Just for fun

My poor blog has been mostly dormant for the last few years because I’ve been in the apprenticeship program offered through CiRCE Institute. It’s a fantastic program and I highly recommend it, but it is tough—three years of reading hard books, learning to teach mimetically, and writing essays with the Lost Tools of Writing curriculum. Our last assignment was to write a Socratic dialogue, and I thought I’d share mine here, just for a change of pace.

If you’re not familiar with the format, the Socratic dialogue, it’s a little drama that consists of two characters, the Socrates figure and the Interlocutor, discussing some idea or statement, trying to come to an agreement. The Socrates character asks the Interlocutor questions to define ambiguous terms, expose false premises or logical fallacies, or to point out absurd or unjust consequences. Sometimes they come to an agreement, but not always.

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    The young woman took the roasting pan out of the oven, transferred the meat to a board, poured the stock into a jar, then set the pan on the stovetop and turned the fire up. Taking a wooden spoon in one hand, she added flour to the pan with the other, and mixed it into the roasted vegetables and fat that had been left behind. She—let us call her Hestia—took a special delight in cooking porchetta, a dish she had grown up watching and helping her mother and grandmother make, but this was her first time doing it on her own, and she didn’t want anything to go wrong.
    So studiously was she attending to her fire and food that she didn’t notice the young man enter the kitchen, the westering sun setting his mischievous face aglow, nor did she hear the old dog under the window thump its tail in pleasure as its master entered the room. The man stole up behind his bride, wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face in her neck, eliciting a squeal of . . . was it delight? or vexation? In either case, she lost hold of her spoon as he—we’ll call him Dionysus, shall we?—spun her about the room. At last he set her down and she recovered her spoon . . . and her dignity.

Hestia: Let me alone now. I have to finish this sauce.

Dionysus: Ooh, what is it? Alfredo?

Hestia: No, silly, it’s a gravy for the porchetta.

Dionysus: But you could put Alfredo on it—Alfredo’s the best!

Hestia: You’re funny! Alfredo’s the best on pasta, but pan-dripping gravy is the best on meat. But don’t worry. I made Fettuccini Alfredo just for you, because I know you love it. Now—mmph . . .  Stop it! I need to focus! Okay, where was I? Um, oh! Can you get the wine glasses down for me?

Dionysus: Which ones? These?

Hestia: Yes, thanks! So, have you made up your mind yet?

Dionysus: Made up my mind? About the glasses?

Hestia: No, silly. The Joneses will be here soon and we need to have an answer for them.

Dionysus: Oh, that.

Hestia: Yes, “that.” Well?

Dionysus: Well, I don’t know what you want a cat for anyway. Dogs are so much better than cats.

Hestia: Don’t be silly. Anyway it’s a kitten. It won’t be any trouble at all.

Dionysus: Don’t laugh, I’m serious. Dogs are better than cats. Here, watch this: Rex, here boy. Good boy! Sit. Lie down. Sit up. Shake hands. Good boy. Now go home. Good boy, Rex. That’ll do. See that?

Hestia: Yes.

Dionysus. Well, there you are!

Hestia: And . . . ?

Dionysus: I mean, what cat would do all that?

Hestia: What does that have to do with anything?

Dionysus: What does that—? Everything! I’m serious. Look, what will a cat do for you? It won’t look after you or comfort you, it won’t play with you, and it certainly won’t love and obey you.

Hestia: Heh. One wonders what you wanted a wife for. Mmph—stop! I’m supposed to be doing something here. My gravy! Oh, good, it didn’t burn. Hand me that jar, please. Thanks. But still, your only objection to a cat seems to be that it isn’t a dog.

Dionysus: Well, of course.

Hestia: So, basically, you’re just saying that you like dogs better than cats.

Dionysus: Well, of course—because they’re better than cats.

Hestia: But “better” at what? “Better” in what way?

Teaching manners to children, 3: Earliest stages

As I mentioned in my last post, because I believe in the power of seeing various examples, I’m going to be writing about what my own family did. No family is perfect, least of all mine, and no family will be facing exactly the same circumstances yours is, but still, it’s always helpful when trying to wrap your mind around a dauntingly huge idea to see it incarnated in various ways.

Part 1: Definitions
Part 2: Basic principles

Part 3: Before I started thinking about formal training

My first child was an extraordinarily easy child in this department. If you know anything about Myers-Briggs stuff, she’s an ISTP: Introverted Thinking, Extroverted Sensing. As is typical of babies of this type, she reached all of the developmental milestones way ahead of schedule, had fantastic fine motor skills, and was very independent.

When she was an infant, if she happened to be awake during a meal, I’d lay her on a blanket nearby so she could move around to her heart’s content, but still be close enough that I could keep an eye on her. That really only lasted about three months though, because she always wanted to be up where she could see whatever was happening. She was able to sit up on her own when she was three months old, so at mealtime I started putting her in her swing, which was located where she could see most of what went on in our little, open-plan apartment.

By the time she was ten months old, Eldest Daughter was sitting at the table with us and quietly feeding herself her own bits of food, one pea at a time. If she ever made messes, I don’t remember it. She was quiet and happily occupied herself, so mealtimes were pretty effortless. Mostly, Mike and I chatted, and I’d keep an eye on her to make sure she actually got enough to eat. She was very patient, but she tired of feeding herself before she’d eaten enough to last more than an hour, so I’d casually offer her a spoonful of food every once in a while. After the meal I’d give her a bottle to make sure she was adequately cuddled and filled. (She quit nursing when she was six months old—I’m pretty sure my milk production was inadequate, but that’s another topic.)

 When #1 Son came along, I would put his baby seat on the table with us at mealtime, if he wasn’t napping then. It was important to me that he be part of our family culture, especially meals, from the earliest possible days. Looking back on it, maybe this made mealtime pleasant for the children, because they were there with us enjoying fellowship long before meals became something where correct behavior was expected of them.

For this reason I believe that there’s no such thing as a child being too young to begin training in manners and courtesy. It begins by your example long before they’re capable of anything but enjoying being with you.

Eldest Daughter was nineteen months old by then, and mealtime training wasn’t much more than trying to get her in the habit of putting her sippy cup down above her plate, so that it was well away from the edge of the table. This is an example of beginning with the end in mind. Sure, it wouldn’t be terrible if she accidentally knocked her sippy cup onto the floor, but I wanted to start early teaching her a habit that would allow her to use a grown-up cup without needing to learn new table habits.

If she forgot, I would either remind her where it belonged or move it there myself without comment, because at that stage the only rule I had was that I did NOT want there to be Issues surrounding mealtimes. But if you think about it, that was a rule for myself rather than for my children.

I want to address what I mean by “Issues surrounding mealtimes,” but I’m going to save that for the next post. First I need to say something about atmosphere, because I think this is crucial. 

My husband’s work schedule was pretty crazy in those early years. He’d work the day shift (6:00am-2:00pm) for four days, have two days off, then work the swing shift (2:00-10:00pm) for four days, have two off, then go back to the day shift, all year long, including weekends and holidays. Every once in a while he’d have to work the midnight shift.

Because Mike’s shifts were so crazy, I worked hard to have a stable routine at home. I’m a firm believer that the home is meant to be a sanctuary, and a sanctuary must be peaceful, and for there to be peace, there must be order. I’m also a lover of comfort and beauty, so I don’t mean for my emphasis on order to imply that I ran a militarily regimented household.

Believe me, it was nothing like that!

I just mean that for my own peace of mind I needed to have regular mealtimes and bedtimes, regular times for running errands and being home, regular times for chores, stories, and playing.

This turned out to be a profound blessing in raising children, because as it happens, children also desperately need this kind of predictable, peaceful environment.

So everything that I’m saying about how I did things happened in this context of peace and comfort.

This is so important that if you’re struggling with your children’s mealtime behavior, I’d encourage you to take a hard look at the rest of their day. Is it characterized by peace or by chaos? If it’s the latter, your task is going to be far more difficult than simply teaching your children to listen when the grown-ups are speaking, say please and thank you, and not make messes with their food.

To be continued . . .

Notes on reading The Faerie Queene the second time

When writing an essay, it’s common to arrange your Proof section first (that’s the body of the essay), then you work out your Conclusion, then you decide on your Introduction, including the Exordium, which is supposed to raise the reader’s interest and give him a clue as to the content of the essay.

While reading The Iliad this school year, I noticed that Book I serves as the Exordium for the whole work. The events in that book foreshadow the events of the whole story. Then I began noticing that the first few lines of each book serve as the exordium for that book. There’s a fractal pattern to the whole work.

When the kids and reread Book I of FQ last month, I suddenly realized that Cantos 2-6 foreshadow what is going to happen in Books 2-6. I also noticed that Canto 1 is an exordium for the whole of Book I, and the first few stanzas of each canto are the exordium of that canto.

Now we’re in Book II, and I’m seeing the same pattern. We just finished Canto 6, and Sir Guyon is able to disengage himself from a bad woman while maintaining a courteous demeanor. Guess what? Book VI is the story of Sir Calidore, the knight of courtesy.

Illustration by A.G. Walker in
Stories from The Faerie Queene, by Mary Macleod

This work is genius, y’all. You need to read it. More than once, too.

Teaching manners to children, 2: Basic principles

“Instruction without imitation is ineffective.”
~ Rev. Lee Gandiya
In his sermon Sunday, my pastor was preaching on the ascension of Christ, and he reminded us that Jesus did not just leave his disciples with commandments to obey, but with an example to follow. Imitation is going to be a crucial theme in this series, so don’t be surprised if I harp on it. ;-)

Last week I discussed definitions of some words I’ll be using.

Today I want to address Basic Principles.

1. Begin with the end in mind. You need to have a clear mental image of what good table manners look like so you know where to begin, and so you can tell if you’re making progress. With this in mind, do NOT encourage behavior in young children that you would have to correct in an older one.

I’m not talking about punishment here. I just mean don’t laugh and take pictures and act pleased when your ten-month-old smashes his peas and uses them as finger paint. Yes, I know it’s adorable and you want to encourage a spirit of creativity and exploration. But the dinner table isn’t the appropriate place for that, so for now just don’t call attention to the activity—he’s not doing it to please you anyway, but to satisfy his own curiosity. You’ll need to defer your excitement until a more appropriate opportunity to express it arises.

2. Knowing etiquette helps us know how to be courteous, so courtesy is the higher thing. On rare occasion you may have to set aside etiquette for the sake of courtesy, but you should never set aside courtesy for the sake of keeping rules.

3. You have to model good manners yourself. We are created in the image of God, so we are by nature imitators. Christ calls us to imitate him, and we parents need to do the same for our children.



Application

If your children are older and have developed bad habits, don’t worry about where they “should be.” Just start where they are and move forward.

You do need to take responsibility for the way you’ve raised them so far, so if you haven’t taught them well, or you’ve been a bad role model, don’t blame them for it. But don’t beat yourself up either. Just acknowledge to yourself and to God that you’ve fallen short in this area, then move on.

Here are some questions to ask yourself: What is my vision for my family? How do I define good manners? What things am I already doing well? What is one step I can take that will make mealtimes more pleasant?

I’d love to hear your answers, if you feel comfortable sharing in the comments.

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In my next few posts I’m going to describe what meals looked like at different points in our family life, beginning when my oldest children were quite young, before I started thinking about teaching table manners in a more deliberate fashion. This is not so that you can see the One True Method of training your own children, because that doesn’t exist. But since we learn by imitation, it’s good to have examples of how it worked for particular families. I’d encourage you to look for families you admire in your own community as well, so you have several different models to draw on.

Teaching manners to children, part 1

 A couple of weeks ago I was asked to blog a bit on teaching manners to children, specifically table manners. This is such a large topic that, well . . . . You see how long it has taken me to get my thoughts in presentable order. Actually, to keep from succumbing to the perfectionist demon, this is going to wind up being a series of sorts. I’ll add to it as I’m able to and as interest in this conversation warrants it.

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First, definitions!

When we’re talking about something like table manners for children, there are lots of terms we might use that are related but don’t mean exactly the same thing. Is etiquette the same thing as manners? Are manners and courtesy the same?

I’m going to begin with Courtesy, because I think it’s the larger idea. In this context, I’m going to use courtesy to include politeness, good manners, and respect, with the overall goal of treating one another the way we ought to treat fellow bearers of the image of God. Courtesy is a demeanor and an attitude as much as an action or set of actions. In this sense, courtesy is a virtue that people in all times and places must strive to embody.

Manners are the actions we take in relation to the people we’re with and circumstances we’re in. Good manners are things we do that display the virtue of courtesy—practical ways of treating other people with respect, humility, and good humor. It is important to remember that what is considered good manners varies from one culture and even one sub-culture to another.

Etiquette is a formal or customary code that describes correct behavior in various social and business settings, and is specific to those settings. What I mean is that proper etiquette at a wedding is not necessarily the same as proper etiquette at a beach party. Proper wording of a text message is not the same as proper wording of a business letter, and neither is the same as an email to a friend.

Another word you might see around is Protocol, which is a formal set of procedures. I don’t use it often, and might not use it at all in this series, because it mostly refers to diplomacy and treaties and matters of state. When I do use it at home, it’s in an almost medical or technological sense. I have protocols for handling raw meat and fresh produce. When we had dairy goats, I had strict protocols for handling the milk because we drank it raw and I wanted to be sure it was clean.

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Now, something practical.

Because manners and etiquette are necessarily tied to culture, spend the next few days noticing what is considered good manners in your own community, including the families you and your spouse were raised in. 

There are two reasons for doing this. One is so that you can be sure that you and your kids aren’t accidentally coming off as rude when you’re at church or grandmother’s house. The other is so that you can identify differences between your community’s and your own expectations, and begin thinking about how to handle that.

Your turn!

What do you think of these definitions?

Would you alter or add to anything I’ve said here?

I haven’t even mentioned decorum, propriety, civility, and others that came to mind after I finished this. Should we talk about those ideas?

What questions do you have?