We woke up in Detroit and said, "Good morning, eh?" to Canada. Not really, but it was interesting to consider that we were looking South -- to Canada. There is nothing interesting that I can say about Detroit that won't be completely lame compared to the insight and beauty and humor that you can find on the Sweet Juniper blog. (I do realize that by providing that link I just committed blogicide, as those of you reading will now spend your disposable blog-reading-time over there. I get it; you go with my blessing. If my own kids wanted to abdicate their current positions as the kids in our family to join that family I would understand.)
We drove by the Heidelberg Project. Quotes from the kids:
"I wish I got to help do this."
"That toilet says, 'Go' -- that is brilliant."
"Look there's Noah's Ark." (A boat piled with stuffed animals.)
"I wish I got to help do this."
"Is that a real tombstone?"
"Are those plastic lady's private parts art or decoration?"
"I wish I got to help do this."
On to Detroit Institute of Arts. It was absolutely beautiful, but The Dad had a million things on the agenda, so it was basically a big run to the Diego Rivera Court (one of his "favorite places") with me or the kids occasionally getting out of line and stopping to look at something amazing...
We did discuss the more obvious ideas, that man is, and technology is, and industry is motivating and brilliant, but just as we can create medicine to heal and protect, we also create gas that kills and maims. The guide talked to us about the plow blades (a symbol for "progress") in the picture with the baby: the plow is what helps us get nutrients from the earth, but in their proximity to the baby we also see how they can be a threat. My favorite part is a nativity scene -- there is a baby getting inoculated with three wise men (doctors/scientists) in the back, etc. Here is an example where I wished we had time to observe and come up with our own ideas. While it was cool when the guide pointed it out, I wish we had had the time to see if we would have turned on our own lightbulbs. It's a rush when you make a connection on your own.
And then SWOOSH! On to the Henry Ford museum. I know that there are different viewpoints regarding whether or not the experience here is weird in its inauthenticity (to take something from its context and plop it down next to other things taken out of context), or awesome. Just like I could spend a month there looking and reading everything, it will take me more than one rushed trip to come up with an opinion. Until then I will say that it was awesome to go past the "Teenager's room from 1987" and be able to point to the poster and say: "They're the one's that sing Route 66!"
And ten minutes later be sitting on the bus that Rosa Parks sat on and listening to a recording of her voice.
And then from the seat of a steam train have the boy muse on whether or not he should consider model trains as a hobby in addition to dreaming about chickens...
And then make a mold of Abraham Lincoln's head for $2...
The context on so much of this might have been lost, but good golly-golly it's an efficient way to expose yourself to history and ideas. I often shake my fists in the air when efficiency and convenience trump everything else... so again, I don't know... My values have taken a beating by the close proximity of the Wienermobile to a clip of Lucy eating the chocolates on the conveyer belt. The kids said that it was one of their favorite museums and they really want to go back and spend more time. Time. We ran out of it -- The Dad was shunting us back into the (non-American made) car so we could drive on to the Indiana Dunes National Lakeshore.
There is a farm there where a Swedish family lived, and it made me think that we need to read My Antonia this year -- In April. (It should always be read in April because of one of the perfect passages it contains about April.) I will have to omit the wolf scene though. And this is precisely what I was trying to say in an earlier post -- how are we developing our curriculum? It's just coming... I can't really say that you have to drive to Indiana and read about a Swedish farming family and then immediately realize that in April we will need to read My Antonia... It's just coming. If we keep moving, the plan for the future just keeps unfolding.
The dunes were crazy-fun to run down -- that exhilaration that comes when you're just barely on this side of being in control of your body. Down the dunes and towards the water while holding hands with your kid and watching your spouse running ahead and laughing while holding hands with your other laughing kid. Considering I've been gifted that moment I should never be snotty again...
With more reading, identifying, picture drawing, sand dune running and accessing whether or not the water would be fit to swim more Junior Ranger badges were earned. An added bonus were stickers from Michelle Obama given to kiddos who go on a hike.
