It's been 3 weeks since David Albert graced us with his words of wisdom at the Washington Times, at which time I bought this book, thinking it might be instructive.

Last night, I picked it up as my "read myself to sleep material."  I can usually read a few minutes to a few hours before dropping off.  This time, I read nearly the entire book.

The books is a collection of essays of various lengths.  Some might seem only vaguely connected to the idea of learning, such as one nostalgic valentine to playing stickball in the streets of New York City, and comparing it to the overly structured experience of Little League and organized team sports.

Others read like historical investigative journalism, and elicit some strong emotional responses--at least from me.  Make no mistake: David Albert is what my Catholic School nun teacher would have called "a dangerous revolutionary."  Yes, this soup-kitchen-volunteering Quaker is definitely incendiary.  After reading this book, you may find yourself reconsidering political affiliations, questioning holiday practices, and thinking very differently about some of the basic assumptions of education that even we homeschoolers may have swallowed whole.

Albert doesn't merely talk about education...he truly goes on the voyage himself, and takes us along for the ride, like a chatty ship's captain narrating the journey as we sail into heavy weather.

The reader has the impression of sailing into what one thinks of as a well-known port, only to have Albert reveal things about it that suddenly make it new and different.  Hate math?  After reading his chapter on exploring the beauty of it, you may find yourself itching to return to math from a new perspective.  Love a certain textbook or curriculum?  Finding out the "untold truths" about some of our most cherished academic ideas may have you wondering if independent exploration might be more productive. 

It seems there is no idol too sacred for Albert to pick up the skirts and check for clay feet.  He cheerfully admits to the mis-representations of America's history, the failures of those credited with patriotic or religious innovation, and the existence of inequities and injustices up until today that we ourselves may be perpetrating even as we engage in socially conscious acts and charitable giving. 

By far the most revealing part of the book is his foray into the origins of poverty for African Americans.  If you can make it through that chapter without having a half-dozen former assumptions exploded, congratulations.  I had already figured out a few of the things he has researched and reveals the solid basis for, but he opened new vistas for me, for which I am grateful--and newly humbled.  Bravo.

Yet, there is no rancor in all of this.  Even as he exposes something ugly or unrighteous, he seems to say "Okay, but now that we know this, how can we do better?"  It's a gentle process of stripping away blinders, but at the same time, offering some vision-correcting spectacles. 

I'm not a big advocate of "buy this book," mentality.  Most of the time, I eschew purchasing books, because the library lets me read them for free, and usually one reading is plenty.  But in this case, I must say, I am so happy I own this book, because I will be returning to it again and again, and probably lending it out many times myself.

Okay, if you'd like to find out more about the book--and David Albert's other works--please check his website: www.skylarksings.com.  (Evidently, there are electronic versions of the books to be downloaded directly, saving you the time and shipping for the printed version.)

And thanks to Jacqui Kubin and the Washington Times for introducing Albert to us all.

• 
• Comment