<simple339014@...>

As a new unschooler, I am working toward being less of a "helicopter parent" and more of a watch-from-a-distance parent. While I *think* the latter is best, I, often times, *feel* the need to be a helicopter parent. I understand that this habit is solely fear-based and I am now choosing to move away from fearful thinking and reacting.

I think back to my childhood and reminisce about all of the free time I had riding my bike wherever I wanted, playing in the woods, building forts and climbing trees, making decisions and learning from them.  Some were painful or scary, some were empowering.  I learned what worked, how to interact within a group of kids, what would get me in trouble and how to befriend people. Nobody was watching me and I'm fine. Never did one of my parents step in and ask other kids to play with me! I see this all the time at the park. Why is this generation obsessed with safety and "fairness" when it comes to our kids?  Until recently, I have been extremely safety-conscious (paranoid?) and trust me, it's exhausting! Wanting the best for my child is an extremely powerful catalyst for change.  Along with that, being able to live with more peace and trust and joy.

My husband emailed me a link to this video about adventure playgrounds that are gaining popularity in the UK. These look like wonderful places, that just months ago, I wouldn't have considered letting my 8 yr. old son even go near! These playgrounds encourage the "risky play" that is so frowned upon these days. At first, it might look like a junkyard of sorts, but think back to your childhood and see it through your 8 yr. old eyes; its beautiful!  These video clips are from a documentary called The Land (which is the name of an adventure playground in Wales). I'm not sure when it is coming out, but I can't wait to see the whole thing. I just hope the idea catches on in the USA!
http://vimeo.com/89009798
http://playfreemovie.com/trailer/

Mel

Joyce Fetteroll


On Mar 21, 2014, at 5:05 PM, simple339014@... wrote:

I am working toward being less of a "helicopter parent" and more of a
watch-from-a-distance parent. While I *think* the latter is best

Those phrases aren't well defined. It's hard to steer towards or away from something that's vague. Which is why you're not sure.

You're looking for a blanket rule about how all parents can act towards all kids. But different kids have different needs.

What all kids do want is the freedom to try things and learn from what doesn't work. *And* they want help when they need help. But what that will look like for an individual child will depend on the child. It will depend on the context.

That's not much guidance for parents who are trying to stop hovering or those who are trying to be closer! ;-)

"Get to know your kids to find out what they need" is probably the principle that separates radical unschooling parenting from conventional parenting.

Be there to step in when kids are in imminent danger. Be there to step in when kids are hurting each other. Be attuned to what each of your kids needs from you and be close enough to provide it.

The bad part of the "helicopter parent" is the kids don't get the opportunity to try things, to learn from what doesn't work. They have mom second guessing them, doing the right answer for them. The bad part of "distance parenting" is that human relationships are more complex than anyone should have to figure out on their own. And sometimes kids (people really) get so focused on what's in front of them that they miss the danger in the big picture.

I learned what worked, how to interact within a group of kids, 
what would get me in trouble and how to befriend people. 

Observing what works and doesn't work in social behavior comes more naturally to extroverts. Introverts tend to get too self-conscious to be conscious of others. As an introvert tossed into the social pool, to me how you acted towards other people didn't seem like a choice. It seemed like people acting according to their personalities. 

Why is this generation obsessed with safety and "fairness" when it comes to our kids? 

Perhaps because they felt the lack of both growing up? Perhaps. It's what often happens with the social pendulum. When it swings too far one way, the reaction is often a strong pull the other way ... that goes too far. It's a mistake to then react by pulling back to the original way. Think more about what each of *your* kids need rather than what other parents are doing wrong.

Joyce

<princessjasmine05@...>

I agree with Joyce.  Unschooling is much more nuanced than the dichotomy between helicopter parenting or parenting from a distance.  With my five year old son, I definitely stay close at the playground.  He sometimes has difficulty approaching other children, so often I give him some ideas or suggestions, or approach the children myself and ask if he can join their game.  He can get angry and lash out at other children if the play doesn't go a specific way, particularly if he is playing pretend with other people.  So I need to be there to keep anyone from getting hurt, and to help him think of ways to incorporate other kids' ideas into the game.  I try to support him in the ways he needs support.  

My six year old daughter is much more attuned socially, though certain situations aren't ideal for her, either. She tends to meet one other girl and want to hang out with her exclusively.  The dynamics of group play don't seem to work well for her most of the time.  So I am there to play with her if she doesn't find another girl she likes.  Sometimes she ends up talking a lot to other adults, so I check in with them and make sure they are comfortable and also to let them know she is with an adult and being watched.  She does tend to wander the playground independently, though, unlike my son.  I just keep an eye on her general location and check in with her periodically.  

I am sure they would both learn a lot about social situations, even if I weren't there to help guide them through the difficult spots.  But it might not be all positive learning.  Instead of learning that it's important to include other kids' ideas into the game, my son might learn that he is mean or can't make friends.  Instead of learning ways to approach other kids, he might learn that nobody wants to play with him.  He is a very sensitive kid, and I would rather he not learn those things.  My daughter can be very pushy at times, which tends to work itself out on the playground; but if I check in with her and see a kid she is playing with is uncomfortable with the game I will speak up for that child and stay closer to make sure it doesn't keep happening.  I don't want her to learn that it's ok to push someone around even if they don't like it, as long as they let you do it.  

And I do think Adventure Playgrounds are wonderful!  There is one in Berkeley, CA, and I took my kids there this past January while we were visiting family.  I explored the place alongside my six year old daughter.  My son hung out with his dad.  We were there with another family, whose 5 year old daughter goes to school, and she wanted to find a private play space away from her mom.  My six year old was happy to be with me, and I was happy to be with her.  It was nice.  When she does want to play away from me, I honor that.  When she wants to be with me, I treasure it.  I know it won't last forever.  

Lydia Koltai



Lisa Celedon

<< I am working toward being less of a "helicopter parent" and more of a watch-from-a-distance parent.>>

I had a friend casually say to me, as I was assisting and then standing under my then 18 month old son as he climbed up a ladder, "You know, I've always just watched [son] from a bench.  I've never been into that whole helicopter parent thing.  If he doesn't know how to climb a ladder and falls off, he learns he's not ready for ladders."

I think there is a difference between anxiously hovering around your child, interfering and intervening with what they are trying to do, and being there as they want and need you there.  When my first son was a toddler, I was very relaxed with letting him explore things like trees and slides and ladders and bouncy bridges.  I was always right there to help him as he needed it, and also there to help him navigate the world of other toddlers, like helping him protect his favorite shovel, and not throw sand at other people.

<< I, often times, *feel* the need to be a helicopter parent. I understand that this habit is solely fear-based and I am now choosing to move away from fearful thinking and reacting. >>

I have found that I have been more fearful with my second son, doing the same exact things at about the same age.  I think part of it is because my attention is no longer fully on one child, and partly because my second child is a different child.  My first was often more cautious in how he approached a new challenge, whereas my second is not (the first time my first son encountered a high ledge on a playground structure, he crawled to the side and looked down, and then carefully crawled over and waited for me to help him the rest of the way down-- the first time my second encountered a high ledge, I caught him as he tried to launch himself off).

It was only recently that I realized how much tension I was holding as I helped my second son navigate playgrounds.  It was probably that tension my friend saw that urged her to make the comment she made.  That comment was actually the moment that helped me relax and recall how fun helping my first had been.  I've learned that while I help my now 2.5 yr old do tricky things, like climb huge rope ladders with lots of kids bouncing it, if I'm relaxed, I'm more clear-headed about how best to help him, and don't feel the need to limit him unless a situation is truly dangerous. 

The other day we were at our local lake, and he wanted to climb a tree that was sticking out at an angle over the water.  I let him climb as far as I could reach a few times, then he started pushing my hands away to climb higher.  I brought him down to find something else to do or climb.  The water was murky and I couldn't see how deep it was below the tree.  It didn't feel like a safe place to let him climb.  He was upset, very upset, and as I held him and he cried, I thought of all the ways to say yes - yes with a lifejacket on (no way to get one right then), yes if I could stand under him (too deep for that, and swimming isn't allowed), yes to a child who could swim or at least float if they fell.  Yes maybe if the water was more clear.  Yes to other trees.  I decided that finding lots and lots of opportunities to climb other trees was what I could do.  It didn't help him feel better in that moment.  We he calmed down we found some fish nets in the car and got out our buckets and shovels and waded in the shallow water and that cheered him up.  

<<Nobody was watching me and I'm fine.>>

My kids are little - 4 and 2.5.  I can't imagine not letting one of them as an 8 yr old climb that tree.  And even then, I'd be happy I could be there.  Is the water deep?  Do they need a life jacket?  Able to be there for them if they fall and need me.  Sit back and watch if they want space.  Being there in whatever capacity they find helpful.  Getting to enjoy being a part of their lives and what they do.  I mean, that's why I want to unschool.  I learned a lot being a child who was outside playing unsupervised as often as I could be, away from those nasty grown ups, doing things with my friends, on our own.  I got into trouble.  I got hurt, I also had fun. I learned things, cultivated passions and interests.  I was definitely better off away from the nasty grown ups.  
But I want better than that for my kids.  As a child, I would have liked it- LOVED it- if friendly, helpful, capable adults had played with us too.  I want to be that for my kids.  

Lisa C


<semajrak@...>

>>>>>Nobody was watching me and I'm fine.<<<<<

I think that is really wonderful for you.  That wasn't true for me, however.  While it was true that most often nobody was watching me, it wasn't true that I was fine.  I was incredibly socially awkward well into my thirties because I didn't have the kind of support growing up that would have helped me understand social interactions better.  People are still a bit of a mystery to me.  It's the source of my social anxiety, I believe.  

The thing that helped me as an adult was having people around who were paying attention.  Not hovering, but helping me when I misstepped or letting me know when something I said or did was more successful.  That's kind of embarrassing need for an adult.  I'm hoping that I can help Ethan develop better tools than I had for navigating social relations.  Already, I can see he has a level of confidence and understanding that is well beyond what I had for most of my life.  

I don't hover and I don't ignore.  I pay attention.  If that means he wants me to mind my own business, I do.  If that means he wants me close, I'm there. Sometimes he only wants me close enough to come and bounce an idea off me - not to say or do anything.  Sometimes he wants advice.  Sometimes he wants assistance.  Sometimes he wants to know if he's gone too far or about to.  Sometimes he wants to test those limits himself.  In all instances he knows I'm available, and he trusts that I will do my best to understand and respond as best as I can to his needs.  But, that kind of connection can only happen if I'm paying attention.  So that's what I aim for.  

<plaidpanties666@...>

>>I am working toward being less of a "helicopter parent" and more of a watch-from-a-distance parent. While I *think* the latter is best, I, often times, *feel* the need to be a helicopter parent.<<

The trouble with broad-based categories like that is they often ignore real life, individual details.

My stepson was incredibly physical as a child. He still is, but as a little kid he was kind of a prodigy. He was fast and agile and overwhelmingly capable at physical tasks. It was hard to argue with him about safety because when he said "no, I won't get hurt" he was almost certainly right - and in a moment, he'd prove it. But at the same time, he didn't Want a "watch from a distance" parent - he wanted someone to play With him. When he was left to his own devices, he broke things - sometimes deliberately - and hurt people - sometimes deliberately - in order to get more of the attention and engagement he craved. He couldn't really be left to work things out with other kids because he was big and strong and capable and not just "for his age"  - so he quickly learned that violence was a Fantastic solution. He could hurt other kids and get his way And then get lots and lots of attention from adults: Score. 

So I re-learned a lot of my kid-in-the-woods skills - I climbed trees with him and ran around with him. I couldn't do all the things he could do, but I got involved as much as I could and I (and his other parents) looked hard for other people to hang out with him. I didn't hover, I played with him, I was his buddy and helped other people be his buddies whenever possible. There weren't many at first - a five year old who can hurt an adult by running up and hugging you is a daunting playmate! 

My daughter is also very physical and energetic, but not the prodigy Ray was - and she's much, much more... focused than Ray. I don't know a good way to put that. When she's busy with her own internal world, she has a hard time emerging to notice what's going on with the people around her. She's left other kids feeling snubbed in the past, because while she likes them, she sometimes shuts them out because they aren't nearly as important as other things. She's incredibly independent when she feels like it - the first time I went to an unschooling conference she (age 4) left me to run back to our cabin, with me trailing along in a panic, unable to catch up and hoping she knew where she was going. Then she refused to come out of our room for the rest of the day in favor of paper-cutting. The next evening she went on a fabulous night-time adventure with another girl in our cabin and that girl's dad. And yet we've also been to conferences where she never left the room or spoke to anyone but me. She can spend an entire day socializing... or an entire day editing a drawing. She regularly spends hours at a time on the trampoline, telling stories to herself. She's very physical and active, but terrified to ride a bike, or walk into a store by herself, or use the stove (she's 12 now). I don't know if she'd go to an adventure playground - she might refuse to have anything to do with it. Or she might go with a group of friends, the way she once decided to go play laser tag dressed in a fancy party dress.

Trying to squeeze me into either the category of "helicopter" or "from a distance" doesn't work any better with Morgan that it did with Ray. Neither makes sense in the context of who she is and what she needs. Sometimes she needs me to do things for her, or hold her hand every step of the way. Other times, she'll call if she needs anything, don't wait up mom. 

<plaidpanties666@...>

>> Nobody was watching me and I'm fine.<<

No-one watched me as a kid, but no-one Helped me, either and that was a problem. Because my parents prized my independence (and worse my "giftedness"), and said so, I knew not to ask for help. Because my parents and the kids in my neighborhood prized certain kinds of skills and experiences, I learned to devalue the things I cared about in favor of what was acceptable. In my case, that meant that eventually all I had was school, so school became my refuge. There I could be capable - but just as importantly, if I needed help I could ask an adult and get some useful feedback. 

One of the most wonderful things I've learned through unschooling is that it's okay to help people and be helped. It's okay to collaborate. It's okay to be my kids' friend.

<simple339014@...>

I think the statement, "Nobody was watching me and I'm fine" needs to be clarified. It was too general and not well thought out. What I should have said (and meant) was that when I was a child, none of the parents in my neighborhood accompanied their children while they played, nor did they fix situations between kids when problems arose. We worked things out amongst ourselves.This was my personal experience. My mother was always available if I needed help figuring things out. 

The purpose of my original post was to share something that I found beautiful and liberating. I was so moved by what I saw happening at that playground, that I probably expressed myself in a way that was too broad and general for the purposes of this list. My family has been unschooling for just three months, so every time I make a new discovery and have an ah-ha moment, I get pretty excited! Thank you to everyone at Always Learning for sharing your experiences and insight.

Mel

Joyce Fetteroll


On Mar 22, 2014, at 7:01 PM, simple339014@... wrote:

so every time I make a new discovery and have an ah-ha moment, I get pretty excited!

I understand your excitement. It is cool when that happens. It's like lights turned on that you hadn't realized were off that show you how something really is :-)

But I also think that if you were to reread what you wrote in a couple of years you'd see what people are pointing at. 

Statements should stand on their own without a specific context to make them true. I know what you mean by "Nobody was watching me and I'm fine". I too grew up being able to leave the house from morning until dinner time with only a return for lunch. That freedom to explore, to try things out without someone watching and waiting to correct you, is important for learning.

But if "Nobody was watching me and I'm fine" is pulled out of that context -- and many young parents *don't* have that context -- it creates a dangerous image for unschooling parents. It paints a "hands off" parenting picture.

It helps to realize that one way people build an understanding of the world is through "sound bites". They'll pick up little bits they can grasp easily then build on those. Unfortunately, since radical unschooling has a lot of ideas that don't have conventional counterparts, people often start building onto ideas that aren't right! They'll pick up sound bites like "No bedtimes," and "Always say yes," and "Unschooling means freedom," and so on. Then they'll wonder why their unschooling is making them tear out their hair! ;-)

One thing this forum does is pull out statements that are likely to confuse people. Those are held up for examination to explain why those aren't good blocks to build with.

Joyce

Sandra Dodd

-=- I know what you mean by "Nobody was watching me and I'm fine". I too grew up being able to leave the house from morning until dinner time with only a return for lunch. That freedom to explore, to try things out without someone watching and waiting to correct you, is important for learning.-=-

I was always strictly timed.  "Be back in an hour."  "Be back by 10:00."  If I was late, I was in trouble.  

My best friend was more often just told "No, you can't go.  Stay here."

I had other friends whose mom didn't seem to know whether they were home or not.  Some liked it, some didn't.

But all that involves lots of factors—parental fears, desire for control, the safety of the neighborhood, local laws, local expectations.  Some of it involves the state of the mother—traumatized by childhood injuries of her own  Marked by her own parents' behavior and fears?

So rather than look at *what* something is, it's good to look at *why*—so that unschooling principles can become part of parental decision making.   With unschooling we know the who (parents and children) the where (home and whatever other places you go) and when (all the time).   It's easy for newer unschoolers to ask "what" questions and to be looking at "what" (what toys?  what words should I say?  what should I do about math / reading / reporting / relatives) rather than looking at the more important "WHY?"   

Understanding why one is unschooling, and understanding why it's beneficial to be less controlling but at the same time more attentive, and why choices are a huge advantage to everyone involved is what will help someone find their own "what."

Sandra

Lisa Celedon

<<people often start building onto ideas that aren't right! They'll pick up sound bites like "No bedtimes," and "Always say yes," and "Unschooling means freedom," and so on. Then they'll wonder why their unschooling is making them tear out their hair! ;-)>>

YES!!  That was my initial experience with unschooling.  Even with people clarifying those 'sound bites' and offering the really useful ones that I eventually found my way to.  I'm so glad this list encourages people to be thoughtful about what they write.  I've grown and matured so much by practicing being thoughtful about what I'm writing- and what I'm thinking- and continuing to grow and learn about myself and what I'm doing.

In a lot of ways, I feel like I finally have the peace and mental energy available to do all the learning I might have done had my life been more pleasant and less stressful as a child.  I was thinking about what Karen said, about being *not* fine for a lack of adult help.  I am extroverted and learned so many social lessons because I did things that ended or harmed friendships and other relationships, even with the best of intentions.  I had no one in my life as an example of how to be a healthy, good friend, or partner, and no one helping me as I navigated relationships in the world.  

Finding clarity in my own thoughts and assumptions, being peaceful and mindful, hasn't helped me make NO mistakes or social blunders, but it's definitely helped me make a lot less.  It's helped me to be more careful with the people in my life.  When I do make mistakes, they are easier to see for what they are, it is often more clear what I can do to repair them, and I learn more from them than I did in the past.

Lisa C

<alohabun@...>

<<"As a new unschooler, I am working toward being less of a "helicopter parent" and more of a watch-from-a-distance parent. While I *think* the latter is best, I, often times, *feel* the need to be a helicopter parent. I understand that this habit is solely fear-based and I am now choosing to move away from fearful thinking and reacting.">>

While moving towards being calmer and more thoughtful is good, you don't have to think of yourself as any certain kind of parent to do so.  It is good if something helps you think of how you can be a better parent.  However, I would let go of trying to fit into any kind of label and *be* the responsible and thoughtful parent you wish to be for your child.  

Children go through many stages and phases, some of which warrant our close presence and others which warrant our respectful distance.  Don't let a label coax you into doing something you don't feel good about.  Trust your gut and watch your kid for cues.    

I'm not sure that parenting labels are helpful.  Sometimes when I read about "helicoptor parents," I wonder if people are trying to justify not paying attention to their kids.  Parenting labels may also encourage judgement and comparison which can move the focus from meeting kid's needs to parents wanting to feel good about themselves and how they parent.  As much as we want to feel good, we can get that good feeling by doing right by our kids, not by trying to do what our culture, friends or some article says is right. Meet your particular kids needs and let go of what other people think!  Rather than look at labels that try to pigeonhole people into being this sort of parent or that sort of parent, be the parent that is right for your child in each moment.  

Laurie :)










Sandra Dodd

-=-While moving towards being calmer and more thoughtful is good, you don't have to think of yourself as any certain kind of parent to do so.  It is good if something helps you think of how you can be a better parent.  However, I would let go of trying to fit into any kind of label and *be* the responsible and thoughtful parent you wish to be for your child. -=-

"Better" is a good, simple label. :-)
Making the better choice, when you're able to think of two options, will make you ever "better."

<simple339014@...>

Thank you Laurie and Sandra for your thoughtful responses. I sincerely appreciate you bringing to light my use of labels. Making the decision to not think of myself (or others) as a certain type of parent is an idea I am embracing. Previously, I had never considered that I was pigeonholing *myself* with a label. Thank you for the lovely suggestion of moving toward "better". That really simplifies things and simple is good. I am so grateful for the opportunity to truly engage and examine how thinking and words can so easily move you toward or away from your goals.