Bullying: Calling It What It Is

Local homelearners from toddlers to teens (and parents too!) on a farm tour.

Bullying is coming up a lot on our island, recently. Well it's been coming up a lot in general these past few years, as people try to name, recognize and slay the thing that is plaguing them. But I don't believe in "bullies". That's just a way to force an 'us-and-them' situation where there isn't one. I think we have to let go of the need to distance ourselves from this unfortunate reality of social interaction, and accept that we are all capable and culpable of behaviours that are anti-social.

Bullying in schools is where the discourse generally is centred. My opinion is that, while assault, harassment, bullying, and other social problems are a part of every society, they are more common when giant groups of children are lumped into enormous facilities where there cannot possibly be a balance of adults to children, or a truly encompassing celebration and inclusion of the natural uniqueness of individuals. Balance of adults to children: Children learn by watching. If 90% of their peers are their own age, then 90% (approx) of what they learn will come from those peers, and the small amount of observed adult behaviour they experience will not balance that out. In a truly mixed-age setting, kids get to see adults and older children learn to deal with difficult situations. Questions can be answered by people with more experience, instead of by similarly-aged peers trying to climb ahead on the same social ladder. While schools try to mitigate the problems that arise from the impossible situation they are presented with, it simply can't be resolved as long as the root cause (unbalanced ages and an atmosphere of competition) exists. Celebration and inclusion of individual uniqueness: How can we possibly celebrate uniqueness in a system where many kids are required to learn the same things, and those who fail to do so are given lower grades? This is the atmosphere of competition I'm referring to. Testing, grading, and PLO's are by nature pathways to competition; children feel inadequate if they don't make the grade. And consequently, when they feel inadequate, they flip this spectrum to their advantage, socially, and make those who do make the grade feel ashamed. And this is without all the rewards and punishments that are commonly placed on those same kids by teachers and parents with limited resources to coerce the children to comply.

But it's not the people who are flawed! It's the system they've chosen to work with! And yes, I say "chosen" because it IS a choice. And some of us have opted out.

I have two children. They learn together, in that they live in the same house. Sometimes they choose to learn or even study the same things, but often they don't. And because they are teaching themselves (seeking and accessing resources with decreasing help from me, as they grow), they have the option to learn what and how they want to. They really can be unique individuals, and because nobody is requiring them to learn from a pre-set curriculum, they can learn in their own individual ways. Of course they have many friends who attend schools (both large and small schools), but they arrange their activities and time with those friends as it fits their own needs, and often this includes medium-sized groups of multiple ages. From this lifestyle, they have learned not only that people of all ages and uniquenesses have something valuable to offer them, but also that they are valuable, themselves.

I think the notion of "public system" needs to go. There's a perception that it's up to the government to provide for us and for our children. When we give up the privilege of providing for ourselves, we commit ourselves to what the government can do within the means it allots to education. And that's not much. Providing for ourselves gives us both freedom and a feeling of self-worth.

When I graduated from University, I heard my Mum say to somebody else: "When she graduated from highschool that was meaningful to me because that was my work. She did this herself." I've never forgotten the depth of meaning in those words.

Myths that it took me a long time to come to terms with: A lot of people like the idea of getting out of the system, but they're afraid that they can't replicate it at home for their children. But Thinking that replicating the system is getting out of it is a problem! That's why a radical shift is needed. We were raised in the system so it's difficult to break our system-thinking and realize that learning is possible without coercion, curriculum, and pre-determined outcomes. But my experience by now has shown me that it's not only possible - it's better. And it's necessary.

Finances: Of course, financially it's hard for people with 9-5 jobs to stay home with their kids... but maybe if more of us were doing it, then more of us would be able to swap childcare when the kids are young, work fewer days, and adjust to a lower income. My husband and I have given up a lot of income to unschool our kids, because I have chosen to stay home with them, and he has insisted with any job, that his family comes first and he ALWAYS comes home for dinner. However, we've gained much more than we've sacrificed in that we've stayed true to our goals, and our kids are happy. I may never own a home, but my kids' happiness has always been most important to me. And this lifestyle has allowed me to relax, too. That's better for my health! So why, exactly, do we need schools or a 'system'?

Bullying is not (in my opinion) solvable by just being angry about it, "calling it what it is", or making a big deal of it -- all those things just lead to punishment, and we know how far that goes. "Bullying" is what happens when people try to make the best for themselves but are not privy to the social tools and feeling of community or self-worth that begets compassion. "Bullies" don't bully; everybody bullies, and until we recognize that people making harmful social choices are equal and equally deserving of compassion, then we will be nowhere.

I tell my children (even when it applies to my own not-so-stellar behaviour) that when someone says something unkind, it is likely that they are just upset with themselves. If we can't figure out how to help them with their upset, then at least we can feel compassion instead of hurt. This isn't always easy to do, especially when the hurtful words still sting, or a threat still looms, but in my experience it is the only path to freedom.

I think the only solution to 'bullying' is to start calling it what it is: humanity. And then we can move towards an actual systemic change. I also think that change is coming whether we as a society recognize it or not. Some of us are just making the leap earlier, with joy, instead of waiting until there's no choice.

What is Advertising Doing to Our Children?

Great film to watch with kids. Mine loved it!


And this one is not so amazing, but interesting, anyway. I'm so glad my kids are not Disney fans!!

Why Unschooling is Great for Teenagers

... and why teenagers are great for our evolution.

David Suzuki has done it again! Although this fabulous episode of the Nature of Things never mentioned unschooling, it doesn't take much of a leap to get from the concepts in this documentary to the obvious conclusion that giving teens ample room to explore their passions (with a loving family to support and rescue them!) is a very very good thing both for the teens, as well as for humanity's evolution.

Surviving :) the Teenage Brain
http://www.cbc.ca/player/Shows/Shows/The+Nature+of+Things/ID/2188547727/

Over-Parenting: Are we helping or harming our kids?

Documentary Recommendation: Hyper Parents and Coddled Kids
(Link at the end of this post.)
Markus and I watched this documentary this evening, and it brought up a lot of questions and considerations for us.

We try so hard to let our children know that (almost) anything they may choose to do with their lives is acceptable to us, but is that just another form of coddling? When my son tells us he wants to go to university early - and preferably MIT - we tell him that we can't afford to send him there, but that maybe he can look into UBC. Now, because he's 10 and we've never sent him to school at all, yet, we're looking for an assessment for him so he can prepare for his goal of getting into university early... are we allowing him to set his goals too high? Are we setting him up for failure? Should we encourage him to experience failure?

My daughter wrote a blog she called the "Economy of Joy" and actually did a huge amount of work on researching and developing her ideas. Then she just abandoned it and wanted to write about her life, instead, and stories for other kids to read. And I said - yes, I actually said - well you have subscribers on your Economy of Joy blog; don't you think you should continue that, too? Oh my goodness, Emily! She was a 7-year-old girl! Is her responsibility to her blog readers more important than her whim? Of course not!!

We feel we have to balance the risk of becoming "helicopter parents" with the risk of not helping enough. (These are my husband Markus' words.) Where are the answers? We want them to feel inspired and fulfilled, and therefore spend every penny we make trying to support their interests. Should we pull the kids out of their programs? They may not go to school, but they take dance, private music lessons, art, wilderness exploration, and theatre classes. Soon we'll add electronics mentoring to the mix for our son. And to make matters worse, there is now such a thing as a "standing play date" -- when did this come into existence?! This means that our kids have the blessed opportunity to be assured of visiting each other once a week! Well... that is... once a week except when that standing play date time gets usurped by a special meeting or performance from one of the paid-for weekly activities...

When I was a kid I just went home with somebody, after school, some days. And sometimes I even called my Mum to tell her where I was. Sometimes I just met somebody partway home from school, and we'd build forts in the woods or catch frogs or roll old tires around. I didn't have to have my parents plan it weeks ahead of time! I've tried to encourage my kids to phone friends for visits, but they are met with busy schedules and requests from the friends' parents to speak with me and organize something for a later date.

When I was 10 I was often home alone for a few hours while my mother was out, and really it was normal at the time. Last week I decided to leave my 10-year-old son home alone for 2 hours while I went to babysit the current show at the local gallery, and I left him these simple instructions: "Just please stay home and don't do anything dangerous." After his rather brutal Swiss Army Knife injury last spring, I suspected he'd learned his lesson and would keep safe while nobody was there to help him.

I went to the gallery, and I did not call him. Until my nerves got the better of me. Which, by the way, was a full 10 or so minutes into my sitting of the gallery. No answer. Could he be ignoring the phone? No! I called again. No answer. Could he have gone outside? It's OK, Emily. Don't worry. He'll be safe. Maybe if I just call many times in a row, then he'll know I'm worried and come answer the phone... No answer again. And again. I called at least every 20 minutes for the full two hours, and also tried calling my parents' house (which is beside ours), in case they had seen him and could just confirm that he was still safe and living. No answer there, either. Well... of course they might not be home. I called my sister in law to see if she might just pop by and check on him, but... no answer there either.

By the time my gallery shift was up I was in such a panic that I did not stop for the dinner groceries, but went directly home and into the door, calling his name. I nearly tripped over a very prominently set-up box, upon which he had written "I went out. To the medow." in very large letters. I ran to the meadow. I ran all over the nearby park, telling people I met on the way to please send home my sweet long-haired son if they saw him, calling him in every way he might hear, and checking the ground under likely climbing-trees for unconscious children. By the time I ran home again I was out of breath and clenching the worst knot of tears and dread, and just nauseous from fear. I passed my Pappa in his garden, and he called out nonchalantly, as if he knew exactly what I needed to hear, "Tal's at our house; we just had lunch."

I ran to "Opa and Nana's house", where the gently dramatic sounds of synthesized-pipe-organ were streaming from my son's little fingers, and my Mum met my stricken face with a confused smile: "Are you OK?"

"No!" No I wasn't OK at all, although my son clearly was, and I burst into the most terrible tears. The pipe-organ ceased and my son came to my rescue. He gave me a big hug and I apologized - through sobs - for crying. "It's not your fault. I'm so glad you're OK. Don't worry. I'm sorry..."

And once I'd calmed down he looked very plainly at me and said. "I'm sorry Mama. I left you a note but I guess I should have updated it after I got home again."

Oh no, Tal. It's not you who needs to be sorry. It's me.
But I'm working on it.
Here's the documentary, on CBC. I highly recommend it: http://www.cbc.ca/player/Shows/Shows/Doc+Zone/ID/1405930535/

Desperate Times

Disclaimer: I am completely qualified to write about this in the same way that everybody is entitled to an opinion. I'm not claiming any moral, educational, or societal high-ground, here, but this matters to me so I'm saying it. I do welcome your comments and criticisms.

In her Huffington Post article, Fixing Our Schools, Not Drugging Our Kids, Lisa Belkin writes:

I left the room thinking, If the ways of a classroom don't work for more than 50 percent of the students, then the problem isn't with the kids, it's with the system.

In the same way, if the ways of the school system doesn't work for a subset of children that have to turn to medications to fit in, isn't the problem with that system, not with the children?

Of course it is. And that is the easy question. Next: what are we -- as parents, as educators and as society -- going to do about it?

This article is a reaction to Alan Schwarz' NY Times article, Attention Disorder or Not, Pills to Help in School. But while obviously the increasing prevalence of chronically medicated kids (I know quite a few myself) is an issue in our society, I think the problem, as Belkin states, is far deeper than that. So how can we solve it?

Tal and his friend Ethan at our weekly (F)unschool outing, where we go out in the world and learn about everything. This is due to the open conversation policy: We talk about everything that comes up. No holds barred. And we do it in the rich and fascinating wilderness where life's issues play out in real time.

My feeling is that although many of us turn to homeschooling and unschooling as a solution for our children, it simply isn't a good permanent fix for the problem. We're just removing them from the system and in many cases trying to replicate various parts of it at home, with far fewer resources. Yes, we manage to keep them safe from a lot of the societal flaws that are often accentuated when giant groups of kids are kept all day in institutions with little-to-no adult or real-world influence, but because of our culture's taboos and prudish (yet really quite raunchy in the back corners) way of life, we still can't include them in our life. Few people can practically bring their children to work. So many arts and culture events are serving alcohol (and therefore designated 19+) that the options for children are limited*. And let's face it. A lot of our 'adult' pastimes are so repugnant that we would never want our children to witness them. So why are we doing these things? Why? Why can't we feel fulfilled by creativity, social engagement, and any other activities that we would be proud to bring our children to?


I am not trying to malign the teachers and administrators who, for the most part, work tirelessly with often frustrating shackles and genuinely difficult problems to overcome. And yes, I am aware that various school boards across our continent are endlessly trying out new programs to administer something better to the children whose lives are in their hands. Oh -- did I say administer? Well fancy that. So I did.

But we have to do better. Much much much better. And it can't come within the current system.

What we really need is a complete societal change; a shift in the way we view our interactions with children. We need to see them not as vessels to be filled, nor as forms to be molded, nor less competent people to be 'cared for', but as valuable and essential contributors to what we generally consider our 'adult world'.

When we separate their world from ours, or give them objects, input, and experiences that are geared for children (or 'youth') then are we really giving them a foundation that enables them to be integral to our society? Are we giving them a way in or teaching them that they are not welcome? When we exclude kids from our world, then how can they learn the values we hope to pass on? Or is the truth that we are not living the life we hope they inherit? And if not, why not?

It really would take a massive change in the way we live for us to be able or willing to welcome our children as part of our society. But it's about bloody time we did.

*As an aside, my family is apparently featured in a new film which we would have loved to bring the children to. One of the producers called us and invited us to come see the film. He told me that my family, and especially my daughter, feature in one of the most heartwarming segments of the film, and he hopes we enjoy it. The Occupation premieres this weekend. But guess what? It's at the Rio Theatre. They're serving alcohol. And the kids can't go.

The Man Who Planted Trees

Throughout my childhood, I assumed this was a true story. It's not. But it's so epic; so important; so fundamentally right, that maybe somehow in the mythos of our culture, it can still achieve something of truth in our hearts.

Click here to watch The Man Who Planted Trees on Vimeo

Are Homeschooled Kids Weird?

I currently host a weekly teen drawing group at my studio, which of course includes Tal, since drawing is one of his passions, and he's finally a bonafide pre-teen. They're not all homeschooled, but definitely a bunch of free-spirited and creative kids (no wonder, when you remember they love art enough to ask their parents to put them in this rather quirky and serious mentoring situation). This is what makes the group such a success - open-minded kids and a willingness to explore.

And mostly, they make me happy.

Here's a photo from yesterday's drawing group. I had the kids sitting opposite each other working with charcoal to explore the lines and shadows of each other's faces in their sketchbooks. I suggested they try drawing with their fingers instead of straight charcoal sticks.

The boy on the left is 13; Tal is the youngest, at 10 and there were 3 girls sitting around the table, as well. And I said "you don't necessarily need to be drawing a whole face; you could just play with it. Like only work with the nose, for example."

And the boy on the left said "Only draw with our nose?"

To which I of course smiled, and said "whatever you like!" And he did. And so did Tal. Great hilarity and smudging of charcoal ensued, and they made lovely portraits of each other, while some of the girls looked on, perplexed, and one created the blackest hands possible. The boys discovered that chins are a particularly useful drawing tool to get the texture of hair. This was only this group's second drawing session, but I can see we're going to do fabulous things!!


Then this morning I was sent this article from a fellow homeschooling parent: "Are Homeschooled Kids Weird?"


It's a great, simple article, and I do think it's an important subject. My son is no stranger to criticism, having chosen to wear his hair long and loose throughout his life. It's mostly adults who malign him for it; kids just mistake him for a girl and then apologize when they're corrected. Adults often tell him he should cut his hair or actually refuse to believe he's a boy (yes! multiple times!). So he's exceedingly careful how much of his weirdness he lets show. My daughter, on the other hand, is totally unbridled in her creativity, going shirtless in the city, taking giant flailing leaps in her Irish dancing class, while everyone else stands stiffly at attention, and flatly telling her friends about the various social conventions that just don't concern her. I love that she's proud of her uniqueness, but this isn't about self-esteem. This is about evolution.

Simply, how can we expect to evolve if we are just following the status quo? How can we dance with ingenuity if we are chasing pre-defined success or expectations? Nobody expects ingenuity; it just is. And I hope more of us are open to this crazy dance, to popping open these gifts of the unexpected and letting them mess up our plans!

Helium as microcosm for human civilization: WHEN WILL ENOUGH OF US CARE?

I bought helium balloons for Rhiannon's birthday, at $2+/ea, knowing full well that it wasn't a green option for a planet that is fast running out of helium, due in part to our wanton releasing of it into the atmosphere for party traditions. It actually has some important medical uses. But I didn't care. I knew it would make Rhiannon happy, so I bought it. $35 worth. I ignored my green conscience. One of the mothers at the party said "What? You can still get helium balloons?" I felt really embarrassed, but the kids were thrilled.

The kids lost 2 of the balloons at the party, and we all talked about where we've seen tree-stranded helium balloon pieces in the past, and found bits of them around the island and on the beaches. We know birds eat them, but... meh. The helium companies claim that they only cause a problem for wildlife if they eat them inflated, which they don't. I can tell you from our experience with our rubber-consuming cat that, no, they most certainly do cause problems for animals who eat just pieces of them. Her twisted, torn, and ruptured intestines were testament to that. And the $1800.00 in vet bills to save her life. Wildlife doesn't get medical coverage.

This is the point: I, who generally try to be thoughtful in my choices, still just ignored these issues to give my daughter the fun party she wished for. It is going to take some serious promotion from retailers to get earth's fun-hungry consumers to stop consuming helium for parties. Toy stores and party suppliers are going to have to promote some alternatives. But do they care? Do we? Will we run out of helium for emergency purposes before the wealthy suburban mothers like me start to give a shit?

I got this article, today: http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-19676639

What about the other things we're consuming? What about the devastating ruin that constitutes many of our social systems and culture, now? When will we care enough to stand and make the changes we know are necessary?

Although many people are supportive, and make similar choices to ours, some still laugh at me or twist their eyebrows for the small things I do, like eating whole grains, and GMO-free/medication-free, not vaccinating my kids, not giving or receiving gifts for Christmas and parties, unschooling my kids and spending lots of time in the wilderness. And yet I know, that for all these things seem crazy, they're puny. Any serious change is going to take a total cultural withdrawal from the consumerist lifestyle that is the backbone of most of our civilization. Are we ready? Do we care enough?

*******
Back to small suburban changes... here are some ideas for helium balloon substitutes for decorating parties and sending home as favours*:

• Slingers (Dutch for garlands) are fabulous: home-made flag-lines made by folding a diamond or other shape over a string or ribbon and painting colourfully. If you make them with wallpaper scraps or upholstery fabric they are very durable and can last for generations. Similarly, the expandable tissue-paper garlands commonly available from Chinese stores are less durable, but with some care can still last a generation or two. And with time and patience you can make these yourself, too!
• Any gift of homemade sweets, decorations, bracelets, etc. that can be a gift from the birthday-child to his/her friends. 

*I edited this list - originally I had some other store-bought options for party-favours, until I realized that, if we're going to change our ways, we need to do a better job than that. Why give out consumable store-bought merchandise, or decorate with disposable paper products, when that is part of the problem. It's why we have a policy in our family of no gifts, but then we shouldn't be committing the crime in the other direction, ourselves. So I took them off the list. Only remaining are those things I feel are acceptable in a conscious world.

Epic Surprise Party

We pulled it off. It was so epic it was almost unbelievable. Here's what we did:

Firstly, some time ago Rhiannon confided in me that she really wanted a wizard party, but thought it was inappropriate, because she'd already had two, in her short lifetime. But still... it was what she wanted. And we left it at that.

Secondly, Rhiannon had been planning a "Welcome to Autumn Party" for over a month. She created the "Have Fun Palace" in a corner of the yard, complete with signs and various supplies for particular events at the party she planned. She made a treasure hunt and a box of "treasure" (candies), and a string of "prizes" selected from her less treasured possessions to give to her intended guests. And she made a guest list.

"Can I see that?" There were 14 children on the list. All of them were treasured friends. Not a single one had yet been invited, because a date had not been set. So of course I quickly contacted the parents to ensure that at least most of them could make a very short-notice surprise wizard party. They were to come dressed as wizards or witches, and were asked to bring a home-made card and a wizard-spell to cast on Rhiannon instead of a physical gift.

On Sunday morning I asked Rhiannon to set up her "Welcome to Autumn Party" so she could try it out with the family before inviting her friends. She did. And how many people did she set up for? Why, 12, of course! And why, I asked her, did she choose that number when there are only 4 in the family? She didn't know. Then Markus took Rhiannon out for an "impromptu" picnic...

Taliesin and Nana quickly made a party site out of a lovely area of the yard, set up some infrastructure, decorated, prepared balloons, etc. all while I hurriedly made a vibrantly blue wizard-hat cake. Yes really we managed this in 3 hours!

Then a flurry of magic folk (yes of course that's a technical term) were dropped off by their parents, and we hid ourselves in the bushes, trying various distractions to pass the time, and quiet the baby who seemed to have plenty to say...

Until Rhiannon arrived.

"What's Mama doing over there?" She says she was worried they shouldn't look, in case I was planning her party, but she never suspected there was anybody there. She came down to check it out and found a sign painted by her brother: "RHIANNON'S FANTASTIC WIZARDING CEREMONY". We waited for her to say "Huh?!", as we knew she would, and then...

Shock, excitement and a bit of disbelief...

Surrounded by wizards and witches. That blue thing in front of her is her wizard costume laid out for her to put on.

The kids each gave her magic spells as gifts, along with their home-made cards. Some of the spells were about friendship, some wishes for health and happiness, and some consisted purely of incomprehensible wizard-speak!!

But who is that strange wizard coming down the driveway? It's Weederman of the West!! He had been to a previous wizard party, two years ago, so some of the kids knew him, but some were mystified and a a little nervous...

Weederman of the West brought a special potion to demonstrate to the kids... it consisted of a tube of magical Mentos and a bottle of...

...OK Di.     Yes you read that right. That bottle says "OK Di". "But", the kids wanted to know, "you drink that stuff???" "No no of course not", Weederman replied. "Would you drink something that was labeled OK Die?" And besides, when he did his experiment it proved to be rather explosive. (I'll insert a video here when I get it uploaded.) But, after shooting most of the OK Di off in the experiment, Weederman took a (fake) swig...

...and died.  After some initial concern and magic revival spells, the younger wizards and witches took the oppotunity to jump all over him. Because really -- that is what uncles are for. Oh - did I say that? I mean that is what wizards are for.

Then the kids tried some potions of their own. We provided flasks and other receptacles, a book of potions (Thank you, Tanya!) and all the necessary ingredients to make them. They tried out a couple of the recipes, and then had a free-for-all with the ingredients, making all sorts of oozing and bubbling concoctions.

Cooperative games time!!! After potions we played musical mats. This is like musical chairs, except that in any type of musical chairs at our house, those who don't find a chair (or mat) must sit on the other participants! At the end they all pile on top of the musician (who awaits his fate with happy anticipation!)

Amoeba tag! Large amoebic multi-bodied life-forms chase each other around until they all merge!

Then I suggested we all go over to Rhiannon's treasure hunt, since she had it conveniently set up for... exactly the group of friends who happened to be there! Funny how that worked out, isn't it?!! She gleefully led them all over the property doing the treasure hunt she'd set up in the morning, and the final clue was...

This is the welcome sign at the Have Fun Palace.

Here they are ordering from the menu of invisible foods she created. I didn't quite understand this game, but that is the beauty of a (moderately) free-range childhood; the games are not scripted, parents seldom understand them, but the creativity is unbridled. And there is something really magical about friends. They understand and share the most eccentric activities, all growing and blossoming in the same universe, where parental input is entirely unnecessary.

And of course she even had a container of candies to share. It bothers me how desperate all the little hands look. But this is one of those times I really have to step back and remember my comments about the photo, above. It's none of my business, really.

And anyway... who am I to talk? While they were doing that, I was making appear a collection of helium balloons (see next post), a jug of Ribena, and...

...a frighteningly turquoise wizard-hat cake.

She competed with the wind to blow out her candle, and we sent the kids home with a potentially catastrophic amount of cake and icing in their tummies... at dinner time. Sorry about that, parents, but thank you for the gift of your children's joyful presence at a party that my own daughter will not soon forget!

Spontaneous Bird Dissection

As it happened, Opa showed up late one evening with a Steller's Jay that he had found caught in the rat-trap. Very unfortunate and sad, of course, but we decided not to let it go to waste. The kids each wanted a dried wing, so we cut them off to dry, and proceeded further to dissect the bird.

Tal pulling back connective tissue and membranes to find the brilliant pink lungs behind the heart.

No, we didn't take health-precautions; we didn't wear aprons or masks or even gloves. We did, at least, wash thoroughly afterwards, and sterilize the cutting board and tools we had used. Hopefully we're all fine. I'm not posting this as an example to other unschoolers, because I'm not sure at all that this was handled properly, but we all learned something, the kids found it fascinating (though Rhiannon found it very upsetting, she was glad she'd participated by the next morning), and I thought it was worth sharing. Here are the photos:

Tal cut open the gizzard to see what the jay had been eating and discovered it had been a regular in the chicken coop. Hence why it got caught in the rat-trap that was intended for the coop-invading rats, I suppose!

Tal for once was very pleased to record his finds on paper. He was especially pleased with this, because just earlier he'd been talking about the different parts of the brain, and was immediately able to find the 2 lobes of the cerebrum and the cerebellum of this bird. Click this photo to enlarge it if you want to see his diagram.

Mmmm... potions and experimental recipes...

Rhiannon has maintained for years that she wants to be a wizard when she grows up. In preparation, she is potion-maker extraordinaire. Often I lose sight of her, and find her tucked into a corner of the kitchen, the dining-room, or the porch with an assortment of ingredients and receptacles.

While Tal enjoys potion-making, too, his activities are more goal-oriented. Rhiannon has very little concern for the chemical theory behind what she does; it's all about having fun. Games. Oh yes.

Games!

Uncle Lee and Jenn are thankfully good sports, and were perfectly willing to participate in potion games with Rhiannon. Witness the bottle-squirt game, and blowing balls of dog-hair and water out of a bowl! Absolutely thrilling experiments, all of them!!!

Among the many experiments are also food experiments. Sometimes she makes them for all of us (like one particularly peculiar dessert of honey, nuts, and raisins... in a bowl of water), and sometimes she makes them just for herself. This one is from this morning's breakfast: cornflakes, pepperoni, snap peas and lemon-juice... in a bowl of milk.

She discovered that sometimes experimental cooking is best done in smaller quantities, in case the outcome is less appetizing than expected... But she followed through and ate it anyway.

Rats!

Taliesin wanted pet rats for his birthday. He is certainly getting old enough to shoulder the responsibility of a pet, so we let him do the research and planning for his intended pets. But the litter he registered for wasn't due until after his birthday, so he had to make do with chocolate-cake rats!

...but we ate those rats. He served them to his friends at his birthday party. That crown on his head is his very special 10th-birthday crown. It is our family tradition that children receive a crown for their "crown year". Taliesin's is a golden circlet with fluorite beads worked into it.

Taliesin had registered for a litter of rats that were due on or about his birthday. When he hadn't heard anything by 2 days after his birthday, he emailed the breeder, and received the devastating reply that the doe had died in labour, along with all of her babies. He was so very sad; this is him replying to the breeder with his condolences.

The breeder he'd originally chosen didn't plan any new litters, so I got on the internet and looked for new breeders. As luck would have it, we did find a lovely person on the mainland who had a litter of rats almost ready to be adopted, and one male still unspoken for. She had another male that she'd intended to keep for herself, but after hearing Tal's disappointing story she offered to sell him both together. She had originally named these two brothers Harry and Ron, but Tal changed their names to Mercury and Star. Here they are at only a few weeks old.

And here they are as teenagers! There have been a few little bumps in the road as we get to know them (rat-lice, right off the bat, and then stress-induced respiratory illness, and potty-training woes), but Tal has so far overcome each hurdle with grace and dedication. He is a very responsible rat-owner, does all the care and cleaning himself, and luckily still smitten, as they are with him. A few months ago I knew next to nothing about keeping rats, and wasn't particularly excited about the idea, but they've definitely grown on me. They're incredibly personable, intelligent, and entertaining, and I think an excellent choice of pet for a dedicated 10-year-old boy.

This is What Democracy Looks Like: Kids for Climate Action Act Out Against the Pipeline

My kids participated excitedly in this action with three of their friends. It took me a long time to post this, but thanks to the person who shot the video.

Kids for Climate Action was founded by Sophie Harrison, who also organized this flash mob, and led the progress. The children divided into "oil" and "animals", and sang as the oil marched down upon the animals, where they frolicked on the beach. Then then attacked them with water guns, until the animals died dramatically, and they sang their way back up to the laughing men sculptures.

The voice singing (first) is Ta'Kaiya Blaney, who blessed us with her beautiful song, Shallow Waters.


Kids For Climate Action

Everybody Make Tracks! Why open-ended exploration is vital to learning, progress, and evolution.

My family has a lot of Brio train tracks. Yes. A LOT. I had quite a bit when I was a child - nearly enough to reach from one end of our 40-foot-long house to the other, and my husband had a similar amount, although his was somewhat thicker due to being from the early as opposed to the late 1970's. When we had children we put our sets together and added a few new pieces (those great tight curves that didn't exist when we were little, some fancy 'skytrain' supports, and a few non-Brio compatible track pieces that are much more affordable, and just as good). Having this much Brio means that we have a great time as a family building extensive rail-systems in the livingroom, or sometimes into other rooms. And working together means that we often have issues where one person's plan is impeded by another's. This is where things actually get creative. This kind of system-building is open-ended. There are infinite ways to solve any problem, which inspires creativity, creative exploration and (when working in groups) group-problem-solving.

Even the (admittedly large) limit of our collection is a good thing, because it promotes a different kind of problem-solving: making the best out of a specific set of resources. Running into obstacles (shortage of track; cranky sister; dog knocking over hills) is one of the best motivations for finding a creative solution. And what solutions we find!!


Imagine if we all accepted that for any given problem or question there were infinite possible solutions? That any time we get stumped we can continue along the old path and keep trying again, but we can just as easily take things apart and make a new beginning on the same good path, or make an entirely new concept. We can exchange a curve for a switch; a straight for a hill, or even run extensive tracks into closed spaces and then escape them with hills, cross-tracks, and tunnels. We can run tracks up onto the couch; connect broken links with blocks, paper, or our fingers; we can turn the tracks upside down to use them differently, and create sculptures with them, sideways! There is always room for change; always opportunity to make new roads; always the possibility of a failed plan, and infinite ways to adjust those plans!

There is a huge difference between doing research on a problem where a particular answer is already commonly accepted and the research consists only of finding others' answer and documentation, vs. researching purely by postulation, observation and exploration, where either there is no commonly accepted solution, or the querant does not know of or believe in any. The first is not creative; the second is. And in my opinion, only the second holds much merit.

I just took the kids to Science World, where we saw the Da Vinci exhibit, and their newly-renovated diggs. I wasn't that impressed. I've been going to Science World since it was the Science Centre, downtown, and it seems to me that most of the actually interesting features have not changed much in the past 15 years or so. There have been plenty of additions, but many of them are more gimmicky than interesting. Or, at worst, they're just cash-grabs. For example, how does a child learn about the drawbacks of our consumerist lifestyle by sliding down a plastic slide in the middle of what appears (only from the outside; not inside the slide) to be a molded-plastic garbage-heap? No. Not good. There are a few great features, though; things which allow for open-ended experimentation and observation. Some of these are the 'golden hands' electrical circuit, the infra-red camera, which allows us to experiment endlessly with heat and cold, the water-play and damming area, and the bee exhibit, which allows us not only to watch the bees' behaviour inside, but then to go out and look at them on the outside of the building. This kind of open-ended opportunity for experimentation is what inspires the scientist in each of us.

I am routinely disappointed by "science experiments" designed for kids, where the object is simply to teach the kids some particular "fact" or "theory". What does this say of the creators' or presenters' respect for the childrens' abilities? Not much! And children know this. They know that their research is intended only to help them achieve a particular preconceived bit of learning, and that they are expected to accept and trust in the "fact" they are having demonstrated. Many children might feel patronized or even (in my case) completely insulted. At worst, they feel inadequate as scientific minds capable of discovery.

My son came back from a play date recently, and told me he was disturbed to learn that his friend was being mislead: "We played his science quiz on the computer, and one of the questions was 'God made the crops to give us food -- true or false' ... and I could only get it right by answering 'true'!!" He was rather horrified about his friend's welfare. Never mind the religious issue; what are we teaching our children by presenting them with "facts" and expecting them to learn such absolutes? My son wanted an alternative! He wanted to get the question right by answering from his own thoughts! Is that too much to ask of his world? Yes -- we all have to be tolerant of others' methods of teaching, but I really can't accept that we box our children in by expecting them to believe instead of to explore.

As an art teacher, I have taught so many students (both children and adults) who feel that they "can only draw" such-and-such, or who strive to be like other 'artists' they know of. I feel like this is a tragedy. In measuring up to others, or to others' standards, we can never reach new heights. Innovation comes from reaching outside the known universe and into the vastness of our own individual creativity. A coercive approach to teaching, even when we set up circumstances that lead our children into believing that they're discovering an idea that is in actuality preconceived (how convoluted is that?!), is disastrous to all learning, progress and evolution. Please let's give our children the best we can; let's give them the freedom not to follow us, but to lead us in their explorations. Let us ask them what they can teach us!

As Mister Rogers says, You can grow ideas in the garden of your mind!

Science Fair and Unschooling Learning Opportunity

Thomas' dancing blob! It was a mixture of cornstarch
and water which, when blasted from below with
music, actually got up and danced!

We are members of a 'learning community' that has two parts: a classroom program for 1/2-time schooling, and a full-time-homelearning program for those of us choosing complete homeschooling or full unschooling (our family, of course, fits the latter description). But we still join with the rest of the 'schooling' community for field-trips, non-competitive talent-shows, celebrations, and of course... the science fair!!

Island Discovery Learning Community's science fair was a lovely chance for children and teens to develop projects and share them with their community. Most of the projects were developed entirely at home, and many without specific direction from parents, so the children were free to research, experiment, plan and report according to their own interests. Some whole families got involved, together. Children, parents, and visitors were treated to rocket-launches, chemical reactions, running-on-goo (!), musical vibrations, and even Thomas' wayward dancing blob (directly below)! For the second year running, this non-competitive exposition of wonder and learning was a true delight. Thanks to all those who took part, who cleaned up afterwards, and to science teacher Amy for spearheading the whole thing!


The Economy of Joy
Rhiannon's project was her "Economy of Joy", which is basically a form of gift economy, and which she's been writing about on her own blog, http://economyofjoy.blogspot.com. She created a free market at the science fair, and had a few donations, a few things taken away, and of course her dandelion chocolate cupcakes were very popular. All 50-something of them vanished before too long.

This is Rhiannon's sign/poster for her free market table at the science fair. If you'd like to
read it more clearly, just click it for a bigger version!

Uncle Adrian brought a DVD to give away; it was scooped up quite quickly by some happy
Mr. Bean watcher! To the left you can see an assortment of things brought by Rhiannon and others.

Chocolate Dandelion Cupcakes! No soy, no gluten, no eggs, no dairy, no corn, no nuts (and no icing because Mama didn't want to have to wipe all the walls of the school, afterwards). She baked them all by herself, including harvesting the many many dandelions that went into them, and of course they were a big hit. It makes people happy to make other people happy!!

And of course it also makes us happy to share our hard work with other people. Rhiannon took lots of time to share her blog and her ideas with both loved ones and people she'd never met, before. And she even had encouragement to put on more free markets! Of course she was thrilled about this. :--)

Space Ship for Interstellar Space Travel
Taliesin's project was a collection of his research and inventions for a spaceship that would be capable of long-term (multi-generational), interstellar space travel. He's been working on this idea for years, creating drawings and just planning in his head, but this year he actually tried to pull many of his ideas together to show people. No small feat. This is the distilled part of years' worth of thought and energy:

Proud? Oh yes. He was proud. Click to enlarge if you want to. You could zoom in to see the project a little better -- or just to revel in the total joy on his face!!

Again -- click to enlarge and read his calculations on the dial.

Tal proudly told us after that people had asked him all sorts of questions, but that he usually had a paper somewhere to show them the answer on! It must have felt great for him to go from random messy piles of papers to such a well-organised display!

Unschooling Fail
OK -- that's not really appropriate terminology - it's more like a learning opportunity. I made a big mistake and I hope I've learned from it. I got wrapped up in my own fears.


It went like this:
As is Tal's nature, he got rather distracted with this, as each idea he researched seemed to lead him in many new directions, most of which he tried to follow up on, and there were some tense times when I forgot my unschooling intentions and started to stress about his project. The whole thing is technologically over my head, so I just let him use my computer, and checked in once in a while to be sure he'd not been co-opted by some morally repugnant google-finds. But as the science fair approached and all he had was a few disorganised heaps of paper (from which things he had spent lots of time working on just seemed to vanish, once in a while, to his dismay), I became more and more concerned that he'd have nothing to actually show at the science fair.

He claimed he couldn't make a diagram because he didn't know what sort of propulsion he wanted to use, despite the fact that he had numerous diagrams of researched and invented rocket systems. So I said 'fine -- decide that, then!' And off he went googling, again.

An hour and a half passed. "Tal?" No answer. "What are you doing?"

He was staring intensely at the screen, and I heard the droning of a man explaining something. "Sh. Mama. Sh."

I came over to look. He had tabs open about the theory of relativity, Einstein, and was watching a video about special relativity. "Tali -- I'm glad this is interesting to you, but what happened to working on your project?" (Mama is trying really hard to keep her cool, here, while her blood-pressure mounts and the flashing red NOT READY FOR SCIENCE FAIR!! lights are going off in her head...)

"Well," he says, matter-of-factly, "I'm just figuring out warp-drive."

I lost my cool. "WARP-drive?" You've been researching all kinds of rockets, and now you take a giant tangent over to WARP-drive???! That's a whole new project by itself!! You already have research on a bunch of other propulsion methods; can't you just choose one of those?!!"

A familiar look of hurt and frustration crossed his face, and I felt instantly SO so guilty. "OK." He said.

I watched my son's crushed spirit slip away back to his antimatter drive. I just killed something in him and there is no forgiveness in me for this kind of trespass. "I'm sorry. Please. Just do whatever you want. There's nothing wrong with warp-drive." I tried to redeem myself by spending the next hour or so actively engaging us both in warp research, and actually, for the first time in my life, understood relativity to some meager extent, with the help of my 10-year-old son. Then I took the opportunity to show him some science-fair photos on google and explain that a nice tidy-looking display can really help people to navigate the information, especially when there's so much of it. He listened. But then I stepped back and decided not to involve myself in the project anymore.

I know my stressing over this goes against everything I want for my kids, and I just can't seem to let go of my own fears. So I let them lead. Sure enough; Tal got going about 3 days before the science fair, and managed to pull off a pretty awesome display in those 3 days. He had a facebook conversation with our friend Besh (who also happens to be a very cool scientist, and interested in colonizing Mars), and this inspired him so much that he decided to turn his project into a book so he can send it to Besh. This helped a lot with getting the thing done, and readable.

So yes. Not for the first time, I messed up big time on the unschooling front, but my son's tolerance saved the day.

New Blogs of Loved Ones!

Here I present two beautiful new blogs for you to peruse (and seriously, this blog's not gone -- I'll get the photos into all belated posts and post them here soon -- I promise!!!).

The Wet Edge:
"The Wet Edge" refers to the most-recently-brushed edge of wet varnish - a point of high concentration (zen??) when applying the seemingly infinite layers of varnish to the bright-work of a boat. Watch as our very dear friends Suki, Jon, Kai and Hunter travel down the west coast on their 44' sailboat. They've pulled the kids out of school and are fully life-learning, now. And this amazing adventure is just the way to do it. It's a fabulous read, so far, and they've only just begun!

The Economy of Joy:
Basically this is Rhiannon's new term for a gift-economy.
I can hardly express how proud I am of my daughter for her blog! She not only conceived of this idea herself, but has put enormous effort into researching, studying, inventing, and expressing her many discoveries and ideas on the topic. With a little guidance from me on how to set up a blog, she set it up, designed it, and conceived and made every part of it herself. Now all I do is watch the posts come in!
In some ways it's obviously the blog of a 7-year-old, but it's heartwarming to see her positive outlook to a peaceful future for humanity, and her ideas (both collected and invented by her) are encouraging for all of us.

Unschooling Math

This is a topic that gives our family a good deal of stress. Simply because it's so obvious to us (parents) that, if our kids would just get interested in math, they'd understand their other interests so much more deeply! Very frustrating.

And here I make my terrible unschooler's confession: I coerce them to do math workbooks.

*gasp!*

Coercion never works. My daughter does the work because she wants to (she ADORES worksheets of any variety!) and my son simply refuses, while submitting to the odd worksheet, here and there, from which he gains precious little -- because it's coerced. BUT... as it turned out, he did manage to learn long division with the help of one of those pages, and, after months of constant prodding from his school-going friend ("did you know math is my best subject?", "I'm really really good at math, you know.", and "Do you even know what long division is??") he was so proud of himself that he went on to finish the section and is now working on measurement. Still. The spark of inspiration is definitely not there.

We've had some great conversations in our daily life, and there's enough interest in those (eg. exponential theory, physics, measurement, negatives and decimal theory), but the simple practice that seems to bring facility with those theories is definitely lacking.

Until...
We talked about alien technologies. You just never know where the light will come from!
Thanks to my brother, we ended up watching this movie about crop circles, busted out the compasses and graph paper, the rulers, and pencil sharpeners, and...

Voila: math is now unschooled. Er. I mean. Inspired.

You don't have to care about aliens or crop circles to find this movie fascinating. The forms and math involved, and the way they're laid out in the movie (with alien theory!) are pretty enticing.
Enjoy!