Pam Laricchia's Blog, page 55

Learning to Write is About Communicating

Writing is another of those basic skills that many parents are wary about not teaching when they are exploring unschooling. Let’s look again at the bigger communication picture from the Learning to Read Without Lessons post:

It’s true that reading and writing are useful skills to develop—they are opposite sides of the written communication coin. Yet precisely because of that, children living in the world will bump up against them frequently. They will encounter real life reasons to learn them, which is both more motivating than just a parent or teacher telling them they should, and more effective for real learning because as they learn they’ll be actively using those developing skills to reach their own goals.

Just as there are real reasons to figure out reading, there are real reasons for writing. Not for gold stars, not for marks, but to communicate. And again, school’s need to develop these skills at early age is a direct result of their reliance on written communication. Most young kids prefer actively playing and playing and playing. And if that is their preference, that’s how they are learning the most about themselves and the world around them.

A child’s need for written communication skills often doesn’t surface until a few years later as their world begins to expand beyond the people that immediately surround them. Their parents no longer have all the answers to their questions. Maybe their interests expand beyond their local reach and they want to communicate with those further afield who share their passion. They want to read to gather more information; they want to write to ask questions of others or share their own knowledge. Or share their stories. Or communicate socially with others. As their world expands there are so many real reasons and opportunities to write.

But before we dig into that, let’s take a quick side trip and look at the physical act of handwriting. At school, having legible handwriting is important. When homework and written test papers are misinterpreted or unreadable, marks are lost. And when marks are lost, grades are lower. But when you step outside the structure of school, is handwriting nearly as important a skill? In the bigger picture, what are they trying to accomplish? Communication that persists over time. The method that produces that communication is much less relevant.

In today’s world, communicating electronically has become ubiquitous. Typing has moved beyond secretaries and writers to a skill that benefits most people. The only handwriting I’ve done the last few years is for my own use—I’d be lost without my lists!—though even those could be managed electronically if that were my preference. Still, if a person comes across a need to communicate with another through handwriting and that communication is breaking down because of difficulty reading the messages, that’ll be great motivation to write more legibly. When there is a need, there is internal motivation and receptiveness to helpful information—there is real learning. Or, the pharmacist will just call the doctor’s office to confirm the prescription details.

My eldest son learned to type well in a couple of weeks because he wanted to communicate with others in an online game. If you’ve read the article about my daughter’s reading journey, you may have noticed that she was writing out interesting scenes from the Harry Potter books. Instead of reading assigned books and writing essays about them, unschooling kids find real reasons to write, reasons that make sense to them in the course their days and motivate them to do it reasonably well. They discover that a successful act of communication is dependent upon how well the recipient understands the written message. They discover that there are different levels of written formality depending on the situation.

And remember that when they’re engaged in real written conversation and communication they’re engaged with another person—maybe in real time, through text or chat, maybe a bit delayed through message boards and forums, or maybe over even longer periods of time through books, magazines, and websites. Communication is not a solitary act. Learning about writing doesn’t start from scratch when they first decide to give it a shot; they have been seeing it in action over the years when they read, or are read to. The reading that inspires them to respond is also a guideline for how to respond.

I mentioned my eldest son’s typing skills developing through online gaming. His interest in communicating with others who were as deeply interested in role-playing video games as he was, led him to online forums and message boards. There he lurked at first—just reading and getting a feel for the tone and expectations of the community. He noticed the kinds of written communication that worked most successfully; meaning the posts that he found interesting, the ones that helped him learn more about the topic. He noticed that spelling, grammar, and punctuation made a difference in how well the poster’s message came across.

When he eventually chose to start posting, he wanted his communication to be clear so incorporating those language conventions were definitely key components of his writing style. There is also immediate feedback through the replies: if what he was saying was misunderstood, that’s a clue; if there were no replies, that’s a clue. Real communication. And you’re around to answer their myriad of questions, like “Why does this guy always post stuff he knows is going to make people mad?” More learning about the interesting nuances of written communication that lie beyond the mechanics.

Or maybe they start by copying stuff they love (like my daughter and Harry Potter) and progress to adding their own ideas (she moved on to writing some fan fiction). When she was looking for feedback she posted her stories on an online fan fiction forum. Eventually she started writing stories about her own worlds. Sometimes handwritten, sometimes typed—always communicating. In her early teens her story-telling process became visual: photography. Nowadays she’s learning about the language and communication style of contracts and working with clients.

For my youngest at the moment, written communication is mostly about social interaction. Yet even from his texts to me I can see he is particular about grammar and punctuation. And even if not, that would be perfectly okay too. It’s about the individual, it’s about noticing what is interesting to *them* because that’s where the useful learning is.

Life, if lived actively and open to opportunities, gives everyone the chance to learn the skills that best help them follow their unique path through it—written communication included. The wonderful thing is that unschooling kids have the time to explore, the time to find the things that interest them and develop those skills that will be uniquely helpful in their lives; instead of spending a significant portion of their childhood in a classroom, disconnected from life and trying to learn skills others think they might eventually need.

How can you help? Be open with your kids about your communication forays in the world. Did you write a letter to the editor of your local newspaper? Or participate in an interesting discussion in an online forum? Or receive a particularly stilted form letter in the mail that made you laugh? Share these moments with your kids. Not with any expectations of a response, but because they are interesting bits of communication in the world. Share share share. Living and learning together.

 

Learning to Read Without Lessons

Last week I explored some of the fundamental differences between unschooling and school. But even if it sounds interesting and makes some logical sense, it can be hard to loosen your grip on the notion that the basic skills still need to be taught: “Once my child can read and write, then I’ll be comfortable letting them follow their interests.”

It’s true that reading and writing are useful skills to develop—they are opposite sides of the written communication coin. Yet precisely because of that, children living in the world will bump up against them frequently. They will encounter real life reasons to learn them, which is both more motivating than just a parent or teacher telling them they should, and more effective for real learning because as they learn they’ll be actively using those developing skills to reach their own goals.

This kind of learning process differs from lesson-driven learning in a couple of key ways. First, there is no external timetable or schedule. And second, the definition of the skills is broader, just as the world is broader than the classroom.

This week, let’s dig into reading.

At school, teachers need students to learn to read as early as possible because it is an efficient way for one teacher to communicate with a classroom full of students. The educational system is designed around written communication—teachers use textbooks and worksheets to share information with students and test papers to assess progress—so it’s no surprise that it values early readers. It’s even more challenging for young kids because they don’t yet have much of a need for reading beyond school; their passion is active play. Yet children that don’t learn to read on the school’s timetable are sorted and labelled and judged inferior.

With unschooling, early reading is not necessary because we have the time to communicate with our children in ways in which they are already skilled. We can talk with them, we can interpret their body language and emotions—we don’t need to rely on reading. Our communication is rich.

At school, the process of learning to read is swept up in reciting the alphabet, phonics worksheets, and sounding out words. Young children are bestowed the label “reader” when they can make their way through early readers. And that’s just the beginning: they need to live up to it. They feel the pressure to continue to develop at the same pace as the curriculum or risk losing their badge of honour.

With unschooling, children are surrounded by the literate environment of the real world. They come to see the real value that reading has: dialog and directions in their video games; signs at the store to find their favourite food; stats on their game cards; websites about things they like; books and magazines filled with interesting information and stories. Yet that value isn’t held over their heads as some perverse motivation to learn faster: “Sound it out yourself!” Unschooling parents happily read things for their children until they are ready to take the task over for themselves. And learning is easier, and more effective, without that external pressure. Here’s an interesting observation I’ve made over the years: unschooling kids are more likely to call themselves readers once they are comfortably reading adult-level books. That’s what reading looks like in the real world.

As I mentioned earlier, the educational system is designed around written communication so being able to read is paramount to achieving success in that environment. Not being able to read puts students at a disadvantage in *every* subject. But without that constraint, unschoolers take in information just as effectively in so many other ways! You might find them watching videos (like documentaries, specialty channels, enthusiasts’ videos), engaged in hands-on discovery (like science centres, museums, zoos) or playing around on their own with just about anything (like computers, video game design software, musical instruments, cameras, exploring outside). In fact for many people reading is not the preferred, nor the most effective, way to learn new things. With unschooling, learning is not compromised for later readers the way it is in school.

The same logic follows for fiction: outside of the classroom there are many ways to enjoy stories beyond reading books. The world is full of stories being told through different mediums: TV shows, movies, comic books, board games, video games, plays, storytellers, audiobooks. I fondly remember many enjoyable hours reading aloud to my kids. Enjoying stories does not hinge on the ability to read.

There is a wide range of ages at which children are able to pull together the many pieces of the reading puzzle. Trying to superimpose lessons on the process implies not only that learning must be done on someone else’s timetable, but that the child’s interest and questions and personal connections are somehow not the “right” order in which to gather the pieces of the learning-to-read puzzle.

But don’t infer that not teaching lessons means that unschooling parents are hands off. On the contrary, we are very involved in the process. It’s just that instead of following a curriculum that walks students through one particular learning path to reading, we actively live life with our children. Words are everywhere. We read to them, we answer their questions about words—with direct answers, not impromptu mini-lessons. They may enjoy word-based games, or having the subtitles on while watching movies and TV, or following along in a print book while listening to an audiobook. Everyone’s brain is wired differently so the things that spark connections will be different. If they aren’t reading it’s likely because their brains are not yet ready for it. Guilt and pressure won’t make their brains make these connections and develop any faster. Fully exploring the world through their eyes will.

I wrote an article for Life Learning Magazine back in 2004 about my daughter’s journey to reading. Here’s a link if you’re interested: “I Can Read, You Know!”

Outside the classroom there are so many other ways to discover and learn about the world beyond reading. And in the meantime, later readers won’t feel like they’re flawed—they’ll pick up reading on their own timetable and just add that particular way of enjoying stories and gathering information to their already abundant repertoire.

 

Unschooling Doesn’t Look Like School At All

Unschooling looks like life.

Like an endlessly unfolding summer vacation, minus the warm weather (unless you live a lot closer to the equator than I do!), but with one big difference: the kids don’t spend it decompressing, burning off steam from months of strict schedules and the stress to perform. And they don’t end up complaining they are bored because someone isn’t telling them what to do. Instead, they are busily pursuing the things that interest them.

In contrast, what does learning look like at school? The vast majority of us parents went to school, so we understand that process quite well: there’s a curriculum that dictates what we learn; a teacher that tries to help us understand it; and a test that determines if we remember it. Repeat that loop over different subjects and many years. It is an exacting process designed to meet its goal: teaching large numbers of students a defined collection of information and skills, within a set number of years.

The big question is: how does pretty picture number one accomplish the learning that so many of us have been taught to think has to look like picture number two?

To answer that, let’s dig into some of the ways unschooling differs from school and why.

(1) No curriculum

Unschoolers don’t buy into the idea that everyone needs to know a generalized (and sometimes out-dated) set of skills and information by a certain age. Understanding that people are unique and will end up doing different things as adults, unschooling parents see it as more effective for their children to focus on learning the things that interest them. Those interesting things have a better chance than a generic curriculum of leading to the skills and information that will support their personal work and life as an adult. It’s what they like to do now, and is likely a step on the path to what they will choose to do in the future. They follow their interests, their curiosity, instead of a curriculum.

What about that certain set of skills and knowledge that is needed to get along in society? Since unschooling kids are living and learning in the real world, interacting with people in their society as they grow up, they will encounter occasions where those basic skills and knowledge come in handy, and they will pick them up then.

(2) Supportive atmosphere

But not following a curriculum doesn’t mean that unschooling parents are doing nothing. Instead, you’ll be replacing it with a supportive learning environment. One based not on an outline, but on your child’s interests. Instead of a teacher dispensing information and directing the children’s activities, unschooling parents are actively supporting their children as they follow their interests. The children’s goal isn’t learning, but doing what’s appealing to them. The really fascinating thing is that when living is the goal, learning is an incidental, yet wonderful and intense, process that happens along the way. *You* are the one who will see the learning, because you are the one looking for it—they are having fun and happen to be learning along the way. And in my experience, they are learning a lot!

Another way the atmosphere differs is that unschooling parents don’t believe children will actively avoid learning unless forced. My experience shows just the opposite! Children are interested in exploring the world around them. Just watch a toddler who has recently learned to walk! That doesn’t change as they get older, unless the adults in their lives take the enjoyment out of it by directing or forcing it.

(3) Focus on aspirations

Schools focus on teaching skills they believe students will need in the future. With unschooling, we pursue our interests and pick up the skills we need to accomplish our goals along the way—both kids and parents! The value isn’t in the skill; it’s in what you can do with it.

And the learning is much better from that perspective as well. Remember how often a teacher told you “you’ll need to know this when you’re older”? At least for me, that wasn’t compelling motivation to invest my time and energy. But what about when you have something you want to accomplish now? That’s when the skill or piece of information has significant meaning. There is a reason to do the work to understand the information or master the skill—you want to learn it so you can continue in pursuit of your goal. There’s also a much better chance you will remember it because it was of value and made a strong connection to your existing knowledge. That’s real learning—learning that is understood and remembered.

(4) Interact with people of all ages

Schools group students together by age—it’s the easiest way to deliver the curriculum sequentially. One downside is that the large number of students per teacher means there aren’t a lot of role models nearby; students learn a lot of their social skills from their age peers, who know as little as they do.

Instead of having their pool of potential friends and acquaintances limited to kids their own age that live in close proximity, unschooling children often have friends with a wide range of ages. But without that ready pool, how do unschoolers find friends? Through their interests. Karate. Building robots. Sports. Art. Video games. A shared interest is a much better basis for a developing friendship than age.

Having friends with a range of ages also gives children opportunities to nurture those that are younger or less experienced, actively play with those with similar interests and skill levels, and learn from those with more experience. Age is just not a defining factor outside the classroom, so neither is it a concern for unschoolers growing up day-to-day in the world.

(5) No vacation from learning

The learning is found in the living. Once your family is enmeshed in unschooling, it’s life. And there’s no need to take a vacation from life. Vacations are about exploring new places and experiencing fresh surroundings; not about escaping from obligations. Come June, my youngest is still asked if he gets the summer off and we just answer “No, we’ll just keep doing what we’re doing.” It’s a pretty meaningless concept when life is like summer vacation!

Those are just five of the many ways that unschooling looks different than school. It’s an entirely different way to live and learn! And it’s a lifestyle that not only supports real learning, but also the development of strong family relationships that will last far beyond the kids’ compulsory school years.

 

Building Strong Relationships With Your Kids

Are you feeling disconnected from one or more of your children? Or are you a working parent wanting to build a deeper relationship with your kids? Or a step-parent wanting to create solid relationships with your step-children?

A relationship is defined as a connection between two people, whether by blood, marriage, or emotion. It’s a rather perfunctory relationship that is built on blood only; a deeper and more fulfilling relationship is one built on emotion, even if its circumstances are based in blood. Building a meaningful relationship means emotionally connecting with the other person, getting to know and understand him or her. In a well-connected relationship between parent and child there is a beautiful give-and-take and flow, a high level of trust, and genuine respect. And in any relationship *you* want to build stronger, it is up to you to make the first move. So what can you do?

There are a couple of things that I often see get in the way when a parent is trying to connect/reconnect with a child and build a stronger relationship. The first is the parent not honestly evaluating how supportive he or she is of connecting opportunities when they appear. Think about the flow of your relationship with your children as it sits right now. When they ask you for help do you most often say yes? Do you consistently help right away or put them off until it’s more convenient for you, if ever? Maybe they’ve stopped asking for your help except as a last resort? Or does your spouse often ask you for help for them? Looking at these questions can help you see the signals you are giving them regarding your availability for connection. Each of these situations, if they occur with any regularity, interferes with the healthy give-and-take of a relationship.

Let’s look at the flow from the other direction. When you ask your child for help is the answer most often no? Are the answers to your general questions short and sweet, lacking the richer details that deepen an already well-connected relationship? These are clues that your child is feeling disconnected too.

The second thing I see time and again is the parent trying to connect with their child by attempting to pull the child to them rather than going to the child: “Want to go for a bike ride with me?” The answer is often no because as part of the relationship disconnect they likely don’t trust that you are suggesting the activity for their enjoyment. And are you really? Do you truly think it is something your child would enjoy, or is it really something that *you* would enjoy doing with them? There’s an incredibly important difference there.

How can you break this cycle? For the next while, just stop asking. You already know you are both feeling disconnected so stop creating moments that highlight this disconnect and increase frustration in the relationship. Stop asking questions where the answer is likely to be no or lacking in any meaningful detail.

So, if you’re not asking questions, not asking for help, not asking them to join you in activities, what do you do instead? Go to them; join your children in activities they enjoy. Take the time to see the world through their eyes. Spend some time quietly observing them so you start to see what kinds of things they like to do. Make getting to know them one of your high priority projects. Watch the TV shows and movies they like with them. No need to make conversation to connect; your relaxed presence is a starting point for building future connections. Let them just get used to your company. Maybe play their favourite board or video games with them. If they don’t yet want you to play with them, don’t take it personally; sit nearby and soak up their joy. Take your direction from them.

But don’t do these things passively; passionately spend this time observing and learning more about them. Creating a strong base of trust to build a relationship on is not about putting in time with your child but about using that time to actually learn who your child is: the activities she enjoys, the food she likes to eat, the kinds of clothes she prefers to wear – and the whys behind those answers. What are the signs that she is hungry or tired? What kind of humour does she enjoy? What kind does she have? Does she have a favourite seat by the TV? Does she like to go out-and-about regularly or does she prefer spending time at home?

If your child doesn’t like apples, don’t continue to offer him apples. Offer up his favourite seat if he comes to watch TV and you happen to be sitting there. Offer to take him to the park regularly if you know he likes to get out; and don’t if you learn he does not. Don’t offer advice while playing games together if you know he doesn’t like that. Bring him his favourite snack, or pick him up a t-shirt you’re quite sure he’ll like as an impromptu gift. Show him that you understand *him*. To build a relationship with your child is to connect with him as he truly is, not with an idealized version of a child you have in your mind.

In that same vein, don’t just imagine what a great relationship looks like to you and start acting like it already exists. That’s presumptuous and he likely won’t respond in kind. Even though your internal motivation has changed, your child can’t see that; your actions still look selfish from his current perspective. You have to *show* him and earn his trust, no short cuts.

And a quick note: If you are a working or newer-to-their-lives parent with a spouse that already has a strong relationship with the child, these ideas aren’t about trying to create the same relationship with your child or step-child or grandchild that your spouse has; they are about creating a strong base of trust from which your unique relationship with your child can grow.

Once you begin to deeply understand your child you can begin to connect with her where *she* is – that is the comfortable place from which she can welcome you. And once you know your child well you will be able to bring things to her that she will be much more likely to enjoy with you. And that’s a true connection: proof that you see *her*, that you understand who she really is.

As you create more and more of these connections your relationship will get stronger. And as you understand your children better you will see that their actions and reactions are truly grounded in who they are, not random outbursts designed to frustrate you. As you understand their actions better you will be less frustrated and more trusting of them. And with this developing trust comes true respect, a deep sense of the inherent worth of your children, which will most likely be reciprocated in abundance as you use this strong base to build uniquely wonderful relationships together.

Have fun!

 

Seeing Through Your Child’s Eyes

Recently, I’ve found myself replying to unschooling list posts with some variation of “take the time to see things through your child’s eyes”. It’s an important shift of perspective, one that is key to learning about unschooling, so I thought I’d take a moment to dig into what it really means.

Dreamer by Lissy Elle (lissyelle.com)

One important note on what we’re going to do: it’s about the process, not the product. What I mean is, this exercise of “seeing things through your child’s eyes” does not provide a universally “correct” interpretation of a situation. Everyone is different. Their motivations and actions / reactions will be based on the interplay of their unique personality and life experiences, adult or child, so this analysis isn’t meant to provide an “answer”. The clues discussed may mean different things for different people.

This exercise is about looking at the process of gathering the clues the child is leaving, digging into them and developing a hypothesis about what the mom might do to help support her child and their relationship, and to take that understanding into their next interaction. And then doing it all again – gathering clues from that next interaction, thinking on them, further developing understanding – round and round.

So, let’s go through an example together. I’ll pick a hypothetical story from my book, Free to Learn:

It’s a beautiful fall day and you are looking forward to going for a walk. Jeremy quickly pulls on his running shoes, dashes out the door, and shouts, “Come on, Mom!” Your smile falters as you notice his sweater still hanging on the hook, remembering the talk you gave him just yesterday about wearing it when he goes out in this cooler weather. As you walk through the door you say firmly, “Jeremy, get back here and put on your sweater!” A beat passes and you add, “NOW!” Running back he protests that he’s not cold, but you insist. He does as he’s told but his excitement has waned and the joyful stroll you envisioned has morphed into a determined march around the block accompanied by repeated moans about the sweater, and you both head back inside.

Why is this an interaction that would inspire the mom to dig into and learn from? Because they were both unhappy with the result: Neither of them enjoyed the walk in the end.

In fact, even if only one party is unhappy with the outcome of a situation, it’s worth some time to examine. Building a trusting relationship means taking both the time to try to understand the other person deeply enough to anticipate their unhappiness, and the time to work together to try to find a path forward that those involved are comfortable with.

First, let’s take a look from the Mom’s perspective. What clues do we have that point to the thoughts and motivations behind her actions?

She wants to enjoy a walk outside: It’s a beautiful fall day and she’s expecting Jeremy will enjoy going for a walk with her (she’s smiling at the thought, and he’s happily calling to her get the activity started).


She is adamant that Jeremy wear a sweater outside: Not only does she ask him to wear a sweater, she’s insistent, not only when they leave the house, but also throughout the walk.

From her perspective, I imagine it seems like a reasonable request (or she wouldn’t be so insistent). It’s cold outside, and she likely feels more comfortable in a sweater so it makes sense to her that Jeremy will too. She probably extrapolates the colder weather into imagining Jeremy sick with a cold and the challenges that can pose, so she wants to take any reasonable actions she can to prevent that outcome. Besides, wearing a sweater does not impede Jeremy’s physical movements on the walk at all so she probably doesn’t see an issue at all. She might well think that, as his parent, Jeremy should trust her implicitly. He should know her actions are motivated by love, whether or not he understands her motivation for insisting he wear a sweater. She likely wants him to learn that “cold outside temperatures means wear warmer clothes”. And maybe she feels that changing her mind once the activity started will show “weakness” and encourage Jeremy to argue with her in the future.

It’s all rather understandable, from her point-of-view.

But now let’s look at the interaction from Jeremy’s perspective and find clues that might point to how he interprets the situation.

Jeremy wants to enjoy a walk outside: You can tell he’s excited about the activity because he gets ready and out the door quickly, and calls for mom to join him.


Jeremy does not want to wear a sweater: He leaves the house without it, he hesitates to return when asked, and he complains about it throughout the walk.

So, from Jeremy’s perspective, looking at the situation through his eyes, what might these clues tell us?

We know he’s happy at the thought of spending time with his mom, of walking around the block. Once she insists he wear a sweater though, his mood changes. His actions suggest that he’s likely just as sure as she is that the opposite is true: He’ll be uncomfortably hot wearing the sweater during the walk. If he wasn’t quite sure, he probably wouldn’t be so insistent. He’d grab the sweater and be on his way. His insistence means it’s an important point to him. Maybe it’s another clue in a larger pattern of ongoing power struggles between them, pointing to bigger issues. Or maybe he’s frustrated his mom hasn’t realized he’s always feeling hot. In that instance, he probably feels like his mom is ignoring his real needs and doesn’t trust him to take care of himself. That she’s spouting rules without taking the time to consider his perspective. Another example, to him, that she doesn’t really care about him.

Looking through Jeremy’s eyes, his thoughts and reactions are understandable as well!

So, after you have analyzed the situation, picked out the clues, and hypothesized how your child probably interpreted the situation, ask yourself, “Is that what you wanted him or her to learn from the situation?”

It’s so easy for the parent to think they are “teaching” one thing, while the child is learning something completely different. Taking the time to look at a situation through the child’s eyes gives us a chance to not only better understand our child, but to also understand how they are interpreting the messages we are sending them through our actions.

Are the messages we want to send and the messages they seem to receive, different? If so, it’s time to figure out why and start trying to communicate, i.e. act, in ways that better deliver the message we intend.

So, in this hypothetical situation, how might Jeremy’s mom take this new understanding and better communicate next time? Once she realizes, through her son’s resistance to wearing a sweater, that this is important to him, even if she doesn’t understand why, she can show her trust by dropping her own insistence. The power struggle is avoided and the situation is no longer about their relationship (who can insist longer, who has the power to control whom) and more about the son’s real physical needs–and that’s what the mom likely wanted him to learn about in the first place, how to take care of his physical needs.

And to support him even further in that learning, she can bring the sweater along. That gives him the opportunity to choose to put it on during the walk if he gets uncomfortably cold. Knowing the sweater is available, he is continuously choosing whether or not to put it on during their walk. He gains experience and learns more about what his mom is wanting him to learn–how to take care of his physical needs.

The result? They are both physically comfortable and enjoy the walk, adding another happy and connecting experience that strengthens their relationship and builds their trust in one another.

Taking the time to see things through your child’s eyes is not about giving up your perspective, or judging the child’s perspective right or wrong. It’s about understanding your children better, improving your communication with them, and building a more strongly connected and trusting relationship.

Take that time–it’s worth it!

Curious About Unschooling?

Nice, shiny new blog. It got me thinking of the time when I was new to unschooling. And with the recent media interest in unschooling, more and more people are curious, so I thought writing a bit about the process of learning about unschooling would be apropos.

What are some of the questions that are typically pondered when people begin to explore unschooling? There are some questions I’m asked over and over by people who are interested in our educational choices. Assuming the questioner is sincere, here are some of the short answers I’ve given to start them thinking along unschooling lines.

Why short answers? Because in my experience, long answers usually go too deeply into the topic and cause listener to tune out and/or forget the question they started with. If they are still curious and want to learn more, they will ask more questions!

Question 1: How will they learn if you don’t teach them?

Answer: They enjoy figuring things out and I certainly help them with any questions they have.

What unschooling ideas does that answer imply? That learning is fun; that people like to understand things; and that the parents are supportive i.e. the kids aren’t left alone to sink or swim.

Question 2: How will they learn what they need to know if you don’t follow a curriculum?

Answer: Well, curricula just try to lay out skills and knowledge they think a typical person would need to live when they graduate into the real world. We just flip that around: we live in the real world now and the kids pick up those skills and that knowledge along the way.

This answer could spark thoughts in so many directions: the purpose of curricula, and schooling, for that matter; the idea that learning is separate from the real world; the question of whether curricula might include things that the person might never need to know, and vice versa, might a person need to know something that wasn’t in the curricula; whether one-size fits all curricula are a useful answer to the diversity of lives students will be living, and more.

Question 3: If they aren’t in a school with other kids, how will they learn how to get along with others?

Answer: They meet lots of people, over a wide range of ages. Instead of gathering in school based on their age, they meet up with others around their interests, in person and online. Girl guides, karate, message boards, family.

Questions this might spark: What does socialization really mean? Is the age-controlled school environment really a decent preparation for getting along with the range of ages found in the real world? Is meeting over shared interests more apt to grow meaningful friendships rather than being the same age and living in the same geographical area? Are online friendships also meaningful?

Question 4: If you don’t test, how do you know they’re learning?

Answer: I don’t have a classroom full of kids and I’m hanging out with them much of the time. I see them using new skills as we go about our day, we have conversations and I hear them using new words and sharing new ideas, and I see where their learning is taking them as I help them dive into their interests.

This might encourage the questioner to think about things like the purpose of testing; whether testing is a function of class size; how one observes learning; and if testing is the only way to judge learning.

The Deschooling Process

For the parents, deschooling is the process of digging deeply into your beliefs about education, about learning, about living with children. It’s about exploring those beliefs–pulling them, pushing them, flipping them on their head–and seeing what you really think.

Learning about unschooling isn’t like learning in school. It’s not “learn this, do that, and move on.” It isn’t a one-time endeavour, it’s a process. You’ll likely read and research and reach some sort of understanding you’re comfortable with. Then, as you spend time with your children, being with them from your new perspective, you’ll see those ideas in action, blossoming in your interactions with your children, deepening your understanding of unschooling. Wonderful! But don’t be complacent. Chances are, if you take some time to dig deeper you’ll have another aha moment. And another. Just like you’d learn about other interests. The more you know, the more connections to related things you’ll discover, and the more you know. It’s a wonderful circle of living and learning.

And it doesn’t stop: living and unschooling with your children continues to be a process. Even as you gain a deep understanding of unschooling, your children will grow and change, and your thoughts, ideas, and way of interacting with them need to keep up. And as they get older, new situations can trigger pockets of beliefs you hold that have yet to be examined.

As a bonus, the open and questioning way of thinking that allows people to wrap their head around the concept of unschooling, gives one a frame of mind that is so helpful for processing anything that life brings.

You can read some more about deschooling on my website:

http://livingjoyfully.ca/unschooling/getting_started/what_is_deschooling.htm

If you’re new to unschooling and are still curious after these short answers, feel free to ask more questions in the comments!

Welcome!

My name’s Pam Laricchia. I’ve been blogging on and off over the years on blogspot but during my most recent website overhaul I decided to host the blog myself. I feel more responsible for it that way, and I sleep a bit better having more control of my data and my writing, which I anticipate will continue to accumulate over the upcoming years.

You can find out all sorts of more formal stuff about me and my online presence on the About page. I don’t want to rehash that in my welcome post, so here I’ll share some more personal and fun tidbits about being Pam.

fun family portrait while on vacation in Grand Cayman, Oct 2011

A common thread throughout my life has been computers. My Dad worked with them in the 60s and we had one at home from my early teens, using handset modems to dial in and play text adventure games. My first computer accompanied me through five years of university in the 80s as I got my dual degree in engineering physics and commerce (B. Eng. & Mgmt.). Having specialized in nuclear engineering, my first job was at the local nuclear power plant where I worked in maintenance engineering (not at a clean desk in the admin building, that more hands-off stuff never interested me) and earned my P. Eng designation, though I quickly gravitated to data collection and reporting. Then to the IT department where I wrote various client/server programs, designed well-received data tracking systems and reports, and then dove into data warehousing, supervising a pretty big DW project before I left to focus on what I felt was my most important job: mother to my now three kids.

Over the last 10 years or so at home I’ve continued to learn and program because it draws and excites me, from VBScript to html to php. Yesterday I was giddily telling my hubby about coding proportionally in css for my ebook formatting, and how it allows the reader’s unique e-reader settings to shine through without messing up how my ebook looks. Yeah, his eyes glazed over about halfway through that sentence too. LOL!

Now that my geek has peeked through the window, let’s throw open the curtains! What else do you probably not know … hmm.

Growing up my passion was ballet. For 12 or so years I could be found at my favourite ballet studio most nights of the week and the spring season would find our close-knit performance group busily rehearsing and performing. Some highlights of my amateur career included two weeks at a summer dance camp in New York (I think I was 12), the year we spent living in Sarnia, Ontario when my Mom drove me into London three nights a week for classes (snowstorms and singing LOTS of Billy Joel), being given a couple solos in the performace group (including the Doll Dance on pointe, adapted from The Nutcracker), and at 16/17 driving myself into Toronto three nights a week to take classes at the Lois Smith Dance School at George Brown College. At the end of that year I thought long and hard and, in the end, decided not to pursue a professional dance career. But I would never trade my years immersed in dance for anything! I learned so much about myself and how I tick, and I kept happily busy doing something I loved. Way cool.

I did branch out a bit and spend a couple summers involved with car racing alongside my then-boyfriend’s family. I volunteered and worked registration and pit crew at Mosport, and one summer they let me race their car! Shannonville, not Mosport, and only until said boyfriend crashed and put the souped-up VW out of commission for the rest of the season, but it was all very exciting and interesting. I still remember and use much of the driving knowledge I gathered during that time.

And last, but never least, I LOVE learning. It’s important to me to understand things for myself. I don’t take things I’m told at face value, I need for them to make sense in my world, in my experience. A quote that has guided me since I first read it at age 14: “Whenever you find yourself facing an apparent contradiction, check your premises. You will find that one of them is wrong.” (Francisco D’Anconia, Altas Shrugged) When something doesn’t make sense to me, I try to remember to check my premises. I constrast what I’ve been told against what I’ve experienced, and what I’ve seen firsthand, especially with my children. This was the perspective from which I began to question mainstream parenting and education. And it’s been an amazing ride ever since!