We received little colour-in cards in the mail this year, with 3 crayons and pre-stamped, addressed envelopes to get them back to the children who will be spending this year at the Vancouver Children's Hospital. Because we have a far away friend who has spent more than half of the past year regularly staying in a Children's Hospital (leukemia), this idea really touched Taliesin and Rhiannon, (they also remember me sending a box of art supplies to our friends, to entertain them and the other patients at their Children's Hospital) and they worked hard to create something truly lovely for the unknown children who might receive their cards, in Vancouver, this week. After creating the things they'd thought of (the coloured card, a maze for entertainment, and some silly Christmas song lyrics), we were packing everything up and Tali noticed the enclosed paper, suggesting that any cheques would, of course, be appreciated. I explained that the Children's hospital was always in need of money to help the children, but that this year we had given money to other causes, and that the cards, love and happiness for the children might be all we could send. Tali said without hesitation "but I mean my money. I can send mine!" And I said, "Oh no - that's not necessary. They'll be so happy already with the things you've made for them." He looked totally downtrodden, and said bitterly "I can't anyway, because I don't have any cheques. I wish I had cheques." His concern and desire was so genuine I was moved to tears, and told him that I was sure it would be OK, in this case, to enclose a piece of his treasured paper money in a little envelope within the card. I found some little envelopes, and he pulled a 5 dollar bill out of his piggy bank and happily folded it into the envelope. He had one 5 dollar bill leftover. Then Rhiannon wanted to follow suit with her card! But alas, she had no paper money, so Tali gallantly agreed to trade her his remaining bill for $5 in change, and she included it with her card. Both children were so proud of their gift, and of course, so were we grownups.
Then it became time to celebrate friends. We've had some of the children's closest friends to visit this week, including Kai and Hunter, whom they haven't seen for about 6 months. It's been a wonderful few days, full of love and gratefulness. A bit of crankiness developing in the evenings since they've totally worn themselves out with all this visiting, but SO very worthwhile. This is the first year that both children have continued to behave beautifully throughout December. I, too, am blessed. Merry Christmas!
Making Christmas presents.
Tali's collection of things for an unknown child at the Children's Hospital. (Zoom in to read the song he made up; we thought it would be just fine to send some 8-year-old humour to entertain a like-minded soul at the hospital.)
Rhiannon packs up her newly-acquired paper money. The note she wrote on the card says '123 blast to home!' It was her way of wishing whichever child receives this what she imagines they most want: to go home from the hospital.
Showing Uncle her creations.
6 months away, and within a few minutes of being here, Kai drifted over the cupboard where, since he was very very little, this set of Zoomorphs has lived. "Um... do you still have that game of dinosaurs?" Well of course we do!! It's here for you!! I've asked Tal numerous times to just give it to you, and each time he refuses, claiming that he loves it... but he only plays with it when you're here. We're glad to have something here that you feel so at home with, dear Kai.
Hunter, on the other hand, seems always at home being crazy with Annie.
Speaking of being at home... Ethan was so comfortable at our house that he refused to eat the ham I'd made and said that he doesn't eat meat. Tali was rather disappointed that one of his dearest friends was choosing vegetarianism when he regularly declares himself a carnivore or 'meat-a-tarian', but Ethan did not waver in his conviction. Apparently he's been heading this direction for quite a while. I was honoured and pleased with the whole event.
Here, Rhiannon, Samantha and Katherine play babies, and dancing party...
Some people call our beautiful wild Christmas trees 'Charlie Brown Trees". We think they're the opposite: totally beautiful, naturally-formed, healthy trees -- just the way healthy natural trees really look. And plus... because they are not pruned and shaped like farmed trees, they have room between the branches for ornaments, gifts, and candles. :-) This is how we always have it.
For the second year in a row our whole Bowen family got our trees from the neighbours' field, which seems to have sprouted its own little fir-forest. They're planning to clear this tiny forest again, so we're happy to take the loveliest fated trees off their hands. This year the kids suddenly took the notion to cut themselves mini-trees... and they did! They're both cedars, and Tali's is the naturally-deformed 'Dr. Suess' tree. They even completed them with self-made paper ornaments, and are extremely proud.
Then, after having decorated, we had a little eclipse party with Uncle Adrian, lit the big tree, and sung some carols together. This year was the first in over 500 when a full lunar eclipse happened on the winter solstice -- the concurrence of two returning-of-light events was too much not to celebrate! Our new-to-us (free) telescope unfortunately has a few broken parts, and was useless anyway with the heavy cloud-cover. (One day it will be great!!) This was also the first year that Rhiannon could read along in a carol book. It was hard to get her to stop! She was still loudly singing songs from the book at 1am when we gave up trying to see the eclipse through the clouds and headed back in to bed!
As usual, click to enlarge any of these you want to, and press back to return here.
(PS: That beautiful braided crown on Rhiannon was made Auntie Ginger!)
We're head-first-ploughing through the busiest month of the year, trying to find moments to consider the year(s) past and where we are, today; trying to feel hope for the future, too. Somehow the following four things came along, and have fed into that consideration of our lives, so I'm sharing them, here, knowing that many of you who read this blog are on a similar journey to ours, trying to find a meaningful, authentic way to live and raise children in a world that sometimes seems so contrary. Hopefully some of these are enlightening, interesting, or at least reassuring to you, too!
And some videos, too! Each of these two gems we've watched repeatedly; especially the second. The more you watch them, the more you see and learn and feel. Independently and together they say a lot about why we're unschooling, and the values we hold. They give us hope.
Alan Watts speaking about life as music:
Narayanan Krishnan's mission to feed and to love the ill and destitute:
Happy Midwinter, everybody. In the year's dark season we pull close to ourselves, our thoughts, our hopes and our fears; we remember the importance of light. It is the light we cherish in our hearths, the light we bring out into the world, but also that small beacon from within our own selves that keeps us going and burns through life's twists and turns; we take time to nurture that light, this month. We sit with that light in reverence or conversation or silence. In this place of compassion and awareness, may we hold dear the company of those we love as well as the gift of solitude, the reasons we've made the choices we have in our lives, and the beauty that is dancing the ups and downs of our lives, together.
Place-Based Imaginative and Ecological Education in Maple Ridge, BC
This is so close to us I can almost taste the cool of wholistic outdoor learning on my face! What WONDERFUL NEWS!!! (Too bad we don't live in Maple Ridge...)
Our learning community (the primary years) went on a field trip up Grouse Mountain. Markus lamented the fact that in all the years he's now lived near Grouse, he's never been up. So at the last minute he took the day off work and joined us! We were very in need of a family outing, and this was just the thing. It was beautiful. Here's our proof:
Grouse Mountain keeps three 'rescued' wolves. They were bred and raised for the movie industry, but proved unsuitable for whatever reason, and were moved to Grouse Mtn, where they now live in a 2-acre enclosure just above the main parking lot.
Snowshoeing across the groomed hillside to see the grizzly bears' enclosure, where they are currently not visible, since they're hibernating! You can, however, watch them on Grouse's live bear webcam.
Stop for snack...
Huh?
The kids all seemed to enjoy the hands-on bear workshop put on by Grouse Mtn. There were bear-skins, a stuffed cub (very sad; Grouse was given it by a person who found it at a garage sale; nobody knows how it died), a powerpoint presentation on how to identify different types of bears, their habitats, food, etc., and identification activities with paw-prints and skulls from different animals. It was a great break from the snow activities!
...not that we'd had enough playing in the snow, of course...
We and our friends stayed later for a visit with Santa Claus and some skating on the little outdoor ice-rink.
And we also visited these caribou... also known as two of Santa's reindeer who were visiting from the game farm, awaiting their jobs of pulling Santa's sled on Christmas Eve.
Markus and the kids gathered some lichen from nearby trees, and the reindeer approved.
It was a wonderful day. By the time we got home, we were exhausted, but happy, and somehow reconnected as a family. (Click this photo to see it larger, and then you'll see our view of Vancouver.)
Sinterklaas came to see us this year! He first went up to Opa and Nana's house to retrieve his staf, (and mentioned to us that he plans to leave it there every year, because it was rather handy, after all), then Opa brought him down to our house.
He didn't bring any Zwarte Piet, this year, so Opa helped out with his visit!
He was very friendly! He stayed and talked to each of the 7 children present, and seemed to know quite a lot about them all! He was a little too hot, and couldn't keep his tall hat on in our low-ceilinged house, though.
He wrote gedichtjes for each child. Some were very extravagant; others were a bit silly!
And Taliesin was finally brave enough to go up and talk to the good Sint, this year! Sinterklaas called him a girland for just a moment Taliesin said it made him wonder if this was the real Sinterklaas... then Sinterklaas said he was teasing, and Tali was reassured. We know that not all Santa Clauses in malls, etc. are the real Santas; they're good men who choose to do the work of Santa Claus for him: to bring joy to children... so it doesn't really matter that sometimes they are just men in costumes; they are still Santa in their hearts. However... as far as we know, Sinterklaas is still de enige echte.
Once a month our community has a Kitchen Junket, which basically is a gathering of musicians, poets, writers, and performers/revelers of every ilk, who gather to make musical merry. We love it. It is usually the most highly anticipated event of the month for our kids. The music begins at about 9PM, at the earliest! For our kids this is no big problem; being homelearners has given us the freedom to be late-risers, and therefore the kids generally stay up until 9 or 10. It's not much of a stretch to have a nap in the afternoon and stay up until 1AM, enjoying a junket. So we do this once a month! We treasure our flexible bedtimes, and the cultural and familial opportunities they create for us.
Unfortunately, our many young friends who'd also like to attend the junkets do not have such flexible sleeping schedules, and are rarely able to join us. No Problem!! Taliesin, Rhiannon and CJ have solved the problem! From now on, every time a junket happens, they'll hold their own "Kids' Junket" on the afternoon of the same day! Here is evidence of the first junket: November 19th, 2010.
Left to right: a violin being played leaning-cello-style with one hair from the bow, a mountain dulcimer being played the traditional way, and a ukulele being strummed like a lap dulcimer with a folder piece of paper. Our junkets are necessarily creative!!
I am certainly not unbiased. This is about my mother, and I think my mother is just excellent. She has devoted her life to children's development and welfare, has been a preschool teacher, a music therapist, and an infant development consultant, just to name her major careers. Now she teaches preschool once again on our Island, at our local (Reggio Emilia) Bowen Children's Centre. She brings not only great passion, dedication and concern to her work, but also the knowledge of an educated woman who has spent nearly 40 years learning about how children grow and thrive. And she cares.
Most parents do not have the background to know why our children behave and develop the way they do. There are doctors and therapists to help us with their bodies and specific issues, but even then, we often don't know when it's time to pay them a visit. My mother pointed out very early on that my daughter was having difficulty standing, and, because physical development is not her specialty, suggested we take her to an OT or Physiotherapist who specialized in infants. We did, and a few months down the road she was well on her way to having her hips facing the right direction. She's fine, now, thanks to an early intervention that I myself would never have known was needed.
So it's a treasure to have a teacher (and grandmother, in our case!) whose insights into our children can help us to help them more. Her explanations, especially about their intellectual, social and emotional development, have made clear many confounding situations we've faced.
Many parents have been surprised to hear that my children attended preschool, when I consider us to be unschoolers. Unschooling isn't about shunning the rest of the world; it's about giving our children the gift of freedom to follow their own paths and to nurture their own authentic selves. There is no better place to do that than in a preschool where they can engage in all sorts of various types of play with various different children, where their thoughts and experiences will be celebrated, encouraged and shared, and where they can learn to do all of this opening up to the world in a safe, supported way. Once upon a time, when my mother first taught here, the Bowen Preschool was called the Bowen Island Child Enrichment Centre. Doesn't that just sound so much like what we want for our children? Times change, and apparently the name did too, but that beautiful child-centred name still expresses the core of what the place is: A place to enrich our children's lives.
Not despite, but BECAUSE of being a wholehearted radical unschooler, I wish that all parents had the option of bringing their children to a preschool like ours (where, yes, parents are welcome and encouraged to stay), to engage their children in thoughtful, social activities with dedicated caring professionals and other children, and to learn as much as I have from these dedicated professionals. My mother is certainly not the only preschool teacher out there with a good education, a lot of experience, and an honest loving dedication to what she does. But too many people are unable to give their children the experience of a good preschool. I hope that, as our species matures, we will value infant development and the knowledge that could make us wiser parents and caregivers, enough that one day the excellent preschool teachers of the world will be lauded and supported for their truly essential gift to our future generations.
Every month during the school year, the Bowen Children's Centre puts out a newsletter, into which my mother, Lyn, pours her time, and considerable knowledge and experience, and usually this newsletter carries extremely valuable information for parents just learning how our children work. So I've decided that, once in a while, when it relates to things we're dealing with in our lives, I'll post her monthly article on this blog. You can view the original newsletter, here: (link to .pdf)
Understanding Play and Its Value
Lyn van Lidth de Jeude
As adults, we like to say that “Play is a Child‘s Work”, but what do children say? Generally, regardless of the activity, children say that “If they choose to do it… it’s play and if they are asked to do it… its work”.
“Quality play time” is play that is rich in child-initiated activity. These activities may be guided or enhanced by parents and educators, but the essential learning component is that they are the product of the child’s interests.
Child initiated play pays attention to the process of the play. It is not a means to an end.
Adult initiated play reduces a child’s opportunity to make rules and define the process.
Curiosity is driven by authentic questions and hands on learning. Authentic experience allows the child opportunity to predict, experience and evaluate. Children’s play grows and matures in a predictable way.
There are four play styles that early childhood educators use to define different styles of play among children. Play styles progress from one form to the next and all styles of play overlap with each other.
1) The first independent play of children is Solitary Play.
Solitary play (such as object play) allows the child to investigate, make discoveries and builds a cognitive structure of understanding which supports other styles of play.
Once a child is able to play alone he/she will begin to watch the play of other children, especially those of a similar age or developmental level.
2) Observational Play (i.e. one child watching another play) builds a social understanding on which a child may begin interaction with others.
3) Parallel Play (two children playing the same game, side by side with little interaction except to exchange toys) allows a child to use the skills gathered in solitary and observational play to prepare for social integration. Parallel play scaffolds children into socially co-operative play.
4) Complex Socio-Dramatic Play (interactive role play between children) allows children to rehearse social activities and refine social skills such as how to join a group and how to accept a delay in personal gratification. This style of play is the type of play that most adults remember from their own childhood.
Although Physical Play is not generally considered a play style it has a unique and important role. Physical play enhances children’s understanding of their bodies as they work to master skills (such as hanging on the overhead ladder and kicking a ball). They watch others engaged in similar physical activities to help them understand technique and work together with other children toward organized physical games (such as catch and tag). For many children the kinaesthetic nature of their play makes this the most effective avenue for learning.
In Early Childhood centres that offer daycare and preschool, children learn from their natural activities in an adult organized environment. Children in this environment develop a social understanding of their role, their abilities and their power as they begin to understand what is in the minds of others.
What is the Adult’s Role?
To be a listener and documenter
To provide appropriate materials at the right time
To allow that all ideas are improvable and unfinished
To give voice to the child’s experience and learning
Authentic play is an indicator of a child’s health and well-being. Play and learning are one and the same thing and cannot be separated as play is truly how children learn.
Our friends Genevieve and Lorne supplement their regular careers as massage therapist and singer/songwriter by working at Richmond Country Farms' pumpkin patch every October, so this year we finally went out to see. Obviously the kids had a fabulous time. I think definitely the tent full of straw for building forts and just throwing at each other was the biggest hit! As usual, though... Rhiannon was most captivated by the mascots. She hugged them with abandon, and even got up to dance with them! Those musicians on the wagon are Lorne (left) and also Gary Comeau, who we've seen performing on a few occasions with his Voodoo Allstars.
On October 25th, the day the Cohen Commission began proceedings in Vancouver, Alexandra Morton led a heartful delegation of wild salmon supporters into Vanier Park by canoe, ending their Fraser River journey from Hope to Vancouver. Then they and others walked up to the Vancouver Art Gallery, where we joined them to walk down Georgia to honour the Cohen Commission's work at its offices... then back to the Art Gallery for the many speeches and songs. It was a wonderful, spirited gathering, in the pouring rain, and wonderful to know there is so much support for wild salmon.
A couple of other homeschool families from Bowen were there, too, as well as a bunch of other Bowen people! How nice for us to feel so in community!
The Raging Grannies were there, too!
The snippets in the following video are just a very little bit of what went on; unfortunately we were inside the Art Gallery for a kids' hand-warming and toilet break when Alexandra Morton actually spoke, so I didn't get any footage. Also terrible quality is the footage I did get... but that's testament to the great crowd that was there. :--)
Thanks to Heather, who initiated, planned, and made happen this fabulous day. We had fun. Definitely check out the video of the bubbling potions. The kids (and mothers) followed some recipes for specific reactions, but then just freely experimented with the ingredients, to create their own magical solutions. Seeing the effects of chemical interaction, and pouring, feeling, mixing, and tasting(!) with their own hands is the best learning available!!
What can we get from art?
When we experience art as an open-ended, non-coercive, self-directed joy - as play and experimentation with idea and material - we open ourselves to create from our souls outward. In this creation we open our minds to deep understanding of art, of humanity, of process, and of every "subject area" in the world. When we leave behind the boundaries of our expectations for an undefined end-result; when we abandon learning "art skills" and embrace the process of exploration, we learn more. And happily, the products that come in the end will not fit the molds we've come to recognize. Instead we'll find our own, new forms, and their uniqueness and beauty will embody all that is wonderful in our souls. The paths we forge in our creative freedom will lead our journeys for creative learning in all areas of our lives.
Great artists do not come from great training; they come from inspired creative souls who dare not to follow directions. This is passionate self-directed learning! This is life!
Today, take a handful of random materials and see how creative you can be! There is no wrong way to express yourself!
Watching a demonstration of broom-making at the fabulous broom shop on Granville Island.
Harvesting horse chestnuts to keep the spiders out of our house! This is an annual tradition, for us. We have discovered that older chestnuts are less effective than fresh, so in chestnut season we get rid of all the little stashes of old chestnuts and gather a massive heap of new, to nestle into the corners and woodbox, etc. We have a lot of hobo spiders in our house, due to the firewood we bring in nearly every day, so this chestnut thing is an important part of our lives!
Playing with the beautiful metallic sculpture in Vanier Park. We saw this sculpture when it was partly finished, last year. The transformation from lumpy rod with what looked like tied-on garbage ... to shiny watery-looking beauty was amazing!
Ethan, Taliesin and Rhiannon hard at work with one of their favourite activities: "mining"! This particular "mine shaft" is now about 3 feet deep! There is an equally deep one into the side of the bank, behind Rhiannon!
This tiny salamander is one of the exciting finds from the mine. Taliesin made it a little hole in the bank with some vegetation and an exit, in case it might like to hibernate, there.
Just added Banskyfilm to the links. So excellent. :-)
I'm still debating (yes, after all these years) whether the links should be sorted, or whether they should even be there at all. I sorted them because I thought it made it easier to look through, but it seems to defy our theory -- that all learning is cross-pollination-learning, and you can't really learn just one subject area at a time. I don't believe in subject areas. It seems so contrary to the way we learn, and the way our brains work. But then how to make the long list of links more easily traversable? Then when I think of it, I begin to wonder if they should be there at all. If you've ever found that list useful, add a quick note here. If a few months go by and nobody mentions it, I might dispense of it.
It also implies that these things should be learned online. I do a lot online with my kids (OK... a few hours/week), but certainly don't think it can take the place of in-person experience.
I sure spend a lot of time debating on this blog, don't I? Oh well... a healthy debate (even with oneself) is useful, right?
About 17 years ago, now, I nervously went in to teach my very first class. I had been hired by a couple of parents to teach their young children art. I was 17. I was terrified. I don't remember what I asked the first girl I spoke to, but I will never forget her answer: "I can only draw angels." She pulled out a pen and paper and drew some patterned "angels" -- a whole row of them! I was heartbroken to hear her limit herself that way, and wanted nothing more than to show her that she could be free from her angels. It was at that moment that I became an art teacher. Thank you, Sarah.
I came to my views on open-ended art naturally. My mother is a music therapist and Reggio Emilia preschool teacher at Bowen Island Preschool and my father owns BC Playthings toy store, where he promotes child-centred activity and natural toys. In both this preschool and this toy store, colouring books are not allowed. And furthermore, every person I have taught or worked with has driven the idea that open-ended learning is essential deeper into my being.
Not only is open-endedness essential for creativity, but the ability to creatively explore is essential for learning anything! A teacher-directed activity implies that the teacher knows best, while self-directed learning implies that the learner's thoughts and actions are most valuable. As soon as those thoughts or actions lose perceived value, the learner loses interest, and the desire to explore and learn begins to slip away. Some people are very attached to following instructions, but I feel this is a result of lack of confidence, or even of failure to measure up. Then we have to remind ourselves: if we are only looking to measure up, then how can we ever reach our true potential, which may very well be higher than up, or simply in a different direction? We have to give ourselves the freedom to go in any direction, to go where our authentic selves will naturally go.
The importance of self-direction in learning also has little to do with age. This is why I often choose to use the term self-directed over child-directed or child-centred; I believe this applies to people of all ages. People of any age will learn more when they are inspired to explore; the only change that comes with age is that many of us have our independence squashed as we grow up. That doesn't mean it's gone. It's just in need of some nourishment. Give a born-and-raised Canadian adult a handful of mosaic squares, some glue and a piece of paper, and she will likely begin gluing the squares into some recognizable shape or pattern. Give them to my unschooled six-year-old, and she might fold them into tiny "origamis" and decorate herself with them. She would make a potion with the glue, and use the paper to wrap up her sorted stacks of coins, in case she might one day want to take them to the store, and then it might be handy to have them sorted (this happened, today). Maybe she'd just glue the squares one on top of the other, on the back of her own hand, and call it a wart. It's not a project; it's just what she's doing: exploring. I feel that one of my most important responsibilities as a parent and teacher is to avoid squashing that creativity with my own ideas and expectations.
So what if people ask for help to reach a specific end-result? With some things like origami I've created an example, following directions, and then experimented with it, to see how I could create my own unique product, thereby giving students the freedom to be unique, as well. I'm just like they are: experimenting with somebody else's technique. Often the outcomes of my experiments aren't what I've hoped for, and this is part of the journey. Other times I supply a range of alternatives, and suggest that perhaps a combination of these methods or materials might yield interesting results. Then we all get to experimenting, together.
It isn't ever up to me, as the teacher (or parent) to know the answers, because how could I possibly know everything? Then the best thing students could strive for is to know what I know, and really, that would be unfortunate. I'm just not that knowledgeable. I sincerely hope that every person I teach reaches his/her own personal goals that have nothing to do with me. My 8-year-old son already understands much more than I do about physics -- thank goodness! But that doesn't stop me from taking his journey with him. What I know is how to say "wow -- show me how that pneumatic thingy you designed works!" My role as a teacher (as I see it) is to help people find their own creativity and desire to learn. That's it! Sometimes it seems there will never be an end to the adults who come to my classes, wanting me to impart my artist-skills to them, and to whom I hope I have instead opened a door to finding their own skills. (Not to mention the many skills and much wisdom that I glean from them...)
Unschooling Outtake: Or what if, in her free reign of art-making, my 6-year-old decides to cut up my precious handmade clothing, paint books with jam, or decorate my furniture and dishes with acrylic paint or glued on "fairy-paintings"? Well, then... I cry. Oh well. Lesson in guarding/respecting personal property -- check!
Rhiannon is busy being her usual inspired self, getting ready for her birthday party (it was postponed, due to her parents' flu, and bad weather) and otherwise entertaining herself with heaps of little useful tidbits: plans, drawings, stickers to sell for money, songs and dances to perform, worksheets of wizard-making, math practice and dot-to-dots for grownups to complete, and her latest greatest pastime: handwritten stories. I shall transcribe one for you:
a sdoree abowt bers
hie I'm a ber I liv in the forist and I liv in the laks
I sdoMP arouwnd in the forist and I SPlash and swiM in the woter
I [heart] Too sdoMP and swiM the mowst
and this is Mee dwing wan av mie favrit things [drawing of bear stomping in water]
Tal is also up to his usual business: lots of digging in his 'mine', which now has a large vertical shaft at the entrance about 4 feet deep, which is ostensibly in order to find precious stones, but actually turns up wildlife, instead (beetles, frogs, and a salamander). He's re-interested in his violin, since beginning some mentoring with our local violin-maker, and he's constantly exploring physics, biology, and chemistry, again. It seems amazing to me that, without my coercion, the kids follow their own desires quite naturally, and end up in the right places, mostly of their own devices. I help Tal with his internet searches, and to put some search results together into understanding, but mostly his scientific journeys are already beyond my scope of knowledge, so I just follow him on his way. Today we found a little scrap of paper with some detailed technical drawings on it (not at all unusual), and asked him what it was. Well... of course! It was different types of hydraulic systems he had invented! Nothing is more natural, of course. We have hundreds of scraps of paper like this.
Every time I see something like this, I delight in the fact that, although our adventures haven't taken us this far, yet, we have allowed ourselves the possibility to be wild, in our choice to unschool the kids. Check out this father and son team who sent a video camera into space. So inspiring!
Oh these past few weeks have been difficult, and I promised myself I wouldn't make this blog all about how great it is to be homelearners. I promised myself I'd be real about it, no matter how much criticism may come my way for the choices we've made.
My kids are being ostracized because we're homelearners.
Yes. It's true. It's the number one concern most people have when they find out we're homelearners: "Well how will they develop any social skills?" Some say it with alarm in their faces; others say it with a tone of gentle warning, others imply a deep emotional concern. All of them mean well. And I always assure people that my kids are doing just fine; that they participate in a weekly class for homelearners on the island, and also a few classes with their peers. And of course they have many play dates. Some people tell me they spend too much time together; it's not natural, or they'll grow to hate each other, or they'll resent me for it, etc.
So now, here we are, feeling like the last ones picked for the team. The team is running away and we don't qualify.
Our local homelearning support program has two options: the half-time program (2.5 days per week of classroom activity, to be supplemented at home), or the distance-education program, which offers us enough money to cover a couple of class-registrations for the year, if we're careful about what we choose, and 2 hours of classroom (art and play) experience with their distance-ed peers. This would be great, except that my two kids happen to have no peers in the distance-ed group. My oldest is 1.5 years younger than the youngest of the other distance-ed kids, and the gap just increases from there. What that means is that my kids have little contact with the other distance-ed kids. They visit mostly with the kids in the classroom program, because those kids are of similar ages. And in small groups, some of these kids are very close and friendly with mine. They've maintained some precious relationships with kids in both the regular public school, here, and with the classroom homelearners.
But it's with groups that the problems begin. These days, the play with groups of those kids seems to be becoming more and more adversarial. It's natural that those children will adhere to their school-group when it's available, but I would have liked for my kids to be included. Instead, they seem to be a separate little 2-person unit that cannot mix with the others. Even if they understand the game that's being played, the other kids often behave as if they're not there. At worst, we have experiences like yesterday, when my two kids were taken to the centre of a labyrinth by the others, labeled "the bad team", and shot at with "invisible arrows", while they were encouraged to defend themselves by throwing sticks back. My kids played along, came home totally wound up and ready to fight (they fought each other viciously and angrily all evening, which is extremely unusual). My kids had never experienced anything like this before, and it was a pretty difficult issue for us to deal with, partly because they don't understand that it was wrong. They told me they felt OK about being "the bad team"... but the emotional consequences of it were impossible to miss. It's just not OK with me, as a parent, to see any children villianized or victimized in that way.
Of course, we can't really expect 6-8-year-olds to understand about inclusion, so it's up to us parents to help out. I have been trying to find a way for my kids to join for an hour or two of the classroom kids' program, so that they can have that shared experience and take it with them into the rest of their lives, hopefully helping them to mesh with the group a little better. Unfortunately, some parents (I emphasize the some because I am aware that it is only a small number of the whole) would rather we didn't join. The biggest reason, as I understand it, is that parents do not want a class-size increase. It seems unfortunate, to me, since it's not a big deal to have two friends there for an hour or two, but I can understand how some might fear it's a slippery slope to having more homelearners want to join, if one day there were more homelearners of this age.
But this is what really irks me: Suddenly people go out of their way to remind me on a regular basis that we are not part of the group. Shortly after the labyrinth incident, yesterday, I stood with some friends (parents from our centre) watching our children at gym class. Most of the kids in the class are from the classroom program. And one parent - a friend and mother of kids who attend the classroom program - mentioned that the kids in the gym class were mostly kids from our centre, but there were also a few kids from the regular school, and a couple of homelearners. Are my kids not part of that centre, too? They think they are! I felt the way I think my kids might have felt in the middle of that labyrinth, and I stood frozen to the spot, unwilling to pick up sticks and throw them back. Then I just walked away into the forest.
In my heart I know that these comments come from a different perception about what our learning centre is: I think it's a resource and support centre for homeschoolers; others seem to increasingly see it as a sort of part-time alternative school. The word school would never describe what I see as the benefit of the centre. These people don't mean to be hurtful, but the ostracizing, as well as my perceived loss of what once was an ideal social support centre for our unschooled children does hurt.
I decided to look for mushrooms. I walked and walked and walked through the forest behind the mainstream public school that I attended as a child, remembering my childhood, and allowing myself to just feel. Feel without fighting. At last I came to the Alder grove, where I found a Jones bottle cap on the ground. I picked it up. It said "solutions will come to you while you are walking". Since no solution presented itself, I continued walking.
Through the Alder grove there is a little path onto a secluded bluff. This is where I spent most of my grade 5 and 6 lunch hours, hiding. I hid on this bluff, and nobody ever came. I often wondered if I just wandered away and never went back to school, would anybody think to look here? I picked huckleberries and salal, there, and considered them my private garden. I wrote poems in my head, and made sculptures out of sticks, rocks, and moss. The bluff is hardly changed, today. As I explored it, I found a few bits of lunch garbage, and a structure built of logs. Kids are still using this special place - maybe in groups or maybe alone; I don't know and it doesn't matter. No solutions came to me, but somehow the pieces of my feelings fell into place.
I've been agonizing over this for a long time, now. Teachers and some other parents have worked very hard to help me find ways to include my kids. I've thought of endless possible solutions, but all of them have flaws. It wasn't until tonight, when I emailed the message from the bottle cap to a friend, that I found my solution. In reply to my bottle cap story, she sent me this:
11-year-old Birke Baehr talks about "What's Wrong with our Food System" (just over 5 minutes long):
Thank you, Birke, for your wonderful speech. Thank you for having the guts to present it, and to decide to be a farmer - yes, we need farmers, but mostly we need children who have been allowed to follow their passions. Thank you for the person who cheered when Birke said he was homeschooled. Thank you for reminding me that sometimes parents follow our hearts because we just have to. And sometimes it is right for our children. What I realized when I watched this video was that I have forgotten to listen to my children. They are not telling me they're unhappy! It's me who's afraid that they'll end up on the bluff. I'm not afraid for them; I'm afraid for 10-year-old me. And sometime, I have to let that go.
This is not a me vs. the other parents situation. It's just part of my journey. We all do what's right for our kids. My friend has her kids in the classroom program, and I have mine in the distance ed program, and we both know that, for now, we're doing what's right for our families.
We came back today from an adults' ballet class, (which my kids are allowed to join for the barre segment), and from Tali's first private music mentoring session with our local violin-maker. We felt wonderful! Yesterday was really very difficult. Today was redeeming. This is where we are meant to be. Oh, of course we'll continue to try integrating the kids, more; I still think it's important. And hopefully in November the kids will be able to do a little bit of classroom activity with the program's excellent science teacher and some of their friends. That will be nice, if it works out. These difficulties with my kids being ostracized are not great, but I know they'll sort themselves out, over time. That's just what happens.
And if my kids do end up on the proverbial bluff? OK! It's part of who I am, and better for being acknowledged. We'll cross that bridge if we get to it. And solutions will come with walking. :--) (See previous post: Wandering Learning.)
