Your own certain knowledge

Vague interest can turn to trust in others' accounts of learning and of parenting successes. Trust in those stories can give us courage to experiment, and from that we can discover our own proofs and truths to share with newer unschoolers, who might find courage from that to try these things themselves. Faith in others can only take us a little way, though, and then our own children's learning will carry us onward.

Some ideas become theories. A few theories might turn to convictions. Some early thoughts will be abandoned; others will gain substance. After much thought and use, what is left will be what you believe because you have lived it.

SandraDodd.com/knowledge
photo by Cátia Maciel

Late stage, looking back

Kelly Lovejoy wrote, in "The Three Stages of Unschooling," 2004:

My son Cameron (16) and I recently started sitting in on a college Sociology class. He asked for and received electric guitar lessons for his birthday. Mondays he goes to a nearby school and takes African drumming lessons. He's taking a weekly film class starting in March, and we'll be sending him to a weeklong film school in Maine in May. Duncan (almost 8) just started karate lessons. Ben (my husband) has just finished a class (with tests and all) that's required before he can put on Lt Col (Air National Guard) and is now in NJ for three weeks of "rah-rah" and classroom training and tests for the two new drugs he will be selling. I'm going to a one-day intensive "Bee School" to learn to take care of my Christmas present: two beehives.

Cameron said the other day, "For Unschoolers, we sure are taking a lot of schooly classes!"

That got me thinking...especially since we are one of those families that discovered unschooling after years and years of schooling.

I think that there are three "Stages of Unschooling."

continued here:
SandraDodd.com/kellylovejoy/stages

SandraDodd.com/stages
photo of Cameron and Kelly Lovejoy, the year after the article
(photographer credit lost; sorry)

Touch

A mom once wrote, of babies:

Not only have they never seen, touched or experienced anything in our world—they also have no way of communicating thoughts, feelings or desires with anything more than frustrated cries, screams and babbling.

I responded:

There is touch. There is gaze. Have you never just looked into the eyes of your child, communicating? Have you not touched them soothingly, and felt them touch you back sometimes? They can tell the difference between an angry look and a gentle look.

Parents who didn't know touch was a real way to communicate could practice on babies, and then use it with older children, and partners.

For children to learn language, they need opportunities to hear words, and for people to pay attention to the sounds they make. Mimicry is good, with babies. Even before they can articulate consonants, they can probably copy your voice going up or down, and you could copy them back. Singing little made up two-note songs can be a good tool for communicating with babies. Copying touch is good, too. (Don't return rough touch with rough, though.)

SandraDodd.com/babies

Happiness, harmony and joy

Nicole Kenyon wrote:

When I first talked to Jo Isaac I was like "that sounds nuts" but some of the things she said made me realise that my perception or ideas were copied and not mine. It made me stop and look at things from different angles.

I changed, became softer and let go of a belief system that wasn't mine while observing my son and our family. Are we happy? Do we live in harmony? What can I do to bring more joy?

—Nicole Kenyon

Not so crazy after all
SandraDodd.com/crazy
photo by Nicole Kenyon

What John Holt didn't know

NOTE FROM SANDRA: I was speaking, not writing, so when you get past that stuttery beginning, it might flow.

---

One thing that John Holt, when he was writing about Teach Your Own, he, too, had a curriculum in mind. He, too, was thinking, not "Teach a curriculum," but "Do this, instead of school, until school is out, and then you will be done, and it will be cool, you will have dodged the bullet, you will have missed out on the damage of school." That’s worthy all by itself.

But John Holt didn’t have any children. He didn’t actually do what he was writing about people doing. I respect him, I love his books, I am glad he did what he did. But then people come along, after that, and they do it. And then they shared that with each other, and then people did it better than they saw their families do it. Other families say, “Well, I wish I hadn’t done this; it was all right, but oh, I wish we had done this." And so entire lives of young people have been lived now since John Holt died, who didn’t go to school. And what those families discovered, that John Holt could not have known, is that if you live your life receptive to the learning around you, accepting of input, appreciative of the other people around you who know things, and of the resources around you, and trying not to be prejudiced against input like television and videogame and comic book, then what happens is, the parents' learning kicks back in. The parents, who probably had sort of calcified because of school, they soften back up, and they start to want to learn. And so they are learning along with their children, or in a parallel-play kind of way. They might all be in the same place all learning different things, sharing the good parts.

Family Bonding (recorded interview and transcript)
SandraDodd.com/familybonding
photo by Sandra Dodd
of Keith and Holly, 2015

Learning/problem solving

Don't discount the learning/problem solving that is going on while our kids play video games. I can't think of anything else that he does that engages his mind so thoroughly and completely—that gets it moving and thinking and wondering. And that can only be a good thing.🙂

—Stephanie E.

The rest of Stephanie's account is great; I had a hard time choosing a short quote: SandraDodd.com/game/gamecube
photo by Sarah Peshek

Compassion and kindness

Robyn Coburn wrote:

I think that any time we get caught up in the idea that the child is "being disrespectful" (self-focused thinking) it can be harder to get back to thinking about what they are feeling, the need is they are expressing, and how to help them either fill the need, or cope with it being impossible right now, with compassion and kindness.

How do we as parents show that we respect our children, that we are parenting respectfully? One big way is by genuinely listening to them. One way is by being honest with them about our own feelings, and telling the truth about events, or unexaggerated truthful reasons about why things can or cannot occur.

—Robyn Coburn

SandraDodd.com/robyn/respect
photo by Sarah S.

Longterm love

Young love was fun. Longterm love is different—different things are fun. Familiarity. Having a good woodpile. Memories. Projects. Grandchildren.
. . . . Sometimes we start to recite one of our repeat arguments, but we remember it's a re-run, and jump to the end, or trail off. They're about feeding cats (how to), or putting tools up (one of us is too short sometimes, and figures "on the bench" is close enough), how to do laundry (mostly we do our own now, and it pisses me off that his isn't totally ruined for his not following my instructions).

I guess the trick is to know it's about cats, tools, and laundry, and not about the soul of the other person.

—Sandra Dodd, 2018

Originally on facebook, now at the bottom of SandraDodd.com/spouses (slightly longer there)
photo by Rachael Rodgers

Protect and nurture

We have been taught in school that humans have no more instincts left. WHAT bunk. Parents have the instinct to protect and nurture. Children have the instinct to experiment and learn and ask questions.

SandraDodd.com/instinct
photo by Roya Dedeaux

Honoring needs

Nancy B. quoted from a poem by Ruth Hulburt Hamilton and Melissa responded (below):

Cleaning and scrubbing can wait till tomorrow
For children grow up, we've learned to our sorrow,
So quiet down cobwebs, dust go to sleep.
I'm rocking my baby, cause babies don't keep.

Melissa wrote:

I love this...I think it struck a cord with me because, earlier today my daughter asked me to play a computer game with her and I told her that I "had" to clean the kitchen first. I got halfway between the computer and the kitchen, stopped, turned around, went back, told her I was sorry that the kitchen could wait, and played her game with her. She was so happy that I didn't care if the dishes rotted in the sink! 🙂 She only played for about five minutes but, I know that it will stick with her, that I found HER more important than the housework.

— Melissa Raley

SandraDodd.com/chores/relationship
photo by someone with Julie's camera; maybe James the dad

Good and sweet

Look at what looks good and sweet, and seek out more of that.

—Jill Parmer

SandraDodd.com/positivity

Jill quote from the bottom of a chat on "Schooling"
photo by Rippy Dusseldorp

Completely engaged

Stephanie E. wrote:

It came to me the other day that Jason is more engaged then if he were doing puzzles in a book or being read to. When he plays a video game, it is a whole-body experience. I can see his mind working—he is completely engaged. He is constantly strategizing, thinking about the next step, figuring out how to solve the next level, experimenting with options. He is also very active—jumping up and down, yelling, running in to show me his latest accomplishment.

—Stephanie E.

GameCube and Little Boys
photo by Karen James

Scattering to learn

Part of a 2004 description of our unschooling home, when three kids and their friends were here:

They come here and we’re working a puzzle or building something and they’ll get into that, too. It’s fun. We do things that are just fun. You can hardly walk by without picking it up and messing with it, too.

Sometimes, someone—my husband and one of the kids—will be doing something in one room and in the next room, some other friends are over and they are playing a video game and in another room or outside, another kid and somebody else are doing something else.

That also is the idea of the open classroom. Their ideal was not to be sitting at desks reading but to sit in a soft place, in a dark place, in a private place or wherever you wanted to, to read. So they tried to have interesting places where kids could get away from the other kids.


Sound file and transcript, of "Improving Unschooling" interview: SandraDodd.com/radiotranscript
photo by Destiny Dodd, of Kirby Dodd and their daughter, Kirby Dodd.

Choosing to relax

I know the word "struggle" is as popular as "groovy" was in 1967, but it's not nearly as groovy.

If every time you start to write or say "struggle" you stop and rephrase, then you can move toward rephrasing every time you *think* "struggle." And your struggles will be over as soon as you stop struggling.

Struggling is not as good as living with choices and looking up instead of down.

Find ways to relax, rather than to struggle.

SandraDodd.com/struggle
photo by Roya Dedeaux

Think deeply; respond kindly

"Focussing on being my child's partner is helping me to place my real life children front and centre of my attention and to think deeply and respond kindly and appropriately to their particular needs in this particular moment."

—Zoe Thompson-Moore

SandraDodd.com/seeing
photo by Cátia Maciel

Good for a long time

If parents don't heal from those kinds of issues in their own childhoods, they will likely be perpetuated onto the next generation. Parents discovering and letting go of their old baggage is essential for unschooling to flourish.

And, as well as being good for unschooling, it's also good for the parents themselves, their children, family and other relationships, and generations to come!

—Debbie Regan

SandraDodd.com/issues
photo by Nicole Kenyon

Passing real tests

Sandra Dodd, of Holly Dodd (Holly was 12 and told an older story, in 2003):

My husband's oldest brother came to visit and she and Marty discussed how to deal with his quizzy questions, usually math. She told me a story from when she was littler, maybe eight. Uncle Gerry had been here, and Holly was brushing her teeth. He stood watching her, and started in about how important it is to brush teeth and floss, because (as Holly reported, he said in a teacherly voice) "Do you know how many sets of teeth you have in this lifetime?"

Holly said, "Two?" (in a kind of "is this a trick question" tone) and she said he was already holding up his index finger as the "one" of the coming "right answer," and he added another finger and sheepishly said, "That's right. Two."

So Holly won a big point and never even told us about it at the time. Cool story. I don't think he quizzed them this time. It's getting to the point that they're likely to know something he doesn't know and he likes to maintain his semblance of superiority. LOL!

original (2/3 down that topic)

Update in 2021, Holly 29 years old, and Gerry having recently been in town when Holly was here, too. Holly was very helpful to her uncle, driving him to an auto parts store and helping him figure out what his plan might be to get back to Alamogordo, if his car couldn't be fixed easily. She's nearly 30 now, and he's in his mid-70s. After she left, he went on for a while about how helpful and good-hearted and wonderful she is. I appreciated hearing it, and passed it on to her later.

---

SandraDodd.com/betteranswers
photo by Irene Adams (Holly's aunt; my sister)

Holly was seven in this photo, with more of her first set of teeth, casually preparing for Uncle Gerry's quiz-to-come the next year.

Please and thank you

This was written in 2005, so note the update below.

My husband and I always said please and thank you to each other, and friends would comment on it, when were were dating and first living together. They said they don't say "please" for a glass of water or "thank you" for a kleenex. We always did, though, and still do. The kids picked it up easily because they heard it all the time.

Today's our 21st wedding anniversary.
We were together for six years before that.
We still say please and thank you, and we say it to the kids, too.

(original)

---

Later this month we will have our 39th anniversary.

When Keith thanks me for making a meal, I thank him for having bought the groceries. Tonight he thanked me for making a fire, and I thanked him for the firewood.

Experiments and experiences
photo by Rachael Rodgers, in 2016
when we'd been married 32 years

Rich, full lives

Meredith Novak, years ago, on communicating with relatives who ask about unschooling:

It's helpful to keep in mind that one of the big things grandparents want is a sense of connection with their grandchildren. When kids aren't in school, that can feel awkward - what the heck do you say to a child other than "what are you doing in school?" Especially if you only see him twice a year? It can leave extended family members stymied. So it helps a whoooole lot to feed them useful information and conversation starters in the form of something grandparents usually like anyway - pictures and stories of their grandkids. Keeping a blog or sending regular notes (via facebook or plain old snail mail) goes a long way in that regard. And! they get to see their beloved grandchildren happy and adventurous, which can help to reassure them on that score.

Unschooling can come across as some kind of weird cult if you try to explain it from a theoretical side first. Start with happy kids living rich, full lives and school starts to seem less of an issue.

—Meredith

SandraDodd.com/relatives/responding
photo by Cátia Maciel

Giving and connecting

[The word "Service"] stirred negative feelings for many years, until I had my first child.

Being with my children, giving them in each moment all I can, learning and growing with them, changed my understanding of "service."

I have chosen to give, help and serve my children. I feel being with them has contributed towards a new understanding of the word as well as a way of building a connection with them. I can also see how it can be extended to others.

I realize how much weight a word can carry, how changes in my own feelings have lightened that weight and thrown a new light on the word itself. Service now stirs up and brings great feelings of joy.

— Parvine Shahid
March 2015

SandraDodd.com/serviceResponse
photo by Cátia Maciel