Category Archives: unschooling
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
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 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
Making Peace with a Schedule
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A few weeks ago, I got an email from someone looking to flesh out the concept of unschooling a little more. One of her (paraphrased) questions was “Do you ever feel like you’re just spinning your wheels, and/or putting out fires all day?”
My answer: Yes. And when I notice it’s happening frequently, I know it’s time for something to change. More specifically, I know it’s time for me to make a change. It’s not a good thing for me OR the kids if I’m scattered all day, flitting here and there and not really present for any of it. Unschooling shouldn’t be about reacting, but about being there, right there in the moment.
Since getting all renewed and re-inspired at the conference, I have sadly realized that I really have been doing all too much wheel-spinning lately. Further, I’ve realized that I have done the same exact thing when each of my boys was Tegan’s age (3) as well. When my kids are around 3 – not quite babies anymore – I sort of have a little life crisis. They are more independent, and playing on their own more often, and needing me in very different ways than before. I start to feel that itch of wanting to take on a new hobby, or start a new business, or devote some time to a certain passion. The difference this time though is that when the boys were her age, I was either about to have another baby, or I’d just had one. So the feelings would go away, and I’d happily immerse myself once again in diapers and onesies and dimpled elbows and chubby feet and sweet smelling baby heads. This time there is no pregnancy and there is no new baby. Which is in turns heartbreakingly sad, and strangely exciting.
Lately my heightened crisis has caused me to become suddenly interested in 20,000 different things. And of course I still want to be present for my kids, and fully invested in unschooling and hands-on parenting. I want to figure out this whole “homemaker” thing, and make (and keep) a nice home for my family. I also want to have some time for myself, and some time for blogging, and some time for pursuing my own interests. As a result, I’m sorry to say, I feel I’ve been only a little bit good at all of the above. I’ve also been anxious about the new season, which is suddenly thrusting us from having zero standing weekly plans to having basketball, gymnastics, scouts, church, and bible study meetings.
And so, I’ve decided to get organized and make a plan. Instead of a zillion personal pursuits, at the moment I’m going to focus on one. And you’re reading it. This blog is my fifth baby, my heart, and my soul. I don’t know what is going to happen in the future, but for right now, this is what I need to be doing. I need to be doing it so badly that I actually made myself a schedule.
I’m not a big schedule person (in fact I sort of hate them with a passion), but I also know that they work really, really well for me. They help me focus on what I’m supposed to be focusing on, and they help my scattered brain get a little less scattered.
Here then, is my – always flexible, always subject to change – schedule:
Morning: Coffee, emails, empty the dishwasher
Rest of the day into the afternoon: Leave the computer alone (instead of checking emails/Facebook in 2 or 3 minute little bursts all the live long day). Be present and focused and available for the kids…. for playing, for projects, for questions, for reading, for talking, for hanging out.
2:00-4:00ish (still working on this): Take time for myself to blog, answer emails and comments, and work on other writing-related stuff, without feeling guilty about it.
4:30 Pick up our messes for the day to get ready for the evening
5:00 till whenever we go to bed: Dinner, dishes, activities, television, playing, and hanging out (and maybe I’ll check emails and Facebook somewhere in there too 
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The idea is that when I’m with the kids, I’m WITH them. When I’m doing something for me, I’m doing something for me. And so on. It’s still very much an experiment, because honestly, it’s something I’ve never really tried before. I had grand plans to start it yesterday, but instead had an unexpected (and welcome) outing with friends we haven’t seen for 3 months.
So we started it today. I did pretty well with ignoring my computer until 2:00, although I’m thinking I’m not so great with the cold turkey thing. The kids were all 100% on board with giving me my time at 2:00… but I spent 10 minutes of it in the tub with the girl, and another 5 explaining to the 14 year old about researching “completed” listings on Ebay to help price something he wanted to sell… both of which were momentarily more important than my own needs. At the time of this writing, it is 3:00, and all four kids have settled into a happy, comfortable groove. I’ll commit myself to giving it an honest try, and a fair amount of time, and we’ll see what it brings. I’m kind of excited at the prospect though, even if it means some adjustment, for all involved.
If you’re a stay-at-home parent, do you have some sort of schedule for your day? How does it work for you?
Good Vibrations: Finding my Tribe
This past weekend we joined over one hundred unschooling families for the Good Vibrations Unschooling Conference. I don’t want to get too mushy and sentimental about it, but here’s the thing:
I don’t really fit in with most moms. Not moms from homeschool groups, not moms from little league, not moms from scouts, not moms from church. Sure, I’ve become reasonably adept at smiling and small talk and chit chat, but when the subject shifts (as it always inevitably does) to things like curriculums, limits, punishments, and coercive parenting in general, I’m met with a stark reminder. “Oh yeah, we’re different.”
Make no mistake… I like being different. I love the lifestyle we’ve chosen to live with our family, and I truly couldn’t imagine living any other way. I am so happy, and so filled with peace with the decisions we’ve made – and continue to make – when it comes to education, parenting, and just LIVING. But I’d be lying if I didn’t say that at times it can be…. isolating… having an all but completely nonexistent local support team of people who “get it.”
Enter the unschooling conference.
And of course, the conference was lighthearted and fun. I mean, where else can you:
Go swimming
Make fairy wands and upcycled tutus
Carve sponges
Break boards
Play dress-up
Learn about nature drawing
Hula hoop
Have Nerf gun wars
Watch movies and listen to concerts by the pool, and
Take surfing lessons,
All in the same weekend?
There’s no denying that it was a great time. But it was more than that. It was like a breath of fresh air to be around so many unschoolers, to – even if just for a few days – not be the odd one out. To know that my three year old is welcomed anywhere that I am, to know that my seven year old will be taken seriously, and that my 11 and 14 year old won’t be asked what grade they’re in, or what their favorite subject is or whether or not they’re allowed to watch television or play video games. To see adults, teens, and kids of all ages playing and chatting and just enjoying each other’s company, as if it were the most natural and normal thing in the world (which, of course, it is)
Being an introvert who’s married to, well, an even bigger introvert, we’re not always so good at the mixing and mingling. We tended to do more hanging back and observing, while our unsocialized kids happily and easily made friends with everyone they came in contact with. But even from our “quietly taking everything in” stance (although, I feel compelled to make it known that I DID both break a board and hula hoop in front of a bunch of people, thankyouverymuch); even from that perspective, the amount of support and validation I received from everyone there was immense. I gained and learned so much just from seeing the examples of kindness and respect with which other parents treated their children, and with which they treated my children. And the parents I did get a chance to talk with? It was privilege, and I enjoyed every minute of it.
Shortly before we left for home, I witnessed someone yelling at a child, and demanding that he get out of the pool. It thoroughly jarred me out of my conference bubble, and I suddenly realized that I’d just gone four whole days without hearing a parent yell (which is really pretty amazing when you consider that I was there with over 100 sets of parents, and I can barely make it through the grocery store without hearing at least one parent yell, or punish, or humiliate their child.) Disclaimer: This is not to say that unschoolers are perfect parents or that they don’t make mistakes or sometimes have bad days. It’s also not to say that there aren’t wonderful parents who don’t unschool. Of course there are. It’s just that being surrounded by so many many parents who are consciously choosing a path towards a more peaceful and harmonious relationship with their kids is a pretty powerful and invaluable thing. And, well, it DOES make me want to get mushy and sentimental.
Because those are my people. That is my tribe. And even though we’re back home now, scattered amongst the country once again… I’m going to hold on tight, and thank my lucky stars that thanks to the wonder of the internet, my tribe is still with me.
Filed under conference, gentle parenting, unschooling
Won’t they just eat junk food all day?
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| This is all unschoolers eat, right? |
“One question that I have from reading your blog, is how you reconcile your nutritional beliefs/values .. with the concept of unschooling – I ask this because this is a really difficult issue for me – letting go of media/bedtimes/respectful parenting, we are already somewhere down the line with all of this, but I cannot see myself buying “junk” food/keeping it in the house – I was just interested in your take on this.”
If you’ve ever watched one of those unabashedly biased nightly “news” pieces about unschooling – or read any number of unschooling articles in the mainstream media – you’ll know that unschoolers are often depicted as eating nothing but junk food all day. Since they’re given the freedom to choose, they’re feasting on donuts and chips and sodas at all hours of the night and day… because that’s what a child would choose, right? Because of pervasive misconceptions such as these, the above question is one that I receive often, in various forms. Is that one area where you just don’t give them freedom? Don’t you worry that they’ll choose nothing but junk food? I know my child would just eat candy all day…
Let me start by saying that as someone who has studied nutrition, I do think it’s important to know about food. Absolutely. Parents are doing themselves and their children a disservice if they’re not educating themselves at least on the basics. We should know what’s in the food we’re eating, and why some choices are better than others. Why the white flour products don’t have the nutrition of their whole grain counterparts. Why commercially grown produce is so inferior to that which is grown organically. Why packaged “kids” foods like Goldfish crackers are no different nutritionally than feeding your kids cookies (in fact, as long as I’d made them myself, I’d much prefer the cookies). As parents we should know why it’s not a super idea to be serving up hot dogs or boxed macaroni and cheese or chicken nuggets with any regularity. If for no other reason, because we can’t expect our kids to understand what it means to eat a clean, healthful diet if we don’t understand it ourselves.
From an unschooling perspective, I also believe that eating is personal. Just like adults, kids should have autonomy when it comes to what they do and do not put in their body, at what time, and for what reason. THEY are the ones who know when they are hungry, when they are full, what makes them feel good, and what doesn’t… not their parents, and not the clock. And yes, I believe in freedom and choices when it comes to food. I believe that eating should be both functional and pleasurable, not something to be used as reward or punishment or fodder for a battle. None of the above is healthy (either physically or mentally) and it hurts me as both an unschooler and as a nutritional consultant to see the pressure, control, and stress that parents will sometimes place on their children over the issue of food.
So to answer the original question from up above: how do I reconcile the two perspectives? I buy lots of interesting, real, whole foods. We don’t eat fast food – no one ever asks - and we rarely buy boxed, bagged or otherwise processed stuff. We involve the kids in the entire process, and everyone gets an equal say in what we’ll eat for the week. We look up new recipes together. We talk about the pros and cons of various “diets” our friends or families are trying. We give the kids freedom, choices, and information. They know why we buy what we regularly buy, and they also know that on those occasions that they ask for chips, candy or other “extras”, that the answer will be YES. They are welcome to eat anything in the cabinet, refrigerator or freezer anytime… whether it’s before dinner, after dinner, or during dinner.
I think one big misconception that people have about this is that giving kids freedom and choices means just leaving them the heck alone, keeping the pantry stocked with Cheetos, soda, and Ring Dings, and letting them have at it. That can’t be much further from the truth. We maintain an open line of communication about food like we do everything else, and we stock the house with the things that they love, enjoy, or want to try. Nine times out of ten they’re snacking on fruits, vegetables, and nuts because that’s what they choose. But if they’re craving cookies, we’ll make some. If they’re craving cupcakes, we’ll make those too. If they’re craving cheap, sugary, artificially dyed confections from the dollar store, I’ll drive them.
The question remains though…. What would I do if it went too far and one of my kids suddenly wanted to eat nothing but junk food, white flour, and candy? It’s honestly never been an issue. They know real food, and they know that that isn’t it. They know that those things don’t make them feel good. And sure, they enjoy candy now and then. They like ice cream as much as the next guy. And would they happily eat pizza, pretzels, and potato chips at a Super Bowl party? You bet. But because none of it is “forbidden”, and they know that they’re always free to choose, they’ve learned to trust themselves, trust their bodies, and trust their instincts.
And I trust too.
I also wrote about food freedom in this post.
I CU
I CU = Intensive Care for the Christian Unschooler.
I’ve been ignoring this weekly meme for awhile now, mainly because at the time I first read about it, it felt like another thing to add to my to-do list. I know me, and I know that if I did it even once, I’d feel the need to do it again and again (not unlike the weekly Plank Pullin’ posts, which I finally did just to “try it” and somehow continued, week after week, through some kind of force akin to compulsion.) But I digress. It’s still a fun idea, and this week I decided to participate because 1) I’ve been feeling more than a little uninspired, and could use a writing prompt, and 2) I’m in desperate need of some intensive care. So without further ado, my first I CU…
“This week we want to…” get healthy!! Although, that’s using the word “we” loosely. I. I want to get healthy. But I’m sure the kids would like it too, because it’s a whole lot more fun having a mom that’s up and about and running around, than one that’s sitting on the couch feeling miserable about the fact that she feels miserable.
“The kids are…” discovering new passions, and re-discovering old ones. They have been making boffer swords, and have recently gotten out their guitars again. Spencer’s still researching small engine repair, and our kitchen counters are once again taken over by disassembled Nerf gun parts. Everett is looking forward to scouts and basketball in a couple of weeks, and the girl is excited about gymnastics.
“I am learning….” that I’m still learning. And that just when I think I have things figured out, I get a giant, metaphorical, “Ha ha, fooled ya,” and I realize that not only do I NOT have it figured out.. but I that I don’t even know what it was that I was supposed to be figuring out in the first place. I’m also learning that the times when I’m experiencing the most growing pains are the times when I’m doing the most growing.
“I am struggling with…” balance.
“This week is the first time….” I’ve shown the movie Gremlins to the kids. I love that they loved it.
“I am grateful…” that my caffeine withdrawal headache has finally gone away, after 3 days. I’m grateful that my coffee beans, grinder, filters, and maker are still there – waiting – for when I’m ready to embrace them once again.
“I’m looking forward to…..” the Good Vibrations unschooling conference, a week from tomorrow!! It’ll be the first time we’ve been around a whole group of unschoolers in 5 years, and I cannot wait.
Filed under about me, christian unschooling, I CU, unschooling
No thank you, we’ll stay plugged…
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Addiction - noun - the state of being enslaved to a habit or practice or to something that is psychologically or physically habit-forming, as narcotics, to such an extent that its cessation causes severe trauma. (From dictionary.com)
The CBS show, The Doctors says: “Studies show that one in 10 kids is seriously addicted to videogames and media, and those who watch more than four hours of TV per day are at greater risk of heart disease as they grow older.”
I heard this on their show yesterday (it’s also printed on the synopsis on their website) and aside from an initial feeling of annoyance that television is being vilified again… you know what? Not annoyance. Boredom. I’m bored from repeatedly hearing about this kind of study, and frustrated that they don’t have something more worthwhile to share with us. Aside from that, what immediately comes to mind is questions. Lots and lots of questions. Exactly what kind of “studies” did they do? Over what period of time? And on whom? Are these all school children who spend most of their day behind desks before they come home and play videogames or watch TV? Did they include homeschooled kids? Are they otherwise active? Do they have other hobbies? What is their diet like? What is their relationship with their family like? How are they defining “addicted?”
Quite simply, there’s not nearly enough information there for me to take it seriously. But what’s really disheartening to me- about this as well as similar anti-media messages – is that it is based in fear. So much of what we hear about television, video games, and media in general is so very steeped in fear. They are evil. They rot your brain. They make you violent. They make you hyper. They make you lazy. They cause blood clots and heart disease and obesity. Not long ago, I left an unschooling group after being told that because I did not limit screen time, I was “encouraging slothfulness, which is the worst kind of sin.” Fear.
I never want to make any decision for my children based on fear. I never want to place limits on tools and resources (yes – televisions, computers, and video games are resources) that are as valuable as any other, simply because of some vague – albeit widely held – misconceptions about how ‘bad’ they are.
I don’t need to know about facts, figures and studies to be able to learn from what I see and experience in my own home. In my house, my kids are as free to use the computer, play video games, or watch television as they are to do anything else. And the truth is, they are not intelligent and creative in spite of it; they are intelligent and creative in part because of it. Computer skills in general are an invaluable, and in most cases necessary, facet of our adult lives. We use computers for everything from gathering information to communicating with others to paying our mortgage. Video games are great for practicing cooperative play, critical thinking, math, science, and problem solving.
And television? I could write an entire series of posts about what we’ve learned from television, and still barely scratch the surface. Television brings an entire world into our living room. We don’t have the means to travel to obscure and beautiful countries… but we can watch Bear Grylls do it. We don’t have the experience or the facilities to scientifically test the validity of widely-held myths… but we can watch the Mythbusters do it. It can show us how to cook, take us inside an operating room, and let us feel like we’re a part of a police investigation. Or a commercial fishing trip. Or a journey to the bottom of the ocean. As for those ‘other’ shows… the sitcoms, the dramas, the next top model bachelorette housewife idols of America… The great thing about modern day television, and the advent of DVRs, is that we get to choose what we do and do not want to watch. And aside from entertaining us and making us laugh (which, if you ask me, is no small thing in and of itself), even shows like this are often a catalyst for great conversations with the kids: about people, about life, about the difference between reality and scripted television. Learning is truly everywhere. Television is not an exception.
One of the reasons that a lot of people give for not allowing television is that they want their kids to use their imaginations; they want them to be more focused on creative play. But the two are not mutually exclusive! By all accounts, my kids are some of the most creative kids I know. My 3 year old can (and does) spend an entire afternoon playing with a leaf, or a baby doll, or her play kitchen. My 7 year old has never met a science experiment or a magic trick that he did not like. My 11 year old just took it upon himself to start fashioning swords out of pvc pipe and foam. My 14 year old likes to take apart and rebuild nerf guns and lawn mowers and engines just for fun. These aren’t mindless zombies who are slaves to electronics… but smart, well-rounded kids who recognize media for what it is: no more or less than a really cool and useful tool; one that we’re lucky to have.
Could we live an unplugged life? Sure. We do it every time we go camping (and it should be noted, not one of us suffers “severe trauma” because of our cessation) We could live without electronic media. We could live without books too. And music. And poetry. And running water. But just because we can, doesn’t mean it’s somehow preferable.
We live in a world that allows us to surround ourselves with all kinds of things from which to learn: from people and places and experiences, to books and art and music, to computers and video games and televisions. It wouldn’t make sense to me, living in 2011, not to avail ourselves … to learn from, to grow from – and to enjoy – all of the above.
Filed under technology, television, unschooling
I peed on the potty, YAY!
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Do you use a toilet?
I’m going to take a stab and say that if you’re reading this that 1) you do in fact use a toilet and that 2) you generally make it to the toilet in time, without anyone’s reminder or assistance (barring any illness or special circumstance).
Do you know when it was that you started using it? Do you know when your friends or coworkers or classmates started using it? Again, I’m going to take a stab and guess that you do not. Even if we *did* know, it’s not something we really talk about. (Well, wait. I do know a few adults who talk about bodily functions more than is normally considered socially acceptable… but that’s neither here nor there) It’s just a normal, biological, every-day sort of thing that every man, woman and child takes time out of his or her day to attend to. It’s of absolutely zero importance when you started doing it.
So here’s what I’m wondering:
Why, when we know that it’s something that everyone’s going to eventually do anyway, do parents make themselves, their child, and oftentimes everyone around them crazy over the process of potty training? Why act as though it’s some sort of contest? Why the pressure, the sticker charts, the rewards, the punishments, the rush? What on earth is the BIG RUSH?
I have four children. As of just a few days ago, all four of them use the toilet all day, every day. Like with anything else, it was an individual journey for each of them.
With #1, I think I got lucky… I didn’t really do anything that I’d now consider “right”, but I didn’t really do anything I’d consider wrong either. He easily made the transition when he was around 2.5
With #2, I bungled it six ways to Sunday. He simply wasn’t ready at the same age as my first. He passed three. He passed three and half. He adamantly refused to even try it. It stressed me out. I stressed HIM out. I tried many of the things I mentioned above (things I cringe to think about now): I cajoled, I bribed, I made sticker charts, I pressured. The more I pushed, the more he resisted. It wasn’t until he turned four that I finally asked myself, “What am I doing?” Was his being potty trained by a certain age (which wasn’t happening anyway) more important than our relationship, or more important than treating him with respect, or more important than allowing him his right to autonomy over something as personal as using the bathroom? I let go of the stress, released him of my pressure, and said what I should have said all along: He’ll do it when he’s ready. And very shortly after that, he did. I promised myself that if I was ever blessed with more kids, I wouldn’t make the same mistakes again. And true to my word, when #3 and #4 became toddlers, I remembered what I’d learned.
Everett’s been using the toilet for a good 4 or 5 years now, but since the girl is still new to whole pottying scene, I thought I’d share the intricate method that got her there while it was still fresh in my mind.
Ready?
1. I waited until she was ready.
2. …. that’s it. I waited until she was ready.
A few weeks ago, we forgot to buy diapers and we ran out (and when I say forgot, I mean we literally forgot, not a calculated, purposeful “forgot”) I don’t remember the exact circumstances, but they were such that we couldn’t run out and get her more diapers at the moment, so we told her she’d need to use the toilet. And she did, all day, without a problem. After that, she still wanted her diapers, but she started to use the toilet more and more. She was proud of herself; she told me how easy it was. She started wearing underwear just as often as diapers. This past Tuesday, we all went out to an amusement park. She was all dressed, wearing underwear, and I asked her if she wanted to change before we left (she’d never left the house without a diaper before) She told me no, and I told her to let us know if she had to use the bathroom when we were there. She used their bathroom like she’d been doing it all her life, and that was that.
She’s been in underwear ever since.
We bought her a new doll she’s been wanting in celebration… not in a “if you keep your underwear dry, we’ll buy you a baby” kind of way, but in the same way I’d bake cupcakes for my husband to celebrate a promotion, or any other life event that he’s proud of. She is proud, as it’s still a big deal to her. I’m celebrating that, and enjoying that, because I know it won’t last long. I know that it’ll just be a matter of time before she’s as blasé as the rest of us. (When was the last time you heard an adult proclaim, “I peed on the potty! Yay!”?)
As much as parents can stress about it when it comes to their toddlers, and conversely take it for granted when it comes to adults, it’s a milestone. One that she met easily and naturally in her own way in her own time, because she was given the space to do so.
Filed under gentle parenting, parenting, potty training, unschooling
