Pam Laricchia's Blog, page 54

Isn’t Philosophy Just For Intellectuals?

… or why understanding the principles behind unschooling is so important

“My daughter has dumped all of our blocks on the floor, determined to build a tower to the ceiling. Meanwhile, her younger brother has excitedly grabbed his construction helmet and declared that any building over four stories needs to be demolished, and her older sister is complaining bitterly about all the noise because she’s trying to watch a documentary. It’s a messy scramble like this every day. Right now I don’t need to know the rationale behind unschooling, just tell me what to do to get them to stop arguing!”

Does that scenario sound familiar? Have you brought a similar question to experienced unschoolers and been frustrated by the vague nature or spectacular range of the responses?

Sorry!

But it’s because there is no one “right” answer. Each person in that scenario is a unique individual with a distinct personality, particular interests and goals, and their own knowledge base. Now, we can pass along some principles to guide you, share what worked in similar circumstances with our families, and maybe brainstorm some ideas to help get you started, but you’re still going to need to do some digging and figure out what will work with your unique family. And then tweak it, over and over, as each of you grows and changes with time and experience. Relationships aren’t fixed entities. Ditto for learning: your children likely have disparate interests, varying ways of pursuing them, and even what they each get out of the same experience will often be different.

Instead of learning what choices experienced unschooling parents make in similar circumstances and trying to mimic those, it’s more effective to learn how they make those choices.

How did we figure out which principles were most applicable in similar circumstances? How did we choose which actions to try, evaluate how they worked, and use those clues to move forward? How did we incorporate our understanding of each of our children’s personalities into our actions?

Interestingly, that’s really similar to one of the paradigm shifts I discuss in Free to Learn, but from the child’s perspective: “Instead of learning what choices to make, it’s better to learn how to make informed choices.” In that chapter I talk a lot about how giving your child the room to gain experience making choices not only better supports their learning in general (by pursuing the connections that most call to them), but it also gives them lots of experience with a skill that will benefit them throughout their lifetime. That it is applicable across differing circumstances speaks to its strength as a fundamental principle about learning.

Sure, mimicry may be helpful for a little while as you gain more understanding: “fake it ’til you make it.” Some people find that a constructive part of their learning process. (How do you prefer to learn new things?) But don’t stop there. Real learning, learning that is understood and remembered, isn’t about copying a successful or experienced person’s actions: “in this circumstance, do this”. That’s more like memorizing. The problem is that when a new situation arises, you’re stuck. You have to go back and ask, “Now what?”

Real learning is understanding the principles and processes behind the actions and how they fit into your personal worldview well enough that you can do some analysis and make your own informed choices regarding your actions, in any environment or situation. And specifically, as parents interested in creating a thriving unschooling environment, we want to gain experience in making choices that are compatible with unschooling.

As you more deeply understand how unschooling works, you’ll find your trust in the process, and in your children, growing. You’ll find your fears diminishing. You’ll find your reactions to the negative opinions of others less…fiery. You’ll probably find your urge to prove others “wrong” and yourself “right” falling away: convincing others is no longer needed to boost your own confidence. You know what’s working for your family. And why. And that’s enough.

One other thing to keep an eye out for as you learn about the philosophy that underscores unschooling is your filters. These are your closely held beliefs that can alter how you interpret what you see and read, often without you even realizing it’s happening. That’s how deeply ingrained they can be. The way a blue gel over a stage spotlight can give the scene a night-time ambiance, years of school experience can have you straining to see school-type learning when you watch your children in action. It can take a while to remove that filter and truly see the real learning that is happening all the time. Have fun exploring your own filters!

So if you find that each new twist in life sends you reeling back to the unschooling drawing board, remember:

Understanding the philosophy behind unschooling, the principles and concepts that underlie our every day actions, will help you more confidently make choices that better support your unique family members.

In any situation. Forever. That’s real learning.

And now that we’ve gotten the “why this is important stuff” question out of the way, next week we’ll start digging into some of the principles behind unschooling and the paradigm shifts away from conventional thinking that they can inspire.

 

When Negative Relatives Won’t Let Go

Recently I talked about how you might choose to answer questions about unschooling from relatives during family visits. I thought it might be helpful to dig a bit more into ways you can deal with relatives who are more insistent about their negative viewpoint about your lifestyle: maybe when you change the subject, they look for any opening to change it back; maybe when you leave the conversation to go somewhere else they soon seek you out and start it back up; maybe they continue to express deep concern that your choices are ruining your children.

Before your next visit, it can help to take some time to think about their childhood, their parents, their educational experiences, their life experiences, and see how that thread led them to the confident stance they are taking with you today. Their journey is definitely different from yours! Imagine all the beliefs about parenting and learning they have to question in themselves to even begin to understand the advantages and possibilities of your unschooling lifestyle.

That’s a lot to ask of them—they just may not be willing to do it right now. At this point, a heated exchange of facts and beliefs isn’t likely to change anyone’s mind, just escalate the frustration and stress. It can help to remember that they are likely acting out of concern and love for their grandchild, or niece or nephew, yet you and your family shouldn’t suffer as a result of your differing viewpoints. When negative relatives get stuck on trying to change you rather than trying to understand your choices, and you are uncomfortable with their attitude and questions, I would suggest that you show them you understand their concerns and then actively disengage. Maybe something like, “I think it’s great that you care about my kids so much, however, how we raise them is our choice and responsibility. This is working well for us right now and it’s not up for discussion.”

If possible, it’s probably better at that point to change the topic of discussion to a neutral subject rather than walk away. Walking away can imply that the entire relationship rests on resolving the disagreement over your educational choices / lifestyle, while changing the topic more leaves the impression that, though that particular topic is off-limits for now, you aren’t dismissing them as a person because of your differing points of view. So … fishing? Home decorating? Movies? How are things at work? And if they choose to leave the conversation in a huff, hey, that’s their choice too. You’ve planted the seed that this disagreement isn’t the end of the world and have tried to make it about the ideas, not the people. If they come back to the conversation you can just remind them, “Hey, we weren’t going to talk about that any more, remember?” And change the subject. Again.

If you think they would be amenable to learning more about unschooling but are, for some reason or other, discounting the information they get from you, you could loan them a book about unschooling. Or send them a couple links to websites you’ve found helpful. It puts a bit of a cushion between you, and pulls the focus away from the people and onto the ideas. Or even better, of those resources you’ve found helpful, pick a couple that you think might meet them where they are in their understanding and that will, from there, walk them through the principles and ideas behind unschooling. But don’t overwhelm them with too much information or they may not even start.

And you can leave them an opening: “I’d be happy to answer any questions you have after you’ve read some of this information.” Next time they bring up the topic ask if they’ve read the information you sent along, and if not, say you don’t want to rehash the same old conversation. Change the topic. If they have, you could say “That’s cool, do you have questions from that?” If you discover they really only read it defensively to pick out points to argue, you know they aren’t yet open to learning about unschooling. Good to know. Change the topic.

I know I keep saying change the topic, but really, it’s that simple. Or politely leave the conversation entirely. A conversation takes two people and if you don’t see any positive reason to engage, don’t. For now, just practice that. Maybe you wish your relationships with extended family were deeper, but it’s not something you can force. You don’t need them to understand your choices right now. Remember that while they may be determined to tell you why your educational and parenting choices are wrong, those aren’t the only subjects in the world. Find others. And over time, without the pressure to come to agreement, even your negative relatives will see your children blossom with unschooling; they will see the beautiful relationships you have with your children in action. Show them, don’t tell them—that works all over the place, doesn’t it? Be patient.

Meanwhile, focus on the fun and interesting ways you can connect with them. Light conversations, games, playing outside, a polite hello and good bye etc. You can try to keep the relationships cordial until the kids are old enough that child-rearing fades away as a topic altogether. At that point your relatives will likely begin to develop real relationships with your children, based on shared interests and connections. And that’s where you wanted to be all along.

Supporting Our Kids’ Relationships with Their Relatives

With unschooling we talk quite a bit about not having expectations of our children because that adds a filter to the relationship that gets in the way of both learning and living. It’s much more helpful to look clearly at our children as they are today. I’d extend that to any relationship and encourage dropping expectations of your extended family as well. Get to know the real person, not the role. Work with that. Don’t try to change them into your dream grandparent or aunt or uncle to your child. Remember, this is their journey too. They are discovering the kind of grandparent or aunt or uncle they want to be. You can help that journey along, not by trying to mold them into your vision of that relationship, but by helping them experience and explore their vision.

Same with your children: support them as they create their own relationships with their relatives. Let’s start with something I mentioned last week when I talked about family gatherings:

“I’d also keep a peripheral eye on what was up with my kids. If I noticed a relative starting a conversation, I’d watch to make sure my kids were comfortable. If not, I wouldn’t leave them to struggle or be quizzed, I’d join them. Maybe for moral support, maybe answering questions for them, maybe changing the topic, or maybe inviting them to join me somewhere else—it was dependent on the situation and on any plans we’d made before we went about how they’d like me to help them out.”

See how I’m looking at the situation from my child’s perspective? It’s not about how I feel about the conversation; it’s about how my child feels about it. (I’m assuming you don’t think the relative is subversively manipulating your child; and if you do, I’d probably ask why you were there in the first place.) Each time I can shift and see their lives from their perspective it leads to better actions and reactions on my part—better meaning more supportive of my children. I think of my job as supporting my kids as they develop their own relationships with their relatives. From that perspective, not only do I feel much less pressure, I’m also excited to discover what kind of relationship develops.

And I’m a really great resource to help them with that! I know my parents, my siblings, and my extended family pretty well from many years of experience; likewise, my spouse knows his or her family well. And obviously I know my kids better than they do. So I can take some time to figure out how I might best support a developing relationship between them. You’re nurturing the relationship. That doesn’t mean trying to get one of them to compromise or change for the other (that’s a clue that I’ve taken over responsibility for the relationship); it’s about searching out their common ground.

How might I do that? I do it by asking myself all sorts of questions about them. Would my Mom (insert any relative in question) enjoy hands-on play with my children? Does she feel like she’s connecting with them when they are excitedly playing with and showing her their favourite toys? Then bring them. Or does that level of energy and activity feel overwhelming to her, and she’d feel more relaxed and connected playing board or cards games or reading their favourite picture books with them. Bring those. Or might she prefer sitting more quietly and enjoying a favourite movie? Suggest your kids choose a few of their favourite movies or shows to bring and ask Grammy to pick which one she’d like to watch with them. And initiate these activities at an appropriate time during the visit.

If your parents are more hands-off and mostly want to see their grandchildren but not particularly interact with them, bring things your kids will enjoy doing to pass the time. Your parents will see their grandkids: happy parents. Your kids will have fun stuff to keep them busy: happy kids. Remember, this might be how it looks now, but that doesn’t mean it’ll be that way forever. A hands-off grandparent may, after a while, realize they don’t know their grandchild very well and start interacting more. That realization may take longer to come to if they have to work through feelings of being judged by you as well. If you can keep the relationship as clear of judgment as possible, it allows them to evaluate and learn and grow more directly.

If your child is looking for more interaction, be the example. Say your child brings their favourite toy with them to show their aunt. You can watch out for that moment and join them, being the facilitator. Explain your child’s excitement to your sister. You could smile and say “He can play with his transformers for hours, figuring out exactly how all the bits fit together as they move from one thing into another.” And then to your child, “Oh! I bet she’d like to see your blue transformer, how you can get it from car to robot in five seconds.” Maybe make a game of counting out how long it takes to transform it back and forth a couple times. You’re acknowledging your child’s excitement and showing your sister how she might interact. Plus, you’re pointing out the particular things your child enjoys about the toy/activity so that she gets to know him a little bit better.

But still, you needn’t expect that she get any better at the relationship—at this point you’re more supporting your child’s wish to share his joy with his aunt. Maybe your sister gets to know your child better and begins to enjoy when he shares his interests, taking over the conversations so you no longer need to facilitate. Or maybe as he gets older he comes to realize that his aunt simply isn’t very interested in knowing much detail about his interests. You can commiserate with him and he’ll move on to other things.

These aren’t meant as definitive actions, but more to help get your juices flowing to discover ways your relatives and children might enjoy interacting. Don’t be frustrated if your initial ideas don’t work out well; keep trying. And remember, we’re looking for common ground, supportive ways to bring the perspectives of both the child and the relative in question together. Take the time to see things through both their points of view and you will be in the best position to nurture the development of a lifelong relationship that meets both their desires as much as possible.

But if one is wishing for more of a relationship than the other is interested in, that is just the way it is for now. Just as you can’t force them to fit into your vision of that relationship, neither can one of them force the other to submit to their vision without further damaging the relationship. Once your conversations with them have revealed an impasse in that moment, conversations with the one feeling slighted can swirl around people and personalities and wishes and that this moment doesn’t define forever. People grow and change. It’s a beautiful dance. It’s life.

 

Enjoying Visits With Extended Family

Many of us are the lone unschooling family when our families of origin gather for holiday celebrations, birthdays, reunions etc. That is certainly our case, both for visiting my own family and my spouse’s. The choices we’re making as parents are different than those of many others, and sometimes we can feel a bit isolated even in a crowded room. But there are a few things I do to set these visits up for success and I thought I’d share them in light of the holiday season.

First off, things go much more smoothly for me when I remember that I’m choosing to visit, or to invite others over. I don’t have to see anyone. You won’t be arrested or jailed for not visiting with relatives. So right off, it’s my choice. It’s a much better mindset because from that perspective I see opportunity, not obligation. And if I’m choosing to go and hoping to avoid friction, then it’s worth the time and effort for me to set up the visit to be successful.

Answering Questions

Because we are doing things differently, we are interesting—or at least a curiosity—so chances are relatives will ask questions. It’s so easy to feel defensive when others ask questions about how we are raising our children; it’s deeply personal. And maybe the questions are meant confrontationally, maybe not. But it works best for me not to get pulled into that quagmire. That’s part of the work I choose to do, to shift past any defensiveness before answering and assume there is honest interest somewhere behind the question.

You may cringe at hearing some version of the same old question, maybe “Are you guys still homeschooling?” Or unschooling. Or whatever words you’ve used in conversation to describe what you’re doing. Even if you feel what they really mean is “have you come to your senses yet?” you don’t need to react with some version of “yes, we are and we will be doing this forever so get used to it.”

There’s no need to draw a line in the sand over personal parenting and educational choices. That can invite argument because it can feel to others that you’re implicitly judging their choices. “It’s working well for us now” is a fine answer that is both truthful and open to the understanding that people and circumstances can change. And without that tone of finality it can, without any direct words at all, help other parents realize that they too can change their minds; if their kids are in school, it might be working well for them now, but people and circumstances can change.

One thing I don’t do in conversation though is invite their opinion about what we’re doing. I love them, but I am choosing to create a different parenting paradigm than their worldview so what kinds of answers would I expect to get? It’s a family gathering, not a parenting conference. I remind myself to not to have any expectation of, or need for, their support. If I have questions, or want in-depth conversation about parenting or learning or education, I wait until I’m in a group of unschoolers, face-to-face or online, because that’s the filter through which I am looking for answers.

I also don’t grouse about my kids, or any parenting challenges in general, because that’s just a question in disguise: family members want to be helpful and will likely volunteer any solutions they see. But again, they’d be coming from a different perspective than what I’m looking for so that experience would just be frustrating for both of us. Not my goal.

And remember, if any conversation starts to feel uncomfortable, feel free to change the subject, or go to the bathroom, or go play with the kids, or take the kids for a walk around the block, or pull out a game and invite others, adults and kids, to play. You aren’t a hostage even if you’re in someone else’s home.

Conversation Starters and Activities on Hand

Questions are great conversation starters and subject changers. But, as I mentioned above, steer clear of topics that you already know you guys have difference of opinion. I wouldn’t walk up to my sister-in-law the teacher and say “Did you see that article online about how homework sucks?” Others can feel attacked just as easily as we can.

Instead, I love to ask questions about their interests, maybe because curiously, many adults I talk to don’t seem to think they have any. I like inviting them to think about themselves. It’s also a great conversation starter with kids because, if interested in chatting, they can talk and talk about their passions. Or they might invite me to play or watch or whatever. I love seeing their eyes light up! And I get to learn more about them.

And not to be subversive or anything, but you’re also introducing them to the world of passions and interests and how fun it can be to immerse yourself in something, not to mention discovering how much you learn along the way: the basis for unschooling. If you can draw them in through doing, maybe one day they might begin to understand where you’re coming from. Or not—you’re just planting a seed.

Also, before you go, take the time to think about who’s going to be there and what they like. It helps you have interesting questions at the ready. You can talk to your kids before you go too. “Hey, remember Grammy showed us that sweater she was knitting last time we saw her, let’s remember to ask her if she’s finished yet.” Or “Aunt Sue loves to be outside, why don’t we invite her to walk to the park down the road?” Or “We’ll probably eat lunch when we get there, but after do you guys want to ask Grandpa to play Crazy Eights? It’s his favourite card game.” Or even the other way sometimes. I’ve called my Mom before we visit, “Hey Mom, the kids are really into Monopoly in this week, if I bring the game do you want to play with us?” If she does, great; if she doesn’t, I can let the kids know ahead of time and we can come up with something else to bring or do during our visit.

Giving everyone a heads up lets them look forward to things, brings to mind things they both enjoy so conversation starts more easily, and even gives them a head start in coming up with a response instead of feeling put on the spot. “I don’t really like Crazy Eights, can we play War? I’ll show you how to play, Grandpa!”

I’d also keep a peripheral eye on what was up with my kids. If I noticed a relative starting a conversation, I’d watch to make sure my kids were comfortable. If not, I wouldn’t leave them to struggle or be quizzed, I’d join them. Maybe for moral support, maybe answering questions for them, maybe changing the topic, or maybe inviting them to join me somewhere else—it was dependent on the situation and on any plans we’d made before we went about how they’d like me to help them out.

Another thing I did when we went to visit relatives was bring toys, games, and/or crafts for my kids, things they would like to play with so they aren’t bored. The point is for them to enjoy the visit too! Depending on who we were visiting, I’d also bring things we could all do together—children and adults. From something as simple as card games like Go Fish, to Bingo, to Monopoly, we’ve enjoyed many games over the years. If the adults are amenable, games can be a great way to spend time together where kids can be kids, the adults can get to know them better, and the pressure of conversation is minimal. And time passes much more joyfully when you’re having fun!

Have a Plan

If things have a habit of going off the rails once the “things” are done and conversations are left to meander and flow and potentially get away from people, understand that and plan for it ahead of time. For example, maybe plan to leave after dinner is done. And say it firmly when you arrive (if you’re asked) so you don’t invite someone to try to coerce or guilt you into staying longer. Set that boundary, or else they’ll continue to try that every time.

And especially when the kids are younger, spend lots of time with the kids. They are learning about navigating relatives too! They need and appreciate your attention and company. The typical “adults in one room, kids in the other” did not seem to work very well. I was often the lone adult hanging with the kids, playing games, having fun, and enjoying wonderful and sincere conversations. And it meant there weren’t kid battles for the adults to complain or yell about. And bonus, they weren’t complaining about my kids. It often worked well.

A little time and planning before any visit with extended family can go a long way to helping it play out with less frustration and lots more fun. Enjoy!

 

Communication Instead of Discipline

Discipline. It’s a word with multiple meanings and its interpretation often depends on your personal experiences and world view.

I like to think of discipline as an “activity, exercise, or a regimen that develops or improves a skill; training: A daily stint at the typewriter is excellent discipline for a writer.” I’m pretty transparent that way—I usually lean toward the meaning that supports real learning. And it meshes well with self-discipline, which I talked about last week.

But, certainly in mainstream conversations about children and discipline, the word is more likely to mean “punishment or penalty in order to train and control; correct; or chastise” or, a bit more sinisterly, “systematic training in obedience to regulations and authority”. (Thanks, dictionary.com!)

Choosing our approach to discipline is a significant aspect of parenting. A quick web search on ways to discipline children brings up methods such as physical punishment (like spanking), emotional punishment (like taking a valued toy or activity away), consequences (like losing a related privilege), expressing disapproval (making the parent’s love conditional) etc. These are all examples of adults exerting their power over children in an effort to control their behaviour.

Leaving aside the incredible damage these methods can do to the parent-child relationship, why are these methods rather ineffective, certainly in the long term? Because these punitive actions do not help the child understand the reason why the behaviour is frowned upon; it merely teaches the child that the parent doesn’t like it. The threat of punishment may motivate the child to avoid that behaviour when the parent is around, but it doesn’t help them appreciate why they may want to rethink those actions in their day-to-day lives. These methods train, they don’t explain. Discipline keeps the focus on the surface level of behaviour: do this; don’t do that. Or else.

So let’s dig deeper. What drives behaviour? One of the main motivators is character. Our character, our traits that define us as unique people, are what we draw on when choosing our actions. So, with our eye on making parenting choices that support unschooling, let’s refresh our memory from last week on what learning about character looks like:

“The need for or usefulness of positive character traits will come up in everyday situations, just like the need for and usefulness of other skills such as reading and writing comes up in life, as we talked about last month. The key, as always, is to support our children, not try to direct them. Help them discover why certain traits are helpful; don’t demand that they exhibit them.”

We aren’t trying to train our children how to behave so we don’t need to discipline or control our children to coerce them to stay on our narrow path. Instead, we are helping our children learn about character; about the range of options we all have regarding how we choose to behave. And how do unschooling kids learn best? Through experience. And how do we best support their learning? Through conversations. Help your children experience the situations they are drawn to and then have conversations about them to help them process the experience. Talk about the situations that arose, about how they saw things, about our own experiences, about ways a person might act or react, about how things might move forward.

Open, honest, and clear communication best supports our goal of helping them learn about character, about discovering the person they want to be. When things don’t go well, instead of disciplining i.e. punishing them for behaviour that’s already happened, focus on the future—help them figure out what other choices they have available to them for the next time a similar situation arises. And as I’ve mentioned before, depending on the child, these might be longer conversations as you’re both curled up on the couch, banter around the kitchen counter, a chat in the car, or a few words exchanged here and there as inspiration hits.

I want to take a moment to touch the idea of positive discipline. The ideas and tools they suggest focus more on the parent-child relationship over punishment and emphasize working together with your child. They are definitely a great step forward. But there are still complications that can arise. Let’s take a look at the idea of “natural consequences” for example. They are described as the consequences that happen when no adult interferes in the situation. That sounds pretty reasonable, doesn’t it? No punishment, just experience?

It does seem logical, but I prefer to call that just plain living. It’s life. Things don’t always go as planned or hoped for—shit happens. But in my experience, taking those moments and calling them “natural consequences” tempts parents to purposely stand back and not help out, to not lend their experience to facilitate a situation—all in the name of their child learning a lesson. The parents deem the lesson more important than whatever the child was trying to accomplish. That isn’t natural in my world. There are enough times when I truly don’t have the experience, influence, or skill to be able to help a situation that I don’t have to artificially manufacture them. I can do my very best and life still happens, not fairy tales.

One of the benefits of focusing on helping our unschooling kids learn about themselves and develop their unique character is that as they get older, the better they understand themselves and the kind of person they want to be, and the easier it becomes for them to make real choices about their behaviour. Not choices muddied by reactionary motivations like rebellion, these are choices they are making for themselves so they don’t change depending on who’s around to see. One of the common traits of unschooling teens is that they behave the same way whether or not their parents are around. They don’t have two different personas: one for peers and one for adults. They get to just be themselves.

As unschoolers, we are focused on supporting our kids as they learn through living. And in helping them discover themselves and the person they want to be, rather than trying to mold them into our version of the “ideal” child. And our parenting choices are all in support of that. Punishment, discipline, demands—they all interfere with that learning. Instead, we communicate with our children as valuable and unique human beings and figure out ways we can best help them move forward more content and happy with their day, their week, their life.

 

Raising Children and Developing Character

As unschooling parents, our intuition at first and our experience soon after, shows us that our children’s best learning happens when it’s part and parcel of pursuing interesting things in their lives. That’s when it has meaning to them and they are motivated to try to figure it out.

Why? Because people are unique. And just as a one-size fits all curriculum doesn’t provide the tailored body of knowledge and skills more useful to a particular individual, trying to fit a model character onto everyone ignores that uniqueness as well. As we support them exploring the world to find what fascinates them, we can also support them digging into themselves to find what drives them. Help them discover the kind of person they want to be.

Across North America certainly, character education has become part of the curriculum, trying to teach character traits like respect, responsibility, self-discipline, caring, trustworthiness, fairness, honesty, courage, sportsmanship, citizenship and positive attitude. One of the issues with that is described by John Holt, in How Children Fail:

“Teachers and schools tend to mistake good behavior for good character. What they prize is docility, suggestibility, the child who will do what he is told; or even better, the child who will do what is wanted without even having to be told. They value most in children what children least value in themselves. Small wonder that their effort to build character is such a failure; they don’t know it when they see it.”

It’s another instance of adults trying to mold children into their singular vision of the perfect person. The problem is what they often mean is perfect for the adult and for the current situation. They value what makes their life easiest in the moment. That isn’t surprising though, is it? We parents can find ourselves doing this too. And is it weird that what just jumped into my mind was a quote from JK Rowling in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire?

“Remember, if the time should come when you have to make a choice between what is right and what is easy, remember what happened to a boy who was good, and kind, and brave, because he strayed across the path of Lord Voldemort. Remember Cedric Diggory.”

Thanks, Dumbledore! Okay, maybe that’s a little melodramatic. But it’s about character, isn’t it? If you find yourself more often making the easy parenting choice, maybe ask yourself if you’re giving it your best effort. And this John Holt gem bears repeating: “they don’t know it when they see it”. That’s a good reminder for us parents as well.

Instead of trying to mold our children from the outside, unschooling parents work from the inside, helping their children discover what works best for them. We celebrate the fact that people are different, that we are each a unique combination of personality and character and interests. It’s from that place of understanding that we help our children explore the world, and themselves, and find how they most comfortably fit together.

So what does it look like when we extend the unschooling learning philosophy beyond academics and into character? Character is the set of qualities, or traits, that make up a person, especially the person’s qualities of mind and feeling. Instead of teaching these traits, we give them the space and support to learn about them through living.

There are plenty of situations that arise that involve real choices about character—no need to make them up. And as unschooling parents we are involved in their lives, helping them process these situations, helping them see the different ways they can choose to act and react, helping them figure out the kind of person they want to be. And by living openly alongside them, we are showing them that learning and growing and moving towards being the person you want to be is a lifetime activity. It’s part of being human. I am growing and stretching and challenging myself regularly, in character as well as in knowledge: the self-discipline of writing weekly for this blog is one small example.

The need for, or usefulness of, positive character traits will come up in everyday situations, just like the need for and usefulness of other skills such as reading and writing comes up in life, as we talked about last month. The key, as always, is to support our children, not try to direct them. Help them discover why certain traits are helpful; don’t demand that they exhibit them.

Let’s dig into a trait as an example. One situation that often challenges parents is joining activities; or more precisely, quitting activities. You’ve probably heard some version of this parenting argument: “She needs to finish what she starts. She needs to learn self-discipline and responsibility. If we don’t insist she finish, she’ll just give up any time something comes along that is hard or she doesn’t like.”

First off, I find the idea of “teaching self-discipline” an oxymoron: self-discipline can’t be imposed from the outside because it’s all about internal motivation. But leaving that aside, if as a parent you force your child to finish out whatever activity you feel they’ve committed to—for example, a series of lessons you’ve signed them up for—are they really learning self-discipline?

Put yourself in the child’s place. What might you be thinking about, and hence learning, if you’re told you have to finish that series of lessons you signed up for? The next few times you go you’re probably thinking this is a waste of time, you could be doing X, Y or Z instead. Or maybe your distaste for the subject begins to grow to loathing proportions and you swear you’ll never pick up a paintbrush again (or baseball bat, or swimsuit etc.). Or maybe you vow to never sign up for anything else again! Maybe eventually all three. I imagine that self-discipline wouldn’t really be on your radar at all. But you’re likely soured on that activity, and maybe on exploring any activity in this fashion.

Instead of trying to teach them self-discipline, help your children find ways to develop it. At one point they had the motivation and self-discipline to keep pulling themselves up and trying to walk, again and again, for example. When we have a personal goal, we’ll discover how much of our time and effort we’re willing to invest to achieve it. That’s one of the wonderful things about unschooling: our children are encouraged to find those things they are truly interested in, to find those audacious goals that they want to reach. That, more than anything else, helps them develop self-discipline.

Has your child ever gotten frustrated trying to do something yet still continued to attempt it? A cartwheel? A drawing? A video game level? They are developing the ability to motivate themselves right there: they are continuing to pursue something despite the challenges they are facing. Those experiences show them the connection between effort and reward. And their self-discipline grows as their interests expand and the distance between effort and reward gradually gets larger. You don’t have to teach this stuff, life is full of it. Instead, do your best not to short-circuit it.

I still remember the late afternoon that stretched into dinner time when I instead stayed at the pool watching my determined daughter practice diving over and over (and over) until she was comfortable she had it. Celebrate those times when their determination and self-discipline is just a joy to watch in action. See those moments, not a late dinner. Remember them.

Same goes for the other traits that make up an individual’s unique galaxy of character. By experiencing real reasons, in their real life, to explore and develop these traits, children understand them better than through any lessons about character others try to teach them. And as a result of this exploration, and the support of their parents during it, unschooling children are often quite knowledgeable about themselves, their strengths and their weaknesses.

Watch your children in action. They are pretty incredible, aren’t they? Continue to figure out ways you can support and help them as they explore themselves and the world. That’s raising children.

 

The Unschooling Family: Considering Everyone’s Needs

I’d like to dig more deeply into something I mentioned last week when I talked about dropping the prevalent “adults versus children” attitude and the power struggles that ensue:

This can be thought of as us adults handing more power over to our children. And though that image is a step closer, it still leaves us with an image of “us and them”; just with the tweak that we’re looking to balance the power between the adults and children in the family. That can be tricky to implement though, and sometimes parents can overcompensate.

When we first realize that using our inherent power as adults to control our children interferes with both their learning and our relationships, often our reaction is to pull back. It’s a very understandable response, and a great first step.

What can happen though, if parents pull back hard and stay there, is they often end up ignoring their own needs in favour of their children’s. After a while that can lead to feelings of martyrdom, which can lead to expectations that at some point their sacrifice will be acknowledged, and possibly bitterness when that doesn’t happen. “I give and give and I don’t think I can give any more.” Burn out.

Or, for parents still caught up in the notion of “us and them” but trying to maintain a sense of balance, life can get overwhelming. Balancing power is like trying to balance a teeter-totter: it’s just damn hard. Why? Because when power is a factor, it can lead to decisions that seem random and inexplicable. Decisions become focused around an arbitrary fulcrum point, instead of on everyone’s needs. “Why did you let me do that last week, and not this week?” “Well, last week you got do all sorts of things you wanted to do, so this week I’d like to choose some stuff.” When decisions are based on someone’s arbitrary view of “balance”, the people involved can feel wronged and discussions can go on and on without resolution. There is almost always a “but” to be added. Parenting becomes more intense and challenging than it needs to be. Burn out.

What’s my point? Dropping the “us and them” paradigm not only better supports unschooling and long-term family relationships, it also makes parenting a less contentious and more rewarding endeavour. But at the same time, it’s important that parents express their needs too. It’s important that everyone’s needs are considered.

It’s easy to say (well, relatively—it’s taken me about 400 words to get here!) but not so easy to do. It takes experience. It takes understanding each other’s needs and personalities. It takes trust. And all those things take time to develop. But keep trying. Everyone in the family will get better at it over time.

It can feel a bit scary at first, bringing our needs into the discussion. Maybe this is something new to you because as a kid (or adult!) you were never asked to verbalize them. Maybe you’re worried you’re asking for too much. Maybe you’ve heard the reminder to “say yes” more and you’re worried you’re not being supportive enough of your kids’ needs. But don’t wait until you think you have yourself all figured out before saying something—nobody is perfect at this. But that’s the great thing about doing it as a family: you’ll get feedback. You’ll give feedback. You’re all working together.

What kind of internal work can we as parents do to help the process along? Take the time to ensure we bring real needs to the table. Not whims, or wishes, or whatevers, but real needs. If you’re quite sure the request in front of you needs a “not right now” answer because you really need to eat something immediately or else your frustration will spill over, do it. Explain that. And go eat something right now. And see how that works out. Remember, a “no” in this moment doesn’t mean that every time for the foreseeable future that you feel hungry you need to say no. And if you say you need to do something right now and then you don’t end up doing it right now, that’s a clue to reconsider next time.

Examine and evaluate your needs. Evaluate if fulfilling them helped. Tweak them. That examination also helps ensure that power does not sneak into the equation—watch out for self-talk like “I’m the adult; I should be able to do XX.” This process is where you’ll find those leftover unexamined beliefs you were handed. Watch out for words like “should” and “have to”. Maybe they are true for you, maybe they aren’t. But until you examine them, you won’t know. And, bonus, once you examine them, you can explain them to others if you decide they are a real need of yours, at least in this moment. That builds trust.

It’s interesting to note that kids usually have much less work to do in this department because they haven’t had a childhood full of “you can do that when you’re an adult” situations handed to them. They are already pretty good at expressing what they are sincerely interested in doing.

Beyond burn out, what else can happen if parents ignore their own needs? I think we’re doing our kids a disservice if we don’t show them that others may have differing perspectives or needs; that it’s worthwhile to take the time to consider the needs of others involved in a situation and find an inclusive path forward. And that path can look different each time, even with the same people—remember the science centre example from last week? This effort helps build strong and trusting relationships. And it’s a wonderful skill to develop. In fact, from conversations with my young adult children, this seems to be one of the more prevalent social skills that’s lacking as they meet more and more people out and about in the world: many people seem unable to understand the impact their choices have on those around them.

What else? If a parent chooses not to express their needs, their children may interpret those actions as “the way to make the people I love happy is to ignore my needs and satisfy theirs” and bring that attitude to their future relationships. That might not work out very well for them.

But adding our needs doesn’t mean we have to be dogmatic about it. We can express our needs and choose to gift our kids with extra attention, extra supplies, extra anything. Expressing our needs helps them understand when we’re going above and beyond so it doesn’t become an expectation.

Not just “yes”, but “I’m tired, but I know how much you’d like me to watch that show with you. I’ll do my best to stay awake!”

Not just “yes”, but “I bet you’ll have so much fun with that toy! I’ll help you pay for it out of my fun money.”

Not only are kids learning to trust that their parents will help them meet their needs, parents are learning to trust their kids too. Trust that their kids will only ask for what they really feel they need. This allows parents to be more comfortable stretching themselves, going above and beyond to meet their kids’ real needs, trusting that there will be time to satisfy their own needs as well.

And you’ll get better at it with experience. You’ll get better at understanding the motivations behind their requests to do things, helping you feel more motivated to support them. You’ll get better at understanding your own real limitations, helping you take better care of yourself, and to push through when you’re more restless than tired. You’ll have a better grasp on which tools help both you and your kids move more smoothly through frustration.

Over time, you will all get to know each other better, your relationships will get stronger and the trust between you will grow. All those things will help make the “figuring out a path forward” moments go more smoothly.

The great thing is that envisioning your family as a wonderful team with the power of everyone in the family behind it, actually helps remind you to bring your needs to the table: you’re part of the team. It helps us remember to consider everyone’s needs. And that helps us develop the strong relationships and trust with our children that are the foundation of a thriving unschooling home.

 

Unschooling and the Power Paradigm

Most information I’ve come across about parenting, whether in conversations, online, in books and magazines, or through TV and movies, promotes an “us versus them” attitude: adults versus children. Even when it isn’t mentioned explicitly, it’s there. A quick web search turns up articles such as these from popular parenting sites: “Get Your Kid to Stay in Bed”; “15 Foods All Kids Should Eat”; “Don’t Buy These Video Games”; “How to Deal with Defiant Kids”; “How to Keep Your Cool When Your Kids Push Your Buttons”; and “How to Deal With Your Preteen’s Messy Bedroom”. As you read those headlines, can’t you just feel the pervasive undercurrent of power struggles? Of pitting parents against their children?

What if you don’t presume power struggles are inevitable?

Moving away from the paradigm of adults versus children is really helpful in allowing unschooling to flourish. Why? Well, what are some of the things you begin doing more of as your family moves to unschooling? One would be moving away from telling your kids what to learn and focusing more on diving into what they find interesting. Another would be opening up every day situations for further discussion and giving them more opportunity to make choices. Both of these are examples of moving away from adults exerting power over children to control them.

This can be thought of as us adults handing more power over to our children. And though that image is a step closer, it still leaves us with an image of “us and them”; just with the tweak that we’re looking to balance the power between the adults and children in the family. That can be tricky to implement though, and sometimes parents can overcompensate. Giving the children more power than the adults in the family is not better—it can lead to children that feel entitled regardless of the situation.

What if we remove the “us and them” dichotomy as well?

Instead of thinking of our relationships with our children as an exchange of power, where one side has more or less power than the other, or trying to balance power between them, drop the idea of sides altogether.

We don’t need to drop the concept of power. After all, power is just a representation of what we can accomplish. To feel powerful is to feel strong and capable of action. What we can drop is the overtone of power *over* others. Most adults do feel more powerful than children because they have more experience and feel more capable in many situations. That’s natural. But instead of using that power advantage to control our children, we can use it to work together as a family in support of each other.

What if we envision our family as a group—one powerful team?

Sure, the children will have less power to contribute, certainly when they are younger, but that’s not a surprise, is it? They are children. It’s not about everyone being equal; it’s not about giving my children as much power as I have. It’s about showing them how powerful we are when we all act *together*. Acting together in support of each other helps everyone in the family feel supported and loved; they feel safe because they have the power of their family behind them. Even when a child isn’t able to contribute concretely towards a sibling’s or parent’s goal, they can still actively contribute by being emotionally supportive, and by not putting up barriers.

What do I mean by that? If a child feels powerless in a family, there’s a good chance they will try to exert what little power they feel they do have to thwart others in reaching their goals: take away someone else’s power to increase their own. Jill wants to play her video game? Adam might try to frustrate her in all sorts of ways: playing loudly in the room; running in front of the TV; tossing toys at her—all in an attempt to get an explosive reaction. The power in the air is almost tangible. These kinds of power struggles can play out over and over, day after day.

Remember though, when kids are younger this might happen innocently enough because younger Adam wants to play with Jill and doesn’t yet realize that while trying to meet his needs, he’s actively impeding hers. When parents see this happening they can engage Adam in other activities. Jill will appreciate the support in meeting her needs, and Adam gets and appreciates the attention and engagement he was looking for. And in short conversations and observations with Adam over time, he will begin to understand and incorporate the perspective of others. And during a quiet moment, explaining Adam’s perspective to Jill will also help her better understand the situation (meaning that Adam’s motivation isn’t to frustrate her but to meet his wish to play).

Building that kind of supportive relationship with your children allows them to feel more comfortable in the family, to trust that their needs and wishes will be fully considered. From there they don’t feel the need to exert power over others, to feel powerful by frustrating others.

But what about when your children’s needs are at cross-purposes? How might you go about working with them to find a path forward that supports everyone? What might it look like when we work together as a team, as a family?

Let’s play with an example using some of my personal experience. If one of my children says they want to visit the science center soon, I’d likely say “Let’s go check out the calendar.” Together (usually, or I’d look myself if they were busy) we’d see what days we are free in the next week or two (my kids are older now and often they’ll check the calendar first before proposing plans). From the possibilities, we’d figure out if they have a preference, discussing that a bit so we could prioritize the available days.

Then I’d ask my other kids if they were interested in coming too. Note that I don’t ask my child to ask their siblings—I figure out the family logistics in support of them. I have more experience with their different personalities and interests and can more quickly, and successfully, work out possibilities with them. Over the years they have all seen me in action countless times, figuring out plans, and definitely use that skill themselves now.

If everyone wanted to go, we’d have a quick discussion about which day, choose one, and mark it on the calendar. If one or more of the other kids didn’t want to go, we’d keep digging. If they, and I, were comfortable with them staying home on their own, I’d confirm they were fine with that, and they’d look forward to having the run of the house while we looked forward to the Science Centre. When they were younger, I’d likely check with my husband to see if he was planning on working from home one day in the next week or so. Or we’d make it a weekend (usually more of a last resort because weekends are typically busier at attractions). Or I’d ask my mom if she’d like to come over and hang out with the stay-at-home child while the rest of us went. Or if she’d like to meet us there—sometimes the previously uninterested child was happy to come and spend some time with Grams. Sometimes one of the kids was less interested in the exhibits, but chose to come because the cafeteria pizza was surprisingly good and they wanted to eat lunch there. If that was the case, they’d bring their handheld games to play, or music to listen to while others explored the exhibits. Or maybe they were interested in the store and we’d plan to spend more than the usual amount of time in there during that particular visit.

My goodness, there are just so many ways it could go! So many ways it did go over the years. One thing that wasn’t questioned though was somebody’s wish to do something. Sure, somebody might ask why the other person wanted to do or not do something, and sometimes minds changed with further discussion, but doing our best in the end to meet anyone’s wishes was a given.

I think the key was, and is, to keep an open mind and use the conversations with my children to incorporate their ideas; not to try to convince them to agree to any plan I had already formed in my head. If I’m listening politely and waiting for an opening to add a “but”, then I’m not really hearing them. That’s a clue to me that it’s time to take a breath, or a break, or whatever helps me drop my preconceived solution, drop my urge to try to use my power to control the situation, and start fresh.

Another really interesting outcome I’ve seen is that children that feel fully supported, that feel the power of their family behind them, become much more discriminating in their wishes. Life isn’t a constant barrage of this and this and this with little rhyme or reason. That doesn’t mean I always understand why they want to do or have something, but that I trust they are motivated by a real need or want. Even if there were times over the years when their motivation may have been more frivolous, they saw me take their wishes seriously and do my best to meet them, and that built their trust in me.

Think of the reverse situation. If children are used to only some of their needs and wants being considered and fulfilled by their parents, they take that into consideration moving forward. They’re smart! If they are used to, say, only one in five of their requests being taken seriously, they’ll be sure to ask for five in hopes of getting at least one. And to get to those five, they are likely asking for some things that would be fun, but aren’t particularly necessary in their eyes. What is necessary is getting *something*. Some attention, some consideration, some feedback that says they are important. Some power. In that situation they can come across as needy because they always seem to be asking for something. That worries the parents and they may feel they need to say no more often so their child learns “they can’t have everything”, so the percentage of needs met falls even further, prompting the child to ask for more again, and so on. It can quickly become a downward spiral. From there, recovery of that trust and relationship may take a while, but it’s definitely worth it.

Feeling powerful is, well, empowering! Imagine how wonderful your children will feel knowing they have the power of their family behind them. Tossing the parents versus kids attitude found in many parenting discussions and being careful not to use our power as parents over our children to control them, but rather to throw behind them and support them as they live and learn, will go a long way toward creating a joyful family atmosphere for both parents and kids that will last a lifetime.

 

Do Classes Hinder Deschooling?

When your family decides to move away from school-based learning there is usually a period of transition, commonly referred to as deschooling. It’s a time when the kids, having spent however many months or years in school, are de-stressing and rediscovering their interests, while the parents are learning insatiably about unschooling and trying to grasp the wide-reaching ramifications of this new lifestyle. And in fact, because parents typically have a full school career behind them, they often need the longest time to transition out of the school-based mindset, even when it was their idea in the first place!

For my family, that transition officially began during March Break of 2002. In Canada, March Break basically means the kids have a week off school. Many families in our neck of the woods trek down to Florida to enjoy warmer weather and long lines at the amusement parks. As for us, we were enjoying being home together. I had been researching homeschooling for a few weeks, having recently discovered it, and had been talking about it with my husband. During that fun and relaxed week, having found no discernible downside, we realized that we could just give it a shot and see how it went. We could find no compelling reason to wait until the end of the school year—three months seemed so close and so very far away at the same time. When Friday night came we asked the kids if they’d prefer to not return to school on Monday, and all three jumped at the chance. So they just didn’t go back. I made the required phones call to inform their schools, sent my letter to the school board, and we continued on at home like our March Break vacation just didn’t end.

My kids were not remotely interested in anything that looked like school so there were no extra-curricular activities, no community recreational classes. They had so much lost time with their interests to make up for! And when they were interested in something, their preference was to dig into it themselves with our support.

Swimming classes? No thanks.

Workshops at the local Science Centre? Nope.

Summer library program? Nah.

Hmm. I was a bit flummoxed. What should I do now? The answer was (which I know now because hindsight is 20/20 and all that): deschool some more. Sure, those activities may be fun for many kids, but my kids were happily busy with their own stuff.

On the bright side? I didn’t push, I just offered and observed. And eventually I came to realize what I was doing: reaching for learning situations that, although they weren’t in school, looked a lot like school, because that was all I really knew. D’oh!

My kids deschooled much faster than I did, so it was really helpful to my process to watch them in action. I joined them in their activities, played games with them, read to them, watched TV and movies with them, went to local parks with them; in short, had fun with them. That was how I began to see that there were so many ways to learn things beyond the teacher-student paradigm. It was, and is, beautiful!

If they had taken me up on my offers of classes, or I had insisted, we all would have taken much longer to discover the learning that surrounds us every day and our natural capability to pursue it. Classes would have continued to be valued as a way of learning above other options. In other words, deschooling would have taken even longer.

I think that’s a crucial, and challenging, step in the deschooling process. Classes are so highly valued in our society that it can be an easy way for us, especially at first, to justify the success of our homeschooling adventure to others, as well as to ourselves: “Oh, Johnny is going to weekly swimming classes, and just finished a robot-building workshop, and is going to the overnight program at the zoo next week, and is signed up for hockey this winter!” That rollicking list might calm down Aunt Sally for the time being, but really, it clutters your vision and makes the real learning that happens through every day living harder to see.

How might you figure out if your child’s slate of activities is hurting deschooling more than it is helping? What really matters is the motivation behind them. Are we as parents encouraging Johnny because we feel these activities are a “better” use of his time than hanging around at home playing games? Is Johnny really excited to be there? Or do you get the impression he’s going to assuage his own fears that maybe he’s not learning much on his own?

Motivations that stem from external judgements rather than internal interest are clues that some more deschooling is in order. Maybe Johnny’s having a terrific time each week, yet you begin to realize that you’re latching onto it and giving it power beyond “he’s having a terrific time.” That’s a sign for you to take the time to work through why that is, without spoiling his fun. If Johnny’s not having a terrific time, remind him that he doesn’t have to go and take a moment from time to time to unobtrusively point out the learning he’s doing outside the class.

The big question is, are you, like me in the beginning, offering up classes or lessons as your first response when your child says they are interested in something? That’s a major clue. Stop doing that. For now, challenge yourself to think of other ways to meet and expand their interests; and there *are* other ways, you might just have to work harder to find them right now. Deschooling. It’s worth it. It helps you see the bigger picture; it helps you discover the world of learning that is waiting outside the classroom.

Do they like the water? Take them public swimming regularly. Visit a nearby lake to play in the water. Rent a paddleboat. Float with life jackets. Blow bubbles in the water. Take a snorkel and mask in the bathtub. Set up the sprinkler to run through or a small wading pool. In short, help them enjoy the water. Over time, you’ll see them learning. From blowing bubbles, to putting their face in, to dunking their heads, to jumping off the side of the pool or dock—it’s beautiful to watch, and not a swimming lesson in sight. Maybe there will be eventually; maybe they’ll want to learn more formal swim strokes or water rescue techniques. But the point is, you’ll discover that there doesn’t *have to* be.

Eventually both you and your kids will realize that classes and lessons and textbooks are just a few of the options on the huge learning platter of life and they will have no intrinsic value over and above any other offering. Their choices will be based on what they’re interested in and how they personally like to learn things. Not on anyone else’s expectations about their learning. And neither will yours! Because we’re all learning, all the time.

Another step on the deschooling journey.

 

Math is More Than Arithmetic

Continuing with this month’s theme of digging into how unschooling is different than school, and with reading and writing under our belts, let’s tackle math. Because unschoolers don’t slice the world into different subjects, we see a broader picture of the myriad of ways math is intrinsically tangled with the world. We see math as much more than just arithmetic, the branch of math concerned with numerical computation, which is the main focus of school’s math curriculum, certainly in the earlier years.

I was recently asked to sum up my experience with unschooling math and here’s what I wrote:

“As an unschooling parent for over ten years I’ve seen how resolutely my kids pursue their interests and goals. Their persistence when they are curious and motivated seems inexhaustible, even through frustration and disappointment. But, as unschooling parents realize, real learning is minimal when a person is disinterested. When they need math is when they learn math. My kids encountered everyday arithmetic living and learning in the world around them: counting toys; playing board games; calculating hit points; baking delicious food; making store purchases; measuring distance; balancing their bank account. The reasons for performing these tasks are clear, and the computational skills are picked up unobtrusively along the way—without developing the usual curriculum-induced aversion to math. And many adults living active and joyful lives have no need for more advanced skills.

Yet in the real world, mathematics is so much bigger than arithmetic and through years of exploring the world, analyzing situations, and making choices, my kids have developed solid critical thinking, reasoning, and logic skills. It’s that strong foundation of mathematical thinking, along with their everyday computational skills, that I’m comfortable will continue to support them in whatever direction they choose to pursue. If at any point the interest or need to learn more advanced mathematical skills presents itself, that’s when they can be picked up. The time conventional students have spent learning what they know, (say, a high school math curriculum) my kids have spent learning other things that make up their knowledge base. With a lifelong view of learning there is no value in comparing the particular ages at which people learn things. It’s not a competition; there’s no behind or ahead. Time is not lost, just used at their preference.”

There are a few ideas in there that I’d like to expand upon now that I have the space.

“without developing the usual curriculum-induced aversion to math”

This is a big one, just google math anxiety or phobia. There are a couple of ways that school’s math curriculum contribute to this phenomenon. First, with the early focus on arithmetic, math quickly boils down to right or wrong. And who wants to be wrong? Soon, many kids would rather avoid it altogether.

Second, with the focus on “show your work” for full marks, children aren’t encouraged to think and play with numbers. Class time is focused on preparing kids to do well on the next test so there isn’t time to explore other ways to get the answer, or why some approaches that seem logical at first can lead you astray, or to try to understand a student’s intuition when there’s a right answer and little written work to back it up; they are expected to memorize a process to get to the answer and repeat it ad nauseum. And on that test, you had better use that same method the teacher taught to get to your answer. This is often because grade school teachers aren’t themselves fluent in math so they only understand the one typical method through a math question. And that’s not meant as a slight on the teachers—that’s the way the system is designed.

I still remember, more than once, sitting around the kitchen table choking back tears because my well-intentioned Dad was showing me how to work through some math problem using a different method. I knew that wouldn’t be acceptable. I kept saying “but that’s not how the teacher wants us to do it!!” And I wasn’t math phobic at all. I ended up taking math all through university for my engineering physics degree. But the environment created through school was such that I just wanted to learn the method they wanted me to use and get on with it.

“many adults living active and joyful lives have no need for more advanced skills.”

So, having taken countless math courses over my school career, was it worth it? I liked math and I enjoyed wrestling numbers for that right answer—it was a game, a puzzle. And I imagine some of those advanced math skills would be useful for many practicing engineers, though in my own ten-year career I didn’t use them. And I certainly couldn’t use them now, though I’m pretty sure I could relearn them, if I had a need.

“But they need to know about calculus!”

Just because unschooling kids don’t follow a math curriculum doesn’t mean they will never know that advanced mathematical topics and skills exist; not teaching something is a far cry from actively shutting kids away from it. If they have an interest or passion in something that extends into more complex math (say, for example, computer programming or complex origami or game theory or astronomy), they may become interested in learning more. If they love playing with numbers, they may encounter it that way, as they explore deeper and deeper. The need for some people to understand and use higher mathematics exists in the world for real reasons. And it’s through those reasons that interested unschooling kids will find it.

Yet there aren’t a lot of careers that require advanced math skills. Many adults living active and joyful lives have no need for them—myself included. One of the advantages to unschooling is that the children don’t spend time learning stuff they might need to know some day; they spend time learning what they need or want to know *now*. With the corollary being when they need or want to know something, they learn it.

“strong foundation of mathematical thinking, along with their everyday computational skills”

I was surfing around the web while writing this, brushing up on the reasons being bandied about for why students should learn advanced math. This quote is representative of what I found: “Many jobs and hobbies will require a quick mind that is logical and able to creatively solve problems. Each of those skills can be perfected by studying math. It may not seem like you will use the things you learn, but they will improve your mind and your ability to be flexible with what you want to do in life.” (This one happens to be taken from http://www.freemathhelp.com/math-real-world.html)

I understand the reasoning. Solving higher math problems often demands logical thinking and analysis to parse out the applicable method. But there are other paths to developing those skills beyond a math curriculum. Instead, unschooling kids gain logical thinking and reasoning skills through their experiences with analyzing situations and making choices on a day-to-day basis. Unschooling parents work hard to give their children the time, space, and support to gain lots of experience with those critical thinking skills that enable them to evaluate, compare, analyze, critique, and synthesize information, regardless of topic. Unschooling encourages that in spades. As the quote above suggests, and I agree, it’s not really about the math.

“Time is not lost, just used at their preference”

Along those lines, during the time kids in school spend learning that math curriculum, unschooling kids aren’t sitting around learning nothing; it’s not a void created in their lives. They are living and learning other things that have meaning for them. They know lots of other things useful to their lives that schooled kids don’t. The point is, it’s not a competition. Time is not lost, just used at their preference. If learning more formal computational arithmetic and advanced math becomes a need or interest, they can pursue it then, regardless of their age.

So here’s what math looks like from my unschooling perspective. Arithmetic is useful because it’s basic stuff that we use in our day-to-day lives—unschooling kids learn these computational skills by encountering the need for them as they live in the world. Critical thinking skills are beneficial to contributing to society and achieving our personal goals—unschooling kids gain these skills through gathering, analyzing, and critiquing information, making choices, and feeding the resulting experiences back into that loop as they follow their interests and passions.

And in my experience, that’s a great foundation for living an active and joyful life.