How we lived was completely unrelated to school and no longer in reaction to school, once I'd gotten a good grasp of unschooling.
or
at Always Learning
extended Sorooshians, years after that writing;
photographer unidentified
"What does unschooling look like at this age?"
Clare Kirkpatrick wrote:
It looks like it does at any age: fun and connection. Do what is fun for them. If you're also working on better connection with them, a closer relationship with them, you'll also start to learn what they may find fun that they don't yet know about. Also do what is fun for you. Learning to help yourself to do fun things will help you realise that your children's learning and richness of life will come from helping them to do things they find fun.At the moment in my house, I am having fun thinking hard about unschooling. My husband and my 12 year old are having fun and connecting with each other by playing Call of Duty together. I have helped my 6 and 8 year olds by making some space for them to build a little home for their polly pocket dolls out of wooden blocks and they are now having fun working on that and playing together. My 10 year old is having fun watching Mako Mermaids on Netflix and occasionally turning round to watch her sister and dad playing and ask questions about the game. Actually, while I've been writing that, the six year old has now snuggled next to my 12 year old to join in the chat about the game. Connection and fun. And, therefore, learning.
—Clare Kirkpatrick
https://sandradodd.com/clare.html#fun
photo: selfie by Sven, the dad
When I'm reading a book, I decide by the moment whether to keep reading or to stop.
Even writing this post, I could easily click out of it and not finish, or I could finish it and decide not to post it. Choices, choices, choices.
Each day for a year, could you add one minute to the time you spend with a child? Any child. One extra minute. If you can infuse that moment with love or compassion, bonus!
I suppose that would be a minute you could be doing something else, but I doubt it would be something better.
It takes only a moment to turn what you describe as rubble into a series of activities, of joyous moments. They are still-lifes waiting to be interpreted. I can see the shadow of her sitting there and doing and making and talking and turning to Simon to show him or running to fly the plane she made in the hallway to see if it would fly well enough to engage whichever kitten it was designed to amuse, or calling to me to come and interpret whichever fold the origami book was describing onto the paper she was folding.
It isn't rubble, it is her life.