World War 2 Study: DIY Propaganda Posters

Other than our trip to Pearl Harbor or the live-action trench warfare from our preparatory study of World War 1, I'm reasonably confident that making their own propaganda posters has been both children's favorite activity of our World War 2 unit study.

We began, of course, with a discussion of propaganda, and the viewing of other propaganda materials--Google Image is a great one for this. Note together, as you go through the propaganda, the overarching themes, themes such as self-denial on the home front being equated with bravery on the battlefront, or the tendency to animalize the enemy, or the portrayal of the victimization of women and children as the likely consequence for one's failure. This is a great time to discuss what racism does to a society, as racism is rife in propaganda posters.

After we had defined propaganda, and analyzed propaganda, I really wanted the children to create their own propaganda. Luckily, I didn't have to completely invent that activity--here is an incredibly cool online program that allows you to do just that! You choose from a selection of existing World War 2 posters, delete the text, and write your own:

Fangirl is one of my current favorite novels. I am currently waiting VERY impatiently for my turn in the library hold queue for its follow-up, Carry on.

The kids LOVED this activity! I had planned on asking them to each create a couple of posters, so that they could get the general idea of constructing propaganda, but they both spent most of the evening on this, making a poster, asking for a parent to read/admire/laugh at their effort, and then repeating the entire process again, to great happiness and hilarity.

On the whole, Syd's efforts remained sincere and focused on my original prompt, although their creation still brought her great pleasure. They were freaking adorable, as well, and showed excellent understanding of how propaganda works, as well as how to rewrite a slogan in her own words. Alas, she worked on the oft-wonky children's computer, and if she saved them, I can't figure out where she put them. The ether, undoubtedly, or someone's email inbox whose name is one letter off from my own, perhaps. Maybe she'll make me some more sometime, if I ask her nicely.

Will's posters, now... Well... Do you ever read my words about this feral, willful, impossible child and wonder what she's like when she's not stubbornly refusing to do her math, or put on pants, or look up from her book? If so, I can assure you. 

THIS is exactly what she's like:

It's meant to continue with "local crime board," I believe. The text box only supports a certain number of characters, and both children sometimes struggled with that.

Some of her posters were just random funniness, of course, but, as both her history and her rhetoric instructor, I also noted a pleasing mix of humor made from unpacking the connotation of a piece of propaganda and rending it overt, and the use of irreverence to replace the usual sincerity that propaganda pretends, again highlighting propaganda's inherent half-truths.

The following piece, however, hit my funny bone so hard that I laughed for minutes. I cried. Hell, I practically peed myself! I still crack up about it (get it? Crack?), and every now and then, when we're someplace where we're supposed to be serious, like in the line at the bank or waiting for a concert to start, I'll lean over and whisper the following slogan softly into her ear:

Here is the follow-up campaign:


Seriously, I can't even. It's too funny.

One of the worrisome benefits of homeschooling is that it gives you a nearly unopposed license to espouse your own worldview to your children. I find it unfortunate that this is so often used to espouse worldviews that I personally don't approve of--Creationism, for example, or the Young Earth myth--but I feel that I must tell you that one of the main points that I emphasized in this lesson is that we must be watchful for propaganda in our daily lives, and we must be highly suspicious of any organization that uses it for any reason. Product manufacturers, of course, but also our military. Also our government. I instruct my children that whenever we recognize a piece of propaganda, we must ask ourselves, "Why are they trying to manipulate us? What are they not telling us?"

And now you need never wonder why my feral, impossible, willful child is also prone to making off-the-cuff belligerent political rants. She comes by it honestly, at least.

If you're interested in also raising children who are prone to political rants, embarrassingly often in public, here are most of the other resources that we used and enjoyed during this unit on World War 2 propaganda. I highly suggest that you preview, in its entirety, every single item before you give it to your children, and even then permit them to explore it only with you there to provide context and discuss its moral and ethical concerns--I also used only isolated excerpts of many of these items, and many aren't suitable for younger kids at all:

World War 2 propaganda poster examples

Hawaii with Kids: The Pacific Aviation Museum in Oahu

The Pacific Aviation Museum isn't a must-see in Oahu, certainly not like Pearl Harbor is, but if, while at Pearl Harbor, your kid gets super into World War 2 aircraft, which is certainly a possibility, or if they're already into flying and aircraft of all types, as Will is, then it's worth a visit.

It's hard to visualize the scope of the aircraft that were involved in World War 2. This, for instance, is a Japanese Zero, the type of plane that attacked Pearl Harbor. I was highly impressed by its aerodynamic engineering, and the machine gun on the nose that's timed to avoid shooting the plane's propellers: 

Models of the different types of Japanese torpedoes used in the Pearl Harbor attacks. Notice the wooden fins on the big one!

Between here and Pearl Harbor, we saw many different types of illustrations, models, and graphic organizers that explained the attack. The variety really improved everyone's understanding.

Inset in the floor is a diagram of the attack. You can follow the path of the Japanese planes to their various targets. Stomping upon the targets is tacky, but it does illustrate whole-body learning!

This is the B25b Mitchell, the type of aircraft used in the Doolittle Raid.

This is the actual wreckage of the Zero that ended up on Ni'ihau. I find this incident fascinating, as it's basically the reason why the US was so paranoid about Japanese-Americans. What they were so afraid of? It really happened here!

This is the Grumman F4F-3 Wildcat, a type of fighter used during World War 2.

Here's another fighter, a Curtiss P-40E Warhawk.

F-111C Aardvark

Will REALLY wants to learn to fly. She was excited to see this Cessna, as this is what she'll one day learn on.

We bought neither of these items in the gift shop.

Anti-aircraft guns!!!

Mind you, this was an excellent addition to our World War 2 study, and Will, especially, really loved it, but it did take over half a day away from our limited time in Oahu--we didn't make it to either the Punchbowl or Diamond Head, sigh. For that reason, I skipped the other two World War 2-era museums on this campus--one on the submarine, and one on the battleship. Seriously, we could have spent our entire time in Oahu in World War 2 museums! Next time...

And that's our entire trip to Hawaii! Feel free to be relieved that I'm finally going to stop telling you all about it every single day. Instead, I'll just continue to reference it as often as possible!

Some Decoupaged Blocks for Christmas

I had so much fun making this decoupaged building block tutorial for Crafting a Green World--

--that I made way more than a single human family actually needs. I keep telling myself that I'm attempting to avoid being a hoarder, so into my pumpkin+bear etsy shop my beautiful building blocks must go!

I separated them into sets of three--one red, one green, and one of vintage sheet music. I thought that this seemed suitably festive!

I LOVE that my kiddos help me with my work. Will set up nearly every single display for this photo shoot:

And no, taking too many photos is NOT considered hoarding... I think?

The Children's Museum, and the Children's First Formal Interview

I've mentioned before that we're regular guests of the Paleo Lab in the Children's Museum of Indianapolis, volunteering to clean and prepare some of the less complicated, less scientifically important fossils in their collections so that the paleontologists and more skilled volunteers can have more time to work on the superb pieces.

See, here we are doing that just last month!

Thanks to one of the paleontologists, I finally have a photo of ME here! See, I can work on fossils, too!

 

One of the paleontologists suggested, however, that we might enjoy volunteering with the Children's Museum in a more formal capacity, and after researching it, I agreed. I'm always on the lookout for meaningful volunteer opportunities for the children, ones in which they're treated respectfully, given important work, and allowed to take ownership of what they're doing. From what I've seen at the Children's Museum, everywhere from inside the museum galleries to out in South Dakota at a dinosaur dig, that is exactly how those at the Children's Museum treat children.

This also applies, apparently to the application process! Of course the application process for volunteering in a children's museum is rigorous, including references--I haven't had to ask for references since I was 21 years old, I don't think!--and it also includes a formal group interview. On the appointed day, the children and I headed up to the museum, met with two other applicants and the volunteer coordinator, and sat down together for a real, live interview.

I wasn't sure how involved the children would be in this interview, so I brought colored pencils and blank paper for them (actually, I bring those items everywhere, and use them often, both with my own kids and the misbehaving children of total strangers) to keep them occupied while the adults talked.

In truth, however, the children were VERY involved, with interview questions all their own! The interviewer mostly asked them about their favorite things in the museum, what they liked to do in their free time, etc., but still, the children were required not only to talk with the interviewer, but to do so in front of the other applicants.

It. Was. Wonderful!

You know that I'm all about real-world experiences such as this, and I was over the moon at this opportunity for the children to stretch their social skills. And, of course, it was all very casual and friendly, because the interviewer knew how to speak to children to draw them out. The younger kid was more reluctant, giving short answers and not really wanting to elaborate, but she did draw pictures with the materials that I'd provided, and then show them to everyone to be admired, so it remained a positive experience for her, I think.

The older kid, however? I was shocked. I know that she's a great big kid of eleven now, but in my heart she's often still that five-year-old child who had never spoken willingly to an outside adult in her life, who had the same two teachers for three entire years at Montessori and NEVER spoke to them without a good and urgent reason, who, when asked a direct question by a friendly adult, would simply stare at them, pretending as hard as she could that whatever was happening was sure as hell not happening in her world.

Um, this kid? I'll be damned, but she was charming! She told everyone all about her desire to be a pilot, then lightly bickered with me about the appropriate age to start flying lessons. I raved about the family dino dig, then handed it over to her to tell about the pachycephalosaurus tooth that she'd discovered, and she happily told the tale. As she spoke about digging for dinosaur fossils, one of the other applicants asked her about the type of dinosaur that was there, she explained that it's the edmontosaurus, the applicant asked what that looks like, and so she got up and turned away from the table, showing the back of the dinosaur dig T-shirt that she happened to be wearing, which INCLUDES A DIAGRAM OF THE EDMONTOSAURUS.

It was so cute.

There isn't actually currently an "official" opening for volunteers in the Paleo Prep lab (so keep mum about what we've been doing for the past two years!), but both children were VERY enthusiastic about volunteering in the Dinosphere gallery, and so that's where we've been tentatively placed for our six-week trial run, to begin sometime next month.

Here's to new opportunities!

We actually had to book it back to town for ballet class afterwards, but obviously not before playing just a *little* bit in the museum:

I swear, this museum never gets old for these kids.

P.S. Want to follow along with my craft projects, books I'm reading, road trips to weird old cemeteries, looming mid-life crisis, and other various adventures on the daily? Find me on my Craft Knife Facebook page!

The Girl Scout Junior Independence Badge: Bicycle Maintenance and Repair

I know I tell you all the time that I love Girl Scouts, and that it's revolutionized our homeschooling.

I say it so often because it's true.

I loved Girl Scouts when the children were Juliettes and we did all of our badge work independently, but I love it even more now, as part of a troop of enthusiastic kids and their parents who are just as dedicated as I am to providing these engaging and enriching experiences.

As most of us are homeschoolers, our troop also trends toward the non-traditional. The children are expected to do much of their badge work, again, independently, under the mentorship of their parents, but we also meet together at least monthly, co-op-style, to complete a badge activity that works better as a group, or go on a field trip or service project, or just hold a regular meeting at a kid's request.

This particular field trip was inspired by the Girl Scout Junior Independence badge, which Sydney is working on. Their badge work is generally a mix of kid-led and adult-led activities--they choose the badge because they're inspired by one or two of the activities, and those are the ones they're usually eager to complete all on their own. I step in to guide the activities that they're less eager to complete, and as their mentor I also reserve the right to also ask them to complete activities that I think will be valuable experiences for them. With the Independence badge, Syd was very interested in the fashion design components (of course!), the sewing and home organization, and, weirdly, the bad habit-breaking. I, then, am teaching both children how to completely do the laundry from start to finish this week (they can fill the washer, switch over laundry, and put away clean clothes, of course, but know nothing about sorting or water temperature, etc.), I asked Matt to teach them how to hang things on the walls (Matt and I have always had areas of expertise AND complicated walls, and he's the one who holds all the information on complicated wall-hanging. I'm the one who knows how to change the oil in the lawnmower), and I'm tentatively planning an entire Girl Scout meeting around button-sewing (first teaching the children how to sew on a button, then having them switch out the buttons on an item that they've brought from home--I'm sure their parents will be THRILLED).

Syd was also interested in the bicycle repair and maintenance activity for this badge. Now, I know exactly as much about bicycle repair and maintenance as she does, but what I DO know is the name of an acquaintance who volunteers with a local non-profit, the Bloomington Community Bike Project. When I contacted her, she generously put me in touch with the woman in charge, who VERY generously set up our entire Girl Scout troop with a workshop!

These women showed up early on a Saturday morning to teach all the kids how to change the tires on their bicycles and oil their chains. And then?

The kids changed the tires on their bicycles and oiled their chains!

Can you even imagine? Eight little kids in the hands of three experts, who somehow managed to give each child the individual attention that let each kid take her bike tire completely apart and put it completely together again, handling all the resultant catastrophes. One kid punctured his inner tube, one kid's inner tube was adhered to the wheel, one kid had hand brakes to detach, one kid's rim was rusted. Each kid learned how to take the tire off of her bike, how to deflate her tires, how to lever off the tire, how to remove the tube, how to check that tube for punctures, how to put it all back together again, how to reinflate her tire (and how much to reinflate it!), and how to reassemble her bicycle.

Afterwards, the children wheeled their bicycles out to our cross-town walking/biking trail that's next door to the bike shop, and they gleefully rode up and down the trail, careening past people attempting to go to and from the farmer's market, absolutely delighted at what they'd accomplished.

It was a wonderful workshop.

While we were there, we also learned that both kids have managed to grow out of their bicycles this summer.We can pass Will's down to Syd, but for Will, I think we're going to do something different. She's tall enough now for an adult bicycle, and the Community Bike Project has an Earn-a-Bike program. You volunteer three hours with them, and then you are given all the gently-used parts and all the expert guidance that you need to BUILD yourself a bicycle.

Don't you think that sounds like the perfect parent/big kid winter project?

The 2015 Homeschool History Fair: Two World Wars (and Two Tantrums)

The homeschool history fair was an excellent culminating project for our World War 2 unit study. It let me know that each child had the background knowledge to scaffold an independent research project in the field of study, and it allowed the children to stretch their skills in essay composition and visual presentation. It's also fun for the kids, as it lets them focus on something from the study that genuinely interests them--for Syd, the trench warfare from our preparatory study of World War 1, and for Will, the tank battle known as the Battle of Kursk.

Every time there's an academic fair, I seem to rework the requirements that I set for the children. For this history fair, I asked them to prepare a written research paper (that they would then read during their oral presentation), a tri-fold visual display, and a model.

The models both went in interesting directions. Will put together her first plastic model kit, a Panzer tank:

It didn't come out perfectly, of course, and she elected not to paint it to look more realistic, but nevertheless, for her this was an excellent effort. The model's instructions were VERY obtuse, and it had its fair share of fiddly bits.

Syd elected to make a model of a World War 1 trench in LEGOs. I should have supervised her work more carefully, as her finished model didn't seem to reflect a good understanding of what a trench would have looked like--bonus points for including a LEGO rat, but the trench was very wide, for one thing. I did require her to revise her model, and we both ended up reasonably pleased with her second attempt. If I'd been more involved, I would have encouraged her to build a model of the trench warfare system as a whole, with the machine gun posts, the support trenches, the communication trenches--the works! But for a fourth-grader working independently while I met some writing deadlines in the next room, her revised model demonstrated sufficient knowledge of the subject, so I called it good and sent her outside to play.

We'll study World War 1 again one day, after all. We'll make more detailed models then.

Syd's tri-fold display, on the other hand, was excellent. She included a storyboard of photos from our LARP trench warfare, and that turned out to be quite a fan favorite:

She also wrote a comic book of World War 1 jokes. I've got to find wherever that landed after the history fair and get her to dictate captions to me, because the comic strips that she wrote are pretty great--things like a soldier in the trenches getting bombed several times, but then he gets a paper cut and THAT makes him say "Ow!"

World War 1 humor. Never gets old.

Usually, I permit the children to dictate their essays to me (see my "How to Write an Essay" essay here), as I differentiate rhetoric from mechanics, but Will surprised me by actually writing the second half of her essay herself:

It was a tricky essay, too--I had no background knowledge of the Battle of Kursk, and battles are always full of lots of "this unit went here, while that unit went there, then they did this, and then that," so Will would attempt to interpret this information and put it in her essay, and then she'd read it to me and I'd tell her what I didn't understand. And then she'd go back and try to make it clearer. Repeat ad infinitum.

Neither kid looks forward to their oral presentations, which in my book is all the more reason to make them do them. I am firmly of the opinion that repeating a hard situation desensitizes you, and if you're nervous about getting up in front of people and speaking, well, then you'd better get up in front of people and speak until it is no longer any kind of big deal.

Believe me. In high school I would actually sometimes get a facial tick right before I had to get up and speak--and the last thing that a nervous person needs before they get up to speak is a FACIAL TICK!!! I still wasn't super chill with public speaking in college, but you know what I did after college?

Yeah, I was a substitute teacher. Loads of off-the-cuff public speaking there, often to a hostile audience, to boot.

And then I went to grad school, and taught some more. All the freaking time I was teaching. I still sometimes wince at the stupid shit that came out of my mouth sometimes (and still does), but who cares?

No. Big. Deal.

That's what we're going for, with forced participation in academic fairs and spelling bees and plays and performances. They'll thank me one day, I'm sure, and even if they don't, I won't care, because I'll have adorable videos such as this one:

I can see Syd's nervousness broadcast on her face, and hear it in her voice, but she did a wonderful job. She even recited "In Flanders Fields," although I don't think it was clear that she'd memorized it, as she kept glancing down at her paper in terror.

But afterwards, this is her face, after a job very well done:

Will actually did manage to distill the Battle of Kursk down into a more comprehensible summary, although up to this presentation, and then beginning again directly afterwards, she behaved like the rottenest rotten child who ever behaved rottenly. The history fair took place in the public library, you see. Just outside of this conference room and down the hall are all the books. And was Will being permitted to leave that conference room, go down that hall, and glory in those books?

No. No, she was not.

Hence Monster Child of the Rude Behavior. She refused to sit with the tons of other children and listen to the presentations. Instead, she wandered around, sometimes even behind the presentation area so that everyone could see her actively misbehaving. Mind you, in my homeschooling circle there is a wide range of behavior tolerated, because in a good homeschool group we operate on a strict "live and let live" policy, so really nobody was bothered but me and Matt. I'll mildly quell any misbehaving child in my own personal reach, whether they're mine or no, but this particular child of mine deliberately stayed out of my reach.

It actually took me a few tries to call her over when it was her turn to present, and then she spent a goodly bit of time acting as if she just had no idea where her written report could possibly have gotten to (it was on the table next to her), but eventually she got her act together and gave us this:

Could you hear Syd having her own little tantrum during the presentation? She was sitting on Matt's lap, and he had the gall to put an arm on her shoulder to stop her from leaning forward in front of my camera while I was videotaping Will. From the outraged whispers he was met with, you'd think he'd just told her that he was going to smack her with a stick.

Ah, my two sweet tweens!

You'll be pleased to know that all the other children were just adorable. I was the organizer of this particular fair, and it was my pleasure to help the children get set up, then introduce each one for their turn. After each presentation--some confident, some shaky, one in song--I looked each kid in their eyes and told each one that they'd done an excellent job.

And even though I said the exact same thing to each kid (you never want to say something different to each kid, because something that you say might be better than something else that you say, and kids notice that), I'm hoping that they knew that I meant it equally sincerely every single time, because every single kid always looked pleased, and smiled at me, and thanked me, before sitting down and listening to the next kid's excellent presentation.

It was the best history fair that I've ever been to.