Now, where are my plimsolls?

Garrett is reading!

He likes it, too. Everyday he brings home a stage one book from school which he's to read to us. We don't have to ask him -- he's excited about this new skill. And proud of himself (as he should be!).

Riverside School is based on the British National Curriculum, and it's been interesting to note how it contrasts (from our limited parental experience with) the American system. There are obvious superficial differences. Garrett's class is "Year 1" rather than Kindergarten. Ben's in Year 3 -- next year he'll be in 3rd grade.

The depth of our exposure to the house system mostly came from Harry Potter, in which Hogwarts was divided in four houses (Harry, Ron and Hermione in Gryffindor, Draco Malfoy in Slytherin, etc.). But that's standard fare for British schools. It derives from a time when children were in boarding schools and they were grouped, kind of like teams, by the houses in which they lived.

Riverside's houses are named for famous Czechs: Komenský, Hus, and Karel. In each year (grade), roughly a third of the students throughout the primary school are assigned to each house. The houses compete for points through academics, sports, and social behavior. Ben and Garrett are together in Komenský, thank goodness. They'll either both win or both lose at the end of the year.

Curriculum-wise, the biggest difference we've seen is what is emphasized in Year 1. As I mentioned, Garrett brings home reading books each night. He also has weekly spelling tests. There seems to be a little more emphasis on reading and a little less emphasis on writing. But then my perspective may be skewed. Ben entered kindergarten reading chapter books, so there was never an issue of him learning to read in school. But each morning (in both kindergarten and 1st grade), Ben had to write in his journal using the teacher's prompt for the class. Correct spelling was secondary to getting the kids to just write in their books. Ben didn't have spelling tests until part way into 1st grade. Garrett, on the other hand, doesn't have a daily writing expectation.

None of this is a concern for us. It's just interesting to note.

What's been fun is the British English. I confess to being a bit of an Anglophile. Riverside uses the Oxford Reading Tree books, stories loaded with British-isms about "Mum" and "chips" and people "having a go."

Obviously it's not just the books Garrett brings home, but in much of the interaction. The boys have noticed that some things are spelled the same, but pronounced differently. Brits say "Magellan" with a hard "g" instead of a soft one (which makes it sound a lot like a Saturday morning cartoon gorilla of my youth). Some things are pronounced the same but spelled differently (American: ton, British: tonne).

That may not be quite the same pronunciation, but pretty close.

And then there are the words that are spelled the same, pronounced the same, but mean something different. From the world of potatoes, "crisps" are chips and "chips" are fries. "Biscuits" are cookies, and a "torch" is a flashlight. A "jumper" is a sweater.

Got a scratch? The school nurse will clean it and apply a "plaster" (Band-aid). A British "tick" is a good thing -- a check, denoting an accomplished task. An American "tick"? Not so much. (Yes, I know there are British ticks, too.)

Some differences in usage are subtle enough that it's hard to put your finger on them. This "bit," that "bit," lots of "quite."

"Mom, Igor wasn't in school again today because he's ill!"

I'm pretty sure that if we were in Oneonta, Igor would be "sick," not ill.

Mathematics is shortened to maths (rather than math). Garrett brings home his "spellings" book (rather than spelling).

Ben's class is swimming this term for PE (physical education –- which is always called “PE,” never “gym”), and so he's instructed to bring his "swimming costume" each Tuesday. (We get a chuckle out of that, musing about the different costumes we might send. Perhaps the astronaut outfit? After all, John Glenn used a swimming pool for zero gravity training.)

It's all been very sweet. But the day I hear one of the boys announce:

Crikey, what a brilliant day with my blokes! I'm knackered. Mum, be a love and fix me a cuppa.

I'll be booking an early flight home.