Everything's Harder When you Don't Feel Like Doing It

As I was tucking Macy, age 9, into bed last night, we had one of those sweet, late night conversations. Macy is my middle child and lives in the closet under the stairs. Seriously. Our house is small and we have had to get creative in figuring out how to fit three growing kids, a work from home mom, and various pets into our teeny, tiny 2 bedroom house. Macy was the perfect candidate for the Harry Potter room. It's a tight space and it's hard to fit all of her stuff in it, but she loves it.

When I tuck her in her bed at night I have to remember to crouch at just the right angle so as to avoid whacking the back of my neck on the doorway. Most days her stuff accumulates in her doorway and spills out into the living room. I end up kicking it back in so I can shut the door. At the end of the night, she has to wade through the pile to get to her bed and we have the same conversation each night as we are saying goodnight.

Macy: "Didn't I just clean this room?"
Me: "Seems like it, huh?"
Macy: "I'll do it first thing tomorrow, when it will be easier."
Me: "What about the morning makes it easier?"
Macy: "Everything's easier when you feel like doing it, you know?"
Me: "Yep, I know."

I got to thinking about the tasks that exist in my life that I rarely feel like doing: housework, filing papers, paying bills, reorganizing the growing pile of CDs on top of the stereo. And yet, regardless of my feelings about it, there are times when they must be done. In the course of a day, or a week, or even a month, they all, eventually, get done. But they are usually the tasks that are last on my list. Long after knitting, reading, running, writing, eating and sitting on the couch with the newspaper and a cup of tea. I try to remember this when I feel the need to pester my kids to get their things done. I know how it feels to not be in the mood. I'm often not in the mood.

A parent asked me the other day, "But what happens if my daughter never does want to learn how to read? What will I do then?" This is a parent who has been frustrated with her current schooling situation and wanted to know more about unschooling. Her daughter is creative and artistic and intelligent and could care less about reading. She's 8 years old. I suppose you could say it's last of her list. I feel for this mom, I really do. It must be agonizing to wonder if it really is possible to let go and trust kids to learn what they want, how they want, and when they want to.

"What if I regret unschooling later?" she asked. The answer for me is simple. I have always said that we will unschool as long as it is working. As soon as it isn't working anymore, we'll stop. I secretly know that this day will never come. My kids may decide someday that they're missing out, or there is something they want that school has to offer. I've told myself this may happen. When that day comes, I have told myself that if I truly am an unschooler, I will let them go. I will support them as best I can. And I will be ready and waiting when, and if, they decide to come back home.

Will this sweet, bright, artistic 8 year old never want to learn to read? I doubt it. But if she were my daughter, I suppose I would many, many more years before worrying about that eventuality. Unschooling has taught me to keep the focus on today. Do my children have what they need today? The answer is yes, for the most part. Macy's room is still messy. The pile of papers and unpaid bills still lies on my desk. Everything's harder when you don't feel like doing it.

Better than Christmas

We could hardly sleep last night. This morning we all jumped out of bed and hurried through breakfast. The kids looked like they had ants in their pants as we walked to the bus stop. We giggled and grinned and couldn't wait for the doors to open. We waited six very long months and it finally happened: Our town's library re-opened today.

Some of you may have read my post a few months ago about the controversy surrounding the closure. After ballot measures, failed levies, passed levies, community meetings, and letters to the editor, we have our libraries once again. They're just not public anymore. Our county decided to out source our library system to a company in Maryland to keep costs down. We've apparently got 3 years before we have to figure something else out. This is not good news. I can no longer refer to our library as public. We now visit the private library. It just doesn't feel right.

As we waited excitedly on the front steps of the building this morning, newspaper and radio reporters swirled around interviewing us. The kids were too excited to sit still, but I agreed to answer a few questions. I did say that it felt a lot like Christmas morning. The anticipation of waiting for months to have access to all those books, magazines, tapes, CDs, movies, and newspapers once again was amazing. I can't even count the number of times over the past six months that I had to stop myself mid-sentence as I suggested to the kids that we head to the library to find out more about something cool we were curious about. It was heartbreaking.

I explained to the reporters that it was bizarre to think that this is time in our lives our kids would remember as The time we had no libraries. What does that say about our priorities? What does that say about our culture? Our government? I was asked if we found ourselves using the internet more often over the past 6 months to fill our library needs. This question really irked me. The argument that our society no longer needs libraries because of the internet will never, ever fly with me. A warm, dry, safe gathering place, that does not charge admission for use, full of public information could never be replaced by the internet. Sure, we can Google milkweed pods when we want to know more, but we can actually go to the library and get so much more.

At 10 o'clock sharp, the doors were unlocked. As the kids walked through the doors my eyes filled up with tears. It was like coming home again. They walked right past the juice and cookies as they made a bee line for the children's section. Within 10 minutes, our towering stack of books was teetering on the edge of the table, while magazines and books on tape were spilling out of my bag and onto the floor. The shelves were overflowing. I hadn't really considered the fact that this would be the one time that all library materials would be on the shelves and not in circulation. The movie section looked like a video store! It was hard to not grab everything in sight. As the kids settled in, I headed upstairs with my wish list. All of my choices were there! It really was like Christmas! When we finally checked out later, a reporter asked us how many items we'd checked out. We counted over 60 items!!!

As we made our way home and interacted with neighbors and friends, there were knowing smiles and a buzz in the air. The library? Have you been? Did you go? Were you there? Is it true? By late afternoon, we just had to go back. I reminded the kids that the library would indeed be open tomorrow, and many days after that. But we had to go back. So we did. Just a few more books, okay Mom? You bet. Living life without school means we have loads of time to hang out at the library. It's been a long six months. I'm not happy about the solution our County Commissioners came up with, but I am very grateful to have our libraries open once again.

The Perpetual Field Trip

Unschooling, for us, is really just like one big field trip. We take our time in the mornings, but once we're up and out, we are on the go most of the time. There's just so much to see and do and so little time. It' s a big, wide world out there, and we don't want to miss a thing. I think that if my kids ever had to go to school, that would be the hardest part. Losing all those hours every day of doing what we want to do, when we want to do it.

Tonight we went to see the movie In the Shadow of the Moon. It's a documentary by Ron Howard on the Apollo missions to the moon. It's very well done. Charley, who's 6, only got squirrely at the end. The movie is made up of television footage of the various missions as well as commentary by the astronauts who went to the moon. Talk about science and social studies lessons! I whispered in the kids' ears throughout most of the film, reading captions and explaining historical figures and important events. We kept the conversation going the whole way home, through dinner, and into bedtime. I'm sure we'll pick it back up at breakfast tomorrow as well. President Kennedy, Martin Luther King, Jr., the Vietnam War, women's lib., the Civil Rights Movement. Test pilots, engineers, rockets, atmosphere, gravity. Phew. We've got a lot of material to cover. And it doesn't have to end because the bell rang or because the unit study is supposed to be over or because it's time to move on to the Renaissance. As long as it is interesting and fun, we'll keep on exploring, and we will all keep on learning. My kids and I have an unspoken contract in this life. I promise to never ask them to write a 5 paragraph essay on what they learned today. They promise to always let me know when they are done learning about something. It's that simple. Their cues aren't hard to miss.

As the credits rolled on the film, my friend and her sister packed up their things, while I asked the kids to help gather our trash as we inched down the aisle. Between my three and my friend's two kids, we were quite a sight, I'm sure. My friend's sister, not yet a parent, laughed as we followed them out of the theater, "Man, I feel like I've just chaperoned a field trip or something." Yep, that's pretty much it. Life is one big field trip.

I got the socialization question again the other day. "Aren't you worried about socialization if your kids aren't in school? How will they ever learn to be with other kids?" My answers? No. and: They will learn to be with other kids.... by being with other kids....in the world, not in a classroom! Tonight they learned to whisper in a darkened movie theater. They learned to pick up after themselves when the movie is over. They learned that the people behind you can't see when you prop your feet up on the seat in front of you. They learned that there is more money for popcorn when you bring drinks from home. They learned that movie theaters are often empty on school nights, and a whole lot more.

The Good Stuff

Last night I was out with two other former teachers. I actually had no idea that either of the other women had been teachers, but the conversation eventually made it's way around to the fact that we had all, at some point in the past, taught elementary school kids. One of the women at the table knew that my kids didn't go to school. The questions began. I started out cautious, as I sometimes do, especially with teachers. Teachers work hard. Most teachers are creative and passionate and care a lot about kids and education. I tread lightly when admitting to a teacher that I don't send my kids to school. So, when she asked what curriculum I used, I told the truth. I just didn't admit from the get-go that not using someone else's curriculum meant that I wasn't staying up late every Sunday night creating my own. Good teachers do that.

But as the conversation progressed and we got to know one another a little better, I let my guard down and told the truth. No curriculum, no lessons, no grades, no tests. Only the good stuff. I explained that even in the most creative and alternative schools that I had the good fortune to teach in, the good stuff rarely came in the form of pre-planned lessons and texts. For me, as a teacher, and now as an unschooling mom, the good stuff is never planned. It's invariably the unplanned, the tangents, the brilliant conclusions kids draw for themselves without any help from an adult. It's that question that your child asks randomly in the car on the way to the grocery store. It's that milkweed pod that your son picks up on the walk home that inspires a quest to find out all you can about this groovy little plant. It's the hours and hours spent each day asking questions, answering questions, snuggling up and reading together, finding out, discovering the world, being curious. And not because anyone said you had to.

My friends agreed. We swapped stories about some of our best teaching moments and one theme rang true: Our best moments in the classroom were all about the kids. Those bright, empowered, amazing little people that were capable of anything. We all agreed that we had learned so much from those kids, that we, in fact had been the students, and they, our teachers in many ways. Even after this deep and meaningful conversation, I don't know that I converted anyone to become an unschooler. Living life without school makes lots and lots of people uncomfortable for many reasons. But I am aware that I must continue to put myself out there in these situations and tell the truth. My truth, that is. When I read statements like the one below from the NEA, I realize that I must educate others about the importance of parental choice in education. It seems that the National Educational Association in their 2007-2008 Resolutions has taken a stand against homeschooling.

It reads: "The National Education Association believes that home schooling programs based on parental choice cannot provide the student with a comprehensive education experience. When home schooling occurs, students enrolled must meet all state curricular requirements, including the taking and passing of assessments to ensure adequate academic progress. Home schooling should be limited to the children of the immediate family, with all expenses being borne by the parents/guardians. Instruction should be by persons who are licensed by the appropriate state education licensure agency, and a curriculum approved by the state department of education should be used.
The Association also believes that home-schooled students should not participate in any extracurricular activities in the public schools.
The Association further believes that local public school systems should have the authority to determine grade placement and/or credits earned toward graduation for students entering or re-entering the public school setting from a home school setting."

Statements like this remind me that we've got some educating to do. Don't be afraid to speak out about your right to choose the best way to educate your child. If you're inspired and want to make a difference, sign the petition as well.

Pop Quiz

This morning a friend stopped by to show someone our house. This happens often. My neighbors and I built our homes in 2006 as part of a sweat equity program. People who have an interest in community development and affordable housing often want to see them. As I was telling our story and showing off our super-cool house, my friend noticed the large US map we have on the wall in the living room, and decided to give Macy, age 9, a geography quiz. He covered up the name Nebraska, and said, "Hey Macy, which state is this?" Macy stared at him unamused. For a split second, I panicked. She doesn't know that one. He's going to think I'm a horrible parent for not teaching her which state is Nebraska. He doesn't get unschooling. Maybe I should.... But before I could say a word, he asked her again, "Which state is this?" Macy didn't flinch. She looked him straight in the eye, "Why?" she asked. I relaxed. That's my girl. My friend smiled, "Excellent question."

The whole experience made me realize that because my kids have never been to school, they are not accustomed to being asked to regurgitate random bits of information. I honestly can't remember the last time a well meaning relative asked them to recite their times tables or to name the capital of Iowa. And I love that to them there is nothing shameful about not knowing the answer. My school-ish brain and fragile ego were the ones reacting to the pop quiz, not Macy. After all, why should she know the shape and placement of Nebraska? We've never been there. She doesn't know anyone who lives there. We haven't read a book lately that takes place there. Nebraska may be hanging on our wall, but up until today it hasn't been on our radar.

The other school-going 9 year olds in our town may very well be able to point out Nebraska on a US map, but that doesn't concern me a bit. Macy knows plenty of other states. She's traveled the West Coast, no doubt she could pick out CA, OR, and WA. Her grandparents live in CO and we've driven there lots, so I bet she can pick out AZ, UT, and WY as well. Her aunt and cousins live in HI and the long flight there this summer made us all chuckle at the improper way it is placed on the US map. Unschooling allows my kids to soak up whatever it is that we are doing in the moment and remember it because they want to, and because it's interesting. Not because they are going to be quizzed on it later.

Had I been the 9 year old asked by a family friend to name the unnamed state on a map, I would have died of embarrassment if I didn't know the answer. My face would have turned red and I would have wanted to crawl into a hole. I suppose there are probably unschoolers out there who might be concerned about answering a question correctly in a situation such as this. Personality can certainly play a role in how a child handles this situation, but I have to believe that sparing my kids from the need to memorize random bits of information for no other reason than to spit them back out for the pleasure of other adults is a pretty good thing. I also believe that empowering kids to ask "why" on a regular basis is a very, very good thing.

Me & Oprah

Tammy over at Just Enough and Nothing More posted the other day about a dream she had about appearing on Oprah. She was appearing to talk about homeschooling, of course, and in the dream she struggled to come up with something clear, clever and concise to say that would make sense to a television audience. As I composed my comment to her post, I got to thinking about the history of education in our country. It's amusing to me that anyone would be surprised by a family's choice to live life without school when sending kids off to school is such a relatively recent phenomenon. It wasn't that long ago that everyone was homeschooling. Compulsory school attendance didn't even exist in this country until the late1850s.

150 years just isn't that long, in the scheme of things. Actually, school should really be considered still in the experimental phase. Still working the kinks out, so to speak. I think Oprah could appreciate that.

Hey You Gu-uys!

Remember The Electric Company? It came out in the early 70s in response to a challenge the US Department of Education put out to the creators of Sesame Street: Teach kids to read on television. And for those of us who were watching TV in the early 70s, it worked! We rented The Best of The Electric Company recently. I was feeling nostalgic for the way television used to be and wanted to show my kids a bit of my childhood. Charley (age 6) watched it first. He came downstairs after about 20 minutes with a scowl on his face. "They're just trying to teach me to read, Mom. It's so boring." I was crushed. Was it really that bad? A few days passed and I still hadn't watched it, but I was curious. Macy (age 9) and I just watched a few episodes. It rocks.

I mean, who wouldn't want to have Morgan Freeman and Bill Cosby as their reading teachers? There's no question that the graphics and technology are way outdated, but the content and approach is right on.....an unschooler's paradise, really. It's funny, logical, and doesn't assume an audience of idiots. If only children's television today could be half as clever. In a 20 minute episode, Macy figured out the difference between hard and soft C sounds and the purpose of punctuation. She got the jokes and immediately tuned in to the repetitive nature of the sketches. It makes sense to me why Charley was bored by it. Although he says he wishes he could read, he totally not ready. He's far too active and physical right now to be bothered with sitting down with a book and figuring out how to decode words. Macy, on the other hand is primed and ready.

Macy began asking to learn to read about a year ago. In that time, we have sat down together on the couch with a stack of easy readers a half dozen times, so that she could practice reading to me. We only do that because she wants to. I have no other agenda except to cuddle up on the couch next to my sweet middle child and give her my full, undivided attention. A few weeks go by, I ask if she wants to read to me, and sometimes she does and sometimes she doesn't. As an unschooler, I don't believe that she needs me to do any more than that. If mAcy were in school, she would have learned to read three years ago. But at what cost? Our days without school are filled with questions and answers and investigating and exploring whatever comes our way, so it's not like we sit around and stare at the wall. We read together often throughout the day. I point out words and billboards and signs and print around us in the world all the time. There is no way my kids are not going to learn how to read. Janey (age 11) did, Macy is on her way, and no doubt, when he's ready, Charley will follow. Genius programming like The Electric Company just makes it more interesting.

I wonder if the "education experts" who wrote those first few episodes of The Electric Company had any idea how aligned their approach would be with unschooling. I'm sure they didn't. They were just meeting a challenge from the suits at the Dept. of Ed. to make learning novel and fun...imagine that? Sketch comedy, groovy music, singing, dancing. It's brilliant. Wouldn't we all want to do it, if it were fun? That's what gets me about so many people's idea of what "real" or "valuable" learning is. It can't be fun, it can't be easy or come naturally. It has to be difficult and painful, or it's not valuable. Maybe this comes from the idea that anything worth having must be hard to get. For me, the hard and difficult part only makes sense if it is something that the potential learner wants. If I want to learn to play the piano, the daily practice and difficulty of learning new pieces of music makes sense. It's something I want. Therefore, the difficulty, and the work, fits into my greater purpose: to learn to play the piano. If I don't want to learn to play the piano, it makes no sense.

Charley still thinks The Electric Company is boring. That's fine. He can do something else while we're laughing and the girls are secretly learning the rules of the English language. And maybe he'll wander in at just the right time and get something out of the program he may not have gotten another way. And maybe not. But no one is going to tell him it's time to sit down and watch and learn. He gets to decide. In the meantime, I'll re-live my childhood and giggle while much younger versions of Rita Moreno, Bill Cosby, and Morgan Freeman help me keep learning about words fun for my kids.