The Life Without School Community Blog

The Value of Lazy

by Becky

Dinner with unschooling friends; kids mixing and mingling all around, is the perfect place for a blog post to begin.  Lively conversation, intense debate; it's all excellent fodder for my brain to percolate on educational philosophy and our collective parenting culture.  This particular evening led to lots of conversation about the way our culture views laziness. 

Webster's says that the definition of lazy is: averse or disinclined to work, activity, or exertion; indolent.  Sounds pretty negative, huh?  Particularly because we live in a culture which values work and productivity above many other things.  We've created a system of pay-offs and incentives to train children to become workers so that we can continue making more, being more, doing more, and then we hurry up and do a little bit more so that we can finally relax when we're 70.  Interesting system, I think.  And not very supportive of creativity, mindfulness, or letting things unfold in a gentle manner.

As we sat around the table and debated, a visiting grandfather insisted that his skepticism of unschooling stems from the belief that structure and discipline must be taught, and that said structure and discipline are necessary in  order to achieve future success.  He was educated in England, and when he looks back on his childhood, he is certain that if he had not been required to go to school, he would have been completely and totally lazy.  He also believes that he would never have accomplished the things in life that he has, had it not been for his education.  When I asked him about the word lazy, he explained that he probably would have laid on his bed and read most days, and would never have been motivated to explore or learn anything new on his own.  And here lies the question:  What does it mean to learn something new?  Why isn't reading a book all day as valuable as attending a compulsory class?

This fascinates me.  And I'm also not surprised to hear it.  If you've been educated by a system from a very early age which maps out your learning and schedules your time for you, of course you are going to wonder whether it is possible to do anything of your own accord.  Many of us who are raising unschooled children were not unschooled ourselves and have had to work hard to re-train our brains in this way.  What I realize now, of course, is that a child who chooses to "laze around" and read all day is learning a whole lot.  To some it may look like laziness, to me it looks like an education. 

Chances are good that folks like this particular grandfather may indeed have never become lawyers or accountants or physicians, had it not been for the gold stars and incentives handed out in school.  But the bigger question to me is certainly, what else would they have accomplished at their own pace and in their own time?  The external motivation that school places on kids to work hard for future success is tempting.  However it involves handing over our children's internal motivation to a team of adults who may or may not have their best interests at heart.

And what about success?  Why can our culture not value the success of the child who chooses to become as juggler as highly as the one who chooses to study law?  Imagine the possibilities in a community where a child's internally motivated choices are valued regardless of standardized test scores, future earning potential, or eventual retirement benefits.  Imagine the sense of health and well-being that would radiate from a community of people following their internally motivated passions freely, pursuing lifestyles in alignment with their interests and talents.  Quite possibly, road rage, stomach ulcers, and ridiculously jam-packed schedules would become a thing of the past.  People would become human beings, not human doings. 

From the outside looking in, I suppose our unschooling lifestyle could be considered lazy, by conventional standards.  We go to bed when we're tired.  We wake up when we're not.  We eat when we're hungry and we read or play and take adventures when we feel like it.  Some days we're busy and some days we're not.  Some days just not killing each other is the best we can do.  But it's rarely about productivity and it's never about anyone else's agenda but our own.  We focus on ourselves, each other and our place in our community as well as the world.  We build relationships and explore possibilities.  We don't call it lazy, we call it our unschooled life. 

Becky is the unschooling mother of three (Janey, 12, Macy, 10 and Charley, 7) attempting to raise her children with compassion and respect.  She taught elementary school for 9 years before discovering unschooling when it was time for her oldest to go to Kindergarten.  She credits Sandra Dodd, Mary Griffith, Jan Hunt, and just about every other person she interacted with at her first HSC Home=Education conference 6 years ago, as her inspiration to find a more natural way of living and learning with children.  She is a passionate and radical transportation activist and is starting a non-profit carsharing organization in her town.  You can read more of what Becky has to say at http://lifewithoutschool.blogspot.com   She can be reached at ashlandcarshare@gmailcom.

Pacifying the Beast

by  Becky

Every once in a while it happens.  For some of us, it happens a lot.  Fear and panic grip us, and we worry that unschooling can't possibly work.  After all those years of schooling and being schooled ourselves, living in a world where school = learning, it is very easy to trip and fall on the slippery slope of self doubt and worry.  Here's what I do:  I make lists. 

In the early years, they were actual lists, on paper, with numbered columns and check marks.  It helped...a lot.  These days, my fears and worries rarely make it on paper.  When I start to let my mind wander into the murky depths of the future homelessness, mental illness and unemployment of my children as a result of their unschooled life, I make mental lists of the things we do, every day, all day long, which prove my children are learning. 

Here's what a list for today would have looked like:

1.  Morning Walk - pedestrian & traffic safety (social studies), pollution, air quality, seasons, climate, hemispheres (science, meteorology)

2.  Flag Football Game - lost jersey: negotiation, compromise, problem solving, prioritizing, communication (health, social studies), teamwork, communication, following directions, (physical education & social studies)

3.  Laundry - sorting, folding (spatial relations, geometry), reading labels (language arts)

4.  Lunch - health, nutrition, gardening (science, home economics)

5.  Clean Up - (health, home ec.), negotiation, fariness, communication, teamwork, equality, priorities, respect, sharing, cooperation (health)

6.  Wrapping Gifts - creative expression, compassion (geometry, art, health)

7.  Cleaning Sea Shells - vinegar vs. bleach (chemistry lab)

8.  Grocery Shopping - reading, writing (language arts), price comparisons, budgeting, financial planning, estimating, rounding, calculating (math), decision making, event planning, nutrition (home ec.), route planning, (geography), patience, cooperation (health)

9.  Story Telling - personal history, oral communication, speech (social studies), self confidence, stand up comedy (health)

10.  Hanging out at Home -  visit from neighbors (social studies), conversation about music (music history, science, music appreciation), looking through old photos (family history, chronology, math), letter writing (reading, spelling, language arts, art), snowman building, cooperation (geometry, physical education)

11.  Dinner - following recipes, meal planning (reading, math, nutrition, health), communication, cooperation (social studies, health)

12.  Read Aloud/Sleepover with Friends - reading comprehension, & discussion, dramatic play with friends (language arts, creative arts, drama), listening to music (music appreciation)

All of this really happened.  And all of this happened without an adult deciding that it was going to because a particular set of skills needed to be learned today.  When I think back to the lesson planning in my elementary teaching days, I would have been satisfied to cover a fraction of this list in the classroom.  Reviewing this list reminds me that my children are living a rich life every single day because they are creative and curious human beings.  I know this intuitively.  Some days I just need to be reminded.  Making a list can help pacify the beast.  Next time fear creeps in and threatens to sabotage your unschooling life, don't rush out and buy a new curriculum.  Don't head down to the school office to enroll your kids.  Try making a list.  You might be surprised at what you'll find.

Becky is the unschooling mother of three (Janey, 12, Macy, 10 and Charley, 7) attempting to raise her children with compassion and respect.  She taught elementary school for 9 years before discovering unschooling when it was time for her oldest to go to Kindergarten.  She credits Sandra Dodd, Mary Griffith, Jan Hunt, and just about every other person she interacted with at her first HSC Home=Education conference 6 years ago, as her inspiration to find a more natural way of living and learning with children.  She is a passionate and radical transportation activist and is starting a non-profit carsharing organization in her town.  You can read more of what Becky has to say at http://lifewithoutschool.blogspot.com   She can be reached at ashlandcarshare@gmailcom.

Making it Up As We Go Along

by  Becky

Today was one of those days that I relish as an unschooler.  It looked like this: 

Got out of bed when we felt like it.  Ate when we were hungry.  Spent time together.  Spent time apart.  Laughed a little.  Smiled a lot.  Argued and discussed.  Played.  Friends stopped by for an unexpected visit.  Worked in the yard.  Watched a cool program.  Snuggled on the couch.  Knitted.

Sadly, not all of our days look like that.  Some are filled with outings and activities that keep us away from home for most of the day.  Some are filled with paperwork, computer work, phone calls, meetings, laundry and fighting children; grouchy moms, bank statements and messes no one wants to clean up.  Sigh.  But days like today remind me that my kids are learning far more than I realize every single day.

After breakfast, we started a game of Monopoly.  I could tell it was going to be a long one, so I made an extra large cup of coffee and settled in.  I hadn't played in several months, so I was surprised to see that Charley, my 7 year old, needed very little help in figuring his transactions.  As a matter of fact, I had to bite my tongue several times when I felt the urge to hurry him up during his turn.  Had I done so, I would have missed out on his newfound obsession with converting his bills.  When he was cash poor, it was all about 1s and 5s.  When he was rolling in the dough, the constant goal was trading in for 100s and 500s.  Two months ago, he was bored out of his skull while waiting for his turn.  Today, he was figuring mathematical calculations in his head for two and a half hours straight!

Years ago, when I was an elementary school teacher, the educational value of games was not lost on me.  I stocked the shelves in my classroom full of fun stuff like Monopoly, Dominoes, Chess, Checkers, and Scrabble;  all to be played after regular work was completed, of course.  Deep down, I knew kids should be able to play as much as possible.  But back then, I still was plagued by the old belief that somehow it was cheating if learning was too much fun.  Fun learning needed to be balanced by dull, tedious learning; to build character, or to prepare students for standardized tests or college or whatever inevitable discomfort lay ahead.

After 7 years of unschooling and living with three children who have never been to school, I'm aware that the old belief that learning must be difficult, has nearly left my awareness.  Every once in a while, however, it pokes it's head out to remind me that 7 years is nothing compared to the nearly 25 I spent as a student and teacher.  Today, as Macy, my ten year old, was calculating the amount of change she should give me, she got frustrated and looked at me for help.  The old teacher-me lapsed into that tell-tale, high-pitched voice and I found myself explaining the groups of tens and ones and how simple it would be to count backwards from.....

Macy rolled her eyes and pleaded, "Remember Mom?  I don't have to know this unless I want to....remember?  Just tell me how much change I'm supposed to give you and let's get on with it."

Oh.  That's right.  Thankfully, I shoved that old belief back under the surface and on with it, we went.  On with our day.  On with our learning and growing.  Choosing to live life without school comes from my belief that kids should be in charge of their own learning.  Just like they decided when to talk, crawl and walk, I trust that my children will intuitively know when they need to read, write and calculate.  The large amounts of time that we spend together as a family allows for our relationships with one another to be our primary focus.  We deliberate, negoatiate, compromise, bicker, and discuss every single day. I see my most important role to be more "experienced resource person", than wise teacher.

All this time we end up spending together also allows me to witness the miracle of their own self discovery.  Numbers are pondered and sums figured, but chances are good,  it happens in the produce isle at the grocery or peddling up hill on our bikes.  This afternoon, on our bike ride home, Charley explained his theory about day and night and the 24 hour clock.  The conclusions he draws amaze me on a regular basis and the ease with which he connects new pieces of information reinforces my decision to let these kids do life, and learning, in their own way.

In the beginning of our unschooling journey, I worried that there was no plan.  After years of goal setting and curriculum planning with my students, it felt odd to essentially make it up as we went along.  But I've come to realize that this is the beauty of an unschooling life.  It can change at any time.  A few months ago it was ballet and soccer.  This week it's knitting and football.  Our time and our energy is put into whatever it is that makes us feel alive and whole.  I think this quote from Howard Thurman says it all:

"Do not ask yourself what the world needs.  Ask yourself what makes you come alive and do that, because what the world needs is those who have come alive."

Becky is the unschooling mother of three (Janey, 12, Macy, 10 and Charley, 7) attempting to raise her children with compassion and respect.  She taught elementary school for 9 years before discovering unschooling when it was time for her oldest to go to Kindergarten.  She credits Sandra Dodd, Mary Griffith, Jan Hunt, and just about every other person she interacted with at her first HSC Home=Education conference 6 years ago, as her inspiration to find a more natural way of living and learning with children.  She is a passionate and radical transportation activist and is starting a non-profit carsharing organization in her town.  You can read more of what Becky has to say at http://lifewithoutschool.blogspot.com   She can be reached at ashlandcarshare@gmailcom.

General Knowledge

by Becky

I had a conversation with an unschooling friend not long ago.  We were talking about the way concerned family members express their doubts about unschooling.  She shared that her own mother rarely asks about their unschooling life because it's just easier to not know all the details.  My friend figures that by not asking for details, her mom can create her own, more easily digestable version of what their homeschooling life looks like.  This makes sense to me.  Unschooling confuses lots of people.  No school?  How ever will they learn?

My friend did go on to report, however, that her mom recently dipped her toe in the pool, so to speak, and asked a few questions.  They were chatting on the phone and her mom asked how the kids were and what they were up to.  After my friend responded that all was well and that their circus class was a highlight, her mom cleared her throat.

"Honey, I'm just wondering,"  she stammered.  "How are they going to get, you know, general knowledge, without ever having been to school?"

My friend and I laughed as she continued telling me about the conversation.  Admittedly, our laughter comes from a place of total confidence in our children and their healthy development and full, vibrant lives.  Long distance relatives clearly don't have the same advantage.

But she brings up an interesting point, I think.  General knowledge.  Hmmmmm.  Let's see.  Does she mean those mundane and completely irrelevant details that we all spent hours and hours memorizing in school so that we can to this day amaze our friends when we play Trivial Pursuit or Jeopardy?  Or maybe she's talking about the information someone needs in order to successfully navigate the world around them.  Could general knowledge also be the set of skills which allow someone to complete a particular task?  Could it be that general knowledge is simply a term people use to describe the kind of smarts that a person should have so as not to appear stupid or ignorant?  I don't know about you, but I didn't learn "general knowledge" in a classroom.  I learned it everywhere else.

When I reflect on the times in my life when I have felt that I should have known something that I didn't, I am unanimously reminded of school.  Tests, exams, oral reports, pop quizes.  I learned at an early age that it was very important to have the right answer at all times, and to never look foolish.

The thing about unschooled kids, though, is that they usually don't struggle with the same need to perform.  Feelings of inadequacy are rarely associated with how much you know about a particular topic. Because learning is not associated with performance and is something done purely by internal motivation, unschooled kids often skip this unnecessary and painful rite of passage.  If you don't believe that memorizing bits of information to please and amaze your teachers and friends at school is important, then it doesn't matter anyway.

I shared in a post recently that my daughter Macy didn't even flinch when a well meaning friend asked her to name a particular state on the wall map.  When I say she didn't flinch, I don't mean that she answered the question immediately.  She didn't.  Rather, she asked a question in return:  "Why?"  I was stunned, and proud.  I took her question to mean:  "What relevence does that bit of information have for you and why are you putting me on the spot?"

My unschooling friend and I agreed that in this day and age, it takes about 12 seconds to Google something and find out that little factoid you never knew.  I recall at some point in Junior High or High School memorizing the three branches of our US government and their particular functions.  I passed that test way back then and maybe even wrote a paper about it.  I don't remember those details today.  I don't need them.  But when I do, I know who to call and where to look.  That works just fine for me.

My kids are learning that I don't know everything and that learning who to ask is half the fun.  At a family gathering recently, a distant relative asked about homeschooling.  "So you are the children's only teacher?"  I smiled and tried not to laugh.  I politely explained that I was only one of many, and that I learn just as much from my children as they are learning from me.

Becky is the unschooling mother of three (Janey, 12, Macy, 10 and Charley, 7) attempting to raise her children with compassion and respect.  She taught elementary school for 9 years before discovering unschooling when it was time for her oldest to go to Kindergarten.  She credits Sandra Dodd, Mary Griffith, Jan Hunt, and just about every other person she interacted with at her first HSC Home=Education conference 6 years ago, as her inspiration to find a more natural way of living and learning with children.  She is a passionate and radical transportation activist and is starting a non-profit carsharing organization in her town.  You can read more of what Becky has to say at http://lifewithoutschool.blogspot.com   She can be reached at ashlandcarshare@gmailcom.

Checklist for the New Unschooler

by  Becky

Fall is in full swing around here and it's hard not to notice the changes.  Friends and neighbors that we played with all summer have long disappeared back into school rooms.  Well meaning adults in the community are constantly asking my kids why they're not in school.  Even though we live in a place where homeschooling is not necessarily an unusual choice, we are reminded daily of our unique choice to live life without school. 

Fall doesn't mean back to school or back to homeschool classes for us.  As unschoolers, we make choices based on what suits our family's interests, Winter, Spring, Summer, and Fall.  But I do find at this time of year, that it is comforting to remind myself of why we do what we do.  Explaining this to the clerk at the grocery store or the volunteer at the library refreshes my memory and helps me to stay clear as I navigate this unschooling life with my children.

All of this reflecting and pondering made me think about what it was like to be a new unschooler.  One thing I wish I had been given was a checklist.  Something to hang onto and refer to when fear and self-doubt were looming large.  The outside world and mainstream culture don't usually offer much comfort.  It's helpful to have some back up when you really need it.  So, here goes: 

My Checklist for the New Unschooler

1. Remove the word "educational" from your vocabulary.  Resist the urge to ask yourself whether or not the games, videos, comic books or activities your children choose are worthwhile.  It's all worthwhile in the grand scheme of things.  If you just can't let go of the need to have a hand in what they choose, simply leave interesting things "laying around" the house (with no expectations, of course): a new library book or a deck of cards on the coffee table, a roll of stamps and some stationery on the kitchen table, you get the idea.

2.  Slow down and relax.  Don't feel the need to fill up your days with loads of activity.  Leave room for spontaneity and just hanging out, with no agenda.  Don't over schedule.  The beauty of an unschooling life is that there are no musts.  If life gets busy and overwhelming, stop.  Breathe.  Take a moment to decide how to proceed in a way that will align with your values.  Try to ignore the belief that more is better.  Take advantage of the time you have just being together as a family and see what happens.  Creativity and wonder creep in easily when you're not racing around and busy all the time.

3.  Make sure that cool stuff is within reach.  This means games, puzzles, art supplies, kitchen staples, books, maps, notebooks, pens, staplers, duct tape, hole punches, envelopes, address books, dice, clay and anything else that your kids like to get their hands on.  Keeping items within reach makes it a whole lot easier for your kids to be independent and get creative on their own terms. 

4.  Make time for the things you enjoy.  If you love to garden, paint, swim, read, sing, cook, ride your bike, hike in the forest, browse book stores, or make jewelry, then be sure to do it!  Your children will notice that you do what you love, and they'll be freed up to do the same.  Passion and creativity are contagious.  They may even join you!

5.  Have fun.  It's what children do best, and with some luck, we adults can follow their lead.  If there's one thing our children have to teach us, it's how to stay fully in the moment.  Anything is more fun when you're focused and free of worry and fear.  The laundry and the dishes will still be there when you're through.  Go have some fun.

6.  Don't be afraid of being called a flake.  Unschoolers are notorious for dabbling, which to schoolish folks appears flaky.  Choose your activities carefully and don't be shy about speaking up when some thing's not a good fit.  The beauty of life without school is that there is no need for compulsory anything.....anything!  If you or your child can't remember why you've decided to do something and the joy is gone (or never existed in the first place) it's time to reevaluate.  Your sanity and quality of life are more important than someone else's idea of following through.

7.  Allow yourself to be imperfect.  We're all human.  We all screw up and snap at our kids or say the wrong thing.  Spending more time with your kids means a higher likelihood of losing your cool.  Don't sweat it.  Learn to say you're sorry and move on.  It'll be okay.  If nothing else, you'll be giving your children permission to do the same.  Children (and adults) who are allowed to feel their feelings (all of them) and take responsibility for them, end up being emotionally healthy people.

8.  Remember that what other people think of you is none of your business.  Chances are, if you're chosen unschooling, you stand out a bit in the crowd.  Not everyone understands why we do what we do, and that's a good sign.  It means you're challenging mainstream beliefs about kids and adults and families.  You know what works for you, and that's all that matters.  Spend time with parents who interact with their kids the way you do (or the way you'd like to).  Limit your time with people who challenge your self esteem, especially in the beginning.  Surround yourself with allies in person and otherwise, if necessary (read unschooling blogs, books, e lists, and magazines), to counteract that little voice questioning your every move.

9.  Chose the relationship over your need to be right.  Preserving your relationship with your child will prove to be the high road when it comes to petty arguments and power struggles.  Try, "I'm sorry." , or "You might be right."  instead.  Unschooling as a parenting style means choosing to spend more time with your child than the average parent.  Use that extra time to strengthen your relationship rather than break it down.

10.  Trust your children.  Completely.  Wholly.  Unconditionally.  It will be scary.  You will wonder, at times, if you've gone completely bonkers.  You won't, however, be sorry.  Before questioning or second guessing your child's intuition, ask yourself if you would respond in the same way to an adult.  If not, think twice before speaking up.  Children treated with respect and trust are more equipped to reflect that back to the world around them.

Well, there you have it.  Just ten steps.  Good luck.

Becky is the unschooling mother of three (Janey, 12, Macy, 10 and Charley, 7) attempting to raise her children with compassion and respect.  She taught elementary school for 9 years before discovering unschooling when it was time for her oldest to go to Kindergarten.  She credits Sandra Dodd, Mary Griffith, Jan Hunt, and just about every other person she interacted with at her first HSC Home=Education conference 6 years ago, as her inspiration to find a more natural way of living and learning with children.  She is a passionate and radical transportation activist and is starting a non-profit carsharing organization in her town.  You can read more of what Becky has to say at http://lifewithoutschool.blogspot.com   She can be reached at ashlandcarshare@gmailcom.

4 Shooting Stars and No School Supplies

by Becky

My three kids and I live in a community of 9 homes that were all built at the same time. Actually, we built them, all of us....nine families, together....all at the same time. It took us ten months and plenty of blood, sweat, and tears; but we did it, together.

It's Labor Day weekend. The last hurrah for those on a school schedule. Today, we held a yard sale to sell the last of the power tools that we now no longer need because we are done building our homes. There are 12 kids living in these 9 homes, so of course we sold cookies and lemonade as well. We baked and wrapped and squeezed and made cardboard signs most of the afternoon yesterday and the kids set up their bake sale tables, while the adults organized the tools, the random boxes of nails, the extension ladders and hard hats, and that dang shop-vac that we've all been tripping over in the shed. There was so much excitement in the air. We moved into our homes back in December, and many of us needed to majorly hibernate for a few months after such a huge project. So now, when we get together for a potluck or an outdoor project, there is a familiar energy. Something like picking up that old guitar again and remembering how to play.

Most of the tools sold by the middle of the afternoon. The bake sale was a huge success. The kids made enough money for us to plan an ice cream party later in the week. Macy (middle daughter, age 9) made nearly 6 bucks face painting. I think she only got up out of her chair twice in 6 hours. She was in heaven, and now we are all walking around with little flowers and pumpkins and rainbows on our cheeks. One of the highlights of the day was the potluck. Sunny played his guitar the kids played basketball and rode scooters and bikes and skateboards until well after dark. We ate and laughed and and sang, and the kids played some more. Friends and neighbors dropped by.

I was tired. The kids were winding down. I thought for sure we were saying our goodnights and on our way to bed. And then I looked up. The stars. I laid down on the sidewalk and stared. Wow. Every time I do this, I can't believe how long it has been since the last time I found time to do this. Absolutely breath taking. Within minutes, 6 kids (my three and three others) had joined me. Janey, my 11 year old saw her first shooting star. Is that really possible? I had a moment of guilt. Maybe we haven't been looking up often enough. She, however, was thrilled. Gus, our 5 year old neighbor, came racing over when he heard our collective ooohs and ahhhs. Janey tried explaining to him what a shooting star looked like. She finally settled on: "Just keep looking up. You'll know it when you see it."

We laid there, mostly in silence, broken only by the gasps and ponderings: How do the satellites not fall to Earth? Where is Orion's belt? Which planets can we see right now? Are stars hundreds, thousands, or millions of miles away? What's that cloudy stripe down the center? Will the sun ever be a shooting star? What would it be like if there was no sun? Could we still eat pork sausage if we had no plants? And my favorite, "Are we upside down?"

These are the moments in life when I am reminded of why I choose to be an unschooler. Our life is rich and full and the learning is spontaneous and relevent. It's Labor Day Weekend. There's not a school supply in sight. And I saw 4 shooting stars tonight.

Becky is the unschooling mother of three (Janey, 12, Macy, 10 and Charley, 7) attempting to raise her children with compassion and respect.  She taught elementary school for 9 years before discovering unschooling when it was time for her oldest to go to Kindergarten.  She credits Sandra Dodd, Mary Griffith, Jan Hunt, and just about every other person she interacted with at her first HSC Home=Education conference 6 years ago, as her inspiration to find a more natural way of living and learning with children.  She is a passionate and radical transportation activist and is starting a non-profit carsharing organization in her town.  You can read more of what Becky has to say at http://lifewithoutschool.blogspot.com   She can be reached at ashlandcarshare@gmailcom.

It's Just Not About Me

by Becky 

I knew this Summer Theater Conservatory was going to challenge me.  The director was clear from the initial audition that it would be intense.  Fun, no doubt, but intense.  Five weeks, 9am until 4pm, Monday through Friday, plus homework!  Homework!  I'm not sure I'm cut out for this.  The problem is, it's just not about me.

Macy, my ten year old, decided to audition for this camp back in April.  I was shocked.  She's always loved to sing, and she's been dancing with the same instructor for over three years now, but my Macy loves her free time.  I wouldn't have pegged her as a candidate for a completely scheduled summer.  Last Spring, she told me she felt a little over scheduled.  Her weekly knitting class (1 hour a week) and her art studio class (3 hours a week) were feeling like a bit much.   She complained she didn't have enough time to just "hang out".  For Macy, just "hanging out" means time to draw, listen to music, read, or just play with our neighbors.  As an unschooling family, we typically do a lot of hanging out.  Getting a spot in the summer conservatory would mean a lot less hang out time.  It was going to mean a major lifestyle change.

The audition was indeed rigorous.  Kids were asked to prepare a memorized monologue, a memorized Broadway show tune, and be ready to learn and perform a choreographed number.  I figured this was going to be one of those fantastic but disappointing life experiences, where she'd try really hard and give it her all, but wouldn't quite make the cut.  After all, she's only 10.  She'd have years to refine her dramatic talents.  Secretly, I was hoping she wouldn't make it.  I mean, it's not that I don't want my kids to achieve their goals, or be happy.  But, I enjoy our open schedule.  I like being in jammies until noon.

Of course, it wasn't up to me, and she made it in the conservatory.  She was thrilled.  I was thrilled for her.  I was!  But that was way back in May.  Now we're on week 2, and I'm exhausted.  We're up early packing a lunch and getting Macy to the bus stop.  By the time she gets home, she's tired and hungry, and still has homework to do...did I mention the homework? The other night, as I was helping her with a music theory worksheet, I lost it.  She was confused and couldn't remember which notes equaled which counts and it was late.  I began to question the whole experience.  Worksheets?  Monologues?  Memorizing?  Where was the fun?  Where was the spontaneity?  I began composing the letter of complaint to the conservatory director in my head.

And then, I took a deep breath.  I looked at my daughter, dutifully filling out a Musical Math Worksheet and happily filing her Actor's Personal Biography in her binder.  Oohhh, that's right.  This isn't about me.  This is about Macy.  She chose this very intense, very new activity.  She enjoys it.  She's having fun.  I'm the one who is still de-schooling myself.  I'm the one with very strong opinions about busy work and structured classrooms.  Oooops.  One more reminder that this life without school isn't just about me.

It's good for me to be reminded of that.  I find that my passion for my children and for unschooling  can sometimes cloud my vision.  There are times when I need to be gently reminded that the whole point in this child raising gig is to eventually let go.  The fact is, I really miss Macy when she's gone.  I'm not used to her spending most of her waking hours elsewhere and there is a big part of me that would love to be there with her.  But I suppose I can find comfort in the fact that she is doing what she loves because she wants to, not because she has to.  The whole point in choosing unschooling has been to follow my children's lead.  Macy has led us all here.  It wasn't my choice, but I'm here anyway. 

I'm letting go, so that she can eventually come back.

Becky is the unschooling mother of three (Janey, 12, Macy, 10 and Charley, 7) attempting to raise her children with compassion and respect.  She taught elementary school for 9 years before discovering unschooling when it was time for her oldest to go to Kindergarten.  She credits Sandra Dodd, Mary Griffith, Jan Hunt, and just about every other person she interacted with at her first HSC Home=Education conference 6 years ago, as her inspiration to find a more natural way of living and learning with children.  She is a passionate and radical transportation activist and is starting a non-profit carsharing organization in her town.  You can read more of what Becky has to say at http://lifewithoutschool.blogspot.com   She can be reached at ashlandcarshare@gmailcom.

Mother Doesn't Always Know Best

by Becky

At Park Day last week, five or six of us were chatting in the shade while our children played in the blazing sun.  A mom new to homeschooling asked if our group was exclusive to unschoolers.  It's not.  Many of us use the term unschooler to describe our particular style, but there are several who do not.  "I just don't know what to call myself, " our newbie declared.  "Some days I think we're unschooling and other days I'm just not sure."

Lively discussion followed about how each of us had settled on our particular versions of homeschooling.  Unanimously, we all shared that our original intentions had been left behind after just a few months.  My story is similar.  As a former elementary school teacher, I never dreamed I would be keeping my own children home from school.  I certainly never would've guessed we'd be unschooling.  As we sat on that blanket and talked about our individual choices to homeschool, I realized that the various labels we use mean far less to me now than they once did.  As far as I can tell, homeschooling parents all have something important in common:  We all question the value of sending children to school, and we feel empowered enough to do something different.

I've read and participated in countless arguments about the interpretation of the term unschooling.  John Holt originally coined the term in 1977 as a way of differentiating between school-at-homers and other less structured styles.  My problem with the term is that it states merely what we don't do.  We don't sit at the kitchen table and do lessons.  We don't fabricate learning.  We don't spend hours every day at school.  I believe that what we do is far more descriptive.  We hike, we cook, we play, we bike, we read, we create, we invent, we dance, we investigate, we sing, we perform, we write, we draw, we paint, we plant, we harvest, we explore, we predict, we ponder, we take apart, we fix, we day dream, and if there's time, we do nothing at all.

My unschooling life may look very different from yours.  That's the beauty of it, in my mind.  Every family is different, every child is different, every parent is different.  How could we possibly do it the same and still stay true to our unique selves?  Freedom from school means freedom to be ourselves, to do things in our own way.  I do love connecting with other like-minded families.  It feels great to have those juicy conversations where you know you're being understood on a very deep, meaningful level.  But I've given up the notion that we all need to be homeschooling in the same way.  The self righteousness I may have projected early on may have been an important part of my development as an unschooling mom.  That passion was my way of securing my own beliefs about learning.   But I certainly don't know what's best for someone else, and often, I don't even know what's best for my kids.  But they do.

I recently read an interview with a grown unschooler.  She talked about how, in her new role as the parent of a toddler, she is learning to let go of solutions.  This is just what I needed to hear.  Brilliant!  I may not have all the answers!  I'm not necessarily the expert!  Phew.  I love it!  She suggested that she may be doing her child a great disservice by continually showing up with a pre-determined set of solutions.  Often, she reasoned, what is most helpful, is to let go and enter into a difficult situation or conflict with a completely open mind.

This really resonates with me, but I often struggle with actually doing it.  For me, unschooling is all about experiencing life with an open mind.  So much about our life as a family is about approaching life on life's terms.  My kids have already figured out that there are very few musts in our daily living.  If something isn't working, you try it another way.  If you aren't happy with your circumstances, you change them.  And yet, how often do I, as a parent; the older, wiser, supposed leader of the pack, assume that I know what's best?  How often do I sabotage my children's independence and creativity by bringing my (older, wiser....more exhausted) solutions to their difficulties?  Too often, I'm afraid.

I remember when my two oldest children were about 2 and 4 years old.  They played together constantly.  Dress-up, house, fairies, make believe.  Most days they started the moment they woke up and hardly stopped for a break before bedtime.  Along with all of this play came an enormous amount of bickering and fighting.  In the beginning, I would jump in and attempt to "help" them sort things out before things escalated.  Sometimes my efforts were helpful, but often they weren't.  As a matter of fact, I slowly began to realize that my supposed "solutions" were actually making things worse.  After a few botched attempts to "talk things out" I began to realize that the girls did a much better job working things out without me.

This same realization is coming back around for me 8 years and a third child later.  It is often said that as we are unschooling our children, we are deschooling ourselves.  Most days it seems I have a never ending supply of opportunities for growth as a parent.  My three children remind me constantly that they know what they need, when they need it.  When I hit a snag and try to assert myself into their struggles, it's helpful for me to ask myself:  What's my motivation?  Am I trying to  help my children find what's best for them?  Or am I simply trying to make myself feel better?  If the latter is true, it's time to back off and keep the focus on me.  What's best for me?  What do I need to do in order to  be the best me I can be?  Surely this modeling is the  ideal way to share my wisdom and experience with my kids.

Mainstream parenting doesn't support this, however.  Ah, well.  Yet another opportunity to swim upstream and stand up for my kids.  When faced with the strange looks or blank stares on the faces of those who don't understand why I allow my children to make their own choices, I've found it's best for me to tune out popular parenting culture and tune in to me.  My current lesson appears to be something along the lines of, "Mother doesn't always know best."  When I remember to trust my children and to let go of the notion that my job is to solve all their problems and smooth out their difficulties, life is pretty darn good.

Becky is the unschooling mother of three (Janey, 11, Macy, 10 and Charley, 7) attempting to raise her children with compassion and respect.  She taught elementary school for 9 years before discovering unschooling when it was time for her oldest to go to Kindergarten.  She credits Sandra Dodd, Mary Griffith, Jan Hunt, and just about every other person she interacted with at her first HSC Home=Education conference 6 years ago, as her inspiration to find a more natural way of living and learning with children.  She is a Homeschooling Consultant, offering support and guidance to families looking to clarify their vision as a family of learners.  You can read more of what Becky has to say at http://lifewithoutschool.blogspot.com   She can be reached at homeschoolconsultant@gmailcom.

Other People's Homework

by Becky

Flat Isabella arrived in the mail last Wednesday.  She fits in a manila envelope and doesn't take up much space, but truth be told, she's becoming a bit of a thorn in my side. 

Jeff Brown wrote a book called Flat Stanley over 40 years ago.  In the book, Stanley Lambchop is a boy who is flattened one night by a bulletin board which hangs over his bed.  Not to worry, however.  Stanley and his family are optimists and quickly find that being flat has it's advantages.  Foiling thieves, recovering lost items from the sewer, and visiting far away friends via the US Mail, are just a few of the perks Stanley discovers in his newly flattened state. 

Second grade teachers all across the nation have discovered that this book is a fun way to fit some geography into the curriculum.  Kids make flat versions of themselves and mail them to friends and relatives all over the world.  Willing recipients then cart Flat Fred or Flat Wilma around town for a few days, snapping photos and gathering information about their hometowns.  The photos and interesting tid-bits are then mailed back to the student in the form of a scrapbook.  Ta-Da!  Instant geography lesson.

Ten or twelve years ago, when I taught 2nd grade, I would have done a project like this.  I would have been all over it.  Geography, literature, art, social studies, math, all in one.  It's a teacher's dream.  It's fun, it's creative, it has potential relevance to the student's life.  Today on the other hand, living our life without school, I'm finding that this project is an unschooler's nightmare.

It's not that it's not fun.  It was fun the first day.  Now it's beginning to feel more and more like homework.  We've been asked to draw maps and take photos of points of interest and write paragraphs about noteworthy people from our town.  Yeeeuuuck.  The kids enjoy propping Flat Isabella up and posing for pictures.  That's about it.  They've read the story.  It's funny.  They get it, and they're ready to move on.  My experience is that unschooled kids aren't dazzled by unit studies and creative geography lessons the way schooled kids sometimes are.  This makes it a bit tricky when it comes to follow through. 

I'd love to impress my childhood friend (father of the real, live Isabella) and mail Flat Isabella back in a manila envelope filled with beautiful drawings, flowery paragraphs and intricate maps, photos and memorabilia from our town.  But if I did that, it would clearly be from me, not my kids.  My kids have never done homework.  They have no desire to do homework (who does?).  If I asked required them to complete this project, they would look at me like I had two heads.

The whole idea was for a 2nd grader from California to learn something about the lives of three kids in a small town in Oregon, from them, not their mother.  I'm not sure we can deliver that particular portion of the lesson.  I know I could.  The teacher in me gets all fired up.  I can picture the captions on the photos and the fun facts I would insert throughout.  But I've been unschooling too long now to tackle a project like this with the expectation that my kids will participate with energy and enthusiasm.  There are too many opportunities for learning in our regular, everyday lives for me to fabricate the teachable moments.   I know that, and my kids do, too.

Oh, I'm sure I will mail it back.  I won't bail completely, but I've also let go of the idea that this geography lesson for Isabella is some sort of lesson for my children as well.  We don't do it that way.  When it's time to assemble the scrapbook and mail her back, I'll sit down at the table with my glue stick, markers, and scissors.  Chances are, one or more of my three children will join me at some point. If they want to help, great.  If not, that's fine, too.  We'll have some fun.  We may even learn something.

Becky is the unschooling mother of three (Janey, 11, Macy, 9 and Charley, 7) attempting to raise her children with compassion and respect.  She taught elementary school for 9 years before discovering unschooling when it was time for her oldest to go to Kindergarten.  She credits Sandra Dodd, Mary Griffith, Jan Hunt, and just about every other person she interacted with at her first HSC Home=Education conference 6 years ago, as her inspiration to find a more natural way of living and learning with children.  She is a Homeschooling Consultant, offering support and guidance to families looking to clarify their vision as a family of learners.  You can read more of what Becky has to say at http://lifewithoutschool.blogspot.com   She can be reached at homeschoolconsultant@gmailcom.

Taking Off the Training Wheels

by Becky

When my son Charley was a little over 3 1/2, he woke up one day and told his dad it was time for the training wheels to come off.  Minutes later, Charley was riding his 2 wheeler down the street.  All by himself.  No one taught him.  No one told him it was time.  He decided he was ready, and he did it, just like that.  All by himself. 

Even though none of my three children have ever been to school, I feel like Charley (the youngest) is my one, true, unschooled-from-birth child.  When his sisters were little, I hadn't figured out this whole unschooling thing yet.  I was still "teacher-turned-mom-extraordinaire."  It was Janey, my oldest, who humbled me and taught me how to unschool when she was five and not thrilled about my new plan to be her Kindergarten teacher.

I have this theory that because Charley was born into a household fully committed to unschooling, he's had it a bit easier than the rest of us.  Yeah, I know.  There's birth order, and gender, and all that as well, but I'm sticking to my theory.  He just knows he can do stuff.  He's got self confidence in spades.

A few weeks ago, we went skiing.  Charley had been dying to learn to snowboard.  We are all skiers, and renting a snowboard and trying to teach him how to do something I have never done didn't sound like much fun.  Charley begged and pleaded.  I put him off and suggested we try that another day.  Charley had other plans.  At lunch, he bargained with a friend, and ended up trading gear.  It only took him 15 minutes of dragging the board up the gentle slope outside the lodge and sailing down, with only a handful of spills, to get the hang of it.  "I'm ready for the bunny hill, Mom,"   he declared.  Sure enough, he was.  As we stood in line to get on the chair lift, I chuckled to myself.  Here he was, once again, proving to the world that he could do it, all by himself.  As we rode up the chair lift, I asked him, "Charley, how did you know you could do that?"

"I dunno, Mom.  I just decide I'm gonna do something, and then I do it."

So true. 

The other day, it was time for us to leave for art class.  As I hitched the tag-a-long onto the back of my bicycle for Charley, he groaned.  "I'm tired of that baby-ish tag-a-long, Mom.  I'm ready to ride my own  bike."  I glanced over my shoulder and watched him back his bicycle out of the rack.  "Are you sure, Charley?  It's several miles, and you know we've got that hill at the end," I explained.  He glared at me.

"I know, Mom.  I'm ready."  And ready he was.  He decided he could do it, and he did.

I'm always amazed by his self-confidence, but really, it makes sense.  This is a child who has always been given the opportunity to choose.  He's never had it any other way.  His experience in life has always been that you find what you love, and you decide to do it, for no other reason except that it brings you pleasure.  That's the thing about these always unschooled kids.  They're not motivated by much outside themselves.  Great for them.  Frustrating at times for the rest of us.

One of my biggest challenges as an unschooling mom, is remembering to let go of my ideas of the way life should look.  All of my kids, and Charley, in particular, remind me daily that my way is only one of many.  Charley deciding he's done with riding on the back of my bicycle is exciting.  He's growing up.  But honestly,  it's also a bit of a hassle.  It takes us longer to get places now.  More patience is required from me as I coax him up hills and home from a long day of errands and classes.  But when I get irritable or frustrated with his newfound independence, I have to remind myself of why we're doing this in the first place.  It's all about independence.  It's all about self-reliance and trying new things.  It's not all about being on time, and it certainly isn't all about me.  Phew.

This unschooling life that we've chosen is full of challenges and gifts.  It's not that it's any easier or more difficult than a more traditional way of raising kids, it's just that it stretches me to remember why we're all here:  to grow, to love, to trust, and to find joy.

Becky is the unschooling mother of three (Janey, 11, Macy, 9 and Charley, 7) attempting to raise her children with compassion and respect.  She taught elementary school for 9 years before discovering unschooling when it was time for her oldest to go to Kindergarten.  She credits Sandra Dodd, Mary Griffith, Jan Hunt, and just about every other person she interacted with at her first HSC Home=Education conference 6 years ago, as her inspiration to find a more natural way of living and learning with children.  She is a Homeschooling Consultant, offering support and guidance to families looking to clarify their vision as a family of learners.  You can read more of what Becky has to say at http://lifewithoutschool.blogspot.com   She can be reached at homeschoolconsultant@gmailcom.