A glimpse into the family of our sixth grade teacher, Mrs. Hansen, who classically educated her children:
You get in the car and see Odyssey on the floor. You assume that you left your copy of the story of Odysseus lying about, only to find that someone has taken the car manual out of glove box for your Honda “Odyssey” minivan.
Your family affectionately calls your ugly brown van “Joanie,” after the patron saint of Orleans: Joan of Arc.
Your seven-year-old buys a birthday card for another second-grade student that makes a pun about Plato and Play-doh and thinks it’s hilarious. The birthday boy, after receiving the card, thinks it’s hysterical because he too is classically educated.
Most of your family jokes center around literary references, sprinkled with Latin phrases.
Your ten-year-old child wants a “global warming party” (I am not making this up). Part of the party fun is busting a world-shaped piñata (that your seventh-grader made in world geography, and that you conveniently kept in the attic for six years: don’t judge me). One of the other classically educated partygoers puts the world pinata on their shoulders and proclaims they are “Atlas” (of the Greek myth fame). Everyone at this party gets the joke because they too are classically educated.
While exploring Storybook World in another state, your five-year-old grandson, runs up to hickory dickory dock the clock that is actually a slide, sees the mouse, and proclaims: “Argh,the Black Death, flee!” The cousins are confused.
Your junior high child tells you which logical fallacies you are using while you are trying to give reasons why they can’t do something.
Your high schooler decides it’s time to tell the world why Ayn Rand is a terrible writer by writing his own satirical version of Atlas Shrugged, which, mercifully, is hundreds of pages shorter. (He happens to be the same child who planned the global warming party. I am not making this up, either.)
Your high school daughter comes to you concerned for your position in the classical Christian community because, without your knowledge, your seven-year-old has started a “cult.”
Daughter: “Mom, did you know that Nathan has started a cult and is recruiting members? You need to do something or you will have parents coming after you.”
Me (slightly alarmed): “What?”
Daughter: “Yes, he has a theology, defined religious roles, and even hand signs and sayings.”
On investigation, you find that said son was only applying his knowledge of Bible history and integrating it with his history education. You recall that the Bible curriculum for this year is Old Testament prophets and the history of the Middle Ages. Your son has appointed one friend “prophet,” one friend “priest,” and he has appointed himself “king.” On further investigation and spying on conversation with his friends, you discover that the new “religion” has a nefarious plot for world domination and control. You are not concerned because he exclaims, “Mom, we are just pretending.”
Make Your Own Classical Memories
Interested in making your own classical education family memories? Schedule a tour and join The Cor Deo School family for the 2018-19 school year.