Anyone can come to my house and meet my kid and talk to him about
unschooling. Anyone can see my extensive dust collection, my stupid
dog, my hideous, pinching pigeon. That's all stuff I've talked about
here. I'm a real person, with a real kid. If I could make my scanner
work I'd put his picture up.
I don't know how I could help anyone thinking about unschooling if they
couldn't see into my life and as much as it's possible from an e-mail
list, see that the words I type are lived out here first, with a genuine
I'm in Deer Lodge, Montana. Anyone can come and visit.
We played at the river yesterday. We threw rocks at floating ice chunks
until we couldn't feel our fingers any more. We had a snowball fight.
We went sledding. We watched "Attack of the Crab Monsters" and read
about dinosaurs. We played Master Labyrinth and chess. We stood on our
heads. We made peanut butter and bird seed surprise for the Flickers.
Today we're going to Grandma's house. She's making fresh tortillas and
we'll visit with Dylan's uncle because he's flying back to Anchorage on
Monday. We'll probably watch a movie there, too. I'll make a pan of
fudge to take along.
My real and happy kid says a lot more about unschooling than I could ever
convey by analyzing human nature. If I'm afraid to talk about my real
unschooling life, how will I single-handedly change the world for the
better? I've printed out my super hero license and I've sewn my Tick
suit. Now, Evildoers, Eat My Justice!