The last bastion

After reading my previous post, Jeff Sabo said, "Values are the last bastion of controlling parenting."

Whoa! What a revelation! I, once the quintessential control freak, have made it past the last bastion. When did this happen? And more importantly, did it happen soon enough? With one kid out the door and the other busy making plans, I am very much aware that the time available for getting there goes by very quickly. It can so easily run out while you're still saying "someday."

Do any of these sound familiar?

• "We're unschooling except for math."
• "We're unschooling academics only."
• "We're radical unschoolers except we limit _________."
• "We're radical unschoolers, but we would never let our
  kids __________."

If so, you're not there yet. Tick tock, tick tock. This is your only chance to try another way. What are you waiting for?

Values

I started to write this post as if it's definitively about unschooling, but "unschooling" means different things to different people. Even "radical unschooling"—which refers to the freedom-of-choice parenting that goes along with unschooling for many of us—means different things to different people. I've gotten into trouble (conflicts) in the past when I insisted on a rigid definition of either term. While I continue to be puzzled about why someone would insist on claiming a label that does not really apply to them, I can occasionally, momentarily, acknowledge that some people are simply operating under different definitions than I am.

So let's leave labels out of it and talk instead about values.

We all have 'em. Some values we hold passionately and can defend at great length. Others we inherited from our society or from our parents and live by without giving them much thought. Some of my personal values are represented by some of the labels I accept for myself (liberal, atheist, omnivore, wife, mom, employee—just to name a few), and some of them, as noted above, resist accurate labeling.

One of the biggies in that last category is this:

I value my children's freedom to determine their own values.

I have been called on the carpet over the conspicuous consumption illustrated by my I'm that mom post. In the comments on my follow-up to that post, I responded some to the specifics of that example. I could respond more (and maybe I'm about to) about the factors that led us to decide that trip was okay—that it was MJ's big move-out trip and she was very excited, that the second trip to Oregon wasn't set in stone, that the additional consumption I might really have added to our life was Chloe's return trip home on a train that would have made the trip anyway—and I could talk about what solutions I think might really have a chance of stopping our species' headlong race to self-destruction.

But the thing is, even if I believed we should all reduce our consumption (and I do, even as I doubt it will do much good), and even if the trip decision were exactly as cut-and-dried as I implied in my "I'm that mom" post, I would have made the same decision.

MJ and Chloe know the environmental concerns. They know the time-and-money concerns. And they still enthusiastically chose as they did. And knowing all that, if I had said, "No, we're not doing this because it's not the most environmentally conscious choice," I would be IMPOSING my values on them. If I am the ultimate arbiter of what is an acceptable level of consumption, then in my opinion it's not unschooling and it is a complete violation of one of my most deeply held values.

Living by this value means that I, an omnivore, have had a vegetarian daughter. It means that I, an unschooler, have had a daughter in school—twice! It means that I, an atheist, have a Wiccan daughter. It means that my daughters make purchases that I wish they wouldn't, get piercings (and eventually tattoos) that I wish they wouldn't, spend their time engaged in a few activities that I wish they wouldn't, go off for weeks or months at a time when I wish they'd stay home, move out earlier than I wish they would, and just generally make life choices that I would not necessarily be making for them if I were in charge.

This is something that ALL parents face. Do you really think my mom expected to raise a tattooed atheist unschooler?! Hardly! (Although I think she's mostly okay with it.)

The difference is that I have simply and deliberately chosen to allow my values and my kids' values to diverge before they are adults. Part of my value system is a belief that one doesn't have to be 18 or older to recognize one's own values. And part of what went into my value system is the knowledge that kids who have values imposed on them often end up going in the exact opposite direction. By valuing the things I value and letting them make their own value judgments, even as children and especially as teens, I believe I have provided them with the information that I used to come around to my values without creating an adversarial or guilt-laden environment that might have driven them away from them. For me, that trumps everything else.

a bit more

I really am *that* mom (who pisses people off)

A friend of a friend had this to say about my "I am that mom" post.

I find it slightly offensive to suggest that those of us who do not have the time or money to do such things are somehow worse parents than those who do.

Also, I think that children should get everything they *need*, but wants and needs are not the same thing. I think my kids wants are important, to an extent....but nobody gets *everything* they want. I work pretty hard to make sure they have everything they need....I'm not going to kill myself to give them everything they want. What I want is important, too.

To which my friend replied:

mmmm...read more of the blogs. there's waaaaay more to it. I dont personally think ronnie's post is insulting in the way you suggest. Its point is to TRY to do the most possible...
I also disagree the wants and needs aren't necessarily the same thing. I believe it's a matter of priorities: every want is a need to some degree. But I think you know that about me already. ;)

To which her friend replied:

I don't think it's necessary to try to do the MOST possible. I think society needs to learn to be content with ENOUGH. Our kids have never been without food or shelter or access to medicine, and neither have I. We're already more privileged... than much of the world's population. Why do Westerners need sooo much in order to be happy? And even though we have sooo much, so many of us are unhappy, anyway.

The blog post in question....obviously the woman who wrote it does not mind dropping everything to drive an unnecessary 500 miles. I would mind. I like simplicity and I like consolidating errands and trips as much as possible. If the same exact trip was coming up in two weeks, no way would I make the trip twice just to instantly gratify my kids. It's not because I don't care about what they want, but I care about what I want, too. If they get to take a trip, and I get to drive only once, then we all get what we want. The woman who wrote the blog was happy and able to indulge her kids, so she also got what she wanted.

I personally feel that we do our kids a disservice if we teach them that their wants are the only ones that matter. I remember you posting a couple of weeks ago about how strongly you feel about hypocrisy. I feel the same sort of disdain for self-serving behavior.

To which I replied:

‎"does not mind dropping everything to drive an unnecessary 500 miles"

Actually, it's that I see it completely differently. :-) What I'm doing is *picking up* everything important--my connection to my kids, the extremely fun times we have hanging out with our friends, an attitude that life is full of possibilities and solutions and YES. That makes the 500 miles not only necessary but cheap at twice the price!

"I personally feel that we do our kids a disservice if we teach them that their wants are the only ones that matter."

This is a common criticism of unschooling. All I can tell you is that, in our life and in our family, my wants count for a LOT. I am spoiled rotten. I know it's hard to imagine, but all four of us (mom, dad, two teenaged girls) get MOST of what we want (and I say that after coming off almost a year of unemployment - it's about an attitude of abundance rather than an unlimited supply of money). This makes for a happy family that I could not have imagined in our pre-unschooling days.

But of course our kids suffer disappointments. Life serves up plenty of those without my ever having to do the dishing.

Do you have a reply?

Updated 7/29: I had to add the amazing art Linda found for me. Thanks, Linda! Also, the conversation continues in the comments.

Keep your eye on the swimmers

When the girls were really little (4 and 3, probably), we spent an evening at a motel out in the desert of California. The girls wanted to swim and I didn't, so I went with them down to the pool and walked around the edges of the pool, chatting with them as they paddled about. They were both swimming by then, thanks to our stint in Florida, so I was completely comfortable with this level of supervision, even when they headed into the deep end. The hotel manager was not. She came blasting out of the office, shouting at me.

It's not a pleasant memory. But what bothers me most is that, because of her shouting, I took my eyes and attention off the girls. It was only for a handful of seconds, but I remember the sinking feeling I got in my stomach as I realized what I'd done, and I remember my relief upon seeing that both girls had, while I wasn't looking, paddled themselves over to the wall. They were hanging on, watching wide-eyed as I dealt with this confrontation. I engaged in a couple of (useless) attempts to point out that the girls could swim, that I was barely two feet away from them, that I would OF COURSE jump in fully clothed if either had the slightest difficulty. She wouldn't listen, having already decided I was untrustworthy, so the girls moved back to the shallow end for a few minutes before we decided we were really done with that pool (and that hotel) anyway.

The lesson I took away from that day is one that still serves me well now. The only time my parenting is insufficient is when I take my attention off the swimmers, my daughters. It is their needs and wants and abilities that matter, not the ignorant observations, however well intentioned, of the people around us.

Formative years

There is a lot of chatter in the parenting world about kids' formative years. This term can mean anything from infancy to adolescence, but the implication is always the same: that there is a time period during which kids are formed into the people they will be (presumably forever).

I certainly don't dispute the importance of treating children well and raising them in a loving environment. But I really want to challenge this idea that people are ever finished "forming." Looking back over my life so far, I see a lot of formative years, and there are a few in my adult life that were at least as formative as the highest impact years of my youth. (2009 was a case in point! Whew! What a year!)

The accompanying ideas—that kids are merely "forming into" adults, and that they are especially "formable" during certain years—are equally bad. They are booby traps for the unwary, and they can lead us to some thoughts about our kids that are really pretty nasty.

How about this one: "Oh, he'll grow out of it." This usually refers, interestingly enough, to a child's deepest emotional needs or his strongest signals that something needs to change. It's something we say or think (or maybe just hope) when our child's wants or behaviors are inconvenient to us. When accompanied by loving patience and responsiveness to our child's needs, this thought is not the end of the world. But even at its least dismissive, it still carries with it an expectation of—even an insistence on—change. I think it's really hard to hide our expectations from our kids. They always know.

And what happens if he doesn't grow out of it, whatever it is? What do our thwarted expectations lead to? "He's a hopeless case" perhaps, or similar sentiments? Ouch! These are cultural weapons we use to beat up the square pegs among us, the angry ones, the sad ones, the bloody but unbowed ones. They are not like us, therefore they're a lost cause.

I don't believe in half-formed children, and I don't believe in lost causes. There's no such thing. There are only people—learning, thinking, evolving people—for whom every year is a formative year.


We are game-playing, fun-having creatures, we are the otters of the universe.
~ Richard Bach

I'm that mom

Inspired by Flo's delicious post here. It's an impromptu blog carnival! Join in!

I'm that mom who drives 500 miles because her kids want to see their friends, because her kids don't feel like riding the train again, because her kids want to go now instead of in a couple of weeks when the trip could be combined with another trip. I'm that mom who knows it's a frivolous, indulgent, even "stupid" thing to do but does it anyway.

Why not? We can. We have the time, the money, the free lodging when we get there (thanks, friends), and, whether we are aware of it or not, the energy. We as a family end up with more trips together, more good times on the road rocking or talking, more fun. Frank and I end up with more much needed time with our friends, too, and the good feeling that comes from doing the kind thing. And the girls end up with more driving practice, more familiarity with a long stretch of freeway that is likely to be part of their lives forever, and (most important of all) more awareness that they are supported in their lives, even when what they want is frivolous, indulgent, or even "stupid."

It's a good trade.

Update 7/29: Be sure to check out the links in the comments. The response to this has been amazing! My original thought was that we would each pick one little example of how we are that mom or dad, but some people really ran with it and ended up outlining the core tenets of unschooling. And as things wound down, Flo chimed in again with this amazing piece that put the cherry on top of her breakfast ice cream.

Get your art! Mary made us stinkin' badges. Link to this post or one of Flo's.
Moms
Dads

Tiny tidbits: Learn Nothing Day, Part Trois

Tara commented on my previous post that she doesn't participate in Learn Nothing Day because she doesn't like failure. It made me chuckle, and then it got me wondering: Why do I participate? Why do I, in fact, look forward to this day with moderately gleeful anticipation?

Part of the answer probably stems from its being a rare opportunity for my psyche to experience failure without trauma. But more than that, I enjoy the way it attunes my brain to the learning I do just via my regular activities: tiny tidbits of learning that happen so naturally and so without fanfare, most days I am oblivious to them. I think (and the point of Learn Nothing Day is) that these tidbits are unavoidable. They happen to everyone no matter where they are or what they are doing—even kids in school!

What cannot be predicted is what those tidbits will be. Oh, schools try to control this, with their curricula and textbooks and lectures, but they can't really. Even the learners can't control learning. In many respects, our brains are the sponges they are so often compared to, and like real sponges, they will soak up pretty much anything.

In chemistry class, I learned how to disguise my papers so that I could write notes to Linda instead of taking notes on Mr. Smith's lectures. I also learned that this one nerdy kid was a pretty good friend, that I enjoyed balancing chemical equations, that clocks move more slowly in 6th period, and that the chemical name for lead can be remembered by thinking of Pencil boxes.

In the last couple of days, I learned that "stop" is not a (Merriam Webster) dictionary sense of "enough" (perhaps because MW says interjections are "usually lacking grammatical connection"). I learned that some people believe "exaggerate" is an antonym for "control." NOT. I learned that there are two ferries from Anacortes to Sydney, BC, each weekday and that a 16-year-old can walk across for $13. I learned that the yurts at Kayak Point are extremely popular and run $50 per night. I learned that the Centennial Trail runs from Arlington to Snohomish, and that they are planning to extend it farther north. I learned that Microsoft HealthVault is really pretty cool, that you can upload data from your health-related devices (pedometers, blood-pressure and glucose meters, etc.) to the site, and that some pretty prestigious medical facilities are using sites like these for remote patient monitoring.

Today, I learned that Sandra put up a temporary banner on her unschooling page for Learn Nothing Day, that there is a web site where one can set up a custom marquee banner, that I still love Pachelbel's Canon, and that at least one of my friends, Alex, visits Sandra's site often enough to have discovered the new banner. I learned that Tara doesn't like to fail. I learned that Antonio Meucci got robbed.

I also learned that I didn't gain any willpower while I was sleeping, and that I still find cruising Facebook and writing blog posts WAY more fun than working. Shocker. And I learned that Learn Nothing Day provides a fun and unique opportunity for looking at learning.

The quirks of unschooling

WARNING: Do NOT read this or any other blog post if you are participating in Learn Nothing Day. Learning may ensue.

Everything is connected, and everything counts. If I needed proof of these two maxims of unschooling, I found it this morning in this little pile of books that has accumulated on our overflowing bookshelves:

The Book of General Ignorance: Everything You Think You Know Is Wrong by John Lloyd & John Mitchinson - A fascinating little book devoted to correcting some common misconceptions. For example, who invented the telephone? Alexander Bell probably stole Antonio Meucci's models from the lab at Western Union.

Misquoting Jesus by Bart D. Ehrman - An exploration of the evolution of the text of the Bible. For example, it appears that mentions of Jesus getting angry have been softened up or eliminated, such as the evidence that indicates that Mark 1:41 originally said that when the leper approached Jesus to be healed, Jesus became angry.

The Greek Myths: I by Robert Graves

The Zombie Survival Guide by Max Brooks - A must-have for every home.

Travellers China by George McDonald

Sneaky Uses for Everyday Things by Cy Tymony - Instructions for making clever devices from things like sugar cubes, aluminum foil, and toilet paper rolls.

How are the books in this quirky collection connected? I'm not really sure except that they all found their way into our house, and, judging by their being piled together on the edge of a shelf, they have all been used in the recent past. That's unschooling for you.

Dragonfly's question of the day

When we first started unschooling, I got on unschooling.com just about every day and asked a question. My screen name was dragonfly, so these became "Dragonfly's Questions of the Day." Those questions were about unschooling as I tried to make sense of it. Nowadays, unschooling makes perfect sense and what I'm trying to make sense of is school.

Why don't middle schools have playgrounds?

I walked with my 11yo niece to a neighborhood park the other day. She joined a group of 'tweens in a rousing game of tag. Most of those kids are headed to North Middle next year, yet chose to spent a summer afternoon "doing recess," their favorite part of elementary school.

North Middle does not have a playground.

Why not?

True friends write your blog posts for you

Mary has posted photos of my tattooing and my tattoo here, and I've added a comment to the post about why I chose this tattoo.

Thanks to my amazing coaching team: Chloe, Qacei, Annie, and Mary.

The tattoo artist was Anji at High Priestess.

Transition times

MJ is moving out at 17.

Moving out at 17. That phrase causes a moment's pause, doesn't it? Usually it signifies strife, and either a desperate escape or a cruel rejection or both. In our case, it is simply a step. Here's how we came to take it.

As I said before, MJ's really been ready to live independently for some time. There's a little garage apartment across the alley from our place that I have long had my eye on for my girls... Ah, well, it was a nice idea.

Instead, MJ and Sean started talking about getting an apartment together. There were various obstacles in the way of this idea—primarily employment in a recession economy—that would have meant many months of delay. So, I got to thinking about it. If the role of an unschooling parent is to facilitate her child's interests, does that role suddenly change when her child's interest is moving out? Despite my reluctance to lose her, I ultimately concluded that it does not.

So, after we all talked it over, MJ let Sean know he would be welcome to move in here. And then Sean's parents, Lynelle and David, said MJ would be welcome to move in there. And then MJ and Sean looked at various practical considerations and decided that she would move to Sean's place in July.

And that's been the plan for a couple of months. MJ has spent that time meeting some prior commitments, enjoying some fun times with family and friends, attending LIFE is Good, and traveling to Oregon for visits. We've researched some of our own practical considerations and readied ourselves for our baby to move out. And I've been calm, as I said.

This morning, I experienced what is probably only my first wave of grief. As we got ready to deliver Chloe to the train for her own visit to Oregon, it hit me that my daughters had just spent what might be their last night living in the same place. Ouch! But it's interesting and—though I didn't anticipate it—unsurprising really that what hits me hard is their separation from each other.

Taking my chances

"Everything you do in your life is a chance to practice. It is all Dharma. When you do your chores try to be mindful. If you are emptying a spittoon or cleaning a toilet don't feel you are doing it as a favor for anyone else. There is Dharma in emptying spittoons. Don't feel you are practicing only when sitting still cross-legged.

"Some of you have complained that there is not enough time to meditate. Is there enough time to breathe? This is your meditation: mindfulness, naturalness in whatever you do."

~ Ajahn Chah

Moving Miss MJ

Evidently the doings of my life are not as obvious to everyone else as they are to me. Evidently I have been a bit obscure. Sorry, everyone! Here's the scoop:

MJ, our oldest, who will be 18 in September, is soon leaving on a big adventure: living elsewhere. She is packing up to move down to Salem, Oregon, where she will be living with her boyfriend, Sean, and his family. In true unschooler fashion, their plans are loose but include, among other things, the possibility of moving back into our house later.

So, Moving Day #1 will take place within a week or two.

Frank and Chloe and I are still figuring out what this means for us for the time she is gone. We will have a dedicated guestroom for a while, that's for sure, so let us know if you want to come visit. :-)

My emotions are mixed, as I'm sure you can imagine. I can tell you that this feels nothing like I imagined it would when she was little. I expected to be terribly sad and lonely, and maybe I'll get there, but mostly I'm really calm about it. I like that she's starting out by living with a family and especially with people I like. I like that she'll be so close to families in Corvallis whom we count among our dearest friends. And I know she's ready. She's been ready for some time; if we'd had the financial resources, she and Chloe would have had their own apartment more than a year ago. So, this feels like a pretty natural transition, and I have the comfort of the possibility that she'll be back.

In the meantime, legally she remains our dependent, of course, and financially, she is. But she's taking the reins. She'll do her own budgeting and make her own plans and let us know what she needs.

And I'll try to keep you (better) posted on what this transition looks like.

Jesus would be proud, too

I LOVE THIS STORY!

"I think Jesus would have hugged him too. It’s exactly what I read throughout scripture: Jesus hanging out with people that religious people would flee from. Correlation between then and now? I think so."

I Hugged a Man in His Underwear. And I Am Proud.