Shameless Netflix plug

I knew that Netflix would be a good resource for us as a family of homeschoolers, but what has surprised me is how our subscription has benefited us in some unexpected ways.

My parents gave us a gift subscription to Netflix a little over a year ago, for Christmas 2010. At the time, we'd been streaming the video series "Becoming Human" over the NOVA web site as part of a unit on human evolution, and my mind was filled with the potential for documentary films that could supplement our studies in other areas as well.

We've taken advantage of the huge video library Netflix has amassed for a number of subjects, borrowing "The Power of Song" on DVD for a muscian study of Pete Seeger, streaming video on different periods of history we've been studying, and watching PBS Home Video on the solar system as part of Oldest Daughter's research project on the solar system. It's even been a gateway for discovering culture, as the girls have seen classic movies, encountered famous playwrights through film adaptations of their work, and on and on.

But Netflix has another advantage, one that if management is smart, it will start actively promoting to homeschoolers: It allows you to stream some quality TV shows. In the midst of some shows that are simply great fun, like the "Dr. Who" revival; and other shows that we could all live happily without ever seeing, like "24" and "Wizards of Waverly Place," the Netflix video library includes some TV shows that are an English teacher's dream.

These are the shows that were written during the golden age of television, by writers who had grown up not watching TV, but filling in radio plays with their imagination, reading books, and sometimes attending theatrical productions. Every now and then, you'll catch a revival of their work, when an enterprising studio head acquires the right to reuse the title and concept of a show; and, if you look hard enough, you can find their actual shows broadcast at some obscure hour of the night.

These are shows like "The Outer Limits" and "The Twilight Zone."

We haven't watch "The Outer Limits" yet, but some time last year I decided to capture Oldest Daughter's imagination with an episode or two of Rod Serling's magnum opus. As expected, the show was a hit. To my delight, it proved to be a great springboard for discussion of literary techniques and styles.

As we've watched episodes together, I've paused them midway to introduce concepts of protagonist, and encouraged Oldest Daughter to identify not only the protagonist of the episode, but whether the struggle at the heart of the story was internal or external, or even an externalized internal conflict. From there she's learned to identify the climax of the story, and the denouement; and many times, even to predict how the plot will play out once the climax has been reached, and to explain how she knew it would go that way, complete with arguments from the story so far.

She's learned to identify literary motifs like deals with the Devil, the genie's wishes, cheating fate, and she's developed a keen sense of appreciating irony.

On one occasion, an episode of "The Twilight Zone" led her to write a killer essay critiquing a story and suggesting an alternate way the story could have gone that respected not only her own sensibilities, but also the integrity of the episode's characters and the general spirit of "The Twilight Zone."

The show has even been a gateway into an impromptu history lesson. "Dad," she once asked me, "why are there so many episodes about nuclear war?" One time she asked me about the network censorship that made direct treatments of such topics verboten; and on another, she expressed curiosity about the levels of paranoia shown among the characters. "Let's talk about the 1950s," I told her.

Watching these episodes together has been more than just a chance to enjoy high-quality televised dramas together. They have generated better discussions and writing assignments than I ever remember getting back in middle school or even high school, discussions and assignments that are driven largely by things that interest her.

So, it's been nearly 53 years since the show first aired, but I'm finding it's as strong now as it was then. A TV show that unsettles, haunts and educates. This could only be possible in the Twilight Zone.

But it's Netflix that got us there.

The Sound of Music

This month's composer study: Stephen Sondheim.


Oldest Daughter spent part of January growing in her familiarity with Andrew Lloyd Webber, the composer behind musicals such as "Jesus Christ Superstar" and "Phantom of the Opera." As we've brought more of his musicals into the house via our Netflix subscription, Oldest Daughter has lamented Eva Parone's untimely death with refrains of "Oh What a Circus," while Middle Daughter has given voice to Eva's naked ambition, a la "Eva, Beware of the City."


Even the 2-year-old has got into the spirit of the thing, singing "Don't Cry for Me, Argentina." This is all the result of a little calculated musical enrichment.

The older girls already are familiar with Sondheim, because of "Into the Woods," which DVD we've had the past five years. "Into the Woods" combines the fairy tales of Cinderella, Jack and the Beanstalk, Red Riding Hood, Rapunzel and an original tale about a baker and his wife; and takes the fairy tales from childhood into adulthood in the second act, when the giant's wife comes looking for Jack, who repaid her kindness by stealing from her husband and then killing him.

We're likely to watch "Into the Woods" again, and discuss some of its humanistic themes; but I expect our first trip down Sondheim Lane this month will be the Bette Midler production of "Gypsy," about the cuthroat world of show biz. (I love streaming video.)


The first Sondheim movie in our queue was the Tim Burton "Sweeney Todd." I can safely say, without fear of contradiction, that Beloved Wife and I found the movie to be absolutely hilarious. There is also no way in hell we are going to let the girls watch it for several years.


So, in its place, I've scheduled a viewing of "A Celebration at Carnegie Hall," which provides an overview of Sondheim's work, performed by a number of different singers. I especially like Glenn Close's "Send in the Clowns," and Victor Garber's "Ballad of Booth." A showcase like this provides a good overview of Sondheim's work overall, and may give us some ideas for other shows to explore.


At the moment, the other Sondheim musicals on our queue include "West Side Story" and "Sunday in the Park with George." We may also watch "A Little Night Music," though I'm still debating its merits, contentwise. There is no movie version of "Assassins" that I'm aware of, but we have soundtracks to both the original Broadway cast and the revival. She'll be listening to some of those tracks, at least.

So why treat Oldest Daughter to the music of Stephen Sondheim? I guess one answer would be that the fellow is just that good. He's won a Tony for lifetime achievement, and a Pulitzer and a number of Grammy awards for specific projects. The New York Times has called him the greatest person working in theater today.


His book for "Assassins" is a good example of his intelligence; it treats a complex and emotional subject -- people who want to kill the president of the United States -- and deals with it in a nuanced way. Sondheim gets us to laugh at buffoons like Charles J. Guiteau and Sara Jane Moore, and makes us see Andrew Zangara and Leon Czolgosz as the pathetic and angry men they were, but also lets us see John Wilkes Boothe the way he saw himself, so that by the end of the musical, audience members can't help but feel disturbed as they find themselves sympathizing with the asssassins and rooting for Lee Harvey Oswald.


The journey helps us to discover that the line between moral decency and reprehensible criminality is finer and easier to cross than we would like to think. The show makes us laugh, but it also makes us cringe at the monster in ourselves, which is the hallmark of good art.

Sondheim has written some great musicals, sometimes just the lyrics, sometimes just the music, but often both. By the end of the month, the goal is to hear a lot of his music around the house as well.

Chess club

One of the best e-mails I've received this school year was the one asking me if I'd be interested in running a chess club.

The letter came from S.J., a homeschooler who lives in Somerset County and whose daughter organized and taught an animal science class that Oldest Daughter attended last year. S. has a son a little younger than Oldest Daughter who also enjoys chess, and S. felt that hosting a chess club in her house would be a great way for him to get the practice and instruction it would take to improve his game.

It was an offer I couldn't refuse. I'd been looking into running a chess club at the local library, but aside from making arrangements with the library staff to reserve a room, I also would have to make arrangements for someone to watch Youngest Daughter, since it's difficult to provide chess instruction while minding a 2-year-old. With the offer S. was making, I not only would have a place for the club, I had an offer to watch Youngest Daughter while the club met.

Short of the hosting invitation coming from Winona Ryder herself, does it get any better than that?

Chess is widely regarded as conferring social and academic benefits upon children who play it regularly. Players are required to treat one another and the game itself with respect, to avoid disruptive behavior or even unncessary discussion, and instead to focus on the mental rigors of the game itself.

Played on an eight-by-eight square board with two armies of sixteen pieces each, the game requires a number of mental skills. Foremost among these are concentration and forethought. Players not only have to decide what their next move will be, they have to anticipate what their opponent's next move will be, at least one move in advance but better yet three or four.

New players often think it is enough to threaten an opponent's piece, but the truth is that to be effective, they must threaten two or more pieces simultaneously. When their own pieces are threatened, they have to weigh the value of each move, judging the values of their respective pieces, and also consider whether there are any counteroffensives that will put their opponent on the defensive, and thus saving their own pieces.

Research has shown that children who play chess show a statistically significant advantage over children who don't play chess, not only in math and science, but in terms of their overall psychocognitive development. This is all a growing process, one that takes place as children play chess over a prolonged period. In other words, in addition to all its other benefits, chess helps children to develop the satisfaction and self-esteem that come from sticking with someothing for the long haul.

I also can say that there is a tremendous measure of personal satisfaction once you reach the point that you can beat your father at chess over three consecutive nights. (Not to mention a corresponding level of humility when your daughter starts trouncing you,)

The chess club has been running for a month now, and I can honestly say that everyone who has come has been enjoying themselves. If anyone else wants to join us, we have room for about eight more players.

The club meets in Franklin Township, Somerset County, at 11 a.m. the first and third Fridays of each month. Generally speaking, children should be between 10 and 14 years old and should have their own chess sets. The main focus of the club is on playing the game, but inexperienced players will have the chance to learn the rules, and more experienced players will get to work on strategy.

Any questions, including requests for specifics on where to meet, please contact me.

Tour de Monarchs

The best school projects are always the ones that the students themselves initiate.

Oldest Daughter has for a couple years now evinced an ongoing fascination with England and the English way of doing things. This may have its origins in her discovery of her father's collection of 30-year-old Dr. Who novels from when he was her age. Alternately, it may have grown from her frequent voyages to Middle Earth courtesy of Professor Tolkien and "The Lord of the Rings." It's also possible it's just One of Those Things.

Regardless, I know a good thing when I see one. This past Christmas, I gave her a copy of "The Plantagenets: The Kings that Made Britain" as her own, to read.

Read it she has. In less than a month, she has read about kings from Henry II down through Henry V, and in that remarkable way that children have, she has kept track not only of major events like the Peasants Revolt and the Black Death, but has kept track of whose son was whose, which kings were good, and which were bad.

And that's all good, but like every other homeschooling parent, I want to make sure that she's not only reading, she's learning; and like every other homeschooling parent, I want her passion for learning in one area to fuel a passion for learning in other areas. Reading opens doorways to the past, but if those doors, once opened, don't also lead to adjoining chambers of music, art and even computer skills, I soon would feel that an opportunity had been missed.

So today, as we took a walk outside to get some fresh air and stretch our legs, we talked about what she can produce for her homeschooling portfolio, from this journey through English history.

The project:

• A series of index cards, one for each ruler of England, beginning with Henry II. Each card will include an original rendering either of the king, his chivalric crest, or an inhabited initial for his name; plus the name of the king, the years he reigned, and the two or three most remarkable thing about his reign.
• When the index cards are finished, Oldest Daughter will scan her images, and use them to create a PowerPoint that presentation with the pertinent information on the cards.
• Oldest Daughter also will create a video based on the PowerPoint presentation, accompanied by a rendition of  the British patriotic hymn "Jerusalem." For bonus points, she will add to the soundtrack the question "Did somebody say 'mattress' to Mr. Lambert?" followed by the rejoinder "Twice!"

Quite apart from the project, we're continuing to read plays and other literature about these kings. Oldest Daughter earlier this year read T.S. Elliot's "Murder in the Cathedral," and I'm hoping we can find some decent video adaptations of the appropriate Shakespeare plays detailing the Wars of the Roses, beginning with "Richard II" and ending with "Richard III."

So, if all goes according to plan, at the end of this course of study on the kings of England, she not only will have studied her history, she'll have exercised her art skills, learned and performed some music, and put her computer skills to use.

And perhaps best of all, she'll have done so with a nod to Monty Python.

Tabletop chemistry

I have a chemistry project running on my kitchen table that, despite their affectations of disinterest, is starting to intrigue my older two girls.

A couple months ago, I bought two rubber stoppers, some brewer's yeast, and two plastic airlocks at a local homebrewing store, and set about transmuting grape juice to wine, a noble alchemy celebrated by Spike Your Juice. At the time, the girls weren't very interested. The oldest daughter in particular was put off that I was, as near as she could tell, ruining a perfectly good bottle of Northland Cran-Grape juice by turning it into alcohol.

This time around, I have two bottles on the table: Welch's grape juice, and a store brand apple cider. This time, the girls are watching what's going on, and they're asking questions.

1. Why are the drinks bubbling?
2. Why did the apple juice start to foam first, but the grape juice foam more?
3. What's pushing some of the foam in the grape juice container climbing up into the airlock?

Oh, the science this ancient alchemy can teach us!

I'd already explained the last time through this, that the brewer's yeast is multiplying and feeding on the sugars in the grape juice. The yeast produces alcohol as a waste product, but it also produces carbon dioxide gas -- or, as Middle Daughter put it, the yeast is pooping and peeing into the juice. The drinks are bubbling, she recalled, because of the carbon dioxide.

And from that, she deduced the physics of the operation: The carbon dioxide had nowhere to go except up, and so up it went, through the stopper and into the airlock. When it reached the airlock, it filled the top bend, and then slowly, inexorably, began to be pushed down by the ongoing rush of other carbon dioxide gas produced as the fermentation process continues apace. And because the juice is full of bubbles, sometimes those bubbles are rising into the airlock, taking miniscule amounts of juice with them.

Not bad for a 9-year-old.

But why does the grape juice have more foam? The girls already understood that the yeast is feeding on the sugars in the juices, so Oldest Daughter speculated that there might be more sugar in the grape juice, which would mean the yeast is producing gas more quickly. She checked the nutrition labels and, sure enough, Welch's grape juice has 36 grams of sugar per serving, as opposed to the 28 grams in the apple cider.

I'll have to ask her later if she can think of a way to test her hypothesis.

And of course, there's the nature of the chemical change under way in the juice. Like most other living organisms, yeast requires food, oxygen and warmth to live; unlike many other organisms, it does not require the oxygen to be chemically unbonded. I explained it last time, though I really should see if the girls remember and understand how exactly this is working.

When I added the brewer's yeast on Wednesday, there already was a fair amount of oxygen dissolved in the juice. The yeast very quickly used this oxygen as it began to consume the sugar in the juice; and during this period, it produced no alcohol. Once that oxygen disappeared, the yeast switched from aerobic metabolic processes to anaerobic. It still consumed oxygen, but that oxygen was present in the sugars, chemically bonded to the hydrogen and carbon items that also comprise sugar molecules.

It's getting less energy from the sugar than before, since the yeast has to consume the oxygen after breaking the bonds between the oxygen and other atoms, but as a direct result, it's producing the alcohol that we want. Like the carbon dioxide, the alcohol is a waste product that eventually will make the juice too toxic for the yeast, just as our own environments eventually would become too toxic for us if we allowed them to fill up with our waste products. The difference is, we like the waste products of the yeast, and the girls' mother and I are looking forward to enjoying them when the yeast culture has run its course.

Physics, chemistry and biology. I wish all my hobbies were this educational, and that all homeschooling lessons could have so rewarding a conclusion.