The Discovery Moment

Carol Brown (Cally) once wrote:

We have been homeschooling for almost 18 years, and one of my favourite memories is of a day shortly after I removed my 5yo from school, where he had spent a very long seven weeks. We were going home from a friend's, accompanied by her daughter, also five, who was going to stay the night. We passed a school, where arborists were trimming some very large trees, hanging from ropes and chainsawing branches. We stopped and watched for about 3/4 hour.

This was when I truly started to realise what homeschooling was all about.

It was about learning all the time; it wasn't about learning being restricted to certain hours (all the school kids had missed out as they were long gone!)

It was about living with my kids and enabling them to learn - by stopping and watching, rather than going home to get dinner which was already going to be late.

It wasn't about curriculum or age-appropriate learning objectives, it was about observing and living life.

I was interested, they were interested, and when we went home, and had our very late dinner, it was wonderful to hear them excitedly telling dh all about it.

It's about living and learning joyfully.

—Cally

SandraDodd.com/gettingit
photo by Cally Brown
(different trees)

Experiences flowing over

Me, a few hours ago, to a longtime unschooling mom, and friend, across the world:

When people say I don't know anything about unschooling except my own kids and my own family, a flood of families flow over my memories, of people who have shared with me and (often) the whole world how things were unfolding, in small moments and over years. 🙂

Without the internet, we couldn't have zoomed along on that flow of encouraging information.

—Sandra Dodd

SandraDodd.com/learning
photo by Jihong Tang

Purely learning

Facebook Memories showed me that someone on another continent had quoted me, years ago:

Learning does not teach us, but from learning we learn.

I still haven't found her source, but in looking I found its "wordier" cousin posted here in 2011:

Mastering ideas about learning

As some of my articles are being translated (now into Japanese, French and Italian) I see how much of my writing and thinking is about language itself, and so some of these ideas won't translate. But sometimes, that fact is very good. Some of our confusion about teaching and students and study and learning, in English, has to do with the words we use, and if the problems don't exist in other languages, that's wonderful for them.

In Romance language (Italian, French, Spanish and so on) our "teacher" translates to something along the lines of "maestro," a word we have too in regards to music direction. And we have the English cognate "master" which is more currently left in "master of arts" and other college-degree titles. Once that meant a person was qualified to teach at the university level. That meaning is gone in the U.S., pretty much.

Considering the word family from which "maestro" comes (and not knowing all its connotations in other languages), the English verb "to master" means to learn. It means to become accomplished in the doing of something. Whether mastering horseback riding or blacksmithing or knowing and controlling one's own emotions, it's not something someone else does to you or for you.

So for any translators or bilinguals reading here, have sympathy for English speakers who can't get to natural learning without disentangling all the graspy words and ideas about teaching and education and their implications that learning is passive and teaching must be done to a person.

SandraDodd.com/wordswordsother
photo by Sandra Dodd

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

Climbing

Karen James wrote, in part:

A few weeks ago my husband, son and myself went for a bit of a hike. My son wanted to climb a big, steep hill that overlooked the ocean and had rocks at the top that he could climb and sit on. I looked up that hill and thought "Oh crikey! That's a steep hill." (I'm not in as good a shape I used to be.) But I could see that Ethan really wanted to climb it, and he really wanted us to join him, so I smiled and said "Let's go!" He's thirteen. I don't know how many more years I'll be invited (or have) to join him on his adventures. I choose to relish them now, while I still have the health and the opportunity to do so.

Ethan ran ahead, excited. My husband followed closer behind him. I took a deep breath and began walking too. Instead of looking all the way up the top of the hill, I looked at the ground as I climbed. I looked right and left and relished in the little details I found. Seeing the ground move steadily beneath my feet was encouraging, and made the climb seem not so steep. ....

It might not seem like it now, but those early years pass fast. I love all the happy memories I've made with Ethan these past 13 years. As he's growing more and more into his own interests, I can see the little boy he once was twirling on a trampoline for the twentieth or more time saying "Watch me now!" landing with pride every time. ...

Read the rest here:
Mindfulness in Unschooling
photo by Cátia Maciel

Attention as an investment

Karen James wrote:

It might not seem like it now, but those early years pass fast. I love all the happy memories I've made with Ethan these past 13 years. As he's growing more and more into his own interests, I can see the little boy he once was twirling on a trampoline for the twentieth or more time saying "Watch me now!" landing with pride every time. I can hear the breathless laughs of a child who rooted for the hundredth time for Tom the cat to catch that too-clever mouse Jerry. I know the brave spirit of that little person exploring the dark night and caves of Minecraft. I was there for all of it and more. Thousands of hours of dedicated focus. I don't regret a single moment. If anything, I wish I'd given more. I still have time, thankfully.

It did take a lot of my time, attention and energy, and there were times when I was really, really tired at the end of the day, and mornings when I was slow to want to embrace the day. But I see all that time and energy and attention as an investment—in my son, and in my own future. If I get to grow old, I hope these are some of the moments that bring colour to my winters.

—Karen James

SandraDodd.com/mindfulness
photo by Denaire Nixon

Viewpoint

The camper from which this photo was taken has been moving around Europe extensively, so the view changes, but the doorway stays about the same. This day, they were in Turkey.

What we perceive is seen through our own eyes. Even looking at a photo, we see what WE see, of what the photographer saw. Our thoughts can't be theirs. What it smelled like can't be conveyed, or how it sounded.

Some scenes and places and stories, dishes, houses, I have shared with my husband and children, but still their perceptions and memories can only be their own. This is a good thing, and good to remember.

Center of the Universe
photo by Ester Siroky

Help your children glow.

Fireworks, candles and seasonal decorations create glowing moments marking the passing of time. None of them will last, but your memories might.

Help your children glow. See the light in them. Time is passing. Childhood won't last, but your memories might.

SandraDodd.com/partners/child
photo by Sandra Dodd,
of Devyn's first jack-o-lantern, 2015

Antiques

This tractor is on the family farm in California where it has been since it was new, many years ago. Perhaps, these days, it is "yard art." I don't know if it runs, but the vision and image of it, the history and the memories, are like a museum in themselves, for those who know any of the family, or the history of the area.

I knew a family with an electric toaster from the early 20th century. I saw it in the 1970s, so it's twice as old now, wherever it is. It didn't work, but it was fun to imagine it, in the fancy house it once lived in, far from New Mexico. The bread would need to be turned, halfway through. The metal itself was embossed with simple floral art nouveau designs.

Non-working items can still help others learn, and envision, and remember.

Everyday Art
photo by Denaire Nixon

Turn away (and smile)

Negativity is contagious poison. Turn just a little bit away from it. Then you can turn away easier the next time; and take a step away, and soon you aren't even standing by it.

SandraDodd.com/positivity
photo by Gail Higgins

(Because Erika D-P quoted me in 2013, I can share it with you in 2023 thanks to "Memories" on Facebook. The longer original is here at Radical Unschooling Info.)

Philosophical cookies

What makes "a watermelon cookie"? These didn't taste like watermelon. They weren't made of watermelon. The term here is all about their appearance.

Watermelon is usually considered to be healthy, but tourists and host families in India are reminded that if someone should not drink "the local water," that they should also avoid watermelon, as that fruit takes in and stores some of the potentially dangerous (to visitors) elements of local water.

These cookies have nothing to do with India, or with bad water, except wait.... I just connected them, in a way.

Some parents might cringe (or worse) at the idea of my joy in something involving sugar and food coloring, but as I'm already talking about memories and connections, I can remind readers that parental disapproval (especially when it's overblown or overstated) does more damage than sugar-coated food-colored sugar with chocolate chips ever could.

I learned the watermelon cookie recipe from a younger friend, when she asked me if I could make them for her wedding reception. I did. She had horses. My daughter, who was eight years old or so and learning to braid, was able to help groom and braid the mane of one of those horses, and work some ribbons in there somehow. Later she did that with people, and My Little Ponies.

My granddaughter wasn't born when all that happened, but now she has helped make those cookies. She might never meet Sarah, who had watermelon-cookie memories from her own childhood.

Connections and memories involve people, places, newnesses, learning, amusement, trivia, and thoughts about the meaning of life, and of reality. The more naturally people can see and appreciate those things, the better life and learning will be.


Report on the making of watermelon cookies
Photos by Sandra Dodd—
this one is a link:

Customized, thoughtful choices

When you make the smallest of choices about what to do, say or think concerning your child, base it on your own child, in that moment. Think anew each time.

There is a danger in living an entirely reactionary life. If you do everything the opposite of what your mom did, it's as bad as doing exactly what your mom did without knowing why. Be discriminating and thoughtful. Don't chuck the ghost of the baby you were out with the bathwater of your emotional memories.

The second paragraph is from SandraDodd.com/relatives

Holly took the photo. I don't who is holding that flower,
but I know that that moment and that flower are long gone.

Humor helps

Deb Lewis wrote:

Studies are now popping up suggesting laughter makes our brains work better, reduces stress and helps sick people get well...

I don't think humor will guarantee my kid will have a better life, but I know it won't hurt him. If all it does is leave him with happy memories of his childhood and parents, I'll count it among our most useful tools."

—Deb Lewis

SandraDodd.com/deblewis/humor
photo by Elise Lauterbach

Memory

I took this photo in 2014, on a beach on the east coast of Australia. A man walking his dog told me what caused those tiny sandballs that were here and there. I remembered, for a while, but I don't know now.

It was an interesting mystery at first, and now it is again! I would love to blame over-activity or aging for this, but it's just the way I am. My oldest said once that it must be great for me to be able to see movies again and still be surprised by the ending.

Some things I remember well, and some I don't. Some recipes I look up every time. Some spellings I double check. Names and faces elude me the first several times; it takes a while.

Be patient with yourself and others, about details. Discovering something the second time can be fun, too. Some people are aging, and over-active. Stress never helps. Be kind. Repeat yourself with a smile.

SandraDodd.com/memories
photo by Sandra Dodd

If nobody makes you...

Sadie Brown, now a veterinarian in her 30s (once Sadie Yurista, unschooled in Northern New Mexico) sent this a few years ago, writing, "It made me think of you and learn nothing day."

Calvin and Hobbes online
art and concept by Bill Watterson; read more at the link above!

Sent by Sadie Brown; rescued by facebook memories.
Sadie had sent a photo of a page from a book at her house. I found a flatter, lighter version online. Bill Watterson's work is wonderful, and I hope any of you who don't know those characters will spend some time with them.

Evolving hour by hour

I was interested in teaching and people and writing my whole life, and the intensive experience of learning so much about unschooling and parenting, and learning to use new resources to help other people have opportunities to learn wasn’t "on the schedule." It evolved hour by hour over the years and has brought us all many great friends and memories.

20 Unschooling Questions: Sandra Dodd from NM, USA
photo at Bushy Park, by one of the parents one day in September 2016

Many homey, happy things

Part of what makes a house a home is the familiarity of the dishes, towels, tools and chairs. Easily, we can forget to look, but in memories of childhood homes and grandparents' and friends' homes, you might recall things that seemed special to you as a guest. Sometimes I'll see a bowl, or pot-holder, or cheese grater that reminds me of my granny's house, or my mamaw's. One of my aunts had house plants and photos of Elvis, intermingled on shelves.

Some things about your house will be memories for your children and grandchildren, but you can't know which things those will be.

Dishes (and peace)
photo by Karen James

Adoration

Moms and dads are big characters in other people's lives. How's your acting? How is your being?

You're famous in your family.

Don't disappoint your fans!

Better memories
photo by Cass Kotrba

Kinder, gentler ways

If a parent knows that she wants to be kinder, gentler, more positive, more nurturing, there are things that she can do—little changes she can make and decisions she can make—that lead her toward that, and "follow your heart" is not a good one.


When people say "Well, I just followed my heart," sometimes that didn't go to a really good place because they didn't have a picture of their child's feelings. Coming up with a plan to logically step, step, step-by-step away from the dark confusion of people's childhood memories, hidden ideas, frustrations, fears—stepping away from that into the light is a better thing to do. And eventually they may get so good at this 'being more positive' that it seems like they're following their heart. But it needs to be their new, improved, mindful heart.

SandraDodd.com/interviews/extras
photo by Vlad Gurdiga

Viewpoint

The camper from which this photo was taken has been moving around Europe extensively, so the view changes, but the doorway stays about the same. This day, they were in Turkey.

What we perceive is seen through our own eyes. Even looking at a photo, we see what WE see, of what the photographer saw. Our thoughts can't be theirs. What it smelled like can't be conveyed, or how it sounded.

Some scenes and places and stories, dishes, houses, I have shared with my husband and children, but still their perceptions and memories can only be their own. This is a good thing, and good to remember.

Center of the Universe
photo by Ester Siroky