"Playing computer"

When someone wrote "I do worry about my boys playing computer all day," I responded:

I have three kids who have played hundreds of games among and between them—Holly learned two new card games just this month that nobody else in the family knows, even her dad who has been a big games guy all his life. There is no game called "computer." I think you mean playing ON the computer. HUGE difference.

We have dozens of nice board games here, and table games (games involving cards or other pieces, to be laid out on a table as play proceeds), but those aren't referred to as kids playing board, or kids playing table. The computer is not itself the game. There are games on the computer. There is information on the computer. It's not really a net. It's not really a web. It's millions of ideas, words, jokes, pictures, games, a ton of music and videos and.... But you know that, right?

Clarity can begin with being careful with the words you use. Thinking about what you write will help you think about what you think!!

Sandra

(halfway down this brief page)

Thanks to Marcia Simonds for sharing that quote years back.
photo by Sandra Dodd, of my kids
playing Zoombinis in 1999

"I feel it in my fingers..."

Karen James, on math:

I took the leap and we began homeschooling, with me trusting that like walking, talking, reading, writing, and all the other things he had managed to learn through his play and exploration and with our active support, he would come to have a meaningful understanding of math too. When I came to a greater understanding of unschooling, I suspected we had not made a error in judgement. As I have watched Ethan's relationship with math grow and deepen, I knew we had not.

What I didn't realize when I was worrying about how to bring math to Ethan, was that Ethan had already found math. He found it on his fingers. He found it in the seeds of an apple I had cut open. He found it in the peas spread over the tray on his high chair. He found it in every repeated drop of his cup or spoon. He found it in the music we listened to. He found it in the timing between jumps on his jolly jumper. He found it in the balance he needed to take the next step. He found it in the distance between steps. It was everywhere already, and he was already finding the art in it. I just needed to stop my worrying and start having fun.

So I have.

—Karen James

SandraDodd.com/math/found
photo by Belinda Dutch

The title isn't from the quote, it's from a 1967 Troggs song.


In 2023, Ethan James is newly grown up and working at a video game company, at least for a while.

Lyrical magic...

Nurture your own curiosity and amazement. Let life be marvelous. Let nature and music be bigger than you are, and find gratitude in being able to be in the presence of the lyrical magic of the everyday world.

What will help wonder return to you? Pay closer attention to young children. See what they're seeing. Think about what they're asking. Wonder at what they wonder.


SandraDodd.com/wonder
(quote from 279 or 322 of Big Book of Unschooling)
photo by Sarah S.

Zippy, slow, zippy...

If your child is having a slow week or month or year, don't worry. If your child is having a zippy brilliant period of life where everything's coming up roses and the backswell of music seems always to accompany his glorious exploits, don't expect that to last day in and day out for sixty years. It won't. It can't. It shouldn't. People need to recuperate from stunning performances.

Life is lumpy; let it be.

SandraDodd.com/learningcurve
photo by Jo Isaac

Simple but gigantic

One of the best first steps a family can take toward moving a giant step toward being more positive is to note and back off about anyone or anything they've called "dumb" or "stupid."

It's simple but gigantic.

If things (music, ideas, jokes) are allowed the dignity of being potentially accepted as perhaps good in someone's estimation, lights come on all over that world.

Sandra, on Always Learning, in 2008
photo by Holly Dodd

Compassion for passions

Kelly Lovejoy, on the thoughts that help parents to deschool:

What are your passions? HOW did you learn to do those things? In a classroom?

Two of my passions as a child were dogs and horses. Dogs and horses are NOT taught in any grade, middle, or high school *I* know of. But I wanted to learn everything I could about them. My parents gave me dogs and horses. They bought me books and paid for me to take riding lessons and dog obedience classes. They paid for dog and horse shows and equipment. My passion threw me into reading every book I could find (there were no videos back then—nor "Animal Planet").

By twelve I could identify every breed of dog and horse that I had ever seen or read about and tell you how it was developed, where, why, and by whom. I spent every weekend and every afternoon at a dog show/horse show/event/trial or just hanging around the stable or kennel. I asked thousands of questions and "got my hands dirty." Many of my friends were adults with the same passions. Training, breeding, grooming, showing, husbandry—all of these things I learned because I was consumed by them!

But, of course, dogs and horses are NOT school subjects—and are completely unimportant in the school world. What if I had waited for a teacher to come along and say, "Today we are learning all about dog and horses"? Not only would I have waited all my life, the teacher would only have given me a "taste" of the subject!

OH! And you *can't* make a living with dogs and horses—right?

Stage one is often referred to as DEschooling. It's the period of time we need to give ourselves in order to "step away from the box" of school and school-think. Ask yourself why and how you learned your passion: whether it was music, cooking, flying, gardening, or long-distance running. Or even more "academic-like" passions, like Shakespeare, chemistry, World War II, or a foreign language. When you are comfortable with how learning happens by indulging in passions and making connections in your learning, you are quickly heading towards stage two.

—Kelly Lovejoy

from "Stages of Unschooling"
SandraDodd.com/kellylovejoy/stages
photo by Cathy Koetsier

"Mindset"

"Mindset" is an odd word, and not an old one.

If I've been listening to, talking about, singing or playing music for a few hours or days, I think in music more than usual.

When a long conversation about politics occurs, I might dream about those things. My brain needs to shake itself loose and re-set.

Twice this week I have played a card game called "Blink" with young grandkids, two different sets of them. With no numerals or words, cards are played to match by number, color, or shape.

When I was looking for a photo for Just Add Light, I saw this one and thought One; black; bird. Round; red.

It reminded me sweetly of four children who are, this week, five, four, three and two years old.

If mindsets can be affected and changed, try to lean toward music and laughter when you have the option.

SandraDodd.com/positivity
photo by Sandra Dodd

Joyfully detoxing

Paula L / "Paulapalooza" wrote:

Okay, not all days will leave us feeling as if we are Julie Andrews spinning around on that mountain top singing "The Sound of Music," but so many of my days leave me with just that feeling. . . . .

I WILL NOT GIVE UP THIS KIND OF LIFE. 😊

You know, I spent a good 30 of my 35 years in some type of structured setting, striving to please others and live up to their standards, which I convinced myself were my own. I feel that I will be detoxing from this for the rest of my life, and it's a joyful process. Living outside the box makes me a person at peace, a person people constantly observe as "always so happy." I used to be very good at "blooming where I was planted," which was of course not true happiness, and the strain inevitably showed. I am finally happy on my own terms, and the difference is obvious to me.

—Paula L

A happy free day!
photo by Vlad Gurdiga

Also by Paula L, beautiful, but I cannot match a photo to it:
A Day of Wonder
It's sweet and poetic; please read it.

Portals to this and that

Yesterday's post had a song to listen to, if you clicked through to the blog. It didn't show in e-mail. Check again, if you missed it, if you like songs. This one is from late 1967. Some of you were not born yet, but I was 14 years old—a great age to appreciate new 60s music. Another link to What You Can't See, from yesterday.
As I worked on updating and stabilizing pages here and on my website, I started marking those I felt were sufficient, for now, for use from phones and computers both. At first I was using a big asterisk, but when I linked a page on facebook or somewhere, a grey scary asterisk showed as the first image, and that's no good, so I went with __
a little line.
On blogposts, they're centered below the photo credit. On webpages, they're in the upper right corner (or left, if the upper right was occupied).

THOSE ARE LINKS!

From Just Add Light and Stir, on older posts, if you see one of those lines it probably goes to a second webpage that's also applicable—maybe one that didn't yet exist when the post was new. Sometimes they go to a different blog day that's a good match.

At SandraDodd.com, they link to posts at Just Add Light and Stir that link to or quote that page, usually. So those go back and forth between the blog and site, usually.

If you find one that doesn't go anywhere, let me know and I can put something in. There might be ten or a dozen that are blank, because at first I thought it would be just a mark for my own use.

Entertaining mysteries are better than irritating blank mysteries.

Have fun, if you see any of those unmarked portals.


Unschooling Site News, SandraDodd.com
photos by me (the sign) and Hema Bharadwaj (of me in 2010 posing with a zoo's... I don't know what those are called, when you stick your head in something for a photo)

Beauty and usefulness

The world isn't sorted into serious and funny, or beautiful and dull. Things are often quite mixed up, and changing with the moment, and the light, and the seasons. New things get old.

Some radio stations (which aren't as vital as they once were) play songs that are sixty years old, or more. A hundred years ago, 1920 provided the first public radio broadcasts of a news program (in Detroit, Michigan). A college radio station aired music, a sporting event and concerts (Schenectedy, New York). An opera was broadcast for the twenty radios that could receive it (August 2020, Buenos Aries, Argentina).

Our receipt of sound is more varied now, and we can bring in humor, debate, tragedy, and re-reuns of those things from earlier times. Text and images have been added. We have more choices than we have time to choose them, these days.

Look for beauty and usefulness. Choose joy and uplift, from the river of output that pours around us.

SandraDodd.com/emotion
photo by Sandra Dodd, in Liverpool one time

Stories of radio in 1920, which I looked up not knowing I really was writing this 100 years after initial public broadcasts, came from Wikipedia's History of Radio page. Good coincidence, for 2020. We are living in the flow of history.__

Imaginary advisors

Sandra Dodd, on stored internal messages:

I think of whose voices I've let speak back to me when I'm wondering what to do, what cartoonish characters are in the peanut gallery of my conscience. I have Mr. Jamison who was the best voice coach I ever had. That's when I'm singing, or sometimes when I'm getting gushy about certain kinds of music and a voice (Sam Jamison's) says it's pap. I don't always agree with him, but I wrestle his opinion lots of times when I don't expect to need to.

I have lots of former best friends, neighbors, teachers, relatives. Some have to sit in the dark back rows, and I don't listen to them as much as I once did because I decided their advice was bad. Some are totally situational (music, or money, or cooking). Some are more about philosophy and ethics and compassion, so they sit up in front with the light on them more often.

I don't mind being one of the council of imaginary advisors anyone has. I just hope they'll listen to lots of voices and not follow any of them without really thinking about it or understanding why.

Use your words (with a great comment)
photo by Sandra Dodd

Attractions and fears

[Warnings can become attractions.]

It seems what will cause a kid to watch a show he doesn't want to watch is parental disapproval. If he's been told it's too scary, too adult, or forbidden, his natural curiosity might cause him to want to learn WHY. My kids, with the freedom to turn things on or off, turned LOTS of things off, or colored or did Lego or played with dolls or action figures during "the boring parts" (often happening to be the adult parts—what did they care?) and only looked back up when happy music or light or dogs or kids got their attention again.

SandraDodd.com/t/whatif
photo by Alex Polikowsky

Learning by osmosis

A cranky person once wrote to me:

I do unschool but I obviously do not subscribe to your radical view of unschooling where children are expected to learn by osmosis and television shows.

To the Always Learning discussion list I wrote:

When the environment is rich, children learn by osmosis, if the membrane through which ideas pass is their perception of the world. What they see, hear, smell, taste, touch and think becomes a part of their experience, and they learn. And they learn from television shows, movies, paintings, books, plants, toys, games, movement, sports, dancing, singing, hearing music, drawing, sleeping.... as if by osmosis, they live and they learn.

"Osmosis and Television Shows"
photo by Janine Davies

Life as Show-and-Tell

People with collections have collections of stories. Objects have origins, and connections. If you ask people about their things, they will tell you stories about themselves.

Most people think of "exploring" as going to new places, but exploring ideas, music, foods, games and each other's experiences and stories, within a family or group of friends, creates an environment of learning.

The first paragraph is new today.
The second paragraph is here.
photo by Sandra Dodd

With and for, not against

Parents who say anything is stupid (laws, art, music) are working against their child's peace and learning, not with and for it.

Living in the Real World
photo by Brie Jontry

Imagining

Take this lightly. Play around.

Play with words, with ideas, with thoughts.
Play with music.
Play in the rain.
Play in the dark.
Play with your food.

But play safely. Play is only play when no one involved is objecting. It's only playing if everyone is playing.

Pretending, with a barn swallow's nest
SandraDodd.com/playing
photo by Sandra Dodd

Dance, sing, listen, play

Learning about music can be as happy as dancing in the back yard, singing in the car, or going to watch a bluegrass band at a street festival. Listen to different oldies stations. Play with online song sites. Rent videos of concerts or operas and musical theatre. Don't "make" anyone watch them. Watch them yourself, and others might come to join.

page 83 (or 92) of The Big Book of Unschooling
photo by Cátia Maciel

Helping as a good partner

Joanna Murphy wrote:

Think of yourself as creating a partnership with your son. See your son as whole and healthy and desirous of being in a state of rest and vibrancy but maybe just not knowing at this moment how to get there on his own.

If he's not able to make certain decisions for himself yet (like reading his tired signals), then you can be the part of the team that can make that decision and explain it to the other half—it's not him or you—it's both of you working together to make a healthy and happy child.

This is the moment when his bed is made, the lights are low, the music is on (or whatever he has identified as aids to his sleep). Your certainty about what he's needing at that moment (sleep), combined with the quality of the connection and trust you have with him will determine what will happen next.


Original on Always Learning
(I added some paragraph breaks for today.)
photo by Cátia Maciel

Depth and breadth

Pam Sorooshian wrote:

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

at Always Learning; quote revived by Marta Venturini
photo by Roya Dedeaux

Music as healing

[T]his little ukulele has done for me what none of the stuff that I did as a child ever did, nor what my ranting and raving about my school experiences did. It has let me see how much I enjoy making music. And I enjoy the intellectual pursuit of the skill of making music. ...

So that's part of how I heal from school damage. I enjoy my life doing things that I couldn't do through school.

—Schuyler Waynforth

The quote is part of longer writing about school and music
photo by Sandra Dodd (of Schuyler, with a different ukelele)