Treasure-ish

One country's trash is another country's mysterious antique treasure.

SandraDodd.com/museum
photo by Sandra Dodd

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

Your House as a Museum

There are stories behind the things you have. You're saving history, geography, social ties, mysteries. Share those stories with your children and your guests, if there's a lull, or a connection to be made.

SandraDodd.com/museum
photo by Sandra Dodd

The wondrous now

There are WONDROUS things people can do with current technology, and it's likely to get better and better, isn't it?

Don't separate your children from the future, from progress, and from understanding and using things just because the parents don't understand them or use them as well as they might. Don't hobble your child out of fear or superstition or trying to impress people you don't even know who want to scare and shame you. Be your child's partner. Lift him up and let him see.

SandraDodd.com/partners/child
photo by Sandra Dodd, of sculpture and shadows in Albuquerque,
to share around the world, without printing, paper or postage

I shouldn't have been surprised.

Parts of a longer, fast-paced story of twelve-year-old Holly Dodd, who asked me this:

"Will you read me the whole Bible?"

"Sure. Now? I think I have one right in here." I did. I asked if I should start with the best parts or just start at the beginning.

She ignored that, and said "Are you going to trick me and read Lord of the Rings?"

"Don't you think you would know the difference?"

"I don't know." . . . .
(more commentary ensued)
She might or might not come back for more, but she made more intelligent comments and asked more questions that actually meant something than some people would be willing to ask in a year of Sunday School. And she made connections with Lord of the Rings, homeschooling, language, journalistic integrity, Strongbad, poetry and the Wizard of Oz.

Holly and the Bible
The image used to be on the Metropolitan Museum of Art site, and linked on my page, but they let theirs slide away. I lifted a copy from the Wayback Machine at the Internet Archive. The artist wasn't identified, but the subject is Toah, an ancestor of the prophet Samuel.

Principles, rules, and coaching

Sandra Dodd:

Principles produce all kinds of answers where rules fail.

Alex Polikowsky:

Some people come to unschooling and in the beginning of their journey they ditch rules but try to replace them with unschooling "rules". Replace them with principles.

When you do, most of your questions and doubts will no longer be there.

Michele James-Parham:

Another common "unschooling rule" or frame of mind due to misinterpretation: We're unschoolers and don't have rules, so we don't have to follow your rules (in-laws, restaurant, museum, etc.).

Just because you allow jumping on your couch at home, doesn't mean that Grandma has to allow jumping on her couch or that the museum has to allow jumping on its couch in the lobby.

SandraDodd.com/coaching
photo by Belinda Dutch

Depth and breadth

Sink-Like-a-Stone Method:

Instead of skimming the surface of a subject or interest, drop anchor there for a while. If someone is interested in chess, mess with chess. Not just the game, but the structure and history of tournaments. How do chess clocks work? What is the history of the names and shapes of the playing pieces? What other board games are also traditional and which are older than chess? If you're near a games shop or a fancy gift shop, wander by and look at different chess sets on display. It will be like a teeny chess museum. The interest will either increase or burn out—don't push it past the child's interest.

When someone understands the depth and breadth of one subject, he will know that any other subject has breadth and depth.

From "Disposable Checklists for Unschoolers"
SandraDodd.com/checklists
scanner image by Sandra Dodd

The World as a Museum

Be willing to be surprised where you are, to appreciate the unexpected, and to stop and notice something old or artsy.

What's familiar to you might be brand new to a child.

SandraDodd.com/learning
photo by Sandra Dodd

The Museum of Everything

When you're talking to young children who are figuring out their new language and their new world, avoid saying "always" or "never." Instead of making rules for him or dire predictions, explain your concerns and thoughts.  Give him some "why" to go with his "what" and "where" and "when." Even give him some "why" to go with his "who." Don't forget that he won't know what "aunt" and "cousin" mean. He won't automatically figure out "neighbor" or "co-worker."

You're like a docent in The Museum of Everything.


The quote is from page 63 (or 68) of The Big Book of Unschooling
photo by Sandra Dodd

Open

When I reject something from my life, it closes doors, in my head, and in my soul. I can't make connections there anymore. I have eliminated it from active play. It's not good for unschoolers.

Open and unfold, enlarge and expand.

SandraDodd.com/halfempty
photo by Sandra Dodd

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

Private ideas

I love museums. Museums of any sort are special to me, and sometimes I'm thinking about the building or whose idea it was or where the funding comes from to keep the lights and heat on, and to hire people to keep it all safe and clean.

What others are thinking in a museum, even if they're with me, could never be exactly the same. An object will, without fail, remind me of a personal experience, or of when or where I first learned of such things. If it's SO NEW to me that I'm surprised, I tend to think of which friend of mine, alive or dead, I would most like to share it with, or to ask about it. Sometimes that's my dad, especially if the object is an old truck, or a metal structure.

Sometimes I've been the person one of my kids shared something with. That's sweet, and I get to know a bit about what they're connecting to and with.

Long ago, I came to see the whole world as a museum. I love that, too.

SandraDodd.com/museum
photo by Rippy Dusseldorp

One special place

Near you there are many many plain and simple things that you might overlook for being commonplace, everyday, throwaway background sights, sounds, smells, tastes or textures.

What are walls and fences made of where you are? Some other places, it is very different. How does the air feel and smell when it's cold? What's the first plant that might volunteer to grow in a bare spot? What little animals might you see, and what birds do you hear? What do people throw away that a tourist might pick up and keep? What food is readily available, that everyone knows how to make, and has the ingredients for on hand nearly always?

When you look as far to the east as you can see, what is the view? Turn around and look the other way, too.

Where you are is exotic to most of the rest of the world. Most other people will never see it. Knowing that your plainness is someone else's curiosity can make your life richer.

Sometimes, when you look, listen, taste, feel, smell, close your eyes and rest, remember that you are in one special place.

Creating Abundance, by Deb Lewis

or Your House as a Museum

photo by Oshan in Sri Lanka
(click it for a slightly wider view)

It must be learned and lived

Unschooling is not something people can wind up and let loose. It has to be learned and lived. And it has to be learned on the job, as it goes, so you can't wait until you're great at it to start.

—Sandra Dodd
Too boring to unschool?
at Always Learning

Read a little, try a little, wait a while, watch.
photo by Sandra Dodd, of museum robots

Shops, museums, and museum shops

Sometimes a shop can be like a museum.

Some museums have displays of shops (or things from shops, in the past).

Some museums have gift shops.

Even when you don't buy an object, you can still admire, inquire, or (maybe) photograph it to ask about or think about later.

Your House as a Museum
photo by Sandra Dodd

Stories and penguins

In some corner of your house, on some shelf, or windowsill, you might have a few items about which you could tell a story or two.

I saw the penguin above, and its accompanying rocks and another mystery thing in Bristol, at Alison's house. I didn't ask her to tell me about it. Now I wish I had. She told me many stories, and showed me places, and things.

Our internet is called RealPenguin, because of this fun kids' story, acted out by their dads: Salesman.

Little stories are parts of bigger lives.


SandraDodd.com/museum
photo by Sandra Dodd

Choices can abound

Choices can abound. Parents can arrange life so that their children have choices all the time, and learn to see their own actions as choices rather than "have to's," but none of them can give their children "the freedom" to do as they wish at MY house. Nor in a shop, nor a public place. Certainly not in a national park, or museum, or church. . . . .

Parents who tell their kids that they can give them "freedom" might be talking about the relative freedom of being out of school rather than in. Once they're in the normal real world, though, continuing to promise freedom isn't as helpful, nor as relationship building, as finding ways to give them choices.

Freedom/Choices/Empowerment/Respect
photo by Amber Ivey

Symbolism

An angel, holding an image of dice, in a church in Wales, in reference to a story about Roman soldiers near Jerusalem, long before that.

Light from the same sun.

Connections!

SandraDodd.com/connections
photo by Sandra Dodd, St. Teilo’s church at St. Fagans Museum

Safety and welcome

This gate was made for an open-air museum in The Netherlands, in a style that's called "wattle," in England. I like it.

I love gates, especially when you can see through them, but they keep children, animals and gardens safe. Though they might keep strangers out, they can welcome friends in!

I hope you have a gate or two you use, or see, or like, in your life.

Other gates
photo by Sandra Dodd

Museum tea

Have you ever been "museum sick"? Sometimes a museum is so large and overwhelming that my thought is "Do they have a good cafeteria? A cafe?"

This teabag was at the Escher Museum, in The Hague, when Joyce and I went to speak in 2013, and Rippy took us touristing


Photos are good for memories and ideas.

I miss museums, and I miss being able to travel and meet up with unschoolers.

I hope everyone who reads this will still, someday, get a chance to see so much museum that all you can think about is sitting down with some tea or food.

Museum Sickness
photo by Sandra Dodd