Getting Beyond Unschooling

I also think it would be a mistake to equate unschooling with never doing anything resembling school. Home educated kids do many of the same things done in schools--learn to play a musical instrument, watch videos, create art, read books, compose poetry, make things out of wood, play games and sports, write, ask questions, share their opinion, solve math problems, cook--the list goes on. The difference is that as home educators we can create our most authentic life possible and learn on our own terms, in our own way, in our own time. We can put God and family before academics. We have a myriad of choices, but if we close our minds to any "schooly" methods or materials, we have effectively blocked the path to open source learning.    --  Rita Michele


Why am I quoting myself today? This is a comment I made at the Whole Life Unschooling FB group. A mother is interested in unschooling but doesn't have her husband's support. She was wondering if she could combine homeschooling and unschooling in order to appease her husband but still give her children the benefits of unschooling. Surprisingly, many members responded in the affirmative. 

Group moderator and high profile unschooling advocate Dayna Martin seemed a bit unnerved by this, perhaps because by the murky parameters of its definition, unschooling cannot be done "part-time". Naturally she thinks the ideal is radical unschooling, but she conceded that a combination of traditional homeschooling with unschooling would be better than subscribing entirely to the mainstream. She shared that her kids learn by exploring their interests and passions without engaging in anything at all "schooly", but she also supported the mother doing whatever she wanted or needed to do. She indicated that curriculum materials and structure are fine if the child wants them. However, "forcing" those things, as the dogma goes, would surely be gravely detrimental. 

To her credit, Dayna aims at a nonjudgmental, balanced response, and I am not criticizing her personally. I am intending to show the difficulty in navigating this whole issue and am suggesting making a concerted effort to get beyond it.

Obviously, with my endeavor of implementing what I find to be good in the French lifestyle and way of parenting, I am leaning more toward the importance of consistent routines so that our lives have a framework upon which to authentically grow and bloom. I am thinking of a wooden, arched trellis that was once in my yard. White roses and purple clematis would climb the trellis and be displayed in all of their glory. When strong winds damaged this structure and we had to pull it down, the flowers didn't thrive. They needed to be able to reach a higher place to get enough sun and have a sturdy foundation upon which to stretch out and take shape. How's that for an extended metaphor?

In the extremes of radical unschooling there is a tendency to reject any methods or materials that even remotely resemble school or so-called "authoritarian" parenting. As a home educator, I feel inhibited by such a mindset. I feel like my hands are tied, because we wouldn't want to put limits on our children. We must give them total and absolute freedom in all choices, in every area of life. At the risk of beating a dead horse, this is not only in opposition to the Christian parental vocation, it's simply nonsensical and irresponsible. How can one parent with confidence while being told that he or she is merely a partner and facilitator in learning and life, rather than the primary educator, as the Church teaches?

We have seen the ugly truth of what befalls our society which increasingly rejects its historical traditions. Families, churches, marriages, job security, morals, ethics, values, education, and physical and mental health have all progressively weakened. Sure, there is such a thing as too much structure. I just heard today that children have 50% less free time than they did a generation ago. They are over-scheduled and over-stimulated. As home educators, we have more control over our time and what fills our days and our children's minds, hearts, and souls. Why would we want to abdicate our God-given parental authority? Here is our chance to direct the vine toward the sun and behold the explosion of Beauty. 

Sensible Food Habits from the French

Today after not finishing her lunch, Beezy asked if she could have ice cream. I thought it a good time to fill her in on my new plan for establishing better eating habits. I have written about the French approach to meals before, and for awhile I followed it. But bad habits die hard, and I had never actually shared with my daughter why I wanted to change the way we eat. In addition, I think I had made an effort to improve my own habits, but I hadn't completely followed through with her.

Basically, the French eat three meals a day, plus a 4:00 snack called the goute. It depends on the source as to which meal is largest. Breakfast my be just a tartine (baguette with butter and jam or some other topping) and coffee, or may be more substantial, but it is never skipped. Bread and cheese are usually part of lunch and dinner, and dinner has at least three courses. I think the last meal of the day is usually a little later in France, around 7:30 to 8:00, and dessert is traditionally served. Families sit down to eat dinner together, and just to emphasize the point, there is no snacking between these designated meals times.

After I told Beezy at lunch that she wouldn't be eating again until the 4:00 snack, she was willing to finish her soup (she had eaten a clementine orange and only half her soup), plus a peanut butter and jelly sandwich made with French bread left over from last night's dinner. For our goute, we had homemade banana bread. Beezy assisted by mashing the bananas and cracking and wisking the eggs. Perhaps after having a later dinner, she will not need her usual bedtime snack.

Now, radical unschoolers will let their children decide what, when, and how much they eat. They won't require them to sit at table with their family for meals. Children don't need structure, schedules, or consistency, they assert. While unschoolers are fond of criticizing "mainstream" parenting, in many ways American parents in general are becoming more and more like unschoolers. Of course, each family has its own way of doing things, and the above comments are not true for unschoolers across the board. Some only unschool in the area of education, and I discussed some thoughts about that aspect yesterday. By and large, if unschooling philosophy is applied to all areas of life, then the statements made above about radical unschoolers are generally true.

Interestingly, the formation of these eating habits would certainly be considered part of a child's education in France, right along with learning how to be respectful, polite, and obedient to parents. Correcting a child's behavior is not considered discipline, as we would call it in America. It is called education, which is not the same thing as schooling. We'll talk more about that down the road. What I like about the French idea of education is that parents are responsible for teaching children how to interact properly with others. They firmly and immediately nip disobedience and misbehavior in the bud, beginning with toddlers. The authority of French parents is established early on and consistently maintained. They are in control of the development of good life habits in their children. The more I think about it, the more the unschooling idea of children "self-regulating" is bizarre, untrue, and dangerous.

Once a meal schedule is established, a framework will be put in place for a daily routine that other activities can be worked into. Schedules can be flexible and need not be planned down to every 15 minute segment of the day, but having a general structure to our daily round has many benefits, which I will continue to explore. How we eat effects every other area of life. Isn't it worth getting it right?

Undoing Unschooling

I spent a considerable amount of time looking on the internet yesterday for information regarding how to detox from unschooling. I found next to nothing, no matter what key words I employed. Naturally there is a lot of information out there about how to "deschool" and "deprogram" from the effects of institutionalized education. Parents find that they have to deeply question their notions about what education means when they begin to homeschool, and if children have been pulled from the school system, they need time to decompress and to figure out what their interests are and what to do with their time. All of that makes sense.

But what if you need to undo the effects of unschooling? In many ways I have followed unschooling principles in my parenting, even before I actively researched this philosophy and purposefully worked it into our household. I was attracted to the promise of increased joy and creativity, a more relaxed and natural way of living. Ironically, this led me to an interest in the French concept of la joie de vivre, finding deeper meaning through living with more formality, elegance, and passion. Between the French lifestyle and becoming Catholic, I found myself longing for tradition, which is not something often advocated in the unschooling world.

So I am now onto ideas gleaned from French parenting. One hot button topic in unschooling is "food freedom". Children know when they are hungry and what their bodies need, so they should be allowed free choice concerning when and what to eat. French children, on the contrary, eat what is put before them. There is no snacking save at 4:00 p.m., similar to the English tea time. Families eat at table together, and there isn't a separate category of kid foods, like we have in America. Children aren't forced to eat everything on their plates, but they must try what has been prepared. Since French people don't graze all day, they are actually hungry at meal times. Including the children. And so they eat what is on their plates! Simple as that. Why is this so hard for us?

Just now, having not even eaten breakfast yet, my daughter began to open a piece of chocolate. The radical unschooling mother would have allowed this. But non. I did not. Eat a real breakfast, I said. Now she has an apple. Yesterday I made an omelette for lunch, which Beezy helped with by cracking the eggs and whisking them. She wanted just cheese in the omelette. I wanted broccoli, which she likes, so I added it, and also onions, which she doesn't like. I didn't mention that I was putting onion in. I used only a little and cut the pieces very small. She ate her entire portion and didn't even notice the onions! She was hungry because she had not been snacking.

This reminds me of a friend of Beezy's who has visited at our house. I was telling her dad that she had told me she didn't like vegetables, so I asked him for ideas about what foods she likes. He looked at his daughter and said, "You eat what's put in front of you. You know that." During dinner when she didn't want to eat her vegetables, I reminded her what her father had said, and she ate her meal without complaint. She wasn't the least bit upset by it, either.

Another story is a funny one from my own family growing up. My brother was a super finicky eater, and he had gotten alarmingly skinny. My mom took him to the doctor. The doctor set down a rule that my mom must follow. The kids were to eat whatever she cooked, and after dinner, the kitchen was closed. If you didn't eat your dinner, you didn't get to have something else later. After a couple of weeks, my brother was eating everything. This doctor was brilliant! It was his fault that the kitchen was closed, so my brother was mad at the doctor, not my mom. And my mom had the resolve to stick to the plan, because good mothers know what is best for their children, a truth that radical unschoolers would deny.

I have found myself feeding what amounts to an entire meal to my child at bedtime. This will not do. I think a small bedtime snack is fine, but it should not be a time to make up for not eating enough all day long. The bottom line is this: I am no longer going to make special food for children, neither my own nor anyone else's. They will at least try everything on their plates. I am going to cook with healthy ingredients that I enjoy, whether or not my child thinks she likes them. I am not a short order cook, and neither are you. Take charge of meal times! Sit down for dinner together as a family on most days of the week! Do not prepare special kid foods!! Do not allow snacking and grazing all day! But your family is too busy with extracurricular activities to sit down to dinner together, you say? Non, non, non, amie. Then you cut out those activities. Family time should be your priority, not wrestling, ballet, or gymnastics.

When my books come in that I mentioned in the last post, I will share the advice found therein and my own experiences, and together we can undo the unschooling/American lifestyle damage, if that is your wish.
Start today with baby steps. Start with developing good eating habits that will last a lifetime and provide precious, irreplaceable family memories.

Natural Learning Updates

Over on The Sparkling Martins blog today, Dayna has written about how her oldest two children learned to read naturally, without phonics training, direct teaching, or tests. It's food for thought, the idea that people will want to learn this wonderful and useful skill, and therefore internal motivation will lead to the acquiring of it, when a child is interested and ready.

At my house we do "natural" reading lessons, using a Montessori inspired approach you can read about in the Aug. 31 post. Reading is not so far an activity that takes priority in Beezy's life, though occasionally I find her reading of her own accord, not only because it is part of "school". Still, she likes to read, and it isn't being forced upon her. Reading is also a part of other activities, such as the Pictureka! board game we played today. Being read to is still one of Beezy's greatest joys, and her comprehension skills are strong. Some days I feel content with her reading progress, while other days I find myself feeling a little frustrated. Then I know that I have to step back and refocus.

Keeping track of daily activities in my small leather notebook helps me to see that learning happens all day long, in a variety of ways. Learning is simply life. And for children, play is the primary and most effective method of education. Just now, Beezy brought a bug in that she found in our birdbath and said, "I'm studying it." I noticed it had wings and so was likely to die in the cup of water she had put it in, so she took it out and set it in the shade. So much can be learned simply through observation and conversation.

I do still need to have some formal learning time and a basic system to follow in order to feel comfortable with our homeschooling life. My foray into unschooling, however, has taught me that having a rhythm to our days, rather than a set schedule, provides for a relaxed flow and an openness to spontaneous choices. I do feel more joyful with a natural learning mindset. I think it is the unschooling attitude that sets it apart from other methods more so than the actual things done throughout the course of the day. Reading, math, writing, science, history, religion and other "subjects" happen in every homeschooling situation, and many of the same resources are being used. The difference is in why a topic or skill is being pursued, in what context, and in what form.

A common concern I come across in my reading are the so called "gaps" that may occur with homeschooling, and especially in the case of unschooling. This seems like a lapse in common sense. Regardless of how one is educated, no person will have learned everything there possibly is to learn, even if he lives to be 100. I know nothing about statistics, robotics, calculus, or accounting. Nor, at this time, do I care to. Even in my strongest areas, such as literature, there is still much to be learned. I was recently turned on to the poetry of Gerard Manley Hopkins, an English Jesuit priest from the Victorian era, who I somehow missed in college. I suppose Hopkins has come into my life at the time that we were meant to be introduced. What a happy surprise! I'm grateful for the gap in my education.

There is much deconditioning to do in our understanding of what it means to be educated. The U.S. is possibly on the verge of military action in Syria. Are we to embark on yet another war in the Middle East? All of the knowledge in the world will not help our leaders make the best decisions if they lack wisdom. Sadly, our youth is growing up in a culture in which wisdom is rarely considered, and even knowledge has taken a back seat to "information." The Common Core Curriculum being implemented this school year seeks to replace much of classic literature with "informational textbooks." The written word will be dissected until anything alive and inspiring has been gutted from it like a fish.

Education as information must be cognitively understood and memorized, within a limited context, whereas an emphasis on culture--symbol, story, nuance, philosophy, art, history, religion, language, ethics, and experience--results in greater understanding, in a relational context. Culture is not easily measured by multiple choice and true and false tests. Test taking skills are measured by tests. Only a small fraction of the learning styles and intelligences natural to humanity fit into the public schooling model of education. The "smart" people are the ones who best fit into that limited fraction and who are the most obedient and compliant to outside authority.

Despite my sometimes negative impressions of radical unschooling, I am continuing to open my mind, little by little, to its potential goodness. Yes, I believe that it sometimes goes too far in the name of "freedom" and veers into the perils of unparenting and neglect. But within the peaceful borders of what I believe to be the truth of the Catholic faith, I see the promise of a beautiful, thriving garden of limitless possibility for a better future for humanity. A sea change, one mindful family at a time.

Joie de Vivre & Homeschooling

I discovered for myself that in France presentation is not incidental, but capital. The kings may be long gone, but customs that started in the court, and the respect for rules and protocol, are still present in France today. French flair, style, and panache imply some kind of freedom. But form is ever present, and style and panache are played out within its boundaries. Form is not some abstract concept; it governs daily life...      

--Harriet Welty Rochefort, from Joie de Vivre


There you have it. I highlighted certain words in Harriet's passage, because they spoke to me of why particular aspects of unschooling philosophy and practice struck me like fingernails on a chalk board. Of course my voyage into the world of unschooling would have to intersect at some point with my new pursuit of joie de vivre. Now I know why, aside from religious considerations, the radical unschooling idea of "freedom without limits" sounded so wrong. My French sensibilities balked at the very idea! My maternal great-grandmother was a Valley (Vallee in French), half French, and my mother adored her. My grandmother and my mother surely inherited something of the French way from this woman whose father was French-American, both in their blood and in their life experience. No wonder the idea of formlessless, of the absence of boundaries, seems so, well, vulgar, to me!

Once again the value of discipline is brought to form, and the true freedom to be found within certain, defined parameters. To the French, this is what it means to be human. Tradition and custom are tres important. They are not trifles that impede self-expression and joy; rather, they are the very fabric from which the tapestry of joie de vivre is woven! They are natural to society. Therein lies my distinction between unschooling and natural learning. Neither should the fact that France is a Catholic nation be overlooked. I will take formal elegance and the value of beauty wrought from tradition over an inconsistent free-for-all any day. Give me fresh cut flowers on my dining room table. Let me eat my breakfast on fine china. And God give me the grace to teach my child how to live and learn well. Let joie de vivre be her inheritance.

Facing an Unschooling Train Wreck, Part 2

Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of God. Blessed are they which are persecuted for righteousness' sake: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are you, when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely, for my sake.  
(Matt. 5: 9-11)

Hear the word of the LORD, you who tremble at his word: "Your own people who hate you, and exclude you because of my name, have said, 'Let the LORD be glorified, that we may see your joy!' Yet they will be put to shame."  (Isaiah 66:5)


To return to the issue of confidence in homeschooling and what drew me to the promise of empowerment in radical unschooling:  here I have to face some demons. A certain amount of the self-doubt that I have experienced was inflicted by others close to me who did not believe in me, who didn't think I was doing a great job of parenting and thought there was something wrong with my child. This has left deep scars. I had great confidence in the beginning of the journey, but I was criticized and attacked so many times that my joy in our lifestyle, and my ability to trust in others and myself, was eroded by people who I feel should have been supportive. Beezy's academic progress was judged as not good enough. Bringing these instances of injustice to light resulted in more of the same, in a widening circle. I try to understand that we are all wounded, and sometimes pain is manifest in the tearing down of others. Fear replaces faith. I must take responsibility for my own feelings and reactions in order to heal.

In June my family went to a Renaissance Faire, and a story teller/empathic healer looked into my eyes. She noted my dark-rimmed, blue-grey irises, what she called "sky eyes", which spoke of my strong core and the fact that I don't let anyone push me around. She also saw something else; that my soul had broken apart like the breaking up of a frozen lake. But the pieces were not the usual chunks of ice. They were like shards of glass. I knew it was true, because I started crying. The only thing I don't know for sure is exactly which pieces are still cutting me.

My hope that trust can be restored is consistently dashed each time I choose to believe again. In what universe is it okay to tell your sister that her beloved child will grow up to be a serial killer? People have chosen to think the worst of me and my family. Optimism is in my nature, but so is deep sensitivity. If I pull these shards out of my heart, will I bleed to death?

Maybe this is why I identify with the fallen guru, Dee. Something happened to shatter her too. Her problems are so much uglier than mine. My life is good, my husband and I are happy together, and our child is thriving. Yet in Dee's story I see magnified a darkness that I still have to face.

Perhaps women are especially vulnerable to doubting ourselves. We have been conditioned by society, family, and school to blend in. We should not be too loud or opinionated, should not call attention to ourselves or veer too far from the mainstream. We shouldn't make it too apparent how smart and talented we really are. We most especially should not have the audacity to think that we can educate our own children without certified experts. We are taught to feel guilty if we do not run with the other lemmings and drown in the sea. What's expected is a mass suicide of our spirits. And what's worse, it is often other women who cause us the most harm. We are conditioned to compete with one another and to soothe our jealousy by tearing each other down. Right and left we are silenced. I have so often been told that I am wrong in every way. Shit.

Radical unschooling was supposed to lift families out of the mire, but all they received instead was another oppressive, dictatorial dogma. Another cult of let's-all-think-the-same. A glossy cover with pseudo-intellectual twaddle inside. More insanity. I am so sensitive to beauty, and subsequently to ugliness. I didn't want to believe the RU train wreck I was seeing.

There is one, full-proof, saving grace. Karen DeBeus asserted in her ebook, Called Home, that if you are homeschooling, it is because you have been called to do it.  I was chosen, by God himself, for this vocation. I obediently have answered the call, and I have endured the persecution. I will not ignore my Lord. I will not stay on the sickening merry-go-round others invite me to play on. I will not continue to pound on closed doors, and I will not open my own to scorn and hate. God alone. God alone. God alone. 

The Vintage Homeschool

Recently while traveling in upstate NY, I was browsing at a flea market when I thought of a new blog concept: the vintage homeschool. I have a lot of antique, vintage and second hand stuff in my home, plus Amish furniture, my own collage art creations, and shabby chic influences. I had picked up the vintage Catholic school book I mentioned earlier, and something clicked. I want to give my child an old-fashioned Catholic education, but at home and without the mean nuns. Actually, I have heard mostly of nice nuns. Anyway, I googled to see if anyone else had come up with this idea already and found Karen DeBeus' blog, "Simply Living...for Him". She has two ebooks which I have purchased, so once finished reading I will review those.

Karen's take on the vintage homeschool is different form mine, but in a way it's along the same lines. She and a friend coined the term while discussing simplifying their homeschooling. She refers to the pioneer homeschoolers of 25 years ago, who began educating their children at home with none of the modern conveniences, such as large curriculum fairs and the internet. They must have relied on libraries and garage sales mostly...and God. Mostly God. While I was obsessively studying unschooling, it occurred to me that I was losing focus on my Catholic faith, and that wasn't a good sign. When I put my focus back where it belongs, I started to see the negative aspects of radical unschooling, and I wrote about them. I witnessed some worst case scenarios and couldn't see how a "freedom without limits" philosophy could be Catholicized. At the core, I don't think it can. At the same time, the simplicity, joy, gentleness, and peace being portrayed by unschooling advocates like Dayna Martin really appealed to me--and still does.

It seems like being a Christian parent should lead to respecting children, but I have noticed by observing myself and others that it doesn't necessarily follow. I remember taking my parents to the counter-cultural art and music festival called ComFest (Community Festival) in Columbus when I lived there. It was begun in the 1960s as a Vietnam War protest, and to this day is put on entirely by volunteerism, with no corporate sponsorship. Free music concerts all weekend on five stages! My mom commented that people at ComFest were even nicer than people at church. When I think in terms of radical unschooling simply, without getting caught up in the secular, anti-teaching dogma, I parent better. I am kinder, and I feel so much more peaceful. And it's important to say, I can do this without abnegating my parental authority. Children and parents are equal persons in the eyes of God, but we are not the same. We have different roles and responsibilities. I had to separate the wheat from the chaff, and there is gold to be found in embracing the freedom that this life offers, but for me only in terms of putting God--and the teachings of Jesus' Church--first.

Those pioneer homeschoolers were unschoolers. They had to start from scratch and figure out how children naturally learn, and how to relate differently to their children, to find better ways to educate them and be with them. They had to shift the paradigm. I am beginning to see life/natural learning as part of the simplicity movement, and of getting back to a healthy family unit as the bedrock of society. Entrepreneurship, family businesses and farms of which children are a part, self-reliance, safe food and products, environmental sustainability, voluntary poverty, and thriving local communities do not have to be a thing of the past. We can live it, starting today, one holy day at a time.

Rules vs. Principles

Radical unschoolers make much ado over living by principles rather than rules. This sounds fine in theory, but then it occurred to me that principles might lead to certain rules, just as a matter of logical flow. What's the problem with rules? It seems that some fear that establishing specific rules would lead to punishment if those rules were broken, and punishment is not allowed. Instead, natural consequences should be permitted to occur so that the child will learn on his own to make better choices. I don't believe that rules necessarily lead to punishment. I do agree that natural consequences are superior to punishment, but as usual we need to define the terms.

At the Montessori schools where I worked, the teachers also believed in natural consequences, but in a different way from unschoolers. The natural consequence of, say, stabbing someone with a pencil might be to have the privilege of using the pencil taken away for a certain amount of time. The RU philosophy, on the other hand, would dictate that the parents do not provide the consequences at all. The freedom to use the pencil would not be taken away. The hope would be that when the other kid got upset about being stabbed, or hit the stabber on the head with a block in retaliation or whatever, the one wielding the pencil violently would realize that was something he should not do. This is only an illustration and is not to say that RU parents would allow their children to seriously hurt one another.

If the children were able to work the problem out on their own, Montessori teachers would do their best not to interfere. Especially if no one was physically harmed, we would often send the child who was telling on another back to her friend, reminding her of how to use her words to express her feelings. An RU parent would also likely use such guidance, so there are similarities, but the distinction is important.

In Montessori, the only consequence of many conflicts might be the requirement of an apology, a reminder of how to treat one another respectfully and with empathy, and/or a suggestion to draw your friend a nice picture if you had hurt his feelings. A time out might be used to help a child have some time to calm down before coming back to resolve the conflict. Natural consequences as understood in the RU way, with no direct parental interference concerning the outcome, sometimes work but often do not achieve balanced results. A child may not stop drinking too much soda just because his body has become unhealthy from it, or stop shoplifting because she got caught, for example. Therefore, I would have to argue against the idea that children will always "self-regulate" effectively. (I would instead champion positive habit formation and authoritative parental action when needed.) This leads to the next analysis of terms.

Another RU reason for not establishing rules is that this would be coercion. "Coercion" and "force" are often used by radical unschoolers in the same sentence. In reality, these words are synonyms. Why say the same thing twice? I think it is a subtle form of emotional manipulation, to make you feel bad for being "forceful" (in other words, somehow violent) with your child. I agree that using intimidation, bullying, or physical punishment to get a child to conform to an adult's will is a bad thing. But just as with the false idea that teaching usually means coercion, the villainization of rules goes too far. And here's the irony: one definition of "rule" is a regulating principle. Rules and principles are both codes of conduct. We typically think of a principle as a generalized, rather than a specific, rule, but these words are also synonyms on some level. The sharp line that unschoolers draw between rules and principles is imaginary. This hair-splitting doesn't help anyone, and it leaves the radical unschooling philosophy feeling flimsy and shallow.

It's as if parents don't trust themselves to be fair and discerning, and kind and gentle with their children, unless they follow a strict dogma of what they can and cannot do. They insist that their children must be trusted to make their own decisions regarding education and everything else, and so they must avoid any semblance of "teaching" or "rules" or "coercion" at all costs, or they will destroy their child's freedom. Do we free our children by chaining ourselves this way?

I agree that arbitrary rules set only for the convenience of parental control are not ideal and can harm our relationship with our children. Rules that naturally flow from religious and personal values, however, make good sense. They create peaceful boundaries. In this way, I also agree that living by certain principles can mean that not as many specific rules will be necessary. And self-discipline can be taught to a child without shaming or physical violence. One Golden Rule comes to my mind: Do unto others as you would have done unto you. This is a brilliant guiding principle to follow!

Vintage Catholic Homeschooling & Teaching vs. Facilitation

My family has been traveling in upstate New York this week, and today we went out for a drive in the countryside seeking antiques and flea marketing. I found a Catholic school book for the lower grades called America's Founders and Leaders, a biographical history of the United States. Published first in 1928, the year both of my grandmothers were born, this is a living book featuring the discoverers, explorers, soldiers, missionaries, martyrs, inventors, and statesmen "who have helped to make our country great." The editors write, "We want you to know the glorious part which Catholics have taken in the founding, freeing, establishing, and developing of our country."

Norse explorer, Leif Erikson

 

I have gotten the impression that many Catholics are choosing homeschooling over Catholic schools, not only because of cost issues, but because the Catholic schools in some parishes are no longer providing a truly Catholic education. I have also read lamenting words over watered down religious education classes for children and the complaint that they have become "too Protestant," so some families are also foregoing those classes offered weekly by churches. There is in addition the broader discontent with how Vatican II has been interpreted and the changes in the Mass and other outcomes deemed negative by those who wish a return to tradition.

A common theme seems to run between these concerns and those Catholics drawn to a Charlotte Mason type education. An alarming modernism turns these families toward using traditional Catholic curriculum companies (some of whom reprint out-of-print resources) or designing their own curriculum with a decidedly classical, vintage orientation. There is an intense longing to reclaim traditional Catholic practices, such as the Latin Mass, Marian devotion, and a deeply encompassing faith formation for children.

Incidentally, these particularly Catholic issues raise questions regarding the growing trend of Catholic unschooling. So allow me to take a closer look at a couple of the unschooling buzzwords, as I promised in the last post to do. Unschoolers separate themselves from public schooling and school-at-home methods by drawing a sharp line between "teaching" and "facilitation." Here is a quote from author Sarah McGrath in Unschooling: a Lifestyle of Learning:  "The act of teaching includes an offer of information, at best, and pressure or threat to learn, at worst." Obviously we would wish to avoid that worst case scenario which is, in some cases, admittedly associated with teaching. But is teaching, at best, the offering of information?

First of all, this anti-teaching rhetoric supposes that the offering of information is of little to no value, a point with which I disagree. And when I consider my vocation as a belly dance instructor, so much more comes to mind. When I teach belly dancing, I share my passion (another unschooling buzzword). I pass on the knowledge, experience and wisdom of those who taught me, as well as my own personal take on the dance. I give feedback and instruct my students in how to move their bodies without injury, and I also provide an emotionally safe place for self-expression. I offer encouragement. Students follow my movements (role modeling) and verbal instructions to learn correct posture and excellent technique. I tell them about the culture of the Near and Middle East, share history of the dance in its varying forms, explain musical differences, show costuming that I own, pass pictures around, etc... The modes of teaching are endless, and my classes are often described as fun and inspiring.

Contrast this with "faciliation," the preferred method of unschoolers. Facilitate merely means, "to make easier." So, unschooling parents make learning easier for their children. That's it? I understand, of course, that methods such as "strewing" interesting and educational materials in the child's path, answering questions, having conversations, providing resources to help a child explore interests, and creating an enriching home environment are all ways of facilitating a child's education, and there is nothing wrong with any of these. They are, indeed, all good things. There is, however, a definition of the root word, facile, which means, "readily manifested and often lacking sincerity or depth." I know of unschoolers who go deeply into their interests, and I know of those whose resources are limited, shallow, and potentially harmful. My concern here is an approach to education that replaces teaching with making things easier.

Easier doesn't necessarily mean more joyful (unschooling buzzword) or substantial. Why is facilitation glorified and teaching villainized in the radical unschooling community; or at best, reserved only if asked for directly by the child? To be fair, RU parents are "allowed" to offer information and guide their children, but children are still given unlimited choice according to the prevailing dogma, and any requirement of receiving formal instruction is deemed coercion (a buzzword for another day!)

I am here to argue that teaching and facilitation can go hand in hand, and as I understand the teaching of the Church on education, facilitation alone doesn't fit the bill. Teaching is not unnatural. Rather, it has been honored from the dawn of time, and certainly from the dawn of Christianity. Jesus is the Master Teacher, the Rabboni, and there is no higher honor. Don't we Catholic parents want this for our families?

Organic Mothering is now the home of not only "the art of natural family living" but also of "the vintage catholic homeschool." Welcome to the future of Catholic education, a truly natural learning experience!

A New Vision

In the last post, I felt compelled to put my concerns about radical unschooling philosophy and the way it is practiced on the table, without any sugar coating or regard for diplomacy. That was not to judge anyone's choice of unschooling, for I did conclude previously that Christians certainly can apply some tenets of this method within the boundaries of their faith, which to me is the truest expression of freedom, particularly in the form of Catholicism. My research has also led me to conclude that "radical" in the Catholic sense is quite different than the original, secular concept of unschooling. It has been suggested that I don't understand the philosophy, but I think that perhaps I understand it too well. I have read between the lines and found a lack of substance and a host of logical error. In practice, RU, for many but not all, tends toward unparenting, or benign neglect. Unparenting, however, can happen regardless of the educational philosophy which is employed.

I have been researching and applying unschooling philosophy and practices for the past several months, and yes, much learning happens naturally, and I fervently believe that interest-led education and the pursuit of one's passions leads to deep learning and great joy. Surely, that is God's will for our lives, to have life abundantly, as Jesus said. However, the only way I think unschooling could be sufficient is if it is done very intentionally, and if direct teaching is not thrown out the window. There has to be a partnership paradigm that is a balance of parent- and child-led education, encompassing all aspects of life, with the authority squarely in the hands of parents. Some would argue that this is not unschooling, so surely anyone can see this dilemma for the Christian parent? I am taking a sabbatical from blogging for at least this week, so everyone please have a safe and happy Independence Day. When I come back, I'm going to look at the unschooling buzzwords and the problem with semantical hair-splitting and fear mongering that I have witnessed. I trust the Holy Spirit to guide me to the bottom of the well, to discover the pure water waiting there. And I will share the bucket!

Catholic Natural Learning

Having established that I could be a radical unschooler, I have decided that this is not the best fit for my family. I have learned so much from all of the reading, talking, writing, praying, and even sometimes obsessing (who, me?) about unschooling since February. I do believe that the Spirit is leading me toward a gentler approach to parenting and homeschooling. Mostly, I think I am being called to more fully engage life. To follow passions and make relationships a top priority. To avoid doing things because I should. To experience more joy.

Those things of which I have written about unschooling that resonate with me are the same ideas that attracted me to Montessori and Charlotte Mason. Many adults that I personally know are disrespectful toward children. I am guilty too, and this is the biggest thing that I want to change. Following my natural rhythms, and giving my child the opportunity to discover hers--this is important. But freedom without limits is nonsense.

The Virgin Mary is my role model exemplar as a wife, mother, and disciple of Jesus. With her guidance, intercession, blessings, grace, and protection, I cannot fail. She knows best the will of Jesus for my life. Jesus and Mary know what is best for my family, and I have no doubt that the Holy Spirit has and will continue to light my way.

All along I have defined Catholic unschooling as a uniting of the Faith, life, and learning into a seamless whole. How that is accomplished will be unique to each family. The concern I have is that "unschooling" is the negation of school. It is "not school". That doesn't give me something solid to embrace. If unschoolers are living as if school does not exist, why use the word school in the description at all? Life learning, natural learning, and organic learning are some examples of a worldview similar to unschooling, but without the baggage. Without the rigidity of "thou shall nots".

So I am taking a break from books and internet searches on the subject of unschooling. I have done my studying, and it is time to get back to making the Catholic faith the center of day-to-day living. I think I'll ditch coffee while I'm at it. Unschooling has given me the permission to free myself and my family from unnecessary shackles. Jesus said, "For my yoke is easy and my burden is light." I owe unschooling a debt of gratitude, for it led me to my "little way of the fleur de lis".  My home is a domestic church, and our educational lifestyle is Catholic Natural Learning.

A Child Draws Her Own Boundaries

This evening Beezy was playing on the porch with her new kitten, who is still very tiny.  A group of much younger children were out for a walk with their mother, and of course they were very interested in this pet!  But Beezy told me she wanted the kids to go, and she locked the screen door.  I knew she was feeling protective and overwhelmed by all the little hands wanting to touch the kitty.  I know this because I know her, but I asked her about it later, and she confirmed my intuition.  I didn't judge her reaction or her need to do what she saw fit to solve the problem at hand.  I understood and acknowledged the disappointment of the other children to their mother, but I didn't feel the need to fix anyone's feelings, not my daughter's, or the other children's, or the other adult's.  I simply observed.

Beezy set her own boundaries, met her own needs.  If she had asked me for additional help, of course I would have stepped in.  Later when we had come in from outside, she immediately wanted to go back out and do more chalk drawing.  I said, "If you need to draw some more, then do so!"  It was such a good feeling in both these instances to experience radical unschooling principles at work, to witness my own growth, and to be amazed.

Unschooling Principles

"The principles of unschooling are that humans are born learners. That children will learn best when given the freedom to learn what, when and how they want.

That doesn't, of course, tell anyone what to do. Principles are what help us decide which choices support our philosophy and which choices run counter to it.

Some people hear the unschooling principles and see them as limiting, as preventing them from doing what they feel is best or want to do and equate that with being closed-minded. But we all have guiding principles that limit our choices to the choices that we feel are right. If we didn't have principles it would be okay to shoot our neighbor for running his table saw at 6AM on Saturdays! But we voluntarily limit our choices of solutions to that problem because we recognize that some of them violate our principles. (Or values or ethics or philosophy or get in the way of our goals in life.)"   --from the blog, Joyfully Rejoicing

 making "grass angels"

It looks like anything you might want to know about unschooling, and any question you might have, is covered at Joyfully Rejoicing. I recommend just looking at a few tidbits at a time and letting the unschooling philosophy slowly sink in.  The above explanation was an "aha" moment for me.  I was indeed feeling that some unschoolers are closed-minded and not thinking for themselves, just parroting someone else's ideas about unschooling. They seem rigid rather than joyful, refusing to continue going deeper, which defeats the whole point.

Dayna Martin actually covers this in her Radical Unschooling book as part of the journey in understanding the process. Some people may get stuck in that rigid spot and get discouraged, even give up on the whole idea. And unfortunately their policing may adversely affect others.  Dayna commented on the Whole Life Unschooling Facebook group that there is no such thing as "fully RU".  We are always on the journey, and it will look different for every family.

Radical unschoolers live by principles rather than rules, but there will likely be specific rules which naturally follow from one's principles. The principle of respect for one's environment as well as considerations of safety lead to a "no running in the house" rule in my home.  The extension of unschooling principles in education to all other areas of life means respecting the wants, needs, and personhood of children within each family's individual principles. Gentleness is an overriding goal. We don't want to be constantly questioning whether every little thing we say and do is "RU" (Radical Unschooling). That would not be authentic parenting.

If I say that we are Catholic unschoolers in my family, that means that the Faith not only permeates educational considerations, but that it informs every area of life. And it means that our Catholicism is radical, or "from the root".  We can be radical unschoolers, because this means that we follow unschooling principles within the peaceful borders (my designation for limits or boundaries) of our Faith.  It could even be argued that the moniker "radical" is redundant, because it is already implied by the label of Catholic unschooling. In fact, catholic literally means "universal".  Our definition of Truth and Freedom may be different from other radical unschoolers, but the point is living joyfully and in respectful partnership with our children according to our Truth, not someone else's.  It means living in Freedom by our own lights, shining within the brighter light of Christ.

Peaceful Borders.

In Radical Unschooling: A Revolution Has Begun, author Dayna Martin establishes trusting children in their learning choices as a basic tenet of unschooling. The learning going on in her home is primarily passion-driven. I take no issue with this; in fact, I applaud it.  Radical unschooling extends the unschooling educational philosophy to other areas of parenting, including trusting one's child regarding considerations such as food, media, TV, video games, bed times, potty training, etc... This is where the parameters get murky for me; in some cases I see the connection to trust in natural processes, while in others the distinction isn't clear. The main point of radical unschooling, to me, is love, respect, and gentleness toward children. It is peaceful, mindful, intuitive parenting, not a cart blanche of personal freedom.

Suppose, as a Catholic mother, I do not allow my child to view pornography. This might be interpreted as not trusting my child and trying to "control" him by some radical unschoolers. Is radical unschooling, then, to be understood as the complete abnegation of parental authority? In her blog, Dayna distinguishes between radical unschooling and permissive parenting, stressing that these are not one and the same. She advocates guiding children and providing them with relevant information, and believes in hands on parenting and in trusting your inner guidance in raising them. There seems to be room here for an authentic expression of values.

Therefore, if I value moral safety and believe that pornography viewing would harm my child, setting a limit in this area actually promotes true happiness and freedom and is an exercise of the parental vocation given me by God.  Since "limits" is a hot button word in the RU community, let's think outside the box and use a different moniker. I suggest peaceful borders. Think in terms of an enclosed garden, a sanctuary, or if you will, a domestic church. The borders are there not to wall you away from the rest of the world, but to provide protection and a safe haven for contemplation and the building up of qualities such as self-possession and discernment. Here you can listen to your inner voice and connect with Truth.

Can I promote "peaceful borders" and still be a radical unschooler? I can call myself whatever I want, of course. But the primary definition of "radical" would back me up if I did:  of, relating to, or proceeding from a root.  Interesting that we have here a correlating garden image! The garden speaks of fertility, growth, and natural cycles. "Radical" does not have to mean extremism or fanaticism. Radical unschooling implies rootedness. It does not have to be a complete rejection of all tradition or authority. It does not have to mean allowing children to do whatever they want, whenever they want, although that is the free choice some may make. We can pick from the garden of radical unschooling those areas of flexibility that make sense to us, that speak to our hearts, and that are for the good of our children and our families. We can take what we like and leave the rest.  It is okay if some fruit is forbidden.

Life, Unscripted.

One great thing that Dayna Martin addresses in her Radical Unschooling book is that there is no radical unschooling script. First let's consider that sometimes it does help to have a few useful phrases on the tip of one's tongue. In conflict situations in the Montessori classroom, for example, we taught the kids to begin with, "I don't like it when you..."  I felt like I got free assertiveness training along with my teacher education! I found that the same things that worked with young children worked with drunk men in bars. "I don't like it when you (name the offense)," was met with amazement and a cloudy understanding. Oh, women don't like that! Good to know. You could see the wheels turning. But I feel that to be authentic, one shouldn't be a walking, pat response. Using someone else's parenting style or scripted lingo will feel uncomfortable and false to both you and your children.

If unschooling results in a one-size-fits-all method of parenting, it is no better than mainstream patterns of punishment, abuse of authority, coercion, or generic curriculum use. In other words, there should be no "unschooling police", no bossiness about what you absolutely can and cannot do when it comes to unschooling. This would be failing to see the forest for the trees, and it would violate unschooling principles! I have discussed my understanding of unschooling as a method of education that does not separate learning from the rest of life. It is open source learning, not placing limits on learning according to time, place, or persons. Anyone in the child's life can be a teacher. Unschooling follows a child's interests and abilities, custom tailoring the education according to his or her needs.

Radical unschooling seems to have as its basic premise the extension of freedom and trust in education to other areas of life. But does this mean that there can be no limits, no rules, that the child should have everything and anything he wants, when he wants it? I think common sense alone would tell us, no.  Luckily we don't have to rely on common sense as Catholics, though. Original sin means that we have a tendency toward disorder in our desires, though we are, as creations of God, innately good. We must not fail to take either of these truths into consideration. We can also rely upon the particular trust in the Holy Spirit to guide us and our children, rather than some nebulous conception of blind trust.

Catholics do not consider immoral choices acceptable. Our freedom of choice is a freedom within limits, within the parameters of a set of definite values and guidelines established by the Church. And these are set forth for the benefit of all people and for their ultimate happiness, both in heaven and here on earth. So I can agree with Dayna that happiness should be the basic goal of education, but perhaps with a somewhat different slant. Radical unschooling for Catholics could still be possible within these boundaries, allowing for flexibility of rules, bedtimes, chores, food, etc.., which are determined according to a family's unique situation, values and principles, and depending upon such things as a child's age, maturity, personality, etc...

Radical unschooling certainly means respecting children as persons. According to Dayna, it is the path of balance, designed to meet the needs of all family members. It does not over-emphasize the rights and needs of the child. When I reflect upon my Montessori experience, the first school in which I taught was entirely child-centered and did not take into account the needs of teachers at all. This was extremely energy draining and spirit crushing.

Radical unschooling for Catholics could mean eliminating punishment. A partnership paradigm between children and adults is still possible along with the understanding that the parent is under the authority of God and teaches her children accordingly. We can establish our authority without being authoritarian. Most of all, I think it means freedom for each member of the family to be who God has created him or her to be. And it means that all families are free to be who they are. Unscripted.

Believing in Unschooling, Part 3

It appears that there are indeed Catholic families who practice radical unschooling, and they are not so dissimilar in their philosophy from non-Christian, radical unschoolers. I admit, however, that the internal struggle is still there. I vacillate from feeling the JOY of embracing unschooling and the creeping FEAR of...I don't know--the unknown? Worry about what other people will think? Worry that it won't work, and my child will "fall behind"?

It is summer, which is the perfect time to practice unschooling, when the public schools are closed and most homeschoolers are taking a break from academics. But I don't want to spend the whole summer with the spectre of what will happen in the fall haunting the back of my mind. The most logical thing to do, it seems, is to go from the known to the unknown--a basic Montessori principle. I know that my whole family is more joyful, and all of the relationships in our home have already improved, since I have increasingly focused on the ideas Dayna Martin puts forth in Radical Unschooling: A Revolution Has Begun. Just the night before last, for instance, it was getting late, and Beezy decided to rearrange her dollhouse. At first I wanted her to hurry up and put the things away so she could go to bed, but then I added, "but take your time!" She went from looking discouraged to feeling grateful. I respected her need to be doing that project at that moment, and it didn't take her long to finish.

My background as a Montessori teacher provides not only a philosophical touchstone, but a practical one; that is, how exactly might one apply Montessori principles to unschooling? Here is how it worked:  Children in my classroom would be asked if they would like a "presentation" of a particular "work", and they were free to either accept or decline. Most of the time they happily joined in the lesson. I think this approach could be successful with homeschooling lessons as well. Children naturally want to be able to do the things that they see adults and other children doing, and they enjoy having the attention of their parents.

Take a goal I have regarding the Faith. I would like to instill a routine of morning prayers and an evening Rosary. I can simply let my husband and daughter know that I am going to do these things and invite them to join me. They can either accept or decline the invitation. I do agree with unschoolers that internal motivation is much more effective in the learning process and in accomplishing anything in life in general, than the threats of punishment or disapproval hanging over one's head. Montessori used the word seduce, which in Victorian times meant to entice the child to wish to participate. The teacher sits on the floor with a project she is obviously very interested in doing, and the children will flock curiously to her side.

What do you think? I think it's an experiment worth trying, not just for the sake of the children, but for the sake of families. What if radical unschooling (which in it's best form could be called mindful parenting) could bring back the family as God intends it to be, the foundation and bedrock of a healthy, loving, thriving, peaceful, mutually supportive society? Wouldn't it be nice? Yes, but I don't think it is merely something that would be just great but is already too lost to be retrieved from the rubble.  It is possibility.  It is freedom.  It is hope.

Radical Unschooling

Today I bought Dayna Martin's Radical Unschooling: A Revolution Has Begun.  I found it on half.com for about $10, a much more reasonable price than what was offered on Ebay and Amazon. It wasn't available from my public library system, and my husband is done teaching at the college where he works an hour away, from which library I sometimes borrow materials. I also want to get away from obsessively researching unschooling online. I want to ween from too much computer use, so I bought the book. I have read postings by Dayna online and watched some of her youtube videos, and now I wish to delve more deeply into the subject. While I certainly don't agree entirely with her parenting philosophy, I think she is definitely onto something, and she expresses herself well in writing.

Dayna is like other radical unschoolers who allow their children unlimited media access. I believe in protecting my child's innocence and guarding her spirit against evil, so I simply can't buy into this practice. All potentially educational resources are not created equal!  For example, reading engages the entire mind, while television actually shuts down certain areas of the brain. It may be true that a child can learn from anything. The problem is in the content and other issues that may be detrimental, such as addiction to TV or video games. It's similar with food. Some foods are addictive and harmful to the body, and to me it is irresponsible to give unlimited access to toxic substances to a child.

But putting those concerns aside for the moment, a post at daynamartin.com really intrigued me, which was about unschooling vs. permissive parenting. She says that radical unschoolers are not neglectful parents and are in fact very "hands on" with their children. And she brought up attachment parenting and how she sees unschooling as an extension of this parenting style. From the beginning of Beezy's life, my husband and I practiced attachment parenting, especially as advocated by Dr. William Sears and his wife Martha, who are a pediatrician and nurse, respectively. We wore our baby in slings and other types of carriers, did not believe in the cry-it-out method of sleep training, practiced co-sleeping, fed her real, whole foods (rather than the baby food in packages), and she breastfed into the pre-school years. In fact, I coined the term, organic mothering (yes, this is my original idea!) to define and provide a continuation of attachment parenting principles for when children are older. That was the guiding force in beginning to write this blog in the first place, along with advertising my belly dance classes.

Dayna has also mentioned other terms to describe unschooling, such as organic learning. If I think of unschooling as a process by which families live in natural ways, with children learning organically through real life experiences, apprenticeships, lessons of their choosing, and via the role modeling of parents and other adults, then I am definitely an unschooler! Even during our formal "lesson time", the materials chosen are enjoyable to my child, and the Charlotte Mason methods that are used are gentle and not textbook bound. We go at our own pace, and the lesson time happens whenever it best fits into our day. Reading, writing, and math are covered, as well as living books on religious, historical, or science-oriented topics for narration. These provide the basic tools for learning about anything. The rest of the state's curriculum requirements can be covered via 4-H projects, piano lessons, and an unschooling lifestyle.

I am excited to read Dayna Martin's book and to get a more intimate picture of her family's lifestyle. While she and her husband are not Catholic homeschoolers, and therefore some of their choices may be in conflict with the Church's teachings on education, they still very obviously care deeply for each other and their children, and their goal is to live life in the fullest, most authentic ways possible, equally for both parents and children. My very favorite unschooling blog right now is called Clean., which is also not about a Christian family, but it is apparent that Rachel, the author, loves her life. I adore her photographs and was inspired to get a nice camera for Mother's Day so I can do something similar here.

We most likely are not going to find others who think and homeschool and parent exactly in the manner we do, so we can take what we like and leave the rest. When I really think about how I teach, there are many avenues to accomplishing education. Any learning being done must be done by the child, and this can happen when the home is a rich environment, when parents role model virtuous ways of living and when they follow their own passions, by the child's own discoveries and experiments, through asking and answering questions, during conversations, and by interactions in the community. And that is certainly not an exhaustive list! Guidance, role modeling, and facilitation are methods of teaching. One of the comments on Dayna's blog by a Christian mother was especially interesting, suggesting that she imagines unschooling to be the closest approximation to how people parented in biblical times.

That seems like enough food for thought for the time being. I will most certainly be reflecting on Dayna Martin's radical unschooling book in posts to come.

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.

Deconstructing Education #2

http://yes-i-can-write.blogspot.com/2010/12/unschooling-is-not-relaxed.html

This link will take you to the blog, "I'm Unschooled. Yes, I Can Write." This is written by a 21-year-old who was unschooled and is a very good writer, in my opinion. She distinguishes in this post between unschooling and relaxed homeschooling. I appreciate that there is a distinction and that unschoolers are concerned about the co-opting of the term by homeschoolers who do not actually unschool. Yet there is also a definite difference between "radical unschoolers" and plain old unschoolers, so obviously this is a term with a subjective and relative definition. Just as there are many styles and variations of homeschooling, it stands to reason that unschooling will mean something a little different to each person.

For example, I met a homeschooling mother who asked me something like, "Do you homeschool or do you do a co-op?" She seemed to be under the impression that this was an either/or type of thing. We belonged to a co-op which met for only a few hours on Mondays at the time. This did not mean that was all we did as homeschoolers. I considered the co-op to be supplemental, with my child's core education coming from home. People outside the homeschooling community seemed often to be under the impression that the co-op was the primary teaching tool, the "real school" if you will, and were confused about why it met only once a week and for only two, 10-week semesters a year. Clearly this is because it fit into their conception of what school should be better than the idea of a home-based education. To me, the co-op was mostly for socializing purposes for my only child, to do things with other children in a group and to have teachers other than me. It wasn't necessary for her education.

Today we do not belong to a co-op. We are involved in other community activities that fulfill the needs that we previously got from participating in one. Many of the classes there were excellent in quality, while others were perhaps not the best use of time. Belonging to the co-op took time away from myself, since I had to be a teacher there and spend a lot of time outside the co-op to prepare my lessons, and it took away from time I thought would be more beneficially spent focusing on other things with Beezy. At any rate, co-ops can certainly be a viable part of a homeschooling experience; it is not an either one homeschools or one belongs to a co-op type of proposition. This is to point out that even among homeschoolers there are varying beliefs about what homeschooling means, about what it should or should not be.

As far as unschooling goes, I think that term is sometimes used in very "radical" situations when unparenting or uneducating would better apply. But barring those extreme situations in which parents simply fail to parent and the learning of children is seriously stunted, unschooling seems to be a viable option of enriching education which encompasses an entire way of life. In my opinion, unschooling means that one does not generally apply the tactics and methods used for education in the public schools to one's approach to the education of one's children. Open Source Learning, a term I believe John Taylor Gatto coined, may be more accurate to what unschooling actually is.

I think it would be true to say that the Montessori Method is a style of unschooling, even if it is implemented in a classroom setting, although spending long hours away from one's family and segregated from the larger community is still problematic. Montessori's method is based on educating a child for life, on giving children a high level of, but not absolute, freedom of choice, and on being auto-educative and child-centered. Children have freedom of movement and are not shackled to desks. They are also not sequestered with children solely their own age, but have multi-age groupings. Teachers facilitate rather than dictate what a child learns. These are all tenets of unschooling. But unlike some forms of unschooling, there are rules, and the three Rs of respect for oneself, respect for others, and respect for one's environment are intrinsic to this method.

Efforts to instill good habits in children are important. Children are, after all, less mature and less experienced in life than adults (although there are surely exceptions to the rule!). They do not automatically know right from wrong, or how to resolve all of their own conflicts, and they couldn't possibly know what they might be interested in learning more about unless they have first had some exposure to a topic. With unschooling, I understand that this exposure happens more organically rather than by the direct intervention of adults. At the same time, I don't think unschooling necessitates that a parent never initiates a learning experience or that an adult never directly teaches her kids anything. Children thrive best with healthy boundaries and gentle guidance, gradually being given increasing levels of responsibility for themselves. In my opinion, unschooling does not mean that you can't read a book about rainforests to your child unless she has expressed a clear interest in the subject!

So can relaxed homeschooling be understood as a type of unschooling? At this point in time, I would say yes. If you disagree, I want to know why! I did not go to Wikipedia for a definition of unschooling to see if I am understanding the concept. It is clear that some unschoolers themselves misunderstand what it means to de-program oneself and one's children from the spirit-killing effects of government schooling. After all, when John Holt coined the term unschooling in the 60s, it was synonymous with homeschooling. I think some unschoolers have found only an alternate way to kill their children's spirits, well-intentioned as they may be. Yet it is also apparent that many unschoolers have found a way of living that works very well, producing well-rounded individuals who think for themselves and express themselves with extreme proficiency. Furthermore, these kids grow up to be happy people!

As with homeschooling, I will suggest that there is no single, right way to do unschooling. I am unschooling myself by not going to an online dictionary to have someone else's opinion thrust upon me about what this is and whether or not I can call myself an unschooler. I'm not saying that I am an unschooler. I'm saying that I'm thinking for myself about what such a term truly implies. I do not think, for example, that it implies allowing a child of 5 years old to eat junk food all day, and then try to tell people that it is because I trust my child that I allow him to do this. To me, that is simply ludicrous. Such "radical" unschooling really has nothing at all to do with education or authentic spirituality. Right now I have begun to experiment with unschooling. I will continue to log my thoughts, results, questions, successes, failures, and conclusions, and I welcome your imput on the journey!