Out of order

The past few days have been glitchy, but I was calm, from years of practice.

Yesterday's post was lacking a link to something I think you might enjoy. My question and the beginning of the response are here, and it should link to the rest (but scroll up, there):

Sandra: why does freeze frame sound like the Ramones or Devo ChatGPT: If by "Freeze-Frame" you mean the 1981 hit by The J. Geils Band, I can hear why it might remind you of both Ramones and Devo, even though it isn't really either one. A few things overlap:...

If I had a graph of the order in which I've learned different kinds of music, it would seem glitchy, too. I'm still figuring out lots of things I missed while I was more involved in traditional music, English ballads, madrigals, and medieval and Renaissance Christmas music. Some of that was singular, or duets. Some was leading groups of people. Keith and I spent years immersed in the Society for Creative Anachronism, and weren't paying much attention to what was new and current.

Keith was in high school, listening to The J. Geils Band, The Doobie Brothers, Steppenwolf and Jethro Tull, while I was at the University of New Mexico, playing in the first iteration of their early music program (then called "The Keller Consort"). I listened to albums, but not much radio. I was "studying" Elton John, Cat Stevens, and Joni Mitchell.

Keith and I have been a couple for over 45 years and have done vocal and instrumental music together, and shared each others' old favorite music. He didn't know anything about Donovan, and I think he knew Paul McCartney and Wings better than he knew The Beatles. I couldn't tell Steely Dan from The Doobie Brothers.

It still works if things are learned out of order. When I was little, I could read music before I could read words. Music is in and around me.

I'm still curious, and I'm still learning.

SandraDodd.com/connections
photo by Holly Dodd

P.S. Keith still goes to SCA events and does music. I wandered off.

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

Playing as a game

I'm living without a piano these days, but this was true for years, mostly with Clementi, or Bach:

I have said that I play the piano like playing a video game. But what that means for me is that sometimes when I'm passing by the piano, I'll sit down with a piece of music I know fairly well and play it "until I die," which is the third mistake, just to see how far I can get. Or I'll play something harder and go until I'm just stuck, maybe go through that hard passage a few times, take a running leap at it, see how it goes, and then go back to doing whatever I was doing before. Laundry or whatever it was.

When I do that it feels like a timer, and a challenge, and a goof. It's an investment in keeping my fingers operational without "an hour of practice" or any of those thoughts. It's playing with the piano, more than playing the piano. It's a game. I don't have to.

—Sandra Dodd

SandraDodd.com/force
Image is the cover of a thin music book, published by Schirmer, 1967.

The magic of following passions

Ben Lovejoy wrote:

Although I don’t presume to know what magic occurs when one follows a life filled with passions, I know that magic does happen—with deep wells of reserve. And when we examine our respective histories with our children, we understand how much things change while seeing how much they stay the same.

Singing a song before saying “Mom” or “Dad” or watching our first live musical performance at the same age are two examples of things that Cameron and I have in common. The simplicity of those examples should not be misunderstood. Each small way we’re tied to our children adds to the tapestry that our respective lives weave. And when the story is shared with grandkids and their grandkids, it has the opportunity to become part of lives yet to be. The stories of our lives are the songs that we sing now so they can be shared later with those who intend to hear them—a truth that Bonnaroo embodies.

Bonnaroo was not the crossroad where Cameron’s and my shared love of music intersected, but it is where I realized how much music meant to us both. Our respective tastes in music have come full circle because now Cameron gives me advice on what music will make a difference to me just as I had done for him seven years ago. I am now the richer for that connection.

—Ben Lovejoy

Following Our Passions to Bonnaroo
SandraDodd.com/lovejoy/bonnaroo
photo by Karen James

Values

"Meredith Meredith" wrote:

If you value something, make it part of your life. If you value music, play music, listen to music, dance and sing. Invite the people you love to join you—maybe they will. If you value scientific thinking, think like a scientist. If you enjoy math, play with numbers and relationships. The catch is to live your own values without trying to foist them off on other people—because that's not a very good way of sharing what you love, and because personality matters. All your singing and dancing won't make your kids musicians if they're not so inclined—but they'll know a few things about music. If you push music at them, they may associate what they know with drudgery and unhappiness—and then you've failed and failed more utterly than if you never sang a note in their presence.

—Meredith Novak

Meredith
photo by Sandra Dodd, of Marty kid-art

Brain food

Pam Sorooshian wrote:

Human brains are voracious and will feed on whatever is available. Unschoolers should be offering interesting experiences, ideas, stimulation, music, logic, conversation, images, movement, discovery, beauty, etc. Brain food in abundance. It requires effort. It requires attention to qualitative and quantitative aspects of learning. Depth and breadth—creating a lifestyle in which kids are offered the opportunity to learn a lot about some things and a little about a lot of things.

—Pam Sorooshian

SandraDodd.com/learning
Thanks to Marta Venturini Machado for finding and sharing that quote.
photo by Meghan Pawlowski

Clear and free

There is quiet beauty somewhere near you. If it's hard to find, close your eyes and imagine some. Look at art, listen to music. Breathe a little more deeply, a little more slowly, and you'll be better for yourself and for those around you.

SandraDodd.com/breathing
photo by Irene Adams

Stories, music, light and movement

a mom named Lisa wrote:

There is plenty of value in TV/movies. It's as much of a dream world for kids as books (if not more). I know it can be frustrating when it's all new to you... I can't tell you how many times I wondered if I wasn't doing something horrible by letting my children watch as much TV as they wanted. I was sure it would backfire and that it would make my kids passive.

They're still lovely and beautiful and full of life....driven from the inside instead of following my lead so much.

Relax and enjoy the wonder of your child. 🙂

—Lisa

That's the end of something sweet, and longer, at SandraDodd.com/t/whatif

photos by Rosie Moon (stained glass)
and Kelly Halldorson (wood stove)

I brought these pictures to a TV post for being older versions of moving-light images. They are associated with stories, and with music, too. Television and film are related, culturally and historically.

When to say no

Sandra Dodd, response in 2000 to: Can anyone explain to me "unschooling"?

It's like "just say no."

Just say no to school years and school schedules and school expectations, school habits and fears and terminology. Just say no to separating the world into important and unimportant things, into separating knowledge into math, science, history and language arts, with music, art and "PE" set in their less important little places.

Most of unschooling has to happen inside the parents. They need to spend some time sorting out what is real from what is construct, and what occurs in nature from what only occurs in school (and then in the minds of those who were told school was real life, school was a kid's fulltime job, school was more important than anything, school would keep them from being ignorant, school would make them happy and rich and right).

It's what happens after all that school stuff is banished from your life.

Several Definitions of Unschooling
photo by Rosie Moon

Q&A—Agenda

Question:

Are we teaching anything or learning side by side or allowing them to self express?

Sandra:

Those aren't your only choices. They're learning, we're learning, we're all expressing ourselves, and when life is very rich and lush, learning grows like crazy.

Question:

Can you go into detail about the idea of making things available and having an agenda?

Sandra:

Is "making things available" a reference to dance and karate classes and social opportunities, or to toys and music and books and cash and games? We've tried to give our kids lots of access to people and places and things. The agenda was that they would learn and be happy.

SandraDodd.com/panel
photo by Cátia Maciel

Learning in all directions

Pam Sorooshian wrote:

Some kind of learning is happening all the time — but not all learning is good. Learning how to sneak food, learning that parents can't be trusted and counted on, learning to think of oneself in negative ways, all sad. Learning that life is boring, hard work, sucks, hurts, is unfair, also sad. Not what unschoolers are trying for.

Human brains are voracious and will feed on whatever is available. Unschoolers should be offering interesting experiences, ideas, stimulation, music, logic, conversation, images, movement, discovery, beauty, etc. Brain food in abundance. It requires effort. It requires attention to qualitative and quantitative aspects of learning. Depth and breadth — creating a lifestyle in which kids are offered the opportunity to learn a lot about some things and a little about a lot of things.

—Pam Sorooshian

SandraDodd.com/learning
photo by Colleen Prieto

Doing enough?

Are you doing enough? Are your kids looking at you expectantly, or are they busy off doing something fun? Have they seen the cool touristy stuff in your town already? "Field trip" kind of stuff? Do you let them do it at their own pace, and "quit early" if they want to? Do they have things to play with and build with and draw on and mess with? Do they have opportunities (if they want) to ride bikes, skateboards, climb something, jump on things? Are you looking for opportunities for them to hear live music or see theatre? If you feel like you're not doing enough, do more.

SandraDodd.com/mha (an obscure page)
photo by Rippy Dusseldorp

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

Dance around; save the world

Deb Lewis, once upon a time:

I wrote once before about how dish washing has come to be my mental health moment. I light a candle, I make some tea or pour a glass of wine, turn on some music, take off my shoes, and do just the dishes I want to do. I use dish soap that smells great—LOVE that hot water...sigh. I never start out feeling like I *have to* do *all* the dishes. I think how I want to have clean dishes and do however many I feel like doing. I dance around a little. I plan my garden. I save the world. It's never just about doing dishes.

—Deb Lewis

Feeling "taken advantage of"
mostly-unrelated photo by Deb Lewis

Sounding off

Patti Schmidt wrote:

It seems to me that "phonics" essentially serves the purpose of "teaching" a child to read before he's ready and fully grasps context and meaning. I know that I can read Spanish, which is a much more consistently phonetic language than English, complete with accent and everything, and literally not understand one bit of what I'm saying.

I remember being tested separately for "reading" and reading comprehension. If one can't understand the words and phrases, then isn't it just decoding with an internalized phonics decoder ring?

Turning script to sound is one trick, but the reading that people want will turn marks to meaning. The same way that musical notation (and a musician who can decipher and play or sing it) can bring music into the air, so can the written word becoming lively language again.

Patti discovered, as many unschooling parents have, that while some children appreciate phonics hints, or figure phonics out on their own, others learn to read in their own other ways.

More of Patti's story of children learning differently:
SandraDodd.com/r/patti
photo by Sandra Dodd

The photo was taken of the insde of a church door in Durham, in England. "The draught is dreadful" cannot be read easily with American phonics (or sight reading, or look-say). But it's cute, and it's alliterative, which is an ancient tradition in the English language, and in the naming of the alter-egos of comic-book super heroes.

Learning with and from kids

from a set of questions going around in 2009:

Question:

What ways have you found to continue your own learning? What kinds of things have you gotten interested in since having kids?

Sandra Dodd's response:

My kids have introduced me to music, movies, games and humor I wouldn't have known otherwise. It's been wonderful. Kirby moved nearly two years ago, but he still sends me recommendations for things to see and hear. I've met lots of unschoolers and their children, and corresponded with 20 times as many; from them I've learned more and more about unschooling.

SandraDodd.com/learning
photo by Janine Davies
(or a camera in a theatre lobby)

---

I tagged it "costumes", but it was a board with cutouts for them to stick their faces in, so... not sure how to tag it. I first learned about the musical "Cats" from Roxana Sorooshian, and then Holly Dodd, different aspects.

False positives

Cynicism feels like intelligence.
Pessimism can feel like energy conservation. Eeyore never jumps up and runs. Eeyore never bothers to plan ahead.

When people are very cynical, they seem to think that if all the things they think are stupid are eliminated, what's left will be non-stupid. Smartness. Cleverness. Art. Good music. But once so many things are eliminated, what's left is a cynical person who has rejected half the world, and has the memories of all the details of that negativity.

SandraDodd.com/cynicism
photo by Brie Jontry

History, music and enthusiasm

This was written about the Dodd kids and their questions about U.S. Presidents, in 2003. Click the link at the bottom for what came before and after this passage:

---

Holly (11) got the book to see if it could be a simple truth that some presidents had only been half-page presidents.

"FDR. Is he the guy in Annie?"

"Yes." (Holly's favorite historical period is the Great Depression. She likes the music, the clothes, and the stories of hardship and social change.)

"This guy looks like he's from Texas."

"Lyndon Johnson was the only one really from Texas," I said, and then muttered a bit about George Bush Sr. and trailed off saying I guess maybe George W. might be an actual Texan. Holly wasn't listening anymore. She was looking at a cartoon illustration of Theodore Roosevelt. He's the one she had thought looked like a Texan, from the picture. I checked the fine print for her.

"Oh! Born in New York City, but he was into horses and such."

... and it continues at SandraDodd.com/day/presidents
(standard publicity still from 1982 "Annie")

A grid over which to lay other things

If someone knew almost nothing in the world but trivia relating to popular music for the past 100 years, that would make a HELL of a good grid over which to lay other things. And I don't think a thorough knowledge of pop music (in any culture or language) over this particular past hundred years, which saw the proliferation of recorded music available in homes, the advent of radio broadcasts, movies with music, television variety shows, transistor radios, cassette players in cars, CDs, iPods and cell phones that store a ton of music could help but create a timeline of the culture. Wouldn't songs from Marx Brothers or Fred Astaire movies remind people of The Great Depression? Can anyone hear big-band swing music and not also think of the hairdos and costumes? Does "Boogie-Woogie Bugle Boy" not remind anyone of WWII? Knowing some of the context of Gene Autrey and Roy Rogers brings up LOTS of stories about where those songs were first heard.

The lyrics of some of the songs make specific mention of historical events, and that could help dating things, too, if a person were trying to figure out what came first.

Any hobby delved into deeply becomes another portal to the whole world—real and imagined; past, present and future.

"Trivial" connections are real
video from Young Frankenstein, 1974
Directed by Mel Brooks
Written (in part) by, and starring, Gene Wilder

Mixtures, swirls and solutions

"Yesterday" in 2004:

I still see "subject areas" everywhere, but I haven't taught those categories and prejudices to my children. Science has much more to do with history than geology has to do with microbiology, but in school geology, biology, astronomy and physics are all "the same thing," and history is different altogether. Yet the best parts of history involve the knowledge cultures had and how they put it to use, whether in shipbuilding or iron tool use, medicine or communications.

Holly asked yesterday about when people discovered the world wasn't flat. I told her there was no one date or century because people discovered different things at different times, and some were shushed up when they said the world was round, or that the sun didn't orbit around the earth. I also told her, "Ask your dad, because he's really interested in the history of science."

I noticed when I said it that I had "named subject areas," but I didn't feel too bad. She's twelve, and reading, and after all "the history of science" was never part of my schooling. A science teacher wasn't certified to teach me history, and vice versa. Only outside of school did I figure out that scientific discoveries were history, and that music was science, and that art was history.

SandraDodd.com/schoolinmyhead
photo by Kelly Halldorson