Mojo Brew bio
6 months ago
Saturday, April 28, 2007
More "should"
Aunt Jorene sent this quote: "Don't 'should' on yourself, or on anyone else!" Read it out loud to get the full effect. :-)
Baby moments
I was in a shop downtown yesterday and encountered a woman with a baby. She had him parked behind her while her transaction was rung up. I started talking to him and jingling my keys at him. She turned to look, so I gave her a friendly smile. She said, "Oh, good," and walked off to do a bit more shopping. It really surprised me, even though she didn't go far and was gone for only a couple of minutes. But I wish the world were such that all moms could be like that, trusting a friendly stranger to give her half a minute to get things done.
That moment in that store has helped a tiny bit to balance a very different moment I had in another store last week. This woman was walking all around Borders with her very small baby in a carrier. He was screaming, arms flailing, cheeks red. At one point, she set the carrier down, turned her back on him, and began to peruse the books. It was heartbreaking. I went up to that baby, too, and even went so far as to ask her if I could rock him. It didn't help. She said, "He doesn't like his carseat." Well, duh. That much was obvious to all of us in the store! I remain baffled over what she thought she might accomplish by torturing him that way.
http://www.attachmentparenting.com/
That moment in that store has helped a tiny bit to balance a very different moment I had in another store last week. This woman was walking all around Borders with her very small baby in a carrier. He was screaming, arms flailing, cheeks red. At one point, she set the carrier down, turned her back on him, and began to peruse the books. It was heartbreaking. I went up to that baby, too, and even went so far as to ask her if I could rock him. It didn't help. She said, "He doesn't like his carseat." Well, duh. That much was obvious to all of us in the store! I remain baffled over what she thought she might accomplish by torturing him that way.
http://www.attachmentparenting.com/
Chiara de España
In my excitement over Chiara's plans to visit here next summer, I forgot to pass on her other big news: She has been accepted into another exchange program, this one for a year at a university in Spain. (I can't remember what part of Spain, sorry.) She says she isn't very excited about it yet, but I'm sure she'll get there. She just needs a little American recharge first. :-)
Friday, April 27, 2007
Happy Birthday, Frank!
To the love of my life: Many happy returns of the day! And many thanks for sharing 21 fabulous years (and counting) with me.
Should
One of the things I’ve tried to do throughout our unschooling journey is to stop and question any thought that contains the word “should.” It was surprising and liberating when I realized just how many of the shoulds in my life were, upon examination, other people’s shoulds, or society’s shoulds, or just my own misconceptions or exaggerations about what constitutes proper behavior, appearance, and occupation. Initially, all these false shoulds were easily, even gleefully, abandoned. Some examples:
My kids should dress according to Hoyle (a.k.a. societal standards).
But why? To fit in, to make other people more comfortable, to avoid attention.
Who cares? Not my kids, not Frank, not me.
My kids should go to bed at a “reasonable” hour each night (even though they don’t ever have school in the morning).
But why? Uhhh…
Who cares? Not them, not Frank, not me.
My kids should sit down to meals with the family (even though we are together a lot through the day).
But why? Uhhh…
Who cares? Not them, not Frank, not me.
And the biggie:
I should bear full responsibility for my kids’ choices, to the point of taking those choices away as appropriate.
But why? Because society says so.
Who cares? Not them (they like being responsible for themselves), not Frank, not me (well, okay, sometimes me, but I do my best to stifle the controlling urges that come so naturally to me).
So, I threw out all those shoulds and many more like them. It was fun, and it was challenging. In fact, it was one of the most challenging things about beginning to unschool. I mean, Frank and I thought we were making an educational decision—the kids simply wouldn’t “do” school any more—and instead we ended up revamping our lifestyle, our assumptions, and most of our standard operating procedures. We began to question everything. “Who believes this? Is it really me, or is it society or Grandma or the next door neighbor?”
The happy results of all that questioning and revamping were impressive and became the foundation of my passionate belief in radical unschooling (RU), an approach to life and parenting that goes far beyond homeschooling. With RU, our kids became our friends. They began to trust us to be there for them in all ways, without any of the wrangling and plain bad feelings that traditional parenting techniques engender. It was a wonder.
And it still is. But lately, I've been noticing again how often I use “should” in my thoughts and speech. I think I've been backsliding from my early determination to stop letting “should” rule our lives.
Epiphany today: I use “should” regularly when what I really mean is “want to.” For example, it's Frank's birthday today, and I found myself thinking, “We should do something special for him.” How self-defeating that is! It strips out all the love and generosity that is actually contained in the thought, leaving only dry obligation. The fact is, I want to do something special for him. Where “should” is draining, limiting, tedious, “want to” is empowering, defining, motivating. “Should” is from that tense place between my shoulder blades; “want to” is from the heart. (Thanks to unschooling dad and life coach Scott Noelle for helping me place them.)
This is not to say that every should can be reframed into a want. If I say to Chloe, “I want you to wear matching socks,” it can be (and usually is) just as much about controlling her choices as “You should wear matching socks” would be. I’m not going to use my own wants as a weapon against my kids' autonomy.
But I do want to move to a place where I’m better able to recognize my own choices as being just that. The guilty thought “I should call my grandmother” becomes “I want to call my grandmother because I want her to know how much I care about her.” And the shame-filled “I should mow the lawn” becomes “I want to get the lawn mowed because I think it looks ugly when it’s shaggy.”
I also hereby renew my campaign against the false shoulds that bombard our family daily. And I'm going to stop doing the bombarding myself. I can tell I’ve been doing some of that when I open my mouth and my kids look at me with faint apprehension, like “Oh, man, what’s she going to lay on me now?” Enough of that! To help me break the should habit, they’re going to fine me a quarter every time I use a sentence with “should” in it. Here’s hoping they aren’t able to get too rich off my wayward tongue. :-)
My kids should dress according to Hoyle (a.k.a. societal standards).
But why? To fit in, to make other people more comfortable, to avoid attention.
Who cares? Not my kids, not Frank, not me.
My kids should go to bed at a “reasonable” hour each night (even though they don’t ever have school in the morning).
But why? Uhhh…
Who cares? Not them, not Frank, not me.
My kids should sit down to meals with the family (even though we are together a lot through the day).
But why? Uhhh…
Who cares? Not them, not Frank, not me.
And the biggie:
I should bear full responsibility for my kids’ choices, to the point of taking those choices away as appropriate.
But why? Because society says so.
Who cares? Not them (they like being responsible for themselves), not Frank, not me (well, okay, sometimes me, but I do my best to stifle the controlling urges that come so naturally to me).
So, I threw out all those shoulds and many more like them. It was fun, and it was challenging. In fact, it was one of the most challenging things about beginning to unschool. I mean, Frank and I thought we were making an educational decision—the kids simply wouldn’t “do” school any more—and instead we ended up revamping our lifestyle, our assumptions, and most of our standard operating procedures. We began to question everything. “Who believes this? Is it really me, or is it society or Grandma or the next door neighbor?”
The happy results of all that questioning and revamping were impressive and became the foundation of my passionate belief in radical unschooling (RU), an approach to life and parenting that goes far beyond homeschooling. With RU, our kids became our friends. They began to trust us to be there for them in all ways, without any of the wrangling and plain bad feelings that traditional parenting techniques engender. It was a wonder.
And it still is. But lately, I've been noticing again how often I use “should” in my thoughts and speech. I think I've been backsliding from my early determination to stop letting “should” rule our lives.
Epiphany today: I use “should” regularly when what I really mean is “want to.” For example, it's Frank's birthday today, and I found myself thinking, “We should do something special for him.” How self-defeating that is! It strips out all the love and generosity that is actually contained in the thought, leaving only dry obligation. The fact is, I want to do something special for him. Where “should” is draining, limiting, tedious, “want to” is empowering, defining, motivating. “Should” is from that tense place between my shoulder blades; “want to” is from the heart. (Thanks to unschooling dad and life coach Scott Noelle for helping me place them.)
This is not to say that every should can be reframed into a want. If I say to Chloe, “I want you to wear matching socks,” it can be (and usually is) just as much about controlling her choices as “You should wear matching socks” would be. I’m not going to use my own wants as a weapon against my kids' autonomy.
But I do want to move to a place where I’m better able to recognize my own choices as being just that. The guilty thought “I should call my grandmother” becomes “I want to call my grandmother because I want her to know how much I care about her.” And the shame-filled “I should mow the lawn” becomes “I want to get the lawn mowed because I think it looks ugly when it’s shaggy.”
I also hereby renew my campaign against the false shoulds that bombard our family daily. And I'm going to stop doing the bombarding myself. I can tell I’ve been doing some of that when I open my mouth and my kids look at me with faint apprehension, like “Oh, man, what’s she going to lay on me now?” Enough of that! To help me break the should habit, they’re going to fine me a quarter every time I use a sentence with “should” in it. Here’s hoping they aren’t able to get too rich off my wayward tongue. :-)
Chiara is coming home!!!!
W A H O O ! ! ! !
Chiara just called us. She's coming to visit us this summer! Chloe and I are the only ones home right now, but we managed to make enough celebratory noise for a housefull. Then I stood there in the kitchen and cried happy tears and called a bunch of people. We miss her SO much, and we aren't able to swing a visit to Italy this summer, so I was afraid we'd have to go another year without seeing her. But SHE'S COMING!! She'll arrive late July or early August and stay for three weeks or maybe even MORE.
YAY YAY YAY!!!!
Chiara just called us. She's coming to visit us this summer! Chloe and I are the only ones home right now, but we managed to make enough celebratory noise for a housefull. Then I stood there in the kitchen and cried happy tears and called a bunch of people. We miss her SO much, and we aren't able to swing a visit to Italy this summer, so I was afraid we'd have to go another year without seeing her. But SHE'S COMING!! She'll arrive late July or early August and stay for three weeks or maybe even MORE.
YAY YAY YAY!!!!
Tuesday, April 24, 2007
Experiencing acceptance
or "What unschooling looked like this weekend"
Greetings from the rejuvenated and inspired Maier family! We returned home yesterday from a long weekend in Corvallis, OR, where we attended the LIFE Is Good Unschooling Conference (with LIFE standing for Learning in Freedom Everyday). It was an exceptionally rewarding experience. I've been blogging in my head all weekend and will now do my best to recall all the cool stuff I wanted to share.
First and foremost, I want to try to describe what it was like to take my kids to a place where kids are really, truly accepted Just the Way They Are. We had probably 150 kids running free in that hotel (unschooling families occupied all but five of the rooms). They laughed, they ran, they dangled pipe-cleaner creations into the lobby, they played games in hallways, they had discussions and art sessions on stairwell landings, they swam in the pool, they rode skateboards in the parking lot. And they didn't get scolded or frowned at, and no one thought less of their parents for their behavior. Instead, they got indulgent smiles and laughter and sharing and other kids' parents pitching in to the fun.
It was amazing and nourishing and such a relief to be surrounded by people who looked at my teenagers with interest and friendliness instead of with the suspicion and judgmentalness and near-fear that they (and we) are faced with in society as a whole.
And do you know what? Nothing got broken or damaged. The nights were amazingly quiet and peaceful (especially considering most of the kids don't have bedtimes). The kids never fought -- not once -- and tears were very, very rare. There were moms nursing babies anywhere they felt like it, colorful signs on room doors, room doors propped open in invitation, conversations happening EVERYWHERE between people of all ages, and joy in the air so tangible that hotel staff members commented on it and asked to be invited to our next conference.
Some highlights:
* Listening to a speech called "Math Happens." It was given by engineer and math tutor and unschooling mom Mary Lewis, and it served to ease away the last wispy bits of my concern that unschooling math is "iffy." Turns out schooling math is pretty darned "iffy," too. (Did you know that 55% of college freshmen [that is, high school grads who've been accepted into college] are not prepared for college math courses?) She talked about how schooling begins immediately to interfere with the brain's natural ability to do computation by taking math out of the physical too early and moving it into the abstract. Also, that's when we start to tell kids they're "wrong" about math, thereby injecting fear and doubt into something that should be as natural as breathing. She said every one of her students (mostly math-phobic adults returning to school) would have been better off if they hadn't had a single math lesson during their childhoods. And she cemented my understanding of the difference between math computation (can be done on a calculator) and math concepts (must be understood by the brain) and how schooling tends to promote the former to the neglect of the latter.
* Seeing all the awesome, diverse, and interesting unschooled teens in general, but especially during the Teen Panel, when a brave group of volunteers answered questions about life as unschooled teens. Summing up some of their answers, I can tell you they have big plans for the future, they don't always fit in with schooled kids but don't find schooled kids all that interesting, their schooled friends don't seem to envy them (this surprised me because I am terribly retroactively envious of their lives), they bristle when asked if they wish they had more outside motivation -- they motivate themselves, thank you very much -- and their parents began talking to them about sex so long ago that they can't really remember when it started. Summing up my impressions, I can tell you they are articulate, entertaining, and the most settled and directed group of young people I've ever met.
* Sitting in our room with the door open, listening to Frank play his guitar and greeting all the people who wandered in to check us out.
* Finding Chloe and her new friend, Connor (16), asleep on a landing one afternoon, catching up after staying awake with a bunch of other kids all of the night before.
* Hanging out in Diana's room, playing with my new friend Fergus (3), who is just about the cutest little guy I've ever met. He has blond hair past his shoulders, a wicked grin, and a very firm concept of his own personal space. Nobody touches Fergus without his permission. I love that his parents support him in that.
* Going to the nearby Chinese buffet place with Frank, MJ, Chloe, and our friends Jaime (11), Mera (8), and Aeron (6), and watching the HUGE joy on all the girls' faces as they filled their own plates with whatever looked good. This included a fair amount of pudding, interestingly enough.
* Having long conversations with the girls' mom, Toast, who is easing her way into unschooling, and feeling like maybe I'm helping them on that journey.
* Watching the talent show Saturday night and seeing the way the crowd encouraged and applauded a variety of performers for more than two hours. Acts ranged from singers, to jugglers, to dancers, to skateboarders, to musicians, to an apparently quadruple-jointed lad who could practically turn his arms and legs inside out. Every single act was warmly received. My favorite was Mera, who performed a song she wrote herself, about how at this gathering we were all superstars.
* Stretching out on my bed with Mera about midnight one night to have a serious discussion about Battlestar Galactica and Heroes, then walking her back to her room through the quiet hotel.
* Dancing the night away at Sunday night's Barefoot Boogie. It reminded me of a Maier wedding, with everybody dancing with whomever was handy, regardless of age and gender and usually in groups of six or more. The conga line was gigantic and intense and prompted one of the few times the kids were asked to settle down just a little.
* Meeting some of my online friends, including the woman who organizes Live and Learn, the East Coast unschooling conference. She asked if I'd be interested in speaking at the 2008 one! Hmm, let me think...
* Leaving MJ behind because she couldn't bear for it to end. She's still in Corvallis with some friends from camp and will be returning tomorrow, although we still might not see her 'cause she's headed to their place on Whidbey first. I talked to her today and she said, "I'll see you Monday at the latest!"
Some lowlights:
* For us, it had to end.
* The spirituality chat that edged into Christian bashing. I have my own problems with fundamentalist Christianity, but it was unpleasant having the chat leader go negative during what was supposed to be an inclusive chat. She has reasons for her anger (e.g., a fundamentalist minister visited the hospital where her daughter lay dying of cancer and announced that 9yo Hannah was surely going to Hell), but I wish she hadn't expressed it there.
* The night guard at the hotel, thereafter dubbed "Señor Grumpy Pants," who was mean to the people who were still in the pool at 10 when he came to close it down for the night. A smiling "Time to call it a night" would have achieved his goal, you know?
* Not getting much sleep the first night because the girls kept coming into the room. At 2 and 4, it was to use the bathroom (even though there are public restrooms on the ground floor!), and at 6 it was to get their swimsuits. Lotta interruptions for a couple long past the infant-and-toddler stage of parenting.
* Experiencing huge envy of the parents who are unschooling their kids from birth.
But none of those detracted much from a singularly amazing experience. I am totally recharged and ready to dive into life!! AND I CAN'T WAIT FOR NEXT YEAR'S CONFERENCE!!
Want to go with us?
Greetings from the rejuvenated and inspired Maier family! We returned home yesterday from a long weekend in Corvallis, OR, where we attended the LIFE Is Good Unschooling Conference (with LIFE standing for Learning in Freedom Everyday). It was an exceptionally rewarding experience. I've been blogging in my head all weekend and will now do my best to recall all the cool stuff I wanted to share.
First and foremost, I want to try to describe what it was like to take my kids to a place where kids are really, truly accepted Just the Way They Are. We had probably 150 kids running free in that hotel (unschooling families occupied all but five of the rooms). They laughed, they ran, they dangled pipe-cleaner creations into the lobby, they played games in hallways, they had discussions and art sessions on stairwell landings, they swam in the pool, they rode skateboards in the parking lot. And they didn't get scolded or frowned at, and no one thought less of their parents for their behavior. Instead, they got indulgent smiles and laughter and sharing and other kids' parents pitching in to the fun.
It was amazing and nourishing and such a relief to be surrounded by people who looked at my teenagers with interest and friendliness instead of with the suspicion and judgmentalness and near-fear that they (and we) are faced with in society as a whole.
And do you know what? Nothing got broken or damaged. The nights were amazingly quiet and peaceful (especially considering most of the kids don't have bedtimes). The kids never fought -- not once -- and tears were very, very rare. There were moms nursing babies anywhere they felt like it, colorful signs on room doors, room doors propped open in invitation, conversations happening EVERYWHERE between people of all ages, and joy in the air so tangible that hotel staff members commented on it and asked to be invited to our next conference.
Some highlights:
* Listening to a speech called "Math Happens." It was given by engineer and math tutor and unschooling mom Mary Lewis, and it served to ease away the last wispy bits of my concern that unschooling math is "iffy." Turns out schooling math is pretty darned "iffy," too. (Did you know that 55% of college freshmen [that is, high school grads who've been accepted into college] are not prepared for college math courses?) She talked about how schooling begins immediately to interfere with the brain's natural ability to do computation by taking math out of the physical too early and moving it into the abstract. Also, that's when we start to tell kids they're "wrong" about math, thereby injecting fear and doubt into something that should be as natural as breathing. She said every one of her students (mostly math-phobic adults returning to school) would have been better off if they hadn't had a single math lesson during their childhoods. And she cemented my understanding of the difference between math computation (can be done on a calculator) and math concepts (must be understood by the brain) and how schooling tends to promote the former to the neglect of the latter.
* Seeing all the awesome, diverse, and interesting unschooled teens in general, but especially during the Teen Panel, when a brave group of volunteers answered questions about life as unschooled teens. Summing up some of their answers, I can tell you they have big plans for the future, they don't always fit in with schooled kids but don't find schooled kids all that interesting, their schooled friends don't seem to envy them (this surprised me because I am terribly retroactively envious of their lives), they bristle when asked if they wish they had more outside motivation -- they motivate themselves, thank you very much -- and their parents began talking to them about sex so long ago that they can't really remember when it started. Summing up my impressions, I can tell you they are articulate, entertaining, and the most settled and directed group of young people I've ever met.
* Sitting in our room with the door open, listening to Frank play his guitar and greeting all the people who wandered in to check us out.
* Finding Chloe and her new friend, Connor (16), asleep on a landing one afternoon, catching up after staying awake with a bunch of other kids all of the night before.
* Hanging out in Diana's room, playing with my new friend Fergus (3), who is just about the cutest little guy I've ever met. He has blond hair past his shoulders, a wicked grin, and a very firm concept of his own personal space. Nobody touches Fergus without his permission. I love that his parents support him in that.
* Going to the nearby Chinese buffet place with Frank, MJ, Chloe, and our friends Jaime (11), Mera (8), and Aeron (6), and watching the HUGE joy on all the girls' faces as they filled their own plates with whatever looked good. This included a fair amount of pudding, interestingly enough.
* Having long conversations with the girls' mom, Toast, who is easing her way into unschooling, and feeling like maybe I'm helping them on that journey.
* Watching the talent show Saturday night and seeing the way the crowd encouraged and applauded a variety of performers for more than two hours. Acts ranged from singers, to jugglers, to dancers, to skateboarders, to musicians, to an apparently quadruple-jointed lad who could practically turn his arms and legs inside out. Every single act was warmly received. My favorite was Mera, who performed a song she wrote herself, about how at this gathering we were all superstars.
* Stretching out on my bed with Mera about midnight one night to have a serious discussion about Battlestar Galactica and Heroes, then walking her back to her room through the quiet hotel.
* Dancing the night away at Sunday night's Barefoot Boogie. It reminded me of a Maier wedding, with everybody dancing with whomever was handy, regardless of age and gender and usually in groups of six or more. The conga line was gigantic and intense and prompted one of the few times the kids were asked to settle down just a little.
* Meeting some of my online friends, including the woman who organizes Live and Learn, the East Coast unschooling conference. She asked if I'd be interested in speaking at the 2008 one! Hmm, let me think...
* Leaving MJ behind because she couldn't bear for it to end. She's still in Corvallis with some friends from camp and will be returning tomorrow, although we still might not see her 'cause she's headed to their place on Whidbey first. I talked to her today and she said, "I'll see you Monday at the latest!"
Some lowlights:
* For us, it had to end.
* The spirituality chat that edged into Christian bashing. I have my own problems with fundamentalist Christianity, but it was unpleasant having the chat leader go negative during what was supposed to be an inclusive chat. She has reasons for her anger (e.g., a fundamentalist minister visited the hospital where her daughter lay dying of cancer and announced that 9yo Hannah was surely going to Hell), but I wish she hadn't expressed it there.
* The night guard at the hotel, thereafter dubbed "Señor Grumpy Pants," who was mean to the people who were still in the pool at 10 when he came to close it down for the night. A smiling "Time to call it a night" would have achieved his goal, you know?
* Not getting much sleep the first night because the girls kept coming into the room. At 2 and 4, it was to use the bathroom (even though there are public restrooms on the ground floor!), and at 6 it was to get their swimsuits. Lotta interruptions for a couple long past the infant-and-toddler stage of parenting.
* Experiencing huge envy of the parents who are unschooling their kids from birth.
But none of those detracted much from a singularly amazing experience. I am totally recharged and ready to dive into life!! AND I CAN'T WAIT FOR NEXT YEAR'S CONFERENCE!!
Want to go with us?
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