Mom taught me Earth with a buttermilk pancake. “We’re about right here,” she said, pointing just off-center of the middle. Dad taught me birds with a helium balloon. “It’s filled with flying gas.”
—- Michelle Ross, How I Learned About Evolution
My bicycle locked up to the TRex in Exposition Park, Dallas, Texas
We didn’t home school our kids. One reason (among many, I admit) is that we always thought that the public schools – especially in our ‘hood – needed our kids.
Read it here:
from Okay Donkey
Michelle Ross Webpage
“Tarts and tadpoles!…The boy is still alive!”
—-L. Frank Baum, Rinkitink in Oz
Tadpole Pool, Dallas Arboretum
There are few things as fascinating as tadpoles in a jar.
The tail slowly shrinks as the legs – back first, then front – appear and grow.
Does the tadpole understand what is going on? It must be frightening… to wake up in the morning (do tadpoles sleep? do they dream wet tadpole dreams?) only to find fresh, unknown appendages growing out of their body. They have a wonderful fish-like life – their precious gills – until they turn into lungs. Do they understand how they are following the evolution of their ancestors?
Of course they don’t.
Do they imagine what might come next? Do they dream of growing wings? A tadpole, like everyone, must dream of flight. What a blow it must be when they realize that they are stuck with their legs, no matter how muscular and sinewy they feel and how high and graceful their leap.