Real-world math

Marti Kennedy wrote:

My son once pointed out that he finds math in the "real world" less stressful because you don't always have to get it right the first time; if you find you've made a mistake, you can go back and refigure. On assignments and tests, when it's wrong, it's wrong.

—Marti Kennedy

Quote saved by Joyce Fetteroll,
at "Unschooling Math"
photo by Alex Polikowsky

Exciting and alluring? Good!

Once a mom was afraid, and wrote:

My kids are almost 7 and 4.5 and they received an iPad. Now all day long they want to use it. I freak out. I am so afraid that they will not play anymore or go out or do anything apart from that. Would you regulate screen time?

There were good responses; part of mine was:

They ARE playing.. . . .

If kids are "almost 7 and 4.5" (meaning they are four and six years old—padding doesn't change anything except to indicate, maybe, that the mom has higher expectations of them)... if they are getting along well, sharing an iPad, that's sweet and good. If they're taking turns well, also good.

If that iPad is so exciting and alluring that it's disturbing the peace, consider getting another one. They will NOT live there forever, but they might be so excited about them at first that it seems to the parent they will never look away from it.

I have two very profound pages for parents to read who are having similar fears. One is by Pam Sorooshian, about principles of economics. The other is a collection of nonsensical statements made by real parents in public. Science and the exposure of non-scientific thought. 🙂

Economics of Restricting TV Watching of Children
Pam Sorooshian

"If I let him, he would..."

SandraDodd.com/seeing
photo by Sandra Dodd

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)

Lucky Kirby!

Kirby, my oldest, was born in 1986. I went to La Leche League (LLL). There I learned a crucial concept: my child and I were partners, not adversaries. What was good for him was good for me. At that time I had been going to Adult Children of Alcoholics meetings for a little over a year, and there I learned that we need to avoid repeating our parents' parenting mistakes, and that by raising our own children gently and respectfully, that we would heal our own hurts.

Lucky Kirby!

SandraDodd.com/unschoolingworks, 2002
photo by Ester Siroky

Doing things with teens

When someone asked about strewing for teens:

Your family needs to be interested and interesting. Go places. Bring things and people in. Visit friends of yours who have cool stuff or do interesting things. Ask him to go with you if you take the dog to the vet. Drive home different ways and take your time. Putz around. Go to the mall some morning when it's not at all full of teens, and windowshop.

If you can afford it, find something in another town like a play, concert, museum, event and take him there. Stay overnight.

Go touristing somewhere not too far from you. Like if you had out-of-town guests, but just go with your son.

Watch films together.

Is there something you do that he might want to learn? Is there something you could learn together? Maybe the two of you could take a class or join a group that does... photography, hiking, quilting, scrapbooking, pottery, woodworking...

There are many more ideas at
SandraDodd.com/strew/teens
photo by Lydia Koltai

The life-enriching choice

Pam Sorooshian, the end of something great, linked below:

My suggestion is that you ask yourself really honestly, is there something more I could be doing for my child that would enhance my child’s life? If the answer is yes, then make the choice to do it. Then ask this question of yourself again and again and, each time, make the life-enriching choice. Apply this to small things and to big momentous decisions. Small things – could I make something for dinner that would be special and interesting? Did I see a cool rock on the ground outside – could I bring it in and wash it and set it on the table for others to notice. Big things – would my child enjoy traveling – can we take a family vacation that involves exploring things my child would find interesting?

In unschooling, “lazy” means not thinking about enriching and enhancing your child’s life. You change this by doing it – one choice at a time.

—Pam Sorooshian
Unschoolers are Lazy?

See also: Building an Unschooling Nest
photo by Robert and Robbie Prieto

Your absolute knowledge

From a message board, in 2001:

does it get easier with time?

Yes!

Do you get more confident as time goes by?

Yes.

or do you just care less what others think?

As your confidence grows, it will dwarf what others think. The truth of your absolute knowledge will weed out the small, vague, unfounded doubts of others around you after a few years.

That's my experience and that of many other families with whom I've kept in contact over years.

Sandra

Unschooling Mindset
photo by Cally Brown

More or less

I often think back to the things I learned in La Leche League, from readings and other moms. If you nurse a child a long time does it make him dependent on the mom? Seems to be the opposite. If you hug a child every time he wants a hug, does it make him want a hug-a-day for life? You WISH!

The more they get, the less they need.

Quote from a very-early online chat for homeschoolers,
late 1995 or early 1996, SandraDodd.com/detox.
Photo of Kate Koetsier and her 10th Birthday cake
by her mom, Cathy, years ago.

Don't be arbitrary

Someone wrote that the best thing she had learned from me in unschooling discussions was "Don't be arbitrary."

The writing below came in my response to that.

---

Consistency isn't magic. If a parent isn't using judgment in individual instances, but is just going by rules, it's not better than being arbitrary.

There SHOULD be times when kids can be louder and wilder, and times when parents are especially generous, and times when everyone should chill, and it's not a good time to spend money.

"It depends" is a good answer. Decision making based on the reality of the moment is more valuable than "consistency" or arbitrary decisions.

SandraDodd.com/depends
photo by Nina Haley

"Tires me just watching"

All those "he'll play all the time and not get any exercise" doomsayers need to see DS play - it's an aerobic workout that tires me just watching! He rarely sits and usually spends half his time jumping. Yes, we have plans to pick up some wireless controllers to facilitate movement without getting tangled up (the dogs will like that!).

—Deb Rossing
aka Bugsmom

SandraDodd.com/game/nintendogoldcomments
photo by Crystal

Who needs to know what?

In a discussion about things unschooling parents have learned from their kids, I told a story involving my Uncle Billy Jack, a fun guy I didn't see much:

When I was a kid, 10 or so, my mom's youngest brother (who was probably 24, 25 at the time) asked me "What's the capital of South Dakota?"

I said "I don't know, what is it?"

He said "I don't have to know—I'm not in school."

That moment is branded in my brain.

I went and learned it [Pierre, SD] when I got home, and haven't forgotten, though it will NEVER matter to me in any way whatsoever. It's trivia disguised as "knowledge." But the idea that there were things kids needed to know and adults didn't care anything about stayed with me.

---

Unschoolers see their kids learning all kinds of things joyfully, for fun. I'm definitely NOT opposed to trivia. Trivia means "it won't be on the test." Without tests, everything can be entertaining trivia.

SandraDodd.com/trivia
photo by Alex Polikowsky

Learning from our kids

People assume they will teach their kids lots of things. Then they move on to knowing they don't need to teach, just help/assist/facilitate. But there's that other area where the kids know things we don't know (and maybe could use knowing). By the time you get to that stage, confidence is easy to have, I think.

From the transcript of a chat on Learning from our Kids
photo by Colleen Prieto

Confidence and reason

Pam Sorooshian, in a discussion in June 2011:

I didn't get to observe radically unschooled kids before coming to the conclusions I did about how children learn. I'm sure it helps build confidence to see grown unschooled kids—that's why my kids and I make ourselves available. But it isn't necessary. For me, it required confidence in my own logical thinking ability. I reasoned things out and did what made sense to me. I gathered ideas from a lot of people, including you (Joyce) and Sandra (but all of us still had young kids back then, so there was no evidence of older kids or young adults yet).

My willingness to think for myself—to analyze, critique, to be open-minded, and to trust my own conclusions—that was how I came to understand unschooling. Well, that and actual trying things out in our own family and paying attention to what happened and, again, thinking for myself. This whole unschooling journey was very very much an intellectual process for me—a process of developing deeper and deeper understanding by reading and listening to others, thinking hard about what I'd read and heard, applying what made sense, paying attention to how things were going, waiting a little, trying out other ideas that seemed to make sense, and continuing that process for all the years I had children—taking in input of others ideas and experiences, considering and analyzing, acting on my own conclusions, observing my own family dynamics—all at the same time.

—Pam Sorooshian

SandraDodd.com/understanding
photo by Karen James
of Ethan's early art

Two days until Learn Nothing Day

Past Voices

Let the past inform your decisions. Let the past be a little angel on your shoulder, but don't let the voices in your head tell you what to do. It might be time to tell the voices in your head "enough."


Voices in your head
photo by Karen James

Highlight now

Our parents grew up in a different time, with different pressures and realities, and there's no profit in trying to persuade them they should've had the sensibilities you might have now (or that you're developing or would like to have). If you focus on what you want to do with and for your own children and why, the rest of the family can begin to fade in importance.



Customized, thoughtful choices
photo by Sandra Dodd

Imagine that

The richness of that environment of learning, where the parents and the children are exploring what they want to explore and sharing little bits along the way, sliding in and out of each others' hobbies, it is so big, it's so rich, and when the children are old enough to get jobs—mine all got jobs as teens, but in some countries that’s not as legal as it is where I am—and when they decide to move out, it’s so smooth, it’s so normal. It already seems not unusual that a child would move out, would find a cool opportunity and move out, and that the parents would help them willingly, sweetly.

And I’ve seen that now dozens of times, and I assume I will see that hundreds of times before I'm through, and most people have not seen that one time. They can’t imagine it; they don’t believe it. What they see is: when the child turns 18, everything changes.

I’ve talked to kids who said they were so scared and stressed when they were 17, because they knew when they turned 18, their parents were going to start charging them rent, or throw them out, or if they didn’t go to the university, they should go to the military—all this huge pressure to get... to get out. You are done now; we're done.

So people hadn’t considered that they could totally avoid that, that that would be a natural offshoot of radical unschooling.

I was speaking, not writing.
You can hear and read more here:
Family Bonding
photo by Holly Dodd

Wonder, imagination and beauty

Karen James wrote:

Instead of being afraid of this and that in society, open your heart to wonder. Spend meaningful time with your kids doing the things that captivate their imagination. Don't talk too much. Listen more. Really look into their eyes, and see how they see the world. Listen to what they're sharing with you, and hear how they interpret the world. Support what they see, and hear, and come to define as their model of reality. The more you show your support, the more you'll be invited to be a part of their lives, and the more beautiful your mutual experience will be.

—Karen James

SandraDodd.com/karenjames/hindsight
photo by Cally Brown
in New Zealand

Fear of media, and of newness

Yesterday I sent an extra post by accident. The one about TV wasn't ready, but it still works. I had planned to make a webpage with photos of more poster boards with people's notes about what they had learned from different shows. When I've done that, someday, I'll post it again.

It's hard for people to conceive of how fearful people were of television viewing, or of video games, just two or three decades ago. I myself missed out on the days when reading novels had been considered a trashy activity. I knew, somewhat, about adults' fear of comic books, when I was a kid; teachers would confiscate comics and not give them back, sometimes.

Time has passed and these days the scary edge of unfamiliar technology is AI, such as Chat GPT and Claude. Alexa is getting in there more. Google's AI has recently started having longer exchanges if you ask questions. I hope Google AI will get better; that one I don't trust as much.

My experience with Chat GPT is that if you ask a philosophical question, or tell a story, or start a conversation, you might have a lot of fun. Start with something you know and care about.

If you use one of these links, it will open at the end of the exchange. Scroll up if you want the beginning. Some of the questions I've asked have been

• why does freeze frame sound like the Ramones or Devo (I kept my original question format—not really formatted...)
  
  
• Was "Encino Man" a direct take-off on "ET the Extraterrestrial"?
  
  
• What rock or pop singers have voices that could have performed in a 19th century music hall without amplification?

Mostly I like to explore musical topics, but I asked about why my front-yard apple tree has so many apples though it didn't last year; cooking questions and ideas; which kinds of intelligences are best served by exchanges with AI; mysteries about a new medication I'm taking that's to be mixed with juice—about which juices weren't working well, one way or another (settled on tangerine juice); various details about the UK series "Shetland"; taxidermy and the series "Vera"... I've gotten feedback and ideas on traditional ballads (I used to collect and sing them in my teens and 20s), and fairytales/archetypes/psychology of identity. It's a way for me to bounce ideas around and get input on trivial topics, usually, and the discussions are fun.

If the thought of that scares or offends you, think about why. Consider asking Chat GPT or Claude why. Google's AI probably doesn't know.

It's a tool and a toy and you'll still be safe at home. Be brave, about learning.

If you wonder something, and you don't have friends who know, or who would let you roll the question around until you were tired of it, consider AI like a Magic 8 Ball, or a Ouija Board, if those are less scary. It's way better than either.

Fear itself
photo by Catherine Forest
of Watersprite Lake

Snapshot

Things change. Babies grow. Young parents get older.

See what you have. Remember what is good, from this moment, from this time.

What is not memorably good, perhaps you can make better for the next moment.

SandraDodd.com/gratitude
photo by Lydia Koltai, a beautiful selfie

Look back at progress

[One day in 2006—me, Sandra Dodd:]

I dropped an egg on the floor. Just fumbled it, splat, and I looked at it. I remembered the first time I ever spilled anything and remained really calm. It was baby bathwater, when Kirby was just six months old or so. We were due to a meeting (LLL? Probably, or some appointment) soon, and I had given him a bath and had him all dressed to go, and wanted to pour the tub out. In moving it from the kitchen table over to the sink (a short distance at our old house—nobody who's recently been to our new house should bother to envision) it bent and like two or three gallons of soapy water went all over the floor.

I didn't cuss myself out, didn't stomp or yell or ANYthing. I just looked at it and thought the floor needed to be cleaned anyway, and I threw some rags or towels down on it so it wouldn't get away, and figured I'd clean it up better later. I never felt shame or embarrassment or frustration or the feeling that life isn't fair or that I was stupid. That was new to me, and I was 33.

A week and some ago, I dropped an egg calmly and realized it had been 20 years since I had to get angry and emotional over making a mistake like that.

---

The original post, in 2011: Look back at progress (three comments, on that one)

When I dropped that egg, Kirby was 20. In July 2026, pretty soon, he will be 40. I'm still more calm about things than I would have been had I not consciously decided to be a calmer and more accepting person for the sake of my children.

SandraDodd.com/factors
photo by Sandra Dodd