General Knowledge

I had a conversation with another unschooling mom not long ago. We were talking about the way that concerned family members express their doubts about unschooling. She shared that her mom rarely asks about their unschooling way of life because it's just easier not to know all the details. My friend figures that by not asking for details, her mom can create her own, more easily digestible version of what their homeschooling life looks like. This makes sense to me. I can only imagine how confusing it must be for people not familiar with the ideas behind unschooling.

My friend did go on to report, however, that her mom recently asked a few questions. They were chatting on the phone and her mom asked how the kids were and what they were up to. After my friend's response that they were fine and that they were really enjoying their circus class, her mom paused. "Honey? I'm just wondering," she stammered. "How are they going to get, you know....general knowledge, without ever having been to school?" My friend and I laughed as she continued telling me about the conversation.

General knowledge. Hmmmmm. Let's see. Did she mean those mundane and completely irrelevant details that we all spent hours and hours memorizing in school so that we can to this day amaze our friends when we play Trivial Pursuit or Jeopardy? I don't know about you, but I didn't learn "general knowledge" in a classroom. I learned it everywhere else.

Today at our Unschoolers' Park Day, we were discussing the various forms of this supposed general knowledge. Is it the information one needs in order to navigate the world around them? Is it a set of skills that allow someone to perform a particular task? Could it be that general knowledge is simply the term people use to describe the kind of "smarts" that a person should have so that they don't appear to be stupid or ignorant? We went around the table and shared about times in our lives when we felt like we "should" have known something that we in fact did not. Mostly our experiences conveyed feelings of inadequacy, that horrible sense of feeling foolish.

The thing about our unschooled kids, though, is that they have yet to experience that feeling of: "I should know this, and I don't...what will they think of me?" If you don't believe that memorizing irrelevant bits of information to please and amaze your teachers and friends is important, than it doesn't matter anyway. I shared in a post recently that my daughter Macy didn't even flinch when a well meaning friend asked her to name a particular state on the map. When I say she didn't flinch, I don't mean that she answered the question immediately. She didn't. Rather, she asked a question in return: Why? I was stunned, and proud. I took her question to mean: What relevance does that bit of information have for you and why are you putting me on the spot?

My unschooling friends and I agreed that in this day and age, it takes about 12 seconds to Google something and find out that little factoid you never knew. I recall at some point in Junior High or High School memorizing the three branches of our US government and their particular functions. I probably passed that test and maybe even wrote a paper about it. I don't remember that information today. It is not relevant for me in my day to day life. Anyway, if I really need to know more about US Government, I can call up my good friend Maud, who knows a ton. She grew up in DC and has always been a political activist. It's an important skill to know who to ask.

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

It's working!

We've got a whole lotta readin', writin', and knittin' goin' on at our house. Last night, as I was doing the dinner dishes (okay, breakfast and lunch, too) and chatting on the phone, I realized that each one of my kids had found their own little corner of the house and was completely absorbed in a project. Janey, 11, was upstairs in her room knitting and listening to a book on tape. Charley, 6, was sitting at the table writing out a note for Santa to paste on the front window. This from a child who had zero interest in letters and reading until 4 days ago. Macy, 9, was parked on the couch (as she had been all day) playing herself in a game of Monopoly. (fascinating to watch, she actually knew who was winning - "I'm winning and losing, Mom"). From time to time she would take a break (perhaps to let her other half contemplate her next move?) to read the chapter book she's almost done with. It was an amazing moment, when I hung up the phone and dried my hands, to realize that my kids have reached that stage of being able to occupy themselves. Sometimes for more than a few minutes!

The most amazing piece in all of this awareness for me, is that these are the times when I know for sure that what we do is "working." This is very different than saying that it always works, of course. I have multiple moments most every day where I question my ability to even be a parent, let alone raise kids as unschoolers. Especially when we are driving each other bananas or are irritable or bored. But regardless of the mood in the house or the events of a particular day, I look to moments like this for the validation that I need in order to carry on in this way another day.

Unschooling, for me, is about taking what works and running with it. My kids have no need for me to teach them in an academic way. They are perfectly capable of asking questions when they want answers and letting me know in subtle (and not so subtle) ways that they need something from me. To me, unschooling is simply an extension of the kind of parenting most parents do when their children are very young. Young children have needs, lots of them. Most parents spend the bulk of their days attending to and meeting those needs. The learning (schooling, in this case) happens organically. A toddler has a need to get outside to run around and play. A parent may use that time to show the child how to hold hands crossing the street or how to share a favorite toy. The child may point up in the sky at an airplane passing overhead, which may lead to a conversation about things that fly. We still do that. It just gets more involved.

Today we were standing in line at the post office. A man several people in front of me had a very unhappy toddler in his arms. The little boy was squirming and whining and kicking his feet. He had major needs. His needs were being ignored. These moments are always tough for me. I smiled at the boy, who was facing me. The woman behind me played peek-a-boo with him, hoping to distract him from his discomfort. As I forced myself to suspend all judgment of this man's lack of attention to his child (we've all been there), I reflected on the ways that we tend to ignore the needs of children, especially those who cannot yet speak. In my experience, sometimes all a child needs is to feel heard. I wanted so badly to validate that small child's needs in line at the post office. I wanted to reach out and touch his sweet face and tell him that I heard him. That I could see how uncomfortable he was and how hard it is to wait. He didn't need words to tell me. I could see that he had something to say.

Unschooling has taught me that kids often have something important to say. My challenge is to help provide an atmosphere where their voices can be heard.

New Post up at the Life Without School Community Blog

I have a new post up today at the other blog called Life Without School. It's a response to a reader's question about how you can unschool as a single parent. For those of you who haven't seen it, it's a magazine style blog with a variety of contributors. I'm one of them. Check it out.

http://lifewithoutschool.typepad.com/lifewithoutschool/2007/12/unschooling-as.html#comment-92082186

Salute - A Quick and Easy Math Game (that doesn't feel schoolish at all)

I don't typically teach my kids things in a traditional way. We unschool, so things come up as we move through our life and we learn about them as they happen. Because I was a teacher, way back when, I have a few tricks up my sleeve, but mostly I follow their lead and try to get creative when they ask for something specific.

Lately, we've been playing tons of games. One of my favorite math games is called Salute. It is a simple card game that practices addition and subtraction facts. It can be used for multiplication and division as well. I worked with a principal many years ago who taught this to me. All you need are three people and a deck of cards. I use what I call leftover decks. You know all those decks of cards that are missing a few? Don't throw them away. They come in very handy. Depending upon the skill level of the children, I sort the deck, pulling out all face cards and higher numbers, if necessary.

Once you have your deck of digits, deal them to two players (called flippers). The third player will play, but will not need any cards. The three players sit in a triangle. The two players with cards begin by each flipping over their top card and holding it to their foreheads so that the other two players can see them. It is important that they not look at their own cards, only the card of the other card flipper. The two flippers should now have cards on their foreheads. The third player adds up the two digits and calls out the sum. The two flippers now subtract the number they can see (the flipper sitting opposite them) from the sum to get the number shown on their own card. They then call out their number.

Players can take turns being flippers and non-flippers to practice both subtraction and addition. It's fun, fast and a great way to play around with math.

Childhood Dreams

Janey, age 11, told me this afternoon that her childhood dream was coming true. We laughed because the other day I told her gleefully that my childhood dream had finally come true. It only took 29 years, but I finally got my very own pair of Dorothy Hamill ice skates. White, never been used, they even have the blade guards on them, and I only paid $7.99 for them at Goodwill. I love it when that happens. Every Christmas, from the time I was about 8 years old, that was all I wanted to show up under the tree. White ice skates, just like Dorothy Hamill. We skated at the outdoor rink in our town this weekend and I couldn't stop smiling.

Janey didn't have to wait quite as long. She finally has her own room. It's been an exhausting day of disassembling furniture, reassembling furniture, unpacking bookshelves, repacking bookshelves, sorting through books and clothes and crap. It's been fun and not so fun and I'm pretty sure the chaos of moving will all be over tomorrow, but Janey finally has her own room.

I've been resisting this for months. We live in a very small house, and finding a private space for everyone is a huge challenge. Janey and her younger brother Charley have shared the big bedroom for almost a year. Over the past few months Janey has moved into a new developmental stage and her pesky brother can't do anything right. I had the smaller bedroom to myself and justified that because I work from home and need space for my desk. I couldn't imagine sharing my room. It would never work. Macy has the closet under the stairs and loves it. No chance she'd be willing to give that up. For a long time I held Janey off. I told her that converting the attic into a bedroom was too big a project for me right now, so she was just going to have to deal with sharing for a while longer.

The other night, it hit me. I had this huge shift. Janey has been so patient with her brother. She is discovering a new found independence and spends hours and hours alone reading, listening to music, writing letters and daydreaming, only to be interrupted by a busy, noisy 6 year old constantly. As the oldest of four, I remember all too well what it was like to crave the quiet of my very own room. I didn't get mine until the summer before I turned 15. As I reflected on Janey's needs and got clear about my own, I realized that Charley and I could easily share a room. He takes up very little space and ends up in bed with me most nights anyway. It was a perfect solution.

Even though I'm exhausted, and there is still so much to put away, it feels so good to be able to give Janey what she needs right now. I think this new arrangement is really going to work. Knowing us, it will all shake up and change in 6 months anyway. Raising kids and unschooling have taught me to stretch my ideas of what will work. Once again I've had the humbling experience of realizing that my kids really do know what they need most of the time. All I have to do is pay attention.

Proud, Car-Free Mama

I am so proud of my kids right now. I knew I'd better write about it fast, before the wind changes and they are driving me nuts.

I finally sold the van. There was a big part of me that really, honestly, never thought it would actually sell. I mean saying that you're going to sell your car and go car free is all well and good, but actually being car free is a very different story. We've officially been car free for 6 days, and I'm so darn proud of my kids. They've ridden home, on their bikes, in the dark, in the cold, after long, full, fun days out in the world, and they are still smiling.

I've heard it said that it takes ninety days to kick a habit, and I think that's just about how long it took us to break our car habit. At the end of August I made the decision to not fix the van and posted it for sale. Although we had already been biking and taking the bus from time to time, I sat the kids down and explained that we needed to seriously commit ourselves to using the van less. The sweltering heat of the summer was subsiding and we began to pretty much walk and ride everywhere.

The first few weeks, the kids would walk to the car anytime it was time to go somewhere. I would remind them that we were biking and the whining would begin. "I'm too tired." "It's too far." "I hate my bike." As we moved into late September, the whining shifted to a low grumble. I started parking our van on the street and we began using our parking space for bike parking. I cleaned out the van so that it no longer stored extra shoes, jackets, water bottles, books, whatever. We were now down to driving once or twice a week, at most. By October, when the cold set in and we got some rain, the kids began begging me to take the bus rather than bike. Yeeesssss. That's when I knew we were on our way to kickin' the habit. They were begging me to let them take the bus. I think I'm in heaven.

The van sold last Tuesday. I got what I asked for, a very fair price, I thought. The new owners, a young couple with a 9 month old baby, were so excited they wanted to drive it away that night without even test driving it. As they drove away the next morning (I convinced them to come back in the morning so they could sleep on it and at least see it in broad daylight) the kids and I cheered. We did it! Then we looked at one another. It was really gone. "I feel kinda sad," Janey murmured. "I didn't realize that last night would be the last time I rode in our van. That's sad." I agreed. I was sad, too. And a little scared. Now we were really car free. Yikes.

The reason I'm so proud of my kids is that they have embraced being car free completely. It's been about ninety days, and we're no longer experiencing symptoms of withdrawal. When it's time to go somewhere, we grab our scarves and gloves and rain gear and we hop on our bikes. It refreshing and fun and good for us in so many ways. Tonight we were riding home from dinner at a friend's house. It was late, and very cold, but we were all excited about how invigorating the ride home would feel in the moonlight. At one point Macy shouted, "I'm hot and cold all at the same time.......weird!" My kids, and I are learning how to live a little lighter on this earth. And I am so proud.

Gratitude

Yesterday was one of those days when I couldn't remember why in the world I would choose to live life without school. School would mean a daily 8 hour break from the chaos. The kids were irritable and grouchy and bickered most of the morning. At one point I took a shower, just so that I could escape the negative vibes that were being thrown around the house.

And then, suddenly, without warning, it was peaceful. Janey and Charley were happily rearranging the furniture in their room. Macy was quietly sketching at the table downstairs. All was calm. How do they do that? In an instant, my kids went from angry, hate-filled creatures to angelic cherubs. It took me a few hours to recover. I was still reeling from the thought that my children were going to grow up to be psycho-paths who would never get along with anyone, ever, in the world. They were fine. They moved on. Just like that. Kids have an amazing ability to stay in the present. They teach me to forgive and move on. Just like that. Amazing.

Today is a new day, and my house is quiet because the kids are with their dad for the holiday. Today I am grateful for the stillness and at the same time, I am grateful for the way my home fills up with their energy when they come home. Today I am grateful.