Vague Advice and the Flexibility of Unschooling

Sometimes I feel like I write with such vagueness.

I try to give as solid advice as I can, and to share as specifically as I'm able to what I've learned about unschooling by doing it. But when I look back at a lot of what I've written, sometimes I find myself thinking well yeah, what I'm saying is the truth as I see it, but is it specific enough to actually be helpful?

I'm guessing it is or people wouldn't read and like it, but sometimes I look at some of the other blogs out there, and admire how much they talk about Goals! And 10 steps to doing better at things! And so much detailed advice!

That envy never lasts though. Because when you're writing about unschooling, how can you say this is how you do it, no matter what specific "it" you're talking about? I can share what's worked in my own life, how I've approached learning myself, and that can be interesting and helpful for others, just as my reading about the experiences of others "uncolleging" can be helpful for me right now. But beyond that, unschooling is kind of all about figuring things out for yourself. As many ideas and resources and advice as I, or anyone else, shares, as much expertise on unschooling/life learning/uncollegeing and beyond any person claims to have or not have, ultimately it's just a vision of the possibilities available to you and your family. If we're to recognize how different each person (and each family and each community) is, we have to quickly realize that the more specific we get in talking about the how's, the less people are likely to find that actually works for them.

So I guess I'll just continue writing vaguely, or just talking about the very specific ways that have worked for me, personally. Because anything else, though it might make a more impressive post on occasion, just doesn't do justice to the truly personalized personalized journey that is unschooling.

Unschooling for Adults

Mostly what I write is aimed at unschoolers themselves (unschooling parents, teens, and grown unschoolers), and  potential unschoolers/those new to unschooling. But what about the people for whom unschooling, as in the practice of not going to elementary or high school and instead learning from life, is no longer an option, just because they’ve already finished with high school (sometimes quite a while ago)? For the schooled adults who discover unschooling and love what they see, and want to know how they can incorporate the ideas/ideals of unschooling into their own lives, this is the post for you.

Not being a schooled adult, I can’t swear this is the best advice for someone who was, but here are some things I think have the potential to make a difference in the way people approach learning in their own lives.

Forget everything you know about what is and isn’t “educational.” 

Most adults have a pretty set idea of what things are educational (things taught in school) and which things aren’t (things done for fun or leisure, aka things not taught in school). Learning is everywhere, if you’re looking for it, and there’s nothing that’s not worth your time to learn, as long as you want to be learning it! Spend your time learning about whatever you’re curious or passionate about, whether or not it seems particularly “useful” or “educational.”

Let go of any ideas you have about what the structure of learning is supposed to look like.

If you genuinely thrive on learning in a really structured and organized way, then go ahead and create your ideal curriculum, complete with scheduled study time for the next few months. But you can also just pick up a few books from the library to read whenever you feel like it, or spend time googling a subject in free moments between other commitments, or drop in to a local music jam whenever you want some help practicing. Learning can be as rigorous and structured or as relaxed and casual as you wish to make it. Learning doesn’t have to be pursued in a way that looks like school for it to be worthwhile.

I'm thinking of trying to find a fiddle teacher,
after wanting to play for many years.
Learning by myself isn't going as well as I'd hoped!

Learn to relax. 

There are times when unschoolers face the pressure to perform well, for sure: auditions and job interviews and university entrance exams. But for the most part, the meat of learning is done without someone looking critically over your shoulder, without the looming presence of quizzes and exams. Learning can be strictly for you, simply because you want to learn. Take a deep breath. Relax. Learning for the sake of learning can be really fun and exciting and rewarding.

There’s no end date to learning. 

“I am learning all the time. The tombstone will be my diploma.” Eartha Kitt

There’s a reason that quote has lived at the top of my blog for years. Its message resonates with me, and reminds me that it’s never too late to learn something. You’re not too old to learn X instrument, or to decide to memorize the times tables, or learn anything else that you’re “supposed” to learn young. For as long as you’re alive, you can keep on learning any damn thing you want to.

All of these are important things to remember, for schooled people and unschoolers alike (I can get caught up in other peoples' expectations of what learning is, too). But the "secret," if there is one, comes down to just working on eroding the imaginary line between living and learning. Life learning is what it's all about.

What is your advice for adults wanting to incorporate unschooling ideals into their lives? What have you felt was helpful in your own life?

Emotional Health and the Power of Choice, or Why Kids Should be Able to Avoid Things

I've mentioned previously in passing that I think one of the benefits of unschooling is in the space it gives people to learn to handle things at their own pace. But I don't think I've ever said more on the subject than that.

So here's me saying more.

I think unschooling helps people to grow up as more emotionally healthy people, in part by giving them the opportunity to not deal with shit when they can't handle it.

I think it's important for people to have the option to avoid things when that feels like the healthy thing to do. What I mean by this is, for example, what I often did growing up struggling with anxiety. When a place or an activity or a person just made me too anxious, I could choose not to go back to that place or activity for as long as it took me to no longer feel anxious about it (whether that was a week or two or forever).

For others, it could mean not having to continuously deal with places or social groups where they're bullied, or things that feel too overwhelming.

Non-schoolers of various stripes are often accused of sheltering their kids, and while the type of sheltering that includes no sex ed and only teaching creationism might be problematic, the type of "sheltering" I favour is that of children learning to protect themselves by not dealing with more than they're capable of handling. Being able to make that call, instead of having no choice but to go to a place every single day where you might feel extremely overwhelmed and anxious, depressed, or be bullied and abused, is powerful. I'm so grateful for that.

I'd like to think I'm happily avoiding things that made me anxious
by practicing keyboard here.

Then of course you get a whole bunch of people saying "then how will they ever learn to deal with difficult situations?!" My response is that, firstly, why should anyone be subjected to harm, whether that's physical or emotional, if it can in any way be avoided? And secondly, that difficult situations and people are simply impossible to avoid no matter how "sheltered" a person is. What you can do is:

1. Not deal with actual abuse. No one, no matter their age, should ever be forced to deal with abusive people and situations. Ever. 
2. Wait until you feel ready to deal with something. Maybe it's impossible to avoid, but you need a bit of time to think things through, and prepare yourself. Everyone deserves that breathing space, if they need it.
3. Avoid the things that just aren't necessary. Maybe a certain activity is full of people who just love drama. Maybe you don't feel it's worth it to go to that activity, because it provides more negatives then positives in your life. So you can just, you know, stop going.

Because ultimately, difficult things are impossible to entirely (or sometimes even mostly) avoid. Your friend groups will have fights and issues, you'll have to support your friend who's going through something really rough, relationships will end, you'll run into abusive people, and sometimes you'll feel that you have to deal with an environment that feels really toxic.

But what unschooling can do is let you avoid some of the worst situations and some of the unnecessary ones. It gives children and teens a lot of the same freedom adults have, to quit a job with an abusive boss or stop going to that quilting class where people keep talking behind other peoples' backs. 

I think that children and teens, when given that freedom, can't help but be at least a bit healthier, happier, and better equipped to deal with difficulties in more intentional ways. 

And really, isn't that what we should all be striving for?

Anxiety: A Memoir, or How Living With a Mental Illness Sucks

For a long time now I've been wanting to write this post. It's been rattling around for months now, as an idea, and as something I feel almost compelled to share before I can even think of writing other posts. But I haven't until now because, honestly, writing has felt so hard, and this subject is so scary. It's a real baring of my most intimate life and insecurities, and there's always the terror of  not knowing how people will react.

But now it's mental health awareness week in the US. It isn't here in Canada: our mental health awareness week is in May, apparently. But seeing posts about mental illness starting this week from various networks of mine, it felt like a sign, or perhaps more just the final push I needed.

I have a (or more than one) anxiety disorder. As for what precisely in that category of various anxiety based disorders I live with, who knows. I think generalized anxiety disorder sounds most accurate, my GP thinks panic disorder and maybe obsessive compulsive disorder. I haven't sought the official diagnosis of a psychiatric professional for some very good reasons that I don't want to get into here. And really, I don't particularly care. I only care that I can say "I have an anxiety disorder" because it can help me find people who understand, and because I really hope that people will take me seriously (though with how shitty people dealing with mental illness are often treated, I'm probably hoping in vain). I'm not just kind of stressed, or worried, or what have you. I'm anxious. All the time.

I've been making a conscious effort in the past year to be more open about my anxiety, but I find myself easily slipping into talking about it in a colder, more detached way, or simply in a super brief and non-explanatory way. I have an anxiety disorder. I deal with a lot of anxiety. It's not actually that hard to say that. What's hard is talking about what that actually means in my life.

I've struggled with anxiety for most of my life. As a small child, I can remember holding my pee for hours when I was out, because I desperately didn't want to use the public toilet. When I eventually did, if any part of myself, my clothing, or my bag so much as brushed any part of the toilet (or perhaps even worse, the sanitary napkin disposal box), I would just shut down. Any further enjoyment I might have gotten out of the day was ruined, and I'd barely interact with anyone after that if I could help it. Because internally it was all about that moment of contact in the bathroom, paying attention to everything that that contaminated part of my skirt then touched: side of hand, purse, knee. So that I could make sure that I washed everything that was contaminated once I got home. When other children would come over to visit, I'd hang around near the bathroom door when they used it, to make sure I heard them wash their hands (and would go to my mother panicking if I didn't hear those taps go on).

As you're probably starting to realize, anxiety around cleanliness has always been a big thing with me. Health, too, relatedly (those "signs of a heart attack everyone should know!" things that go around the internet are really hard for me, as hearing about horrible diseases/illnesses I might have often leads to my having to spend several hours or more talking myself through my anxiety, and convincing myself I'm almost certainly not dying of something awful). And really, when it comes to cleanliness related anxiety, I've gotten a whole lot better. I learned, over the years, how to cope a lot better, and there are plenty of things that no longer bother me at all. There are still lots of things I do on a daily basis, lots of habits, that keep my anxiety about cleanliness specifically at bay, but the only time I have major meltdowns or shutdowns about it are when I'm already struggling: almost always when I'm away from home (the place I get to have control over, minimizing triggering things), tired, in a new or especially stressful environment. When those breakdowns do happen, it can be discouraging realizing I maybe haven't come as far as I'd thought I had, but I try to focus instead on how very much progress I have made.

Which is really part of the reason this past year has been so difficult. I stopped writing so much on this blog because, as I said about a year ago, unschooling and alternative/radical education is no longer something I feel as passionately about. Or, more accurately, I'm just not interested enough in it any longer to focus as much time on the subject as I had been. But I didn't mean to drop this blog as completely as I did. That happening has more to do with how much my mental health went down the toilet last winter, and has stayed at pretty much toilet levels since then.

It confused me, at first, because my primary relationship to anxiety has always been through the specific areas of cleanliness and health, yet my anxiety around those things has been at fairly steady levels for years. That didn't really get worse. But the constant fairly low-ish levels of anxiety I was used to living with started going up. And when the anxiety you constantly. Feel. All. The. Time. Gets to a certain point, you start to no longer be able to deal with even the smallest stressors, and even getting out of bed, getting dressed, and leaving the house start to be really, really hard. Anxiety has always made those things more difficult for me than for plenty of other people, it's seemed, but this seemed to be new levels of difficult, or at least more difficult than I'd experienced in years.

Physical health problems I'd dealt with in small ways for years started getting worse and worse, until I finally realized that it wasn't normal to constantly feel weak, to wake up never feeling rested, for my shoulders to be constantly knotted in lines of tension, for my heart to regularly race, to feel dizzy, shaky, and short of breath every single day. The multiple headaches (some mixture of tension and migraine headaches) a week I've been experiencing for years started to feel harder and harder to deal with. I didn't know what was wrong with me, physically, because I never imagined mental illness could have such a huge physical effect.

When I was a teenager, I'd sometimes get panic attacks. For those who've never gotten one before, it's a feeling of absolute terror, like you're dying. My heart would race, I couldn't breath, I'd have hot and cold sweats, shake violently, and yet with all of that also feel the strangest sense of detachment (which I quickly learned was known as "disassociation"), as if I was removed from my body. My previous experience with panic attacks made it confusing for me now, as I wasn't having full-blown attacks so felt my anxiety couldn't be *that* bad, even if the fear of having one still came regularly with a racing heartbeat, lying in bed in those hours between 2 and 4 am, when everything is too still and all your fears can find you. But because I could talk myself down enough for the panic to not get that bad, I felt my anxiety couldn't be all that bad, right?

Until a scary and embarrassing 911 call, made when my hands cramped up so badly from hyperventilating that I couldn't move them at all. That, and seeing a doctor, something terrifying and difficult and a decision made when the terror of not knowing what was going on with my body outweighed the terror of seeing a new doctor, made me realize that I'd literally been hyperventilating daily, for weeks, and just been unaware of it. Tingling hands, shortness of breath, dizziness? Just a regular fixture of everyday life, and also likely what's known as limited symptom attacks.

It was hard to realize that most of the health problems I've been dealing with are almost certainly anxiety related. And it has been difficult, yet also felt very important and healing, to finally, finally stop minimizing and dismissing my struggles. After years of going it's not so bad. Other people have it worse. I mean, I'm not *really* ill. Years of missed opportunities and meltdowns and regrets all because of anxiety. To finally be honest with myself, and say: this is a problem, I'm sick, and neither ignoring it nor putting myself down for it is helpful or healthy.

And about a month after making that conscious decision, I am doing a little bit better. I'm hyperventilating a lot less, and getting better at stopping the panic faster. I've tried out some meds to help reduce the amount of headaches I get. I feel like recognizing I have an illness and realizing I need to make conscious, deliberate steps to improve my health has been a bit of a turning point, and I'm doing better. Not good, but better.

And now I find myself turning outwards, not being solely focused on internal struggles, but also wanting to communicate my struggles, explain to people what's going on. Which is scary, not the least of which because people often react in really unhelpful ways. Without knowing about my illness, people have been saying hurtful things for years. As I wrote in a Facebook note about a year ago, my first time publicly talking about my anxiety:

people say the most hurtful shit to me, without having the faintest clue how hurtful it is. People crack jokes about me being a clean freak, tell me I should have a clipboard/respond with a “yes boss”/otherwise imply I’m being unreasonable and bossy, and similarly make an issue of my saying “that’s not clean” or “please wash your hands” or “please don’t put that on the table.” Which makes me feel really bad, to the point that sometimes I feel like bursting into tears (though luckily I generally manage not to). I feel really self-conscious about how others see me and my anxiety, and the best possible reaction is for people to at the very least act like they don’t find anything I’m doing, or politely requesting that they do, odd. I don’t want people to notice my anxiety, and I REALLY don’t want to be mocked for it. My family can make jokes about it without it being hurtful, but unless you know me well enough to feel you have a really good idea of whether I’ll be hurt by your joke or not, you shouldn't make it.

It's easy for people to make such comments in ignorance, because if I don't tell people about my anxiety, they don't know. I'm good at hiding it. Seeing as I've struggled with it since I was 6 or 7, you could say I have a lot of practice. I've carried on conversations with people while hyperventilating, my hands shaking heart racing, and they can't tell anything is wrong at all.

But even when I tell people, even when they do know, people say the most insensitive things. Become Buddhist! Try meditating! Just take deep breaths! Don't worry! All of which, to someone who's been constantly anxious for almost as long as they can remember, can feel like a slap in the face. Thank you, it never occurred to me to just take deep breaths. And offering meditation alone as a "cure" feels to me like handing a bandaid to someone with blood gushing from their slashed femoral artery and saying that will make it all better! 

I'm not saying that religion or meditation or mantras or many other things can't help people deal with their anxiety, because it can, but for someone without anxiety to think they can solve someone else's extremely difficult struggle with a perky suggestion of a lifestyle change, as if it was that easy, feels more insulting and hurtful than anything else.

Now as I come to the end of this post, I'm trying to feel out what the purpose of writing this is. And it's that I'm trying to be more open about this struggle, because hiding it makes me feel worse, not better. Because I hope that by sharing this struggle, as someone whom apparently other people admire, I hope people carrying stigmas about those with mental illness can examine any prejudices they might hold. And because I know how very, very helpful it has been for me to know I'm not alone in these experiences, and I hope that other people can know that too.

I'll be okay. I have supportive people in my life, and I don't want any of you kind people to worry. I just wanted, as always, to share.

Learning Advice from a Learning Life

Learning is something very personal and very individual, so having found myself being asked for generalized learning advice, I find myself both eager to share but hesitant about what to share!

So I'll simply do what I always strive to do: write from personal experiences. Share what I've found to be important in my own learning and in my own life, and hope that others can find it relatable or otherwise helpful. Much of this seems really obvious, yet at the same time I've never actually sat down and attempted to list all the things I find most important in my own learning, and seeing it all laid out like this is proving really interesting and revealing to me...

Be comfortable learning just enough and nothing more

Read the Wikipedia article, and if you're satisfied with that, stop. Go by your interest level, and don't feel an obligation to learn a lot about a subject if you're not interested in doing so.

Be comfortable focusing on one subject to the exclusion of (almost) all else

Sometimes digging deep and truly immersing yourself in something can be a wonderfully rewarding experience, and leaves you with a very deep knowledge of something or a high level of skill. If something seems wonderful enough to you to do that, go for it.

Learn alone

Books are great. So is the internet. So are solitary walks in the woods.

Self-taught ukulele player

Seek out groups, teachers, or mentors to learn

Sometimes learning with other people really feels best (for some people often, others, rarely). Whether it's in a group where big interesting discussions can happen, or finding a teacher who can help you gain the level of skill you want to have, learning with other people can be wonderful. There's nothing that says just because you're a self-directed learner you can't direct yourself towards lots of other people!

Don't force it

If you find yourself reading the same paragraph half a dozen times because you're just not taking it in, stop. Put the book down. Maybe permanently, maybe just until the next day if it seems interesting again then. But I do find, in my experience at least, that anything I've ever had to choke down or really force myself through, I've forgotten. Every single time. That doesn't mean you might not want to force yourself through a boring chapter in an otherwise interesting book on occasion, or get through a not-so-interesting article online because it's the only place you've found to get that specific information you want. Just that if you're really not enjoying something and there's nothing forcing you to do it (as in, you're not studying for a test you really want to pass), then give up. If you're not enjoying it and not taking it in, what's the point?

Learn to quit

We live in a society that despises "quitters," and we're reminded of this in small ways on a very regular basis. Quitting is usually equated with "failure" (something else we're taught to avoid at all cost), when in fact quitting is sometimes the best and healthiest thing to do. If you thought you wanted to learn ballroom dancing, but then find you hate ballroom dancing class with a passion, stop going. If you loved a subject deeply and spent all your time studying it, but now find yourself no longer feeling it's draw, find something else you want to devote your time to. If everything you've been doing for years has been towards achieving a specific goal, yet you come to the realization that that's no longer a goal that will make you happy, let go of it. This is a lot harder in practice than in theory, but I know I've found much happiness when I realize something's no longer working for me, no longer what I want, and choose to let go.

Ask for help

Even for unschoolers, who usually strive to learn from their community, asking for help can be hard (or at least it can be for this perfectionist unschooler!). But I've had to come to realize that sometimes, you really do need to just ask for help. People are usually very happy to oblige in sharing something they know about and enjoy doing!

Teacher-taught Highland snare drummer

Don't fear mistakes

Again, this is something that even unschoolers can struggle with. Personally, I generally hate learning brand new skills in groups, because I feel really self-conscious about not being good at something, and making mistakes in front of others. But as for the above, sometimes you really need to learn with and around others, and mistakes aren't something to be ashamed of.

Don't compare yourself to others

I fail at this one all the time, yet I always strive to do better at it. Don't compare your body of knowledge to other people, your level of skill in specific subjects, how long it takes you to learn something, or how you learn something. It won't help and it will most likely leave you feeling self-conscious and inadequate (or the reverse, and give you the mistaken idea you're smarter or better than someone else, instead of just that you have different strengths).

Don't let others' ideas about the right way to learn get in your way

If a particular way of learning something suggested by a friend, a teacher, a parent, or a book is working for you, awesome. But just because somebody says that X way is the best way to learn, doesn't mean it's the best way for you. Experiment, be flexible, be suspicious of anyone who says there's only one way to learn anything, and most importantly just go with what works for you.

What have you found helpful to keep in mind when it comes to your own learning? What advice would you give to others? As usual, I love hearing what you all have to say!

What About College?

I’ve been asked some variation on “are you going to college?” more times than I can count, and I don’t generally give a more elaborate answer than “no.” Occasionally, when pressed, I say that what I want to be doing (cooking!) doesn’t require a degree. Or that I’m doing more interesting things (to me) than going to school. But when I was asked that question online recently, I finally wrote a response that explains in more detail why I’m not going to university*, and that response has been re-worked into this post. You can also find this article posted over at Cooperative Catalyst.

So, am I ever going to go to university?

I don’t like to say never, because lots of things change, but I definitely can’t see myself going to university full time or for a degree in the foreseeable future. I’m sort of vaguely considering just taking a class or two sometime in the next year, or maybe, possibly, going to culinary school at some point, but I haven’t really made any decisions on either of those possibilities yet.

Why don’t I want to go?

As for why I don’t plan on going to university full-time, I have many reasons. A list of bullet-point reasons, even.

• There is nothing I want to be doing right now as a job or “career” or whatever that would require a degree, so the only reason (and this is a good reason to go to university for many people!) would be for pure enjoyment/learning purposes, which leads me to…
• I’m not very into more academic subjects, as a rule. Most of the things I enjoy doing tend to be really tactile and immediate. I like cooking and gardening and having one-on-one conversations. Sure, I like reading about feminism and social justice and radical education. Hell, a major focus of my life for a few years was reading and talking and writing about unschooling! But I sort of feel that what I really want and need to be doing in my life right now is just that: doing, not studying.
• I don’t enjoy learning-for-the-sake-of-learning (and having said that I swear I can almost hear a horrified gasp from lots of people in my unschooling community). For me to enjoy and take in information or learn a skill well, it has to feel genuinely important and relevant in my life and/or the lives of the people close to me, my community, etc. I’m very happily reading through a large book on fermentation (Sandor Ellix Katz is awesome) because I want to be fermenting more foods and beverages. I’m going to pick up a really awesome looking book (The Forager’s Harvest by Samuel Thayer) on wild edibles soon, because I want to be foraging a lot more with my sister come spring. Social justice issues, radical politics, and radical sustainability are important because I want to be a good person, act in as kind and non-oppressive a way as possible, live in a genuinely sustainable way, etc. University has always seemed to me to be so incredibly removed from the rest of the world, and I really don’t want that, or think that that removal is generally a healthy thing.
• I hate how inaccessible academia is. Both the price, though that is at least less of an issue where I am than many other places**, but also the very language and culture of universities and academia. Though I’ve seen and been bothered by this on multiple occasions, a specific instance that stands out to me was one time when I was at a talk, and this one dude just started bringing up objections and questions in the most ridiculously academic language you can imagine, and referencing books and authors I’d never heard of. As the conversation between the speaker (an academic herself) and the audience member continued, I had absolutely no clue what they were talking about. And I say this as someone who is generally read as well educated (by people unaware of my being an unschooler, since then of course folks start to think otherwise), a native English speaker, and someone usually considered skilled with words. It just hit me very profoundly that if this seemed inaccessible to me, how much more inaccessible is it to so very many other people? It just doesn’t sit right with me.
• Also, when I think of being in classrooms for some four years or more, I feel like I’d be trapped. I’m literally mildly horrified at the idea. It does not sound appealing at all.

There are more personal reasons, and there are far more nuanced critiques of the institution of university to be found out there. But from my perspective, those things are a very good overview of why I have no plans or desire to go to university.

Really, there are so many more interesting (to me) things I want to be doing right now in my life, things that are relevant and exciting and hands-on. No classrooms needed.

*I say university not “college” because here in Quebec, college (also known as CEGEP) is a between high school and university thing, and is not synonymous with university.

**In Quebec the average tuition per year is $2,519 (source: http://www.statcan.gc.ca/tables-tableaux/sum-som/l01/cst01/educ50f-eng.htm)

The Frustration of Being That Unschooled Person

You know, sometimes I'm overwhelmed simply by how much my priorities, ways of relating to others, and just myself in general, has changed this past year.

One big shift in priorities being the decision to no longer be as involved, online or other places, in unschooling advocacy as I have been in the past, of course. Because at this point? I just get so damn frustrated all the time with the way people look at and treat me, with their swift and wildly inaccurate assumptions, rude queries, and possibly worst of all, simply how much of who I am and how I behave is attributed only and completely to the fact I was unschooled  (am? I'm uncertain what educational labels I currently want to identify with). Especially when it's people who I think are cool and want to get to know better, people I consider part of my community, who seem to be (most likely subconsciously) doing this. It can feel remarkably hurtful to be reduced to nothing more than That Unschooled Person, whether deliberately or not.

Luckily, most of the folks I consider cool to start with really are nice folk, so that phase passes, but it's still pretty frustrating when it feels like this has to happen with most (though not all) of the more traditionally educated people I meet and get to know.

And yes, I do recognize that this happens for many different reasons to many different people. I could just as easily be That Anarchist Person or That Queer Person, I guess.  But, that doesn't really happen to me personally. It's always about unschooling.

I am just so tired of dealing with all that shit.

_________________

I was at a fundraising party for a cool art space last night, and the one unpleasant event to mar the evening was a person, upon finding out I'd never been to school, who somehow imagined it was appropriate to turn to me and ask me a math question. Everyone else at the table I was sitting at seemed as taken aback as I was! 

I got those types of very rude and condescending questions frequently while growing up, but this is the first time in several years that that's happened to me. I'm 21. You'd think that, even to the folks who justify being that rude to kids, that they'd realize that type of behavior SERIOUSLY crosses the bounds of politeness when dealing with adults.  I don't mean to imply that this type of behavior is more appropriate when it's aimed towards kids, and as an adult I certainly have a much easier time handling stuff like that. But it most definitely is more surprising and unpleasantly unexpected!

My response was simply and truthfully that I decided years ago not to answer any quiz questions people rudely asked me.

And hey, I gave them my blog address, so maybe they'll wander on over here and gain a better perspective on what unschooling is, and maybe even behave in a much more respectful manner to the next unschooler they meet.

_________________

For those wondering, no, my new level of frustration with dealing with other people's shit does not mean I regret unschooling. It does mean that I just wish people would get over it already, though.  I thought by now I'd be done with all the annoying questions and reactions, and it's slightly depressing to realize otherwise. I find myself wondering if people will still be quizzing me on my math skills when I'm 40, or if by then they'll be too busy attempting to quiz my own kids, no matter how old they are, and scolding me for being so irresponsible as to unschool them.

_________________

Believe it or not, to give a bit of a life update, I continue to be really happy.  Life is good.  But this blog keeps floating through my head, demanding some acknowledgement, and pouring out a few recent  frustrations felt, for better or for worse, like a cathartic thing to do! 

Me being happy. See, I told you I was!

For the last couple of months, I've been volunteering with what's essentially a catering kitchen, that works to support a really cool new art and community space called Le Milieu.  It's a great project and group of people, and I'm so happy to be involved!

I've also been thinking, recently, about maybe taking a university course or two. Thinking about how much easier my life would be if I could just go through the bit of bureaucracy needed to get into university, and then check "university" off in the next set of little education boxes I need to mark. No longer would I confuse any government or otherwise bureaucratic organization, seeing how I seem all "educated" and whatnot, but not having that piece of paper to prove I'm good at memorizing shit and am thus truly "educated."  It shouldn't matter, and almost always it doesn't end up mattering, but it does take longer and lead to more confusion than I like dealing with. I don't know if I will end up taking a couple of classes, but it definitely is something I'm considering.

And in the meantime, I'll continue to do what I've been doing: work in kitchens, experiment with fermenting various things, hang out with friends, read good books, spend way too much time shopping in thrift stores (though not too much money, since I am pro at this), play music, ponder moving closer to all the action (aka downtown Montreal instead of the outskirts), and generally enjoy life.  I think that's a very good plan.

Occupy Education Conference Talk

I wrote a fairly short introductory talk on unschooling for an event that happened last weekend, the Occupy Education conference. The attendees were a mix of homeschooling and unschooling parents, striking university students (there's a pretty incredible social movement going on here in Quebec. Google "Quebec student strike" and you'll find lots of info!), and educators. It went really well. Lots of interesting group and one-on-one discussions! And since most readers couldn't be there, I wanted to at least share the talk I wrote. It's nothing I haven't said before, but I hope you'll enjoy reading it nonetheless.

My name is Idzie, and I'm a kindergarten drop-out.

The early years

When my parents first took me out of school, they had the idea that they'd homeschool me. And most people have at least a vague idea of what homeschooling is (though they usually also have a whole bunch of misconceptions). Instead of being taught by teachers, kids are taught by their parents. Usually at least some curriculum, bought or put together by the parents, is used, and, to a greater or lesser extent, depending on the family, you do school at home. That's the idea that we started with. But my mother always trusted a lot in the innate ability of children to learn, so from the beginning we were very relaxed homeschoolers, and by that I mean that there wasn't a curriculum that my sister (who also didn't go to school) and I were expected to, but my parents still expected us to work on certain "school" subjects, namely math.

As we grew older, those expectations started to dissapear, and I finally said no, I'm no longer going to use those math textbooks, which is when I'd say we truly became unschoolers. I was probably around 10 or 11.

What is unschooling?

Unschooling, on the other hand, is something that people know less about.  It can be described in several different ways, all accurate, just different. I've decided to share this passage from my blog, slightly changed from the original, because I think it's the most thorough description of unschooling that I've ever written.

Version #1: Unschooling, which is considered a type of homeschooling, is student directed learning, which means the child or teen learns whatever they want, whenever they want. Learning is entirely interest driven, not dictated or directed by an external curriculum, by teachers, or by parents. For an unschooler, life is their classroom.

Version #2: Unschooling requires a paradigm shift, one in which you must stop looking at the world as a series of occurrences/resources/experiences etc. that can be learned from, and a series that can’t.  The world doesn’t divide neatly into different subjects, and you can’t tell right from the outset what a seemingly unimportant question, interest, or TV show obsession will lead to.  I learn from every aspect of my life, every activity I do, be it discussing politics with a friend, gardening, reading a novel, or simply daydreaming. Unschooling, at its heart, is nothing more complicated or simple than the realization that life and learning are not two separate things.  And when you realize that living and learning are inseparable, it all starts to truly make sense.

A rise in popularity

Unschooling, or life learning, as some prefer to call it, is the oldest type of learning there is. It existed long before anyone came up with the idea of putting everyone under a certain age into a single building, deciding that they'd best learn how to function in the rest of the world by staying in that building for a number of years. Even the modern unschooling movement has been around since the 70s (when the term "unschooling" was coined by John Holt), yet I've seen a marked increase in interest in this philosophy in my lifetime, and especially in the last few years. There's been a lot more media attention, with a myriad of TV spots and articles from sources across North America. More unschooling conferences are popping up, and people are even starting to recognize the term, even if they're still not sure what it means! I feel this increased interest is a very positive thing, and shows how dissatisfied so many people are with the current system.

Misconceptions and important questions

With the added exposure to unschooling--usually exposure that's presented in a very misleading and sensationalized way--comes a lot of misconceptions about the concept, and it gives rise to a ton of different questions. I'd like to address a few of the ones I've encountered most frequently, just to get them out of the way right from the beginning!

Many people think because unschooling parents or caregivers don't enforce an educational structure on their children, that unschooling automatically means there is no structure, which isn't true at all. Since unschooling puts learning into the hands of the learners themselves, they can and do choose as much or as little structure as they personally want. Thus, from the outside, it might even look like what some unschoolers are doing is school: with a curriculum, a schedule, and classes they take through their homeschool co-op. The difference is that that structure is freely chosen by the learner. They've decided that's the way they learn best, and the way they feel happiest learning. By the same token, unschooling parents may suggest various classes or structured activities, and the learner is free to say yes or no. Unschooling doesn't mean no textbooks or classes, it just means no textbooks or classes unless you want them!

It's also common to believe that, because unschooling parents don't usually "teach" their children (though they may if their children ask them to), that they're uninvolved in their lives and in their learning, which couldn't be further from the truth! Unschooling parents are generally extremely involved, helping their children navigate the world, exposing them to interesting things, helping them access various resources from books to classes to mentors, and in many cases simply sharing in the discovery and wonder their children experience in their daily lives.

And sometimes, people like to say that unschooling would only work with motivated individuals. That only a few especially intelligent or special people could "succeed" with unschooling. And I really couldn't disagree more! I'm not especially motivated or especially special (though I suppose it's flattering that so many people seem to think so). What people fail to realize is that, if nothing gets in the way of the joy, people really love learning. Humans are good at learning, and, empowered by how trusted they are with their own education, unschoolers are motivated to learn. So it's not that motivated people are particularly suited to unschooling, but that unschooling creates motivated people. That learning may not always, or even often, look like the education you'd find in school, but it's most definitely learning.

"If kids get to choose what they do, all they'll ever do is play video games and read comics!", people say, which doesn't take several things into account. First, that those activities have worth, and much can be learned from them. I've heard of some kids who learned to read by reading video game manuals, and my sister has spent quite a bit of time in the past studying Japanese, thanks to an interest in Japanese culture sparked by Manga (so, basically, comic books). The second is that no one wants to do only one thing forever. Unschoolers may go through stages where it seems ALL that they're doing is one thing and one thing only. For a couple of years most of what I did was read novels. Eventually, I started wanting to do other things as well, and, in large part, I credit that time of intense and voracious devouring of books with the skills in writing I have now. It was all-consuming, but it was okay. It was good. Sometimes, people learn best by focusing on one thing for a while.

People also sometimes tell me that learning is hard, and kids don't like to do hard things. Yet babies learn to walk and talk without any forcing, something I'm sure is incredibly difficult. We're driven to be part of the world we find ourselves in, and are drawn to learning the skills we need to function in it. Sometimes learning feels easy, and sometimes it feels hard. Sometimes learning, whether it's harder or easier, is fun, and sometimes it's less fun. But if it seems important and relevant in our lives, and if we have the confidence and support needed to do so, we will learn what we need to learn. Though, again, it may not be on the timeline expected from those in school. I learned to read at age 8 or 9, "late" by many peoples' count, but it hasn't harmed my ability to read or write at all.

Where I am now

Now, as a grown unschooler, freedom-based education and unschooling in particular has become quite important to me. I write a blog about unschooling, I speak at conferences and similar events, and I try to share what knowledge I have on the subject in hopes it'll help others searching for an entirely different way of looking at learning and education. I'm also extremely passionate about food, growing it and cooking it and sharing it with others. Next year I plan to leave home and spend the year living in various rural areas, and working on organic farms. Eventually, I want to be involved in building a radically sustainable intentional community. I'm interested in feminism, non-hierarchal organizing and collective decision making, travel, and writing. There's still a fairly big gap between where I am now in my life and where I want to be, but I feel I'm heading in the right direction. Contrary to what some believe when they hear of unschooling, I do not and never have hated my parents for not sending me to school, or not "making" me learn. Instead, I'm incredibly grateful to them for the freedom I was given, and feel that because of that freedom, I had the time and space to figure out a lot of important things about myself, about the world, and about where I fit (and want to fit) in that world. And that's an important thing to know!

In conclusion   

If there's something from the philosophy of unschooling that I most want people to get, it's a realization of how capable humans are: children of learning, and parents and caregivers of assisting their children in learning. We don't need large institutions to teach us, or corporations to sell us "educational material," or governments, institutions, or corporations to tell us what we need to be learning. We're capable, as individuals, as families, and as communities, of controlling our own learning and our own lives. In empowering us with this knowledge, I truly believe unschooling as a philosophy has great potential in helping us to really change the world and how we live in it.