Monthly Archives: September 2011
Us Time
A little more than two weeks ago, I announced my inspired plan to institute a little bit of a schedule. In this daily schedule (or rhythm or whatever you’d like to call it) was an entire block of time devoted to blogging, writing, and “me time” in general. It was a brilliant plan, and it was going to be great.
Yeah. Not so much.
And I could say I’m disappointed, and I could express some frustration, except … this is clearly the way it’s supposed to be right now, it really is: Spending my days’ energy on the kids and their needs and their pursuits (and enjoying it), and stealing my moments to shower go to the bathroom rest blog or write or pursue some other passion whenever I can get them. I know as well as anyone that they are only young once, and that this time in their life goes so quickly. So, so quickly!! And that right now, my own personal pursuits can wait, or be attended to bit by bit. Theirs cannot, or should not. And it’s not about putting myself last, or giving something up, but about putting my family FIRST.
There is such a huge societal push to get away from your kids. You need “me” time. You need “girl” time. You need “couple” time. Sign them up for classes, sign *yourself* up for classes, get them out of the house. Get a sitter, get a sitter, get a sitter. And I’m not saying that any of those things are bad in and of themselves… it’s just that my heart tells me there’s another way. It doesn’t have to be “me” time or “kid” time. It doesn’t have to mean, as has been insinuated to me by others, that my life is too kid-centric. As far as I’m concerned, right now is US time. Me and the kids and the husband. Our family should be the priority… not me, not him, not the kids, but the family. If, within that framework of family, something feels off-balance, then we deal with it. But right now, while the kids are young, spending time with them comes first.
In our family (there’s my disclaimer – our family), that has meant not leaving them with sitters. It has meant being creative about “couple” time and enjoying our literally once a year movie date. It has meant spending vacations and weekends and days off as a family. It has meant not leaving them even with relatives before they were ready, and yes, it has meant willingly postponing – oftentimes again and again – my own pursuits if it meant too much time away from them. It’s not yet the time for me to spend the hours needed in a studio to get certified to teach yoga. It’s not yet the time for me to spend the hours of study needed to take the personal trainer exam. It’s not yet the time for me to spend the hours at the computer needed to turn my writing from a hobby into a career.
I have never, ever heard somebody get to the end of their life and say, “You know what? I wish I hadn’t spent so much time with my kids.” But I’ve heard the opposite far too many times, and I don’t want to be that person.
And it doesn’t mean that I won’t take time for myself, or time for my husband, or for writing or for blogging or for anything else that comes down the pike and strikes my fancy. It just means that right now, in this season, I need to spend more time being fully present for this:
IMG_3578
And this:
And this:
And perhaps having a little less time to write about it.
And that’s okay.
Filed under about me, attachment parenting, parenting
Are you happy with your choices?
A couple nights ago, we had a salesman at the house, giving us a presentation about a way to get greener energy for our home. He was a nice guy, and he easily chit-chatted it up with us as well as with the kids as they wandered in and out of the room. It wasn’t long before the fact that we homeschool was brought to light, and the usual, honestly curious questions followed:
Oh! You homeschool, how does that work for you?
What made you decide to do it?
What kind of curriculum do you follow?
Do you do foreign languages?
How will they get into college?
And of course ….. wait for it ….. What about socialization?
One of the hardest questions for me is always WHY we chose homeschooling. Not because I don’t have an answer, but because I have oh. so. many. answers.
People always want to know what it was that originally got us started on the homeschooling/unschooling journey, and I never know just what to say. I tell them about reading John Holt for the first time, and how much it all resonated with me. But why did I pick up the book in the first place? I honestly don’t know. What would perhaps be a better question is why do we continue to homeschool after all these years? And that is something that I can answer, and answer easily.
Sure, I could wax on and on about theories of learning. I could talk at length about parenting philosophies, and ways of honoring someone as an individual, and a right to freedom. I could quote Holt and John Taylor Gatto. I could cite studies, or point to a flawed school system, or give you an example (or ten or fifty seven) of how learning happens for each of my four kids. I could, quite literally, write you a book. But the concise and simple reason we continue to homeschool is this:
It continues to be the right choice for us. It continues to be a choice that bring us happiness, and contentment, and peace. It continues to be a choice that just feels right.
I am a big believer in trusting that God (or the universe, or whatever it is you believe in) will let us know whether a choice we’ve made is the right one or the wrong one. Sometimes it’s in a subtle, quiet way; one we have to be still and really listen for. Other times its more of a “hit you over the head with an anvil like you’re a Looney Tunes character.” Unschooling for us has always been the latter. We are reminded DAILY that it’s the right choice, and rarely in a subtle fashion.
This year marks year 8 of Spencer’s being “school aged.” While we knew we’d unschool right from the start (really, even before we knew it had a name), we didn’t have anything to officially opt out of until 8 years ago. 8 years, and we are still completely and blissfully and ridiculously happy with our decision…. so it’s a choice we continue to make.
I find it odd and somewhat confusing when people claim to be happy with their choices but act threatened or offended by those who’ve chosen differently… whether it’s educational choices, or parenting choices, or work choices. I can never help but wonder if 1) those people are not as happy as they think they are, or 2) if they know deep down that they are unhappy but that they allow themselves to get angry and defensive because it’s easier than the alternative of facing the truth, or 3) if they really ARE as happy as they say they are, but for some reason view differing choices as a threat anyway (which really doesn’t make any logical sense to me) If you’re truly happy and at peace with your own choices, why would anyone else’s choices matter?
The answer is: They don’t.
Are you happy with the choices you’ve made, for yourself, and your kids, and your family? And if you’re not, are you taking steps to change them?
Filed under parenting, unschooling
Life is not fair, and no, I won’t get used to it.
The following list of rules has been showing up on my Facebook feed, and being credited to Bill Gates. I did a little bit of research (aka went to snopes.com) and found that it’s long been incorrectly attributed to Gates, when it was really written by a man named Charles J. Sykes, author of a book called “Dumbing Down Our Kids: Why American Children Feel Good About Themselves, but can’t Read, Write, or Add”. While lots of people praise it for its advice, the whole thing struck me as pessimistic and resentful towards kids in general. Here is the list, coupled with my response to Mr Sykes.
Rules You Won’t Learn in School
Rule 1: Life is not fair – get used to it!
Is there an element of truth to this? Sure. Sometimes life isn’t fair. But subscribing to this sort of philosophy is like living the old adage, “Life sucks and then you die.” It is a pessimistic, sad, and destructive way to view the world, and your life. I certainly wouldn’t want to view life in that manner, and I wouldn’t my kids to either. I choose to focus on the GOOD.
Rule 2: The world doesn’t care about your self-esteem. The world will expect you to accomplish something BEFORE you feel good about yourself.
So let me understand this. We’re not to feel good about ourselves until we “accomplish something?” Who decides what we need to accomplish before we feel good about ourselves? I didn’t finish college. I didn’t get a 1600 on my SATs. I haven’t worked outside the home in over a decade. Should I not feel good about myself? Because I do, unabashedly. And it seems to me that in this day and age of bullying, drug addiction, eating disorders, and trying to fit in with the crowd that school kids’ self esteem is at a collective all-time LOW. I’m thinking that advising them to “accomplish” something before they even think about feeling good about themselves isn’t such a stellar plan. My kids do feel good about themselves, and because they feel good about themselves, they can ‘accomplish’ anything they put their minds to.
Rule 3: You will NOT make $60,000 a year right out of high school. You won’t be a vice-president with a car phone until you earn both.
Absolutely. You probably won’t. But I don’t want my kids to chasing a goal of x dollars a year, or of being a “vice president with a car phone.” I want them to follow their path. Maybe it doesn’t involve making $60,000 a year. Maybe they have no desire to be a vice president of anything. If they’re happy and growing and pursuing their own goals it won’t matter if they’re making $10 an hour or six figures a year. If THEY are happy (and this is assuming they have ignored the advice in #2 and feel good about themselves even before they’ve “accomplished” anything) then I will be happy as well.
Rule 4: If you think your teacher is tough, wait till you get a boss.
I have had great teachers, and I have had great bosses. I don’t want my kids to fear somebody being “tough” on them, but to approach each new opportunity, person, and experience with an open mind, and an open heart.
Rule 5: Flipping burgers is not beneath your dignity. Your Grandparents had a different word for burger flipping: They called it opportunity.
Who said it was beneath anyone’s dignity? I worked at McDonald’s as a teen. I picked blueberries one summer. I’ve mucked horse stalls. I’ve cashiered more years than I care to count. I was grateful for every job that I had, and I’ve no doubt that my kids will feel the same way. I can’t help but wonder why Mr Sykes has such a low opinion of today’s youth.
Rule 6: If you mess up, it’s not your parents’ fault, so don’t whine about your mistakes, learn from them.
Seriously, what is with all the negativity? My kids make mistakes (as do I) all the time. Never once have I seen them blame me. They learn from their mistakes just like their parents do. But then again, they have self-esteem. I’d imagine it’d be easier to blame someone else for your mistakes if you didn’t feel good about yourself. So maybe if you scrapped number 2, you could scrap number 6 too.
Rule 7: Before you were born, your parents weren’t as boring as they are now. They got that way from paying your bills, cleaning your clothes and listening to you talk about how cool you thought you were. So before you save the rain forest from the parasites of your parent’s generation, try delousing the closet in your own room.
This one made my 11 year old laugh. He said, “That’s pretty funny. NOT TRUE, but funny.” He doesn’t think we’re boring, and he knows we don’t view him or his siblings as a burden, or as someone who needs to somehow be indebted to us because we pay his bills, or clean his clothes. I’d join him in his laughter except that it makes me genuinely sad to hear someone talk in such an insulting way about children in general.
Rule 8: Your school may have done away with winners and losers, but life HAS NOT. In some schools, they have abolished failing grades and they’ll give you as MANY TIMES as you want to get the right answer. *This doesn’t bear the slightest resemblance to ANYTHING in real life.*
Well, I do agree that school does not bear the slightest resemblance to real life, but not because of this example. Schools that are abolishing traditional testing and grading systems are actually getting closer to real life than those that are not. In real life, we’re allowed to use calculators, and we don’t have to “show our work.” In real life, employees get to ask questions, get feedback from bosses and coworkers, and often work as a team. In real life, people don’t have to be graded and categorized and labeled, and in real life people get to CHOOSE what they study, what they pursue, and how and where and why they work.
Rule 9: Life is not divided into semesters. You don’t get summers off and very few employers are interested in helping you FIND YOURSELF. Do that on your own time.
No, life is not divided into semesters. And no, you don’t get summers off. What strikes me about this rule though is this: Most kids are in school, what, 6, 8 hours a day? Add to that the 2 hours of homework, and to that the hour of after school sports… When does Mr Sykes suggest that kids actually get their “own” time to find themselves?
Rule 10: Television is NOT real life. In real life people actually have to leave the coffee shop and go to jobs.
We’re big fans of Friends, so this one made us laugh too. It’s laughable for other reasons though. The kids know that Friends is just a TV show. Even the 3 year old understands that Daddy goes to work every day, and she understands why.
Rule 11: Be nice to nerds. Chances are you’ll end up working for one.
Kind of ironic that he’s concerned about being nice to ‘nerds’, at the tail end of a list that’s been anything but nice to children. But by all means, YES, be nice to nerds. Be nice to teachers. Be nice to jocks and geeks and popular kids and kids who smoke in between classes. Be nice to the people who get on your very last nerve and be nice to the people who make you want, with every fiber of your being, to be the exact opposite of ‘nice’. Not because you might be working for them one day, but because it’s the right thing to do. And because – if you’ll ignore rules 1 through 10 – you’ll feel good about yourself, and positive about life, and will genuinely want to share it with others.
Filed under kids, life, unschooling
Caring Creations for the Cause Winner
Thanks to Caring Creations for the Cause, to everyone who participated in the giveaway, and for helping raise awareness for this great cause! The winner of the earrings is:
JENNIFER ALLEN. Congratulations, Jennifer! Please send me a message with your mailing address so I can get them shipped out to you.
Stay tuned for more giveaways in the future, and if you have a business and would be interested in donating an item to give away, let’s talk! 
To the bullies
(photo by trixer)
Yesterday, I read about another teenage suicide… a gay 14-year-old student named Jamey Rodemeyer who was bullied and tormented so relentlessly with homophobia and hate that he felt that taking his life was his only option.
I want the parents of this child, and others who have tragically taken their lives under these circumstances, to know that you have my deepest and sincerest sympathies. My heart breaks for anyone who endures the pain of that kind of loss.
I want the parents of other bullied children to know that this is real. This is serious. Never stop fighting for your child, and never stop thinking that you have more options to keep him safe.
I want the children who are victims of bullying to know that they are loved. I want them to know that there are people who care; people who would give their life for their happiness. I want them to know that they ARE NOT defined by the hateful words and actions of their tormenters.
And to the ones doing the bullying:
I don’t believe you are evil. I don’t believe you really want this other child to die. I know that you are scared, and insecure, and in pain yourself, and that the only way you know to make yourself feel better is to try to inflict pain on someone else. It doesn’t work. So you do it again and again and again, hoping that eventually your heart will match your carefully cultivated exterior. That you’ll feel strong. That you’ll feel tough. That you’ll feel superior. And hey, in that moment, maybe you will. But it’s a lie, and it won’t last.
There’s a scene in the movie The Breakfast Club, where Emilio Estevez’s character – a popular ‘jock’ – is talking about the offense that landed him in detention. He’d bullied and physically assaulted another student in the locker room. It was supposed to be a “comical” assault, and at first the description was played for laughs. But as he talked about the incident, and his reasons for it, his own hurt and guilt began to surface. He talked with regret about the kid’s humiliation. He talked about how his parents must have felt when they heard. He talked about remorse. Now, because it’s a movie (and a John Hughes movie at that) it was all neatly tied up by the end. He’d seen the error of his ways, had a new found love in the girl who ate Captain Crunch and Swizzle Stick sandwiches, and went about his day, never to bully again. Life’s not a movie. I get that. But there’s a fundamental truth in this story.
You might not be racked with contrition immediately, but eventually you will. And that sincere feeling of remorse is more gut-wrenching than anything you could ever inflict on someone else.
And here’s what The Breakfast Club doesn’t tell you:
It doesn’t tell you that when you are grown and have children of your own, that seeing your own children hurt in any way will be a bigger pain than any you’ve ever experienced. That you’ll see your children hurt and would do anything to take away that pain. That you’ll see your children hurt and you’ll realize, either little by little or all at once, that that child you bullied in grade school was somebody’s kid too. And you’ll feel sick about it.
It doesn’t tell you that one day you’ll be 37, and while you’ll still remember having been bullied at 13, what you’ll REALLY remember, what you’ll still feel as an indelible scar on your soul are those times when you were the bully. Those times when you went along with your friends even though you felt bad about it. Those times when you could have stood up for what was right and you didn’t. You’ll still see the face of the sweet sweet kid from 24 years ago. A kid who didn’t deserve to be treated unkindly, whose only crime was not being part of the “cool” crowd. You’ll see his face and you’ll think of your own son, or your own daughter, and you will feel a shame that will take your breath away.
There are no do-overs when it comes to bullying. You can’t take back those words, and you can’t take back those actions. In the case of Jamey Rodemeyer, and others like him, you can’t take back that life.
But you can stop bullying. Today. Right now. If you can’t yet do it for the people around you, do it for yourself….. your present self and your future self.
Filed under bullying
Plank Pullin’: The benefit of the doubt
It’s Plank Pullin’ time! The one day a week that we strongly resolve to ignore the multitude of specks and sawdust around us and pull one bona fide plank from our own eye. Matthew 7:3-5 style.
I feel I have a pretty good handle on being patient and gracious when it comes to interacting with children. It doesn’t generally rattle me when a child is behaving “badly.” It’s easy for me to keep my perspective, to tell myself that there is an underlying reason for their actions, that they’re behaving the way they are because they’re trying to communicate. That they’re tired. That they’re hungry. That they’re frustrated. That they’ve had a bad day. That they honestly don’t know any better. Yes, it’s easy for me to give them the benefit of the doubt.
But other MOTHERS behaving badly? Not so much with the patience. I was recently around a group of mothers and found myself somewhat… appalled… at the way they were collectively talking to their children, and talking about their children. They were being so rude and condescending; so disrespectful of their kids’ feelings (kids who, I might add, were not doing anything wrong) There were spankings threatened, and “Too bads” spat out. It made me angry, and it made me frustrated. How can they talk to their children like that? I did not say anything at the time, but if I’d voiced one of the conversations in my head, it likely wouldn’t have been very loving.
I think I’ve justified this kind of reaction in my mind by telling myself, “It’s just because I’m so passionate about treating children kindly.” (Because I am) “It’s just because I so badly want to advocate for children’s rights”. (Because I do) But… shouldn’t that make me want to be MORE patient with these mothers, not less? Shouldn’t that make me want to have more compassion, and more understanding, and more kindness? Shouldn’t it make me want to give those mothers at least the same amount of the benefit of the doubt that I so freely give to children?
I have no idea where another parent is coming from. I don’t know if they’re just parenting their children the way they themselves were parented, because it’s the only way they know. I don’t know if they are simply reacting to a bad set of circumstances in their own lives, and are coping the best they can. I don’t know if they possibly desperately want to change things… but just don’t know that there’s another way. I don’t know if they have the tools, and the support, and the resources they need to help them break the cycle.
What I do know (though I’ve been painfully slow to realize it) is that I can’t even BEGIN to tell other parents about having more compassion towards their children unless I first show it to them.
You must be the change you wish to see in the world. ~Gandhi
Filed under plank pullin'
Too shy? There’s a med for that.
Once you label me, you negate me. ~Soren Kierkegaard
I am:
shy
ADD
depressed
anxious
too sensitive
bi-polar
ME. I am me. I won’t be defined by a label… not yours, not mine, and not the “experts’”. I am me.
And my kids? They’re my kids. They’re people, each one of them individuals. They are not a set of characteristics or facets or “quirks.” They are not a description in a book or a pamphlet in the pediatrician’s waiting room. They are not hypothetical. They are not like anybody else. They are not mere ingredients of a whole, or something to be molded or refined or altered to fit into a certain box. They do not need to be diagnosed. They do not need to be labeled.
This article, from Health Impact News, says that 650,000 kids are already on Ritalin. As if that’s not enough, children who are too quiet or ‘moody’ or not as social as their peers now “run the risk of being diagnosed with mental illnesses and given powerful drugs like Prozac, psychologists have warned.” Not as chatty as the kid sitting next to you? Must be social anxiety disorder. Sad because your betta fish died? Clearly you’re clinically depressed. Voiced a contrary opinion to someone in charge? Why, that’s surely caused by your oppositional defiant disorder.
I think the thing that bothers me the most about this disturbingly increasing use of labels (and subsequent dispensing of medication to “treat” them) is this end goal of making everyone somehow the same. The quiet kids need to be more outgoing. But not too outgoing. The energetic kids need to calm down. But not too much. The kids who are too rigid and regimented need to relax. But just a little. The ones who are making up stories in their head and looking out the window… well, they need to learn. to. focus. Let’s just take away all their differences, and all their uniqueness, and all their personalities. Let’s make everyone NORMAL.
But wait. I have a question. Who the hell decides what “normal” is? And why is it something I’d ever want myself or my kids to strive for? I don’t want “normal” lives for my kids. I want happy. I want healthy. I want full, and rich, and interesting.
I want them to know that there isn’t something wrong with them because they are too quiet. Or too loud. Or if they learn quickly or slowly or in a different way than the kid sitting next to them. Or walk differently or talk differently or think differently. I want them to know that they were created exactly the way they were created for a reason. I want them to know that they are not a label, and they are not a box-filler, and they are not automatically a member of whatever group someone else wants to lump them in with.
This is not to say that I think we should ignore it when our children are unhappy or struggling in some way. In fact the opposite is true. I think it’s our job as parents to continually ask ourselves how we can best meet their individual needs. I think it’s our job to ask ourselves what we could do make their lives even better. What we could do to help make their lives more happy and peaceful and fulfilling. They don’t need someone to try to fix them or change them to fit inside someone else’s ideal, but someone who’ll just love them, exactly as they are. Someone who will pay attention to their needs, support them in their interests, and respect their individuality. In the end, what they need is a parent who will stand up and say, “You know what, I’m on your side.”
When I first began writing this post, I was going to share my experiences as a parent to a child that everyone wanted to label from the time he was a toddler. But I’ve decided it’s not my story to tell. It’s his story, to eventually share or not share however he sees fit. I am not in his head, and I am not in his body. I’m just lucky enough to be his mom.
I can, however, tell you what it’s like to be me. I can tell you what it’s like to have the labels I’ve crossed out up above (which, by the way, are real words I’ve heard to describe myself at various times in my life). I can tell you that I am not those labels. I can tell you that I’m just me… with flaws and warts and awesomeness just like anyone else. I can tell you that I’ve learned that the minute I let myself get defined by a label is the minute that my life gets smaller, and the minute that the world gets a little less colorful and a little less free. It’s the minute that doors close instead of open, and the minute that the glass that was once half-full suddenly becomes bone dry.
I don’t want that for myself, and I don’t want it for my kids.
And so, we celebrate being authentically US. We celebrate differences. We recognize and embrace the fact that those differences that school or society might tell us are weird or crazy or wrong… are actually something pretty darn wonderful.
Filed under kids, labels, parenting, unschooling
I Believe
I believe in God, and in Jesus Christ.
I believe in family.
I believe in unschooling and other alternative forms of education. I believe that people learn best when they are able to decide what, when, where, how, and from what or from whom they will learn. I believe in learning and living in freedom.
I believe that children should be treated kindly, gently, and with respect.
I believe in mindful parenting and parenting without force, coercion, and punishment. I believe in treating my children (and all children) the way I would like to be treated.
I believe in regular length breastfeeding (what most of the world refers to as ‘extended’ nursing). I believe in co-sleeping, baby wearing, and informed choices about vaccines, circumcision, and health care.
I believe in natural and healthy eating. And I believe in cupcakes.
I believe in making mistakes and learning from them.
I believe in playing in mud puddles, wearing pajamas all day, having ice cream for dinner, and slurping the milk at the bottom of the bowl of cereal.
I believe that life is to be enjoyed.
You are welcome here exactly as you are, whether you agree with all, some, or none of the above. I hope that we can discuss intelligently and maturely, and ultimately all learn from each other. While you’re of course free to disagree with anything you read at any time, if it makes you feel the need to call me names and hurl obscenities, you should know that 1) I will no longer publish them (unless it’s to point out your grammatical errors. That’s always fun for me) and 2) it’s an incredible waste of your time. While I’m flattered that you would want to hang out just to insult me, the internet is a big place, and there’s lots of room for all of us. These are just my opinions… it’s not worth getting upset over. There are plenty of blogs out there that won’t make you so angry, and I’ll wish you well while you go find one.
If you’re still here, I’m happy to have you! I hope my words entertain, challenge and inspire.
Filed under about me
Caring Creations for the Cause Giveaway
Caring Creations for the Cause is a local non-profit that is near and dear to me. They make and sell handcrafted jewelry, with 100% of their proceeds going directly to a local hospital to benefit women with cancer. Having seen more than one woman in my extended family battle this disease, it is a cause that hits very close to home. Last month, we had the opportunity to attend and help out for one of their fundraising events, and got to see all of their hard work in person.
Today, Mary Vogel, also very near and dear to me (and who, arguably, has some of the cutest grandchildren on the planet) has offered to give away one pair of one of their signature items: silver and pink ribbon earrings.
These are very delicate and lightweight, approximately 1.5 inch from the top of the hook to the bottom, and are a great way to show your support for this cause. Want to win them? There are four chances to enter:
1. Leave a comment on this post, and make sure to leave your email so we can contact you if you win.
2. Visit and “like” Caring Creations for the Cause on Facebook. This is a brand-new page, and they will be adding to it and updating it soon. You can find contact information there, as well as view some pictures of their most recent event.
3. Share the link to this giveaway on Facebook.
4. Share the link to this giveaway on Twitter.
There is no need to leave separate comments… just leave one comment and let me know which ones you’ve done! I will keep this open for one week, and announce the randomly chosen winner on Monday, September 26th. Thanks everyone, and a big thank you to Caring Creations for the Cause.
Good luck!
Filed under giveaways
I want you to love this. So I’m going to force you to do it.
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Confession: I have watched the movie The Sure Thing approximately 8625 times (give or take a thousand) There was a point in time when my sister and I could sit and recite the entire movie back and forth, without missing a single line. We’re geeky talented like that. Also on my watched againandagainandagain list: When Harry Met Sally, The Breakfast Club, Real Genius, Some Kind of Wonderful, and Say Anything. Yes, I am aware that they made other movies both before and after the ’80s, but that shall forever remain my favorite movie decade.
I love movies. I love them for their storytelling, for their settings, and for their dialogue. I love the cinematography. I love thinking about the screenplay (and being reminded of my all-time favorite class in college). I love the soundtracks, and how the music makes you really feel what you’re watching. I love that I can watch a movie over and over, and still notice something new every time. I love watching the characters in the background, and seeing how much they add or detract from the main action. I love catching when they’ve made a mistake of continuity in the editing. I love that a favorite movie can bring me out of the doldrums like nothing else.
Because I love them, I naturally share that love with my kids. It just sort of bubbles out of me. We talk about movies, I tell them about my old favorites, we watch together, we look up the actors we like to see what else they’ve been in. I don’t know that they will all grow up loving movies as much as I do… but I do know that they enjoy and appreciate them. They’re something fun that we all take part in, both individually and as a family, simply because I couldn’t help but share this part of myself with the people around me.
You know what I don’t do? I don’t force them to watch movies. Ever. I don’t require them to watch movies. I don’t set aside a certain part of the day for watching movies. I don’t tell them how much it would mean to me if they loved movies. I don’t make them watch movies when they’d rather be reading, or playing ball or taking apart an engine. Doing so would then make movies an unpleasant chore… the exact opposite of my intention. It would likely make them in fact strongly dislike movies (and possibly also strongly dislike ME in the process). At a minimum, it would make them resentful of my insistence, and all but ensure that it becomes a past time that they would then never willingly pursue or enjoy of their own volition.
Doesn’t that just seem like common sense?
Why then, do people hold the belief that they can foster the love of reading (another of the great loves of my life) through force? Through requiring children – whether they seem ready or receptive or not – to sitting down, and practicing, practicing, practicing… as though it were an arduous and grueling task instead of what it actually is: a useful and often pleasurable skill, one that should be enjoyed and embraced by the individual doing it. Let me ask you, how much enjoying and embracing are you going to be doing if someone is standing over you with an iron fist? How much more would you enjoy that chapter book, or National Geographic, or car repair manual (this is what my 14 year old reads for fun) if you’re the one choosing to pick it up? How much more would you appreciate having the skill of reading in your life if you came by it naturally… by having the people you love and trust sharing their joy of reading with you? By being read to, by being surrounded by the written word, by playing games and asking questions and being curious? NOT because you turned 4 (or 5 or 6 or whatever age schools these days are trumpeting as the ‘right’ age to start) and having it proclaimed to you, “Okay, time to learn to read!!”
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You may think it’s unfair of me to compare movies with reading. One’s a necessity, you’re thinking, and the other is mere entertainment. I disagree. Both are forms of conveying information and telling stories. Reading is an invaluable and important skill to develop, absolutely. Reading opens up many doors, and makes us able to learn about anything that we desire, yes. Reading helps us navigate through the world, and allows us to better understand what is happening around us, of course. But if life is to be lived (and heck yeah, LIFE IS TO BE LIVED) equally important is beauty… whether it comes from movies or books or poetry or dance. Enjoying life is important. Having passion for something is important. And a great way to make sure that your child does NOT have passion for something – at least the positive kind – is by forcing them to do it against their will.
I recently received an email from a friend (a friend who I’ve long suspected is an unschooler at heart, even though her daughter currently attends school). She told me about her daughter, a little seven year old, the same age as my Everett. She’s a girl who loved to read, and who’d often steal away to her favorite corners of the house to curl up with a book. She then started second grade, where it was required as part of her homework that she read out loud for ten minutes every day. In a matter of weeks, this little girl completely lost her love of reading, and instead began to dread it. This from a child who actually liked to read! What about the kids who are still learning, or who are focusing on other skills, or who just aren’t ready? Pushing them is going to, well, do just that: push them further away. It’s not going to help them appreciate reading, and it’s certainly not going to instill a love for the process.
Too many traditional schools are focusing more and more on ‘academics’, and at a younger and younger age. They want kids to love reading so they…. try to force it? They’re going in the wrong direction. Kids needs to PLAY, but because of increased pressures to ready them for standardized tests and college and SATS, there’s no time for play. No time for recess, or art, or music, or gym. They must learn to read! And they’re going to enjoy it, dammit!
The ironic part to me is that the system as it stands clearly isn’t working. Albert Einstein said that the definition of insanity is “doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.” This is even worse than that though, because it’s taking that same thing over and over and doing more of it. More pressure. More structure. More homework. More testing. Meanwhile, more kids are depressed, angry, burnt out, exhausted, bullying others, getting bullied themselves, and getting put on all kinds of psychotropic drugs. I can’t be the only one who sees that there’s a problem here.
Want your children to love reading? Let them see that YOU love it. Share with them. Help them. Support them. Want your children to love learning? Let them know that it’s not a chore, or a burden, or a headache… but simply what we humans do. Let them see that learning is all around them, and not something that happens at certain hours in certain places. Want your children to be happy? Let them be children. Let them run and play and mess up and touch things and taste things and try things.
Let them know that life is about joy and freedom and choices, not about getting forced into someone else’s boxes.
Filed under learning, reading, school, unschooling
