photo by Irene Adams
One of my favorite pages, on my site, is my collection of people saying they felt like they were unschooling and then something changed and they "got it." (sandradodd.com/gettingit)Marta Pires:
People are saying things like "It seems miraculous" and "It is amazing how far reaching the effect was."
So this is part of why I'm uncompromising in my position about what does and what doesn't help.
When people want to dilute unschooling, I object.
I'm glad you're not willing to compromise.Sandra Dodd:
When people want to devalue, granulate and scatter unschooling, they will keep people from reaching those miraculous-seeming and far-reaching results.Alex Polikowsky:
And even more important is for those who think just doing nothing is the same as unschooling. I am talking disconnected, somewhat neglectful parents who may be sweet and all but still have not gotten it and that leaves kids without a real present partner they can rely on for support and guidance.


I see so many families trying 'no limits' and then…I responded:
Two problems: "trying" and "no limits." If a kid knows the parent is only "trying" something, he will certainly take all he can get, desperately and in a frenzy.
"No limits" is not something any family should believe in, or promise their children The world has limits of all sorts. Parents don't need to add to that, but parents can't guarantee "no limits." They CAN give children lots of choices and options.
Gradual change would have helped.
Saying yes a thousand little times is better for everyone than one big confusing "Yes forever, don't care, OH WAIT! Take it back."
SandraDodd.com/cairns
photo by Sandra Dodd (in Albuquerque)


Unschooling advice—or deschooling oneself—does not change just because the kids get older: *Get closer to your child.*
Eliminate those degrees of separation that have started to grow fearful roots in you! When that happens, *you* actually start to *create* that divisiveness and separation in your relationship, by listening to your fear over the needs and interests of your kid. Do not let that monster in! Shine the light on the scary cobwebs and dark stuff.


Whenever we walk at this particular place, I always look for this tree. It's alone at the top of a cliff, at the curve of the path that winds us eventually back to where we started.
I love its solitary presence.
I love its asymmetry, shaped, in part, by the strong winds coming off the ocean.
I love that it stands at a fork, with one path bending softly toward a return, and one leading to the edge of the cliff.
I love that I can see Ethan climbing and resting in it in my memory.
Today, I loved its hard shadows and blue backdrop because that meant the smoke had parted, at least for now. It looks beautiful in the mist too. It's a beautiful tree.