Worldschooling, Not Unschooling

As many of you know, I struggle with the unschooling label. Generally, I don’t consider myself an “unschooler’. Or rather, I wear the label very loosely. I prefer the term “zenschooling,” since it is more in line with how I process the concept of education, and how we practice it as a family.

I was pleasantly surprised to discover another term that resonates with us – “worldschooling.”

Eli Gerzon came up with “worldschooling” as an alternative to unschooling. This is a brief description of what it is, from his website:

Gerzon defines it by saying, “It’s when the whole world is your school, instead school being your whole world.” Eli Gerzon has “unschooled through college” mainly by learning from his international travels but the term does not require you to travel the world, just as unschooling doesn’t forbid making use of school resources. Instead, it’s when one actively experiences and learns from the world around one: the home, family, friends, strangers of all backgrounds, libraries, parks, sports, forests, schools, towns, and of course the world and the world wide web. It also emphasizes that there is always more to learn from this wonderful, complex world regardless of whether one has a high school degree, is a doctor, or is solely self-educated.

What I like about the term “worldschooling” is that, at this time, there is no baggage. It’s inviting, welcoming, and inclusive. It’s not reserved for kids who are school age, it’s not a teaching method, and it’s open-ended. Like unschooling, it’s a way to perceive the world, people, and learning. And it’s a term that won’t scare people. In fact, I think most people who care about “real” education would all agree that this approach is appropriate for our new global community.

Hypotheticals and Homeschooling (Crap Happens)

Here’s a simple truth: Worry is not the same as critical thinking.

As with many things, hypotheticals are not bad in and of themselves. It’s why and how we spend time thinking in the hypothetical.

Brad is playing chess. His opponent can do many possible things. One of those things is to come out with a surprise move and win the game. In order to win, Brad has to spend his time in the hypothetical. If he spends his time worrying that his opponent might win, and moves his pieces with that frame of mind, he won’t win, except if he’s lucky. He’ll also be a nervous wreck during the game.

However, if Brad spends his game critically thinking about the possible moves that his opponent can make, and then plans ahead to either counterattack or manage his opponent’s moves, then he has a much higher chance of winning. It’s still a whole lot of hypothetical, just a matter of how he’s going about it.

Now, I’m not saying that our kids are opponents. Far from it. They are on our team. If we are playing soccer on a team, and we have teammates who spend time worrying about how the other team might kick a ball in their face, or that they might score a goal, is that team member supporting the team? Team players thick critically, and help each other. Even team captains. Team captains who worry, and fret, and second guess their choices have a hard time leading their team. Team captains who are bullheaded also have a hard time leading an effective team.

Here’s another simple truth: We will always miss out. We will always get gipped. So will our kids.

It is practically impossible to do everything. The only thing we can do is fully and completely experience the thing we are doing now. I’m typing this email instead of cleaning the house. Later, I’ll be scampering around town fending off my mother from buying everything my children ask for, instead of sitting at the park while they play. And that’s how it is. If I spend that time wondering if it’s the right choice, or thinking how I maybe something else would be “better”, then not only have I lost the thing I didn’t do, but I lost the thing I’m DOING, as well. Either we are fully here and now, or we are doubly screwing ourselves over.

Here’s another simple truth: Playing video games to escape is different than playing video games because it’s a passion.

The kid we imagine who plays video games in his room all day and never talks to his family, he’s in trouble. He’s not in trouble because he’s playing video games. He’s in trouble because he’s disconnected from his family. Because he’s unhappy, escaping. He doesn’t run downstairs to tell his family about all his adventures. He doesn’t enjoy celebrating at holidays or sharing a family outing. He’s hurting. That’s a child who doesn’t need his video games yanked from him. That is a child who seriously needs help emotionally. The family probably also needs help, because these things don’t happen in isolation.

We can worry about this happening, and make it more likely it will happen. Or we can think critically and know that if this does happen, we are willing to stand up and say, “I’m going to do everything I possibly can to help this family heal, including healing myself.” Even in this very difficult situation, all is not hopeless. Except, when we worry, it does seem hopeless. When we think critically, we realize that every situation is manageable.

On the other hand, a kid who plays a lot of video games, but then comes back to his family and friends on a regular basis, and is happy at family gatherings, and likes to have conversations about his adventures. He reads books, and plans, and all the other things kids do when they are enthusiastic about life, then that’s GOOD. This child is healthy and strong. He is loving life, happy, and enthusiastic. Why mess that up with our own worry and neurosis?

Even if this does become a problem because his obsession is so strong, it takes away from his other life pursuits (say, showering, eating, going outside…), there ARE ways to deal with these things. But not if we worry and stress about them. We HAVE to believe that no matter what happens, we are capable and able parents, and we can deal with it. We are also capable and able enough to recognize when things start getting to be truly unhealthy. Because we are critically thinking, not worrying.

I am a hypothetical preparer. I think ahead, plan, prepare for what-ifs. I’m typically good at strategy games and leading and managing personalities. I don’t worry about what’s going to happen. I expect crap to happen, and I’m ready.

Final simple truth: Crap will happen. It will happen a lot. Get used to it. Then, deal with it.

Even Unschoolers Can Get Homeschool Burnout

So where has Tammy been? She’s been doing too many things, that’s what.

This is a serious concern for us homeschoolin’ mamas who, in addition to educating our kids, have a life of our own. I suppose, this problem is true for every mama. However, with homeschooling, it’s even easier to spread ourselves too thin without even realizing we’re doing it.

The reason? We are in total control of our time. We have very few outward “have-tos” that we can blame our stress on. And if you’re at all like me, you like to fill your time with fun, interesting and challenging things, so we don’t have any real indication of when we are “free” and when we are “busy”. It all smooshes together and becomes one big mess of “I should do….”s.

There are so many great things to do in life, it can slowly build up, without even seeing it. One great thing here, another great thing there… before I know it, I have so many great things going on, that it’s impossible to do any of those things without having all the other things hanging over me. It’s also hard to spend any significant time any of those one things without feeling like I’m neglecting so many other things. A lot of great things = stress.

Now, it’s far better than having a life full of yucky things, I admit. But it’s still stressful. Perhaps, even more stressful because I’ve put all these things on myself. I can’t say “no” to opportunities because I made a choice to homeschool specifically to be able to do great things that are otherwise not availalbe to me. I also can’t complain that other people are putting pressure on me, and therefore direct my frustration at someone else.

It snuck up on me, this burn-out. I thought for sure, that it wouldn’t happen to me. I’m not following a curriculum, not beating myself up about making sure the kids learn this or that by the time they are 7.4 years old. But, you know, when a week goes by and I haven’t been able to post to my blog, which is on my top three favorite things to do, and I can’t remember the last time that I’ve let go and just had fun (without feeling simultaneously guilty about all the things I’m not doing), it’s a wake up call that it’s time to simplify. I’m burning myself out in a totally unexpected way – by attempting to do everything I want to do.

But how can I simplify when I don’t want to get rid of anything? I like the things that are happening in my life.

So, fellow busy mamas, what do you do to make sure that you don’t have too much going on? How do you keep your life balanced, full of things that you love, yet not too full?

New Unschooling Journal – Journal of Unschooling and Alternative Learning (JUAL)

I was surprised to see this in my AERO newsletter today. I haven’t seen anything about it in the homeschooling/unschooling circles. Perhaps because this is a Canadian publication? And, I haven’t read my most recent issue of Life Learning, so perhaps I missed something mentioned there.

Feedback welcome.

AERO member Carlo Ricci has established what may be the first scholarly journal on unschooling. Here is his announcement:

I am pleased to invite submissions for the next issue of the online peer-reviewed publication, the Journal of Unschooling and Alternative Learning (JUAL), to be published as papers become accepted. Authors of original research interested in submitting manuscripts to be considered for publication in JUAL should review the JUAL home page (http://www.nipissingu.ca/jual/index.asp), and the Submissions for detailed information on submission requirements.

JUAL seeks to bring together an international community of scholars exploring the topic of unschooling and alternative learning, which espouses learner centered democratic approaches to learning. JUAL is also a space to reveal the limitations of mainstream schooling.

JUAL understands learner centered democratic education as individuals deciding their own curriculum, and participating in the governance of their school—if they are in one. Some examples of learner centered democratic possibilities are unschooling, Sudbury Valley, Fairhaven, the Albany Free School, and the Beach School in Toronto. In terms of unschooling, we view it as a self-directed learning approach to learning outside of the mainstream education rather than homeschooling, which reproduces the learning structures of school in the home.
It will offer readers relevant theoretical discussions and act as a catalyst for expanding existing knowledge in specific areas of practice and/or research on learning relevant to the journals mandate. The journal will be available at http://www.nipissingu.ca/jual/index.asp as a free publication containing material written in French or English. JUAL will initially be published as articles become accepted for publication. When enough articles to make an issue are available, we will publish them as an issue.

Questions can be addressed to the editors of JUAL by contacting Carlo Ricci at carlor@nipissingu.ca

Note: I tried connecting to their website, but it timed out. Can anyone get to it?

Starting Where You Are

I came across an inspiring post today about unschooling. Basically, her question is, do we have to jump into unschooling all at once? She came up with the answer that no, we can take it a little bit at a time to find our balance. Great insights.

There are also lots of cute pictures of kittens.

Unschooling Voices Back in Business

For those of you wondering where the unschooling voices went to, I got an email today from Joanne saying that she’s gearing up to start again in November. I like unschooling voices. So many interesting perspectives. I’m looking forward to it starting up again.

Gifted, Unschooling, ADHD, and More

You know, I have a whole lot to say about these things. But jovecanada says so many interesting things, I’m going to send you there.

One comment I would like to make, is that she mentions a Yahoo group – Homeschooling Creatively. I highly recommend it. Cindy, the list moderator, rocks.

Unschooling, Zen-schooling and Trust

I have an issue with unschooling. Although I refer to myself and our family as unschoolers, generally, I don’t really feel like it’s “my” community. “My” community is everyone. All homeschoolers, all parents, all people.

One of the reasons I hesitate to call myself an unschooler, or to get too deeply involved in the unschooling community is this idea of “trust”. It seems, that it means different things to different people. I have a zen-like idea of what trust is. And it creates an unschooling-like environment for my family. My hubby’s idea of trust is similar – not identical. And together, we have a basic trust and respect that our kids will be able to handle their own lives and own mistakes (and own successes). That they don’t need us to define for them who they are or what is important in the world. That’s for them to decide.

Yet… yet…. we’re not radical unschoolers. At least not in the way that I hear radical unschoolers describing their lives. I mean, I am radical in a lot of ways. But not in a way that all the other radical unschoolers can say, “Oh yes, she’s one of us.” Nu huh. Nobody can say that. I’m not “one of anyone”. I’m me. And our family is just… well.. different. Based on trust, respect and also… practical life issues. Based on the fact that we have 5 different personalities, with 5 different takes on what’s important, living together under one roof. 5 people who want to be close, find a way to coordinate our lives so we see each other, be comfortable in our home, happy in our community, with minimal drama, high levels of forgiveness and high levels of groundedness. And two parents who consider their responsibility to include keeping our kids healthy, strong and free. The decisions we make and our practical life end up not really living up to the radical unschooling, and sometimes not even to the “regular” unschooling, portrait.

We make decisions based on everyone’s needs. Sometimes that means making the decision to limit things, like sugar and video games. Sometimes that means putting our foot down about bed times. And sometimes that means telling our kids what to do.

GAH! I’m such a bad unschooler.
Because I haven’t signed the unschooler contract. I’m a zen-schooler. And a whatever-works-educator. Whatever works so that everyone in the family’s needs are met, everyone feels loved and supported, everyone feels free, and everyone feels heard. To me, it doesn’t matter WHAT happens in a family, it doesn’t matter if there are star charts or bribes or strict bedtimes. It doesn’t matter if there’s school time or limitless videogames or any other thing. Those things by themselves are not indicators of anything. The only indicator that the “whatever-works-education” is working, is that everyone feels like a whole, complete, safe, secure, person. Who belongs in this world. Mistakes and all.

I read this great entry on Livejournal about big life needs vs. everyday practical, living together needs. I thought it made a really good point about how “trust” can exist in many different ways.

We are all where we are, working with what we have. All we can do is do what works, and when it stops working, do something else. Keep doing that until we find balance. When we find balance, we still have to keep adjusting. I’m suspicious of anyone who has found “a way”, and has gotten really comfortable in that way, thinking it’s going to be like that, and that it’ll work forever. In real life, it seldom works that way. Reality has a way of getting in the way, no matter what we do.

Unschooling and trust – Sometimes I get it, and sometimes I don’t. I don’t know if I’m really all that great of a spokesperson for unschooling, although I talk about it a lot. Because it interests me, and it brings up questions that force us to look at things from more than one perspective. I like that. I like that about the unschooling articles and perspectives. It’s not the same ole stuff we see in Parents magazine, and in articles like “5 ways to get your kid to go to be on time so he can get up when you want him to.” I like unschooling because it asks – “WHY do we really want our kids to get up at a certain time?” Nowhere else do people even ask these questions. That’s why I like unschooling, because it asks the questions. But I don’t always agree with the answers.

To me, our approach is to ask all the questions. Ask the questions in all seriousness and consider all options, seriously. As if there is no right answer. To me, unschooling too often provides just another “right answer”. One that’s different than the answer that Parents magazine would come up with. Yet, still an answer.

In my perspective, it’s not about the answer at all. It’s about having the ability to ask the questions without feeling like we need other people to approve of our decision. And then coming up with an answer that belongs to us. Whether or not it falls under a category. And then later, if we find that we change our minds, or we found new info that makes it clear that we have a better choice, that it’s OK to change, even if that means we change our “category”. Even if it means admitting we made a mistake. Even it means saying to our friends, “we used to agree, but now we don’t. And that’s OK.”

Zen schooling is not about the answers, it’s about asking the questions.

So the question is – “What does trust mean to you?” When we answer this question, without worrying if we are answering it “correctly” or according to what a group, or person, thinks we should say, that’s when we’ve found our true way. That’s when we’ve found our own balance. And when we no longer will fit into any club, because we are truly and completely unique.

Perfectionism Is Not a Flaw

I’d like to write about perfectionism from a place of experience – my 6 year old daughter is a perfectionist. I used to be too. In fact, I still am, but being that I’m an adult, I don’t cry anymore. (Well, not as often, anyway.) I use other coping mechanisms. In the end, perfectionism is perfectionism.

First, I want to say that nothing is wrong with being a perfectionist. It’s a personality trait. And instead of looking at it like something’s wrong, think of it as something to work with, and to expect.

My daughter didn’t let me know she could read until she was able to do it with confidence. She doesn’t like to do classes or join groups that are doing things she’s hasn’t mastered already. She needs to watch for a while, have a chance to try it herself when nobody is looking, and maybe, later, she might participate. She also won’t write something if she thinks it’ll be wrong. She doesn’t like me pointing out when she’s done something wrong. She doesn’t like to make mistakes in front of people.

I was the same way as a kid. School didn’t help me one bit, BTW. Probably made it worse, because I got praise when I was perfect, and was told I wasn’t living up to my potential when I wasn’t. But there’s also an expectation to perform in school. And that was where I had a horrible time – I had to perform on things that I wasn’t perfect at. The memories I have of humiliation make me very understanding of how my daughter feels when she can’t be perfect in front of others.

What I’ve done for my daughter is to let her be her. If she doesn’t want to write because she can’t do it, I try to find another way she can express herself. Someone mentioned art, and it’s interesting – Allison loves art. I think indeed it is because there is no right way to be artistic. She doesn’t have to be perfect at it. Although, even with art, she does sometimes get really upset that her dog doesn’t look anything like a dog, or the dog she wanted to draw.

Letting her be, and letting her do the kind of work that she is comfortable with, has given her a lot of chances to feel good about herself, and to let her perfectionism shine through without being criticized for who she is. I don’t judge the value of her work on whether it’s perfect or not. But she is obviously happy when she can do something without being coerced into it. So I give her lots of support when she’s done something that she’s proud of. And when she makes mistakes, I don’t make a big deal about it.

For a while, she refused to write the number 9 or the letter P. She couldn’t remember which one went which way, so she wouldn’t do it. When she was doing a project or a workbook or something, and needed to write a 9 or P, she would ask me to do it, and so I did. If I didn’t, she would get upset, and either stop the project, or do the project crying. It’s more important to me that she feel good about her project. So I helped her.

Now, she’s almost 7, and she writes her 9’s and P’s about 50% of the time. She’ll even guess and write them backwards. When I point out they are backwards, she’ll change them without really thinking about it much. Or she’ll ask me to write it for her. No biggie. It’s really no biggie. And if I truly believe that, it rubs off on her. She’s starting to see that the pressure is coming from inside, not mommy. Gives her more of a perspective of how to manage.

I didn’t learn to manage my perfectionism until I was out of school, and realized that I had a choice. I still prefer perfect results, and I’m an overachiever for that reason. But after having time out of school, away from the external pressure to be perfect, and being an adult, able to see the difference between the two, I was able to figure out coping mechanisms that give me the satisfaction of being a perfectionist, while learning to be OK with my mistakes.

At 6, kids are still really little. They have lots of time to learn to write. And if she’s a perfectionist, she probably will want to wait until she’s figured it out before practicing and doing it in front of others. My daughter did that with reading, writing, math, gymnastics, pretty much everything so far – she will wait and wait until the time is right, and then on her own terms, she’ll come out doing what I thought she was neglecting all along. She wasn’t neglecting learning how to read or write or do a forward roll – she was waiting until she was ready.

I have learned to let my daughter go at her own pace. My main focus with her isn’t to teach her to read or to write or anything in specific – but to have a good relationship with herself and with the world around her. She’s so damn smart, that she won’t have any problem learning anything she sets her mind to. She’s shown me that. My job is to help her understand herself, accept herself and be comfortable in her skin. To accept her, love her and show her things in a way that lets her discover but not have to perform.

Working with who she is, is the easiest thing. It’s what I wanted when I was a kid, and it’s what finally got me through when I was an adult – to have found someone who was willing to say, “how you are is OK.” I hate being pressured into doing things I’m not comfortable with. It’s easy to persuade me to do things, even if I don’t want to, because even though I’m a perfectionist, I’m also a people-pleaser. That’s a hard combination to be. (Allison isn’t, thank goodness). What that meant as a kid, was that I was pressured into doing something (really often, heck, I was in school), and then I felt compelled to do it perfectly, even though I really didn’t want to do it. So I convinced myself I wanted to do it, and when it wasn’t perfect, hated myself for it – and the cycle went around and around. I’ve learned, as an adult, now to stand up for myself, and say “no” when I’m not comfortable, and when it’s something I know I can’t do. I still struggle with my perfectionism. It’s a life-management thing.

Another aspect of perfectionism is not wanting to disappoint others. Or one’s self. For my almost 7 year old daughter, the key is to find a way that she can get the thing done without disappointing herself. Distraction and redirection have helped with that.

My son came up with a GREAT way for my daughter to cope with 9’s. He said, “All you have to do is turn the paper upside down and write a 6. That makes it a 9.”

Perfectionists are wonderful kids to have because they make us look at the big picture, and stop being so darned focussed on the little things. It’s the big picture – relationships, many paths to success and being comfortable with who we are – those are the important things. If we got those, we can work it out. We can find our way. My perfectionist daughter taught me that. So did my crazy, “I’ll try anything at all, because I have no fear and no idea how dangerous this is” son and daughter. They taught me that all these personality differences and quirks and things that seem so annoying aren’t the important things. They are distractions from what’s real and important – being OK with who we are and playing with the cards we’ve been dealt. Every hand can win, it’s all a matter of what rules we play by.

Is It Worth It to Argue?

Ok, there are two blog posts I’m sitting on right now, not sure if I should post them.

One is a response to a particularly acidic blog post about how homeschooling isn’t working because her crying kids aren’t doing what she is asking them to, and is bitter that homeschooling isn’t a “honeymoon”.

The second is a question about unschooling and how could it possibly ever work and what the hell are these poor unschooled kids going to do when they “finally” are faced with the reality of having to do something other than play.

My question to myself – should I let it go? Or go ahead and answer?

It’s Talk Like a Pirate Day, so I’ll avaste and arrgh myself through the day today, while thinking about this.

Happy Talk Like a Pirate Day!