Replacing Fear withTrust

I finished Dayna Martin's book, Radical Unschooling: A Revolution Has Begun, this afternoon. It only took me three days to read, and I passed it on to my husband. Now I have begun to re-read Suzie Andres' A Little Way of Homeschooling: Thirteen Families Discover Catholic Unschooling. Dayna speaks of her spirituality in her book but does not mention practicing a particular religion. Yet there is a common theme running through both books, which is that of trust.  Fear of the future is something Dayna has observed in parents, and it paralyzes them from being authentic and living in the present. And of course Jesus teaches complete trust in him.

In the Al-Anon 12 Step program, FEAR is the acronym for False Evidence Appearing Real.  What assumptions do we make about education, about children and parenting, based on the mainstream ideas embedded in our culture and with which most of us grew up? The traditional model is authoritarian, revolving around obedience and punishment. Dayna Martin insists that punishment of children is never necessary. Never. That thought alone is mind-blowing.

The mother of a teenage girl recently told me that her daughter struggles in school with algebra. It's the only subject in which she does not receive an A.  So is she failing this class? No, she is getting a B.  Heaven forbid! I have heard many similar stories. The pressure on kids to be perfect is fierce. And since we are trained in school and by mainstream parenting to derive our self-worth from the rewards and punishments of others, many adults never become autonomous, never learn to think for themselves, and forever depend upon the approval of someone else. When that is the case, the logical conclusion is that we fail to put our trust in God and to rely on his guidance alone. We can't believe in ourselves, either. We are perpetually crushed by the guilt of not measuring up to others' expectations, by the fear of making a mistake. Guilty simply for trying to be ourselves, the people God created us to be. The noise is so loud we can barely hear the voice of Divine Love calling us home.

Everything must be measured in mainstream thinking. When I worked as an esthetician at a day spa, there were "secret shoppers" who came in as customers and evaluated us. We did not get paid for that service unless the secret shopper granted a score of 100%!  I thought this was an unfair practice, and I told my manager as much. When I was secretly shopped, I got a perfect score. This was because I gave my best to every customer, out of internal motivation. The employees of this salon were not trusted to do their jobs well. If the motivation of the fear of being secretly shopped and punished for not measuring up really worked, then everyone would get a 100%, but they didn't.

Not being trusted is as insulting to children as it is to adults, because children are as fully persons as grown ups are. When people close to me did not trust me to be a good homeschooling parent, I was devastated. I was still relying on others for approval, and they were still functioning under an authoritarian mindset. If people are older, they think they know better, even when you grow up and have gray hair. They were never trusted, and so they can't trust you. No wonder society is so dysfunctional!

Fear, intimidation, coercion, and punishment don't work with children, and they don't work with adults. These tactics create power struggles, rebellion, and the killing of the human spirit. Dayna Martin, Suzie Andres, and other unschooling trailblazers are forging a better way, a path to joyful living and secure families. I don't agree with every position radical unschoolers take, nor do I think Dayna would expect anyone to.  She advocates following your own intuition, respecting the differences and uniqueness of others. She preaches authenticity and peace. Isn't this exactly what our suffering world needs?

Unschooling Red Flag

I'd rather have dentures than horrible memories of a parent forcing me to brush my teeth. 

I found this quote in an online article, "Beginning Unschooling: Some Ideas"(sandradodd.com/beginning).  I think if I spent any time directly commenting on this, it would be giving the sentiment a certain validation, so I will not.  It stands on its own to illustrate my concerns about adopting the term unschooling. I realize that not all forms of unschooling are so radical, but the unfortunate truth is that people who think such things are out there, and this is the impression many people have of what unschooling is all about. That Sandra Dodd, a leading name in unschooling, allowed this idea onto her page says "red flag" to me.

An underlying part of the unschooling philosophy is that children know what they need. Sometimes they do. We have all heard a child say, "I need to go to the potty." We have also all known a child so tired she could barely stand, who would not admit needing to go to bed. As an adult there have been more times than I want to remember when I didn't know what I needed or how to find what I needed. It would be inexcusable neglect not to directly guide a child toward what he needs, in fact, to insist upon it  (like taking him to the bathroom sink to brush his teeth!--ok, I couldn't resist after all...).

Which brings me to the whole teaching question. I have a book by John Holt called Teach Your Own. Clearly Holt was not against teaching if he used the word "teach" in the title of his book in this way. I may be going out on a limb here, but from the three books by Holt I have read, I do not believe that he would discourage any parent from showing a child how to brush his teeth properly and then following through to make sure it became a good habit, two to three times a day. My husband pointed out that radical unschooling is the flip side of the one-size-fits-all, authoritarian school model. In the case of radical unschooling, all children are still treated exactly the same, as if they were not individuals with varying needs.

What Holt advocated was that adults closely observe children to know them extremely well and therefore be able to determine how best to help them thrive. He emphasized guidance and facilitation as the chief methods of teaching, setting a good example for children to follow, and allowing as much self-directed learning as is reasonably possible. He was not even entirely against using some traditional schooling methods in those cases where they worked well for the child. He did not, however, establish a clear, systematic method of education. He used homeschooling and unschooling interchangeably and did not advocate any particular method, aside from teaching children in a way that corresponds with how they naturally learn. I think we can see the potential problem here. Unlike Montessori and Charlotte Mason, with their clearly formulated philosophies and practices, unschooling based on John Holt can easily result in muddied water.

So if I add the foundation of the Catholic faith to my unschooling, would the water then be clear? Maybe. After reading Suzie Andres' books, I think the water is certainly much less grainy. Still, after getting through the thirteen essays in A Little Way of Homeschooling, I was left with an unsatisfyingly vague impression of how this works. I enjoyed reading the stories of these unschooling families, and perhaps I should read the book again and see if it sinks in a little better. All of these parents were very active in the education of their children and did not strike me as "radical".  Interestingly, the essays of those who employed other methods in tandem with their unschooling did not seem much different in substance from those who were supposedly "pure" unschoolers, leading me to believe that what we really have here in some cases is a form of relaxed homeschooling, which overlaps in some places with unschooling.

What disturbs me is that there are those Catholics who call themselves radical unschoolers, which in my opinion is a contradiction in terms. Radical unschooling is diametrically opposed to the Church's teachings on the education of children, and I certainly do not want to be identified with such parents. I imagine this is Holly Pierlot's concern with Catholics using the label of unschooling as well. For those who like this term and have clearly delineated what it does and does not mean for themselves, it is certainly not my place to say that they should not use it. I think that the purest definition of unschooling, the one that Holt intended, is simply learning in an open source manner, without the traditional school building and the methods employed therein which do not reflect how children naturally learn. Many forms of homeschooling could rightly be called unschooling!

Unfortunately, though, some took unschooling for a ride on a runaway train, and their children are the derailed victims. Because of the seriousness of the implications of the "radical" approach, I have deep misgivings about adopting the word, even with putting Catholic in front of it, and even if I know without confusion what I mean by it. The jury is still out, but it would be irresponsible of me not to seriously consider these red flags. I do believe that the Holy Spirit is guiding me in a new direction, and that some of the tenets attributed to unschooling are useful and inspiring; but perhaps in the end I will be the fish that notices the nice bait, but also the hook, and swims on by to find more enriching fare.

Easing into the Little Way of Unschooling

I am currently reading Homeschooling with Gentleness: A Catholic Discovers Unschooling by Suzie Andres. I am mostly convinced that Catholics can, in good conscience, unschool. But doing this is harder said than done. Our lesson time started out well today. Beezy finished a chapter in her Ginn reader and enjoyed the story. Then she completed her Hail Mary copy work just fine. I read the end of a novel to her, The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Ship of Her Own Making, which by the way was quite good. I took a shower and got myself together while Beezy worked on her room, straightening up her things throughout the house, and putting stuff where it belongs.

Beezy did a math workbook page. Then came her piano theory homework, and I started to get impatient trying to keep her on task. Her teacher recommends only 15 minutes of practice a day, and I didn't want to run over, so I felt pressured (by myself, really) to hurry her along. We ended up spending 20 minutes on it. Is this really an issue? Why not just do the work until it seems that she is ready to be done, whether that takes 10 minutes or half an hour? I forgot to follow the child. Sorry, Maria Montessori!

While we were doing the piano homework, my husband came along and said a library book could not be renewed, so then I felt pressured to get the book read and narrated, even though what I said to him is that we did not have to rush to get it back. We have teacher library cards, which means that we don't accumulate fines on overdue books. Surely the person requesting, Don't Ride the Bus on Monday could wait a day or two? But against my own wisdom, I read this wonderful Rosa Parks story and enjoyed it less than I might have if I had picked it up when I felt more relaxed. Beezy would most likely have enjoyed it better too. She was noticeably fidgety at this time, so I sent her out to walk the dog in the middle of the book. When it was finished, she gave a creative narration that reminded me of a "spoken word" poem. She got a little carried away at the end, but I resisted my urge to tell her not to be so silly during her narration. I also did not use my plan book or check anything off. So plus points given for Mommio, and other points taken away! I know, progress, not perfection.