion I wanted to cry. Not unusual for me but it is a truth. Pure joy – wow.

The details of my ideas are not a surprise to my family and friends. I have been wanting to write and illustrate a children’s book but I was not happy with my ideas. They were not illustrating a feeling that I wanted to portray. However, I never imagined that by the end of my semester class I would be closer to my goal … and well, I am! I have set my summer plans in motion. 20-30 illustrations ? Agent finding me a publisher? Publisher saying yes?

Rio Bakes Cakes. I am a boy and I bake cakes. I made these images in Procreate.

My boys inspire me in so many ways. The baking experience brought joy to our whole family. We learned to love deserts and we even became aficionados, aka desert snobs. This story is about that joy of learning, living, loving and just being. I thank my boys everyday for what they have taught me. Through my art classes this semester I was able to find my way. I am forever grateful. A book is in the works.

Homeschool 2012-2020

/ Marlo / 2 Comments

Trigger warning…for me. I registered my 14 year old, Rio for public high school. While filling out the form I was brought right back to his first year of Kindergarten, where it all started.

Río at his Kindergarten graduation. Happy kid.

The summer before kindergarten when I registered Rio, I proudly filled out the questions that asked if he spoke another language with the answer yes. When asked if we wanted the paperwork that goes home to be in English and Spanish, I said yes. When asked what language he spoke at home I answered English and Spanish. This is true, he is bilingual since the birth of his words. And there folks, is when it all began, the crumble of what I thought Kindergarten/school should be and what it actually was.

By some law here in CT to protect children, my son was tested in his first week of school because I checked a box that said he spoke another language at home. Harmless right? Well there began what I considered the problem. He failed the test, and then was taken out of his classroom for extra help, daily. None of this I knew until 1.5 months into school. Principal also said to me that most kindergarteners would fail the test. And there I was in the principal’s office crying. Could I say then what I was crying about, no, but I knew deep down something was not right.

Rio wearing his favorite shirt to our first NYC performance, STOMP. This is the shirt he was asked to remove while in school because it was considered inappropriate.

I want to preface all of this with “desire” and “need” to homeschool. We desired to homeschool but our reality would not permit that. I was employed full time at Miss Porter’s School, an all girls boarding school in CT and our family lived on campus and for the most part I liked my job and loved my students. Rio attended the local public school with all of his daycare peers, also my peer families of my employment. Our desire to homeschool was dreamy, like we will spend our winters in Dominican Republic. However, I never thought what happened to Rio at school would drive me to quit me job and decide to homeschool my kids. And in the end it was a need. By February I told my head of school I was not returning, after 14 years of employment, my beautiful, talented and amazing students who kept me returning year after year, nothing was going to stop me and our new family plan. I made a dramatic decision, even revolutionary. It changed our lives forever.

Coincidentally Rio’s entrance into high school is during a Pandemic, Covid-19 and Black Lives Matter movements, so we are raw, sensitive and I am looking at and reviewing things with the eyes of a hawk. The registration form again asks the exact same questions and I quickly find myself going back and changing my answers. All so that he will fit the norm of what is versus the reality of our home life- bilingual. How can we be proud, recognized as normal and human all at once? What I learned that year from Rio’s school even in 2011 is that he was sized up and judged before he even had a chance. I guess I was braver than the generation before me that refused to teach its children to speak Spanish, me and all my cousins the result of 100% assimilation caused by racism.

Rio Fernandez Bilingual, Father from Dominican Republic, Mother half white and half Puerto Rican

It didn’t matter that I was employed at one of the most prestigious schools, it didn’t matter that Rio actually spoke English and spent his whole little life in an English speaking daycare, it didn’t matter that he too was a loved child in his daycare and he was given the stamp of approval- ready for Kindergarten. None of it mattered, thankfully his self esteem was not destroyed that year. As I worked in all girls education I learned about what works for girls and what works for boys, also what doesn’t. What had alarmed me and had me in the principal’s office when his teacher had no time for me was the simple fact that he was being removed from the classroom daily to get reading help. Many said, come on, what is the problem? He is getting help where when he needs it.

My issue was, I didn’t want him removed from the classroom. Everything I had read said it would cause future problems, especially with self esteem and that was my major cause of concern. Here are a few negative things I remember about that year.

  • Teaching kindergarten at second grade level, too rigorous for a 5/6 year old
  • Removed from the classroom daily, seen by peers as different or less than, humiliation
  • Being asked to change his “inappropriate” shirt, humiliation
  • Being asked to stop singing an “inappropriate” song in front of his classmates, humiliation
  • Asked to read and saying a word incorrectly, laughed at by his group, humiliation
  • Not feeling supported by his teacher, abandoned
Spring baseball, happy. This was during his Kindergarten year.

Some of these points could be seen as part of life and growing up, I get that, but all bundled together weighed heavy on him and us. In late fall of that year he was playing with a group of friends right after school and they all fell to the ground together and he fractured his arm. That winter while we were in Dominican Republic, 6 weeks after the initial fracture, he slipped and fell and broke it in the exact same spot. The Dominican doctor angry asked us why he didn’t have a cast on him. Me, horrified as they, the doctors here in USA, said he didn’t need a cast. Río had a removable plastic cast and they said after 6 weeks he could remove it when not playing. It was a freak accident, he slipped on a wet floor. A lot happened to Rio in 4 months at 5 years old. It wasn’t even January yet.

Dominican doctor, “kids are monkeys, we always put a cast on them”. Our doctor here in USA, broke a sweat when cutting of the “thick” Dominican cast.

When looking back on this time with both boys, homeschooling and all of it, I would not change my decision. New to homeschool moms and dads, grandparents and guardians you will get to know the real you and the real them during this time- be ready to have every single thing you thought to be true questioned, turned over and possibly thrown right back in your face. And the truth is I am flexible, go with the flow and a spontaneous person. All of this did not matter. Two independent, stubborn and non conforming, self starter adults expected their children to be conforming, easy and submissive- not.

The image on the bottom is summer time before Kindergarten, the other two images are from the fall after Rio’s first year of Kindergarten. It is hard to not read into the drawings. That fall was very difficult too as we changed everything, we moved houses, towns and no more school or old friends.

Everyone wants to know why now, why on earth would you send your kid to public school now? Simple, he wants to go. We have been looking into attending school and prepping for freshman year for the last two years. He is an athlete among other things and wants to participate in seasonal sports. Connecticut laws do not allow homeschoolers to participate. There were other paths but we have arrived at this moment. If we wait this year out in terms of thinking of health, we are propagating fear. Masks are in our present and future.

Rio’s baseball season in the summer of 2020

Perspective

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Adoni enjoying Grand Canyon.

It has been a year since we traveled to Arizona, a birthday wish of mine. I said “mine”. My family wanted to go. They were super excited about doing something we have never done before. But truth and reality certainly out way my romanticized view of this beautiful place. A photographer and artist at heart, even a naturalist, I have lived through an artist’s perspective of this place. However, I want to talk about my son’s experience.

Adoni’s notes after we returned from Arizona.
He did have a good time but chose to focus on the hard parts for him to digest. I did the little sketch. That is his handwriting.
May, 2019.

This week, when I asked Adoni to remember our trip and some of his favorite parts he said he didn’t have any good memories. His most profound memory was about the pain he felt. We were told by the tour guide about the number of people who died in the previous of months. It was shocking. This statement put the fear of God in all of us but mostly my husband. I will not throw my husband under the bus right now and blame him. However, I will say his love and desire to keep our wildest child safe hindered Adoni’s experience in Adoni’s mind. Adoni still can’t formulate a full intellectual response, but he said “you guys wouldn’t let me see anything, you embarrassed me”. He can detail the exact moment and movements that lead up to Luis’ fight or flight response to Adoni’s actions.

Last day of our trip, Sedona, Arizona

As I am the one homeschooling the kids and Luis is out bringing in the income, I am the one who is adventurous, leading the kids out in nature. What I don’t get about Luis’ fears and concerns with Adoni is that Luis grew up a free and wild child himself. My guess is that he had the village always looking out. We don’t have the village. Either way I have allowed Adoni to explore in a way that pushed me, heightening my own fears. This gave him freedom to grow emotionally and physically, to learn boundaries. That trust was missing while we were in Arizona. Factor in the fact that we haven’t traveled as a family to unknown places. This was a huge learning experience for Luis- HUGE.

I put these pictures together to show Adoni. There were moments of joy for Adoni. I don’t have many photos of him with the group as he choose to stay solo.

I shared his notes with him. He smiled and thought about these moments. He had forgotten and he said so. He admitted that his best memories were being with his cousins.

Freedom to Run and Roam

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In this current moment of quarantine we are having more movie nights. I convinced the family to watch Stand By Me. At first they had too much to say about how it is old, and who cares and all the typical kid stuff, and not enough guns for Luis. Soon after the movie started they became invested, the characters were relatable.

Screen shot from Stand by Me

‘Stand by Me’ at 30: Why This Stephen King Movie Is Timeless

Adoni at the railroad tracks here in our town.

In 2020 and all the way back to the days my kids were born, a kid’s freedom to run and roam is long gone. This movie gives glimpses into the life my boys love. Maybe today in USA if a kid lives on a farm or near woods they are lucky. Some would even call this a crisis of this generation, kid do not have freedom to roam. The picture above with Adoni was taken by me but the meeting happened by accident. He told me he was riding his bike down in an area of town that has been closed off for people to get exercise during quarantine. He didn’t exactly lie but on his way home he went exploring. I had decided to go for a walk and there he was. He was riding his bike on a route I walked a million times when I was a kid, the train tracks. He wanted to show his friend (with social distancing in mind), the route to my grandmother’s old house. This was a bold move on his part. He screamed to me, “hey I was getting my phone out to call you” yeah right.

Adoni and I went back to explore. He has a mask on.

My boys know my story about my own cross with death near these tracks. Maybe in a different post I will write about my story.

Adoni and his cousins in mountains of Dominican Republic. Over the course of a month they collected thousands of coquito nuts, organized, donated for dulce, cracked and ate and most importantly played a game where they won and lost them. The game is similar to marbles. In order to play they have to remove the outer shell.
This is a few years old, but a favorite photograph of mine shot in Dominican Republic. Rio, cousin Angelo and Adoni in the back.

Rio and Adoni are lucky because we live two lives in two different countries and there are different freedoms in each country. Their age now is giving them more freedom, living on a dead end street and homeschooling also give them some freedom. But in the Dominican, mountains and family and climate have created a vast place to explore to be a kid and create a stories, ones that might even be a story line for a movie.

And Poof… It Is Over

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It is not a magic thing, but it all happened so fast it felt like magic. Will there be a grand ending? We know the answer will not have any magic. I am writing this post to officially say goodbye to the people we didn’t have a real chance to say goodbye to. We just up and left- like radical. Although most of the boys will never even see the post I am writing it anyway for closure.

We left the Dominican 6 days ago and I feel like I have a hole inside. Rio maybe feels something but he is so 14, in his mind, he is elsewhere. Me, I am stuck with all these faces and relationships that we were building with coaches, trainers, trainees, baseball loving youth, apartment mates, new friends and some family who live in the city of Santo Domingo.

Rio catching.

In the photo above, Ramon Delgado, the trainer and Pedro his assistant along with the boys watch Rio. So about 25 days with these guys, one can’t deny a relationship forming. We intended to be in DR for 3 months or more.

Genaro, an American Dominican kid training like Rio and Rio.

Remember when I had said Rio hadn’t even seen the ocean. That weekend with Genaro he had gone to a dance party for kids, then next day they went to a private club by the ocean. So yes he did in fact see the ocean before we left.

Rio as catcher and Pedro giving advice.

Our roommates, Katy and her helper Altagracia, helped us figure out the city. Katy helped me learn how to be on my toes and be safe. Our cousin Mariel helped us too. I was looking forward to being able to say that I lived in the city, and we survived! It has been many years since I had a roommate and certainly a new experience for Rio.

Alta and Katy.

And with this I say goodbye, con Dios. I really hope that we will see everyone again. The latest I have read about COVID-19 is that we will be looking at months-many months before we even see something called normal again. There is no magic in that.

Rio arriving at practice with a kid who shows up every morning just to hang out and get things for people if needed. Sweet kid.

Hard week, soul searching.

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Can a 14 year old go deep, know his reasons for doing things, feel passionate? How do we as his parents help keep him motivated and do the thing he said he wants to do? Is it really our job? How do we help him to not throw in the towel because this thing called baseball training is super hard? And let me remind you we are on a tropical island a couple of blocks away from the ocean. He hasn’t even seen it yet since our arrival 3 weeks ago.

We have a cousin who is one of Rio’s biggest fans, his name is Checo, he is in his 40’s. He is pretty persistent with his feelings about Rio and baseball. This is what he said, in Spanish of course but I will translate. Rio is tall, elegant and beautiful. He has the capacity to play baseball therefore he should play. Not everyone has that opportunity or is gifted the ability. Rio is loved by everyone here in Los Dajaos, DR ( where Rio’s dad is from) and Rio loves everyone back. His ability to love the children here is felt by everyone. Checo said a reason for Rio to play, his motivation should be to give something back to the community of Los Dajaos, do it for the children.

Rio in 2017 playing with one of our cousins.

All in all, my thoughts over the course of this week can’t be jotted down in a blog and maybe should be left right where they are- in my head. Rio said he had a tough week but in the end he is happy. We slept in today and went to the gym. He is currently playing Fortnite online with his brother in USA. Rio will finish his weekend by hanging out with a new friend tonight, a Dominican American kid who is here doing the same thing as Rio.

When the going gets tough, the tough get going.

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This title is what came to mind this morning. Last night Rio said he wanted to go home. We went away for the weekend to be with family. It was a 4 hour ride from door to door, there and back. Rio is a home body, he definitely does not have my lust for adventure. So even though we had a mini vacation from our new life, it was a distraction. As we have been homeschooling for awhile now and as we have 3 boys, finding the balance between freedom and military academy is where we are at.

Our daily routine, walk 8 minutes from door to metro.

This “thing”, I knew it would come, just a matter of when. After he said “I want to go home”, I wasn’t sure how to respond. I know it is an ever fleeting feeling, “home”. But I am his mom and this was my response, “the newness and excitement of being here is over, now comes the hard part”. He said nothing. When we got in bed, we are sharing a room with twin beds, I asked him if he wanted to talk, he said nothing.

These are a few sweet moments of the kids laughing- this morning before practice.

He woke up a lot last night- me, trying not to worry, kept those feelings to myself. This morning he got ready like regular. We went to practice and all seemed regular. The feelings of last night dissipated. What was different about today is that he earned something. Three weeks in and he is hitting the ball and one of the trainers commented, he asked me if I was happy with Rio’s new swing. Rio is trainable. Imagine a pitch that he is used to, maybe 60 miles an hour. Now during his practice the kids are pitching 80 miles and up. He is learning how to see that ball, it has been a challenge for him.

The swing.

As we are so in sync as a family, it is no surprise to me the Adoni started acting up yesterday. I asked Luis if he had eaten too much sugar. But the reality is 3 weeks into our new life is a challenge for us. Luis signed Adoni up for kickboxing training at Acension gym. He can go 5 days a week if he wants. Hopefully this will help Adoni stay focused and not feel out of control. Adoni was free roaming in Dominican Republic, running for 1.5 months, every day, all day. He needs some grounding right now.

Adoni’s first day at the gym- Kickboxing training.

This place is huge!

/ Marlo

We are in week 2 of m-f training here at Estadio Olímpico. This place is huge! Rio and I both got lost yesterday. He was in one place with the trainer and the other kids, and I was in another place. I decided to take a seat on a bench near a guy who was getting a full body massage on a table, on the sidewalk. I do not have a picture of that, imagine that open air massage. I choose that spot as I thought of safety and sort of close to where I thought Rio was. I eventually did find him, he was running in the track and field area. But then I lost him again, so I decided to stay put. We are in communication via the app What’s app. So no worries, but back to the point this place is huge and it is primarily a guy’s world here.

My view every morning

While sitting on the bench, a wee one also sitting, maybe 2 or 3 years old, started crying. He is the son of the massage therapist? Three young men were walking by and in typical Dominican fashion, one young man started talking to the little kid in the sweet, con cariño, way that everyone here talks to little people, or anybody for that matter. The three young men sat down between me and the little kid. And so began the conversation with these two.

Ferdy and Wilfry

In that moment I felt a bit off because I was not in sight of my son. That feeling dissipated after I started talking to these guys. They are training for the Olympics in track and field. I am not sure how old they are. Wilfry runs 800 meters and Ferdy 400. I enjoyed our conversation as I always enjoy meeting new people. I think you know this by now. I am and feel vulnerable as I am in the huge new place basically with all men. And these kids are vulnerable as they are young and ready to take on the world- naive? When I say vulnerable I don’t mean crippled with fear. Who wouldn’t be vulnerable in a new place, mostly men and in a country speaking a different language? Equally who wouldn’t be vulnerable chasing dreams at a young age. There is power and vulnerability in both those positions. Outside of meeting up in the same place we, me and these 2 guys, have nothing in common. They asked me if I was an athlete. Ha. Well, I trained for a marathon twice, that is called giving birth naturally. But no I am not an athlete.

Inspirational

I wasn’t 100% myself yesterday, my day started with a highly caffeinated coffee. It has been months since I had a coffee like that. So I did not think with a photo/documentary mind and didn’t take a picture of the guys. I was so angry with myself. Today in an effort to find them and take their picture because I want to remember them, I found these two running the track. Awesome and inspirational. To my surprise the boys found me! They wanted to say hi. Which this moment had me dancing inside with joy. Simple things in life can make me happy. I am trying to not cry as I write this.

In another blog post I want to talk about where and with who my photographic career started. My heart has always had a sweet spot for boys and it took me years to understand why.

Baseball, Dominican Style

/ Marlo / 2 Comments

Rio wants to learn with the best. Can you blame him? So yes, very swiftly, we made a decision to move half our family to Santo Domingo which will allow Rio to train 5 days a week. The opportunity presented itself and he grabbed it. We are supporting it. The privilege of homeschooling allowed us to make this decision.
Are there good trainers in the USA, of course. There are two things I want to list here for you to think about, money and happiness.
Money is needed to train and to play, here, there and everywhere. There is no baseball guide that will show us how to get from point A to point B. We are not part of a “club” either. The point is we were spending money running in circles, which left none of us feeling good. We, the parents and children have met good people along the way, don’t get me wrong. However, what ever it is that we have been looking for concerning the kids and baseball seemed to be out of reach.
You know when you feel good and you just know when something is right? It that happiness? Well the day we decided to meet some trainers here in DR, we went to the fields, I felt it- happiness. Most importantly Rio felt it. The kids were on the field playing their hardest but with joy. That is contagious. Can you blame him for wanting to be a part of that?
We brought up our kids bicultural and bilingual. They may look like gringos, but their hearts are here in DR – happiness.

The day we found baseball happiness.