Re: [UnschoolingDiscussion] Learning to see differently/ Stages of Unschooling
[email protected]
In a message dated 2/20/2004 9:22:08 PM Eastern Standard Time,
SandraDodd@... writes:
If anyone who understands what I'm saying can think of another way to say it,
help would be great. If anyone doesn't understand what I'm saying, I
recommend a full break-away from attachment to academics. <<<<<<<
I wrote this a few weeks ago about this very thing:
The Three Stages of Unschooling
My son Cameron (16) and I recently started sitting in on a college Sociology
class. He asked for and received electric guitar lessons for his birthday.
Mondays he goes to a nearby school and takes African drumming lessons. He's
taking a weekly film class starting in March, and we'll be sending him to a
weeklong film school in Maine in May. Duncan (almost 8) just started karate lessons.
Ben (my husband) has just finished a class (with tests and all) that's
required before he can put on Lt Col (Air National Guard) and is now in NJ for three
weeks of "rah-rah" and classroom training and tests for the two new drugs he
will be selling. I'm going to a one-day intensive "Bee School" to learn to take
care of my Christmas present: two beehives.
Cameron said the other day, "For Unschoolers, we sure are taking a lot of
schooly classes!"
That got me thinking...especially since we are one of those families that
discovered unschooling after years and years of schooling.
I think that there are three "Stages of Unschooling".
Stage I
The first stage is the longest and most difficult and involves getting rid of
all school-think, which includes classes and "instruction" and school-speak.
We have to rid ourselves of the reliance on schools and teachers and testing
and book-worship. We need to look deeply into the difference between "teach"
and "learn". We ban classes and structure and nagging. It's accepting that
grades and requirements and diplomas and curricula and extrinsic motivations truly
have no meaning in an unschooling life. It's realizing that the whole world is
related and inter-related: it's about NOT dividing the world into subjects:
math is science is art is history is literature is FUN! It's a time for
reflection on how we've learned the things that really matter in our adult lives.
It's hard to let go of all that school-think, to go beyond what we've been
*taught* was important and to value ALL learning as important.
It's realizing that we learn what WE believe is important WHEN we are ready.
And it's realizing that what's important often changes. It's about abolishing
coercion in learning and about the freedom to change passions. It's
understanding that learning doesn't stop.
Face it, almost all of you reading this in 2004 went to school---at least for
12 years, maybe as many as 22 or 25 years! School is so ingrained in us, that
it's hard to think any other way. We appreciate "straight A students" and
"AP" classes and college prep high schools and term papers and "higher math" and
high SAT/ACT scores. "Good" students are given preferential treatment by
everyone: pizzas for reading and Chuck E. Cheese tokens for good report cards. Even
our child's car insurance is lowered if we have an "A student"!
Stage one is about ridding our minds of those things, about really thinking
about learning in a holistic manner. It's about examining how we learned what
truly interests us---especially those things that didn't require a "teacher".
What are your passions? HOW did you learn to do those things? In a classroom?
Two of my passions as a child were dogs and horses. Dogs and horses are NOT
taught in any grade, middle, or high school *I* know of. But I wanted to learn
everything I could about them. My parents gave me dogs and horses. They bought
me books and paid for me to take riding lessons and dog obedience classes.
They paid for dog and horse shows and equipment. My passion threw me into
reading every book I could find (there were no videos back then----or "Animal
Planet"!). By twelve I could identify every breed of dog and horse that I had ever
seen or read about and tell you how it was developed, where, why, and by whom.
I spent every weekend and every afternoon at a dog show/horse show/event/trial
or just hanging around the stable or kennel. I asked thousands of questions
and "got my hands dirty". Many of my friends were adults with the same
passions. Training, breeding, grooming, showing, husbandry----all of these things I
learned because I was consumed by them!
But, of course, dogs and horses are NOT school subjects---and are completely
unimportant in the school world. What if I had waited for a teacher to come
along and say, "Today we are learning all about dog and horses"? Not only would
I have waited all my life, the teacher would only have given me a "taste" of
the subject!
OH! And you *can't* make a living with dogs and horses---right? <g>
Stage one is often referred to as DEschooling. It's the period of time we
need to give ourselves in order to "step away from the box" of school and
school-think. Ask yourself why and how you learned your passion: whether it was
music, cooking, flying, gardening, or long-distance running. Or even more
"academic-like" passions, like Shakespeare, chemistry, World War II, or a foreign
language. When you are comfortable with how learning happens by indulging in
passions and making connections in your learning, you are quickly heading towards
stage two.
Stage II
Once you are comfortable with the idea of immersion learning----and you're
over wanting or needing classes and structure, you're finally over the
deschooling hump and are actively in the process of UNschooling.
Stage two involves really immersing ourselves----and allowing our children to
immerse themselves---into passions and even into slight, fleeting interests.
Seeing connections and making connections and yet realizing that some things
*might* not connect for YEARS is the most important part of stage two.
Connection: I remember lying in my bed when I was about 11 or 12. My bed was
behind the door, so that, when open, the door obscured the head of my bed. I
had tied a string to my doorknob. I would try to shut my door with my finger at
the point of the doorjamb; then I would open the door back up with a pull on
the string. It took *a lot* of pressure (and pain!) to close my door at the
point of the jamb. But every inch closer to the door knob I got, it would be
easier and easier to close, so that by the time I was right at the edge of the
door (by the knob), I could almost "blow" it shut. I had "discovered"
torque----but it had no name!
School's idea that children should be given the definition of torque and then
have it explained is backwards. It was so simple for me to understand the
definition of torque because I already had made the personal and meaningful
connection with my bedroom door.
Passion: There are people who invest their time (and many even make a living)
studying Elizabethan fashion or reading/writing about the works of John
Steinbeck or determining whether an 17th century chair is a forgery or watching
birds make nests/feed their young or , as I heard on the radio yesterday: there's
this guy who's getting his Masters degree in Soil Science! Go figure!
If allowed (and often, even if not allowed!), a child will pursue his career
by following his passion(s). A wise parent will encourage this pursuit of
passion, because it may be what the child decides to devote his life's work to.
Maybe *more* importantly, that wise parent will step aside when a passion
becomes "old" because the parent will know that *some* connection has been made with
this fleeting passion.
From 10-12 years old, Cameron was a magician. I actually thought that he
would become the next Lance Burton or Jeff McBride (who once referred to Cameron
as "mini-me"!). He was so passionate about magic, he would practice and perform
ALL day! Insert here: "If I let him, Cameron would sit around and do magic
ALL DAY!" Well, he DID! Until the day when he quit. I was stunned! He'd lost all
interest. We'd put thousands of dollars into costumes and tricks and gimmicks
and conventions and tapes and books and private sessions with famous
magicians---and he just up and quit.
At first I was incredulous. Then I realized it was just an intense, fleeting
passion. We still have a huge box of magic upstairs in the attic. He can come
back to it whenever----or not. What's important is that it inspired him and f
ed a passion and entertained him (and us and hundreds more). He met some truly
fascinating people and made connections that will last a lifetime---because he
had an interest, a passion.
Stage one, deschooling, is a very uncomfortable time! It's a period of
intense questioning and of challenging yourself to think differently. This is
difficult, but it can be done---as with all learning: when you're ready to!
Stage two may be even more uncomfortable, because you're actually putting
the ideas into action: you're allowing the passions to take over and you're not
pushing the three "R's". You are beginning to trust that the child will learn
and you're respecting his choices. You're UNschooling! And the more you do it,
the easier it gets!
Stage three is freedom and joy and trust and respect and desire: Radical
Unschooling
Stage III
The third and final stage is when we can honestly and sincerely look at ALL
learning as equal and not hold one "method" or style or subject or means of
obtaining information above another. By stage three, we live and breathe
unschooling---it's such a part of our day-to-day living that we can't separate it from
our lives: it's not just the "educational" part because *everything* is
educational. We can apply unschooling principles to bedtimes and eating and video
gaming and TV and "chores". We know that our children will learn because it's
what they were born to do; they're hard-wired to learn. Learning is how the
human species survives and progresses and succeeds.
This is the stage when we can effectively and confidently start giving out
unschooling information to the uninformed or misinformed because we "get it." We
can live our lives joyfully because we're not worried whether Susie will pass
her algebra or whether Johnny will be able to get into a good college,
because they WILL if they want to. We know that they will pursue their
passions...well, passionately! And that each day will bring more connections and learning
opportunities.
This is the stage when classes and instruction may eke back into our lives,
as it recently has in our family's. We don't give more weight to the learning
that is happening in Sociology-101 or karate or bee-keeping just because it's
happening in a classroom situation. A class is just another means of pursuing
our passions, making the connections, and receiving the information. Learning
happens all the time in all places---*even* in a classroom!
I don't want to give the impression that acceptance of class/book learning
automatically makes you a Radical Unschooler. Stage III cannot "just happen":
you'll have to go through Stages I and II first. For those of us that attended
school, deschooling will always exist at a lower level throughout our lives.
The next generation (our unschooled children) will not have this stage to work
through: they'll be able to see all learning as equal and good from the get-go.
It's a process: getting rid of the school-think and structure, becoming
comfortable and implementing immersion learning, and *then* accepting ALL learning
as equally valuable.
~Kelly
[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
SandraDodd@... writes:
If anyone who understands what I'm saying can think of another way to say it,
help would be great. If anyone doesn't understand what I'm saying, I
recommend a full break-away from attachment to academics. <<<<<<<
I wrote this a few weeks ago about this very thing:
The Three Stages of Unschooling
My son Cameron (16) and I recently started sitting in on a college Sociology
class. He asked for and received electric guitar lessons for his birthday.
Mondays he goes to a nearby school and takes African drumming lessons. He's
taking a weekly film class starting in March, and we'll be sending him to a
weeklong film school in Maine in May. Duncan (almost 8) just started karate lessons.
Ben (my husband) has just finished a class (with tests and all) that's
required before he can put on Lt Col (Air National Guard) and is now in NJ for three
weeks of "rah-rah" and classroom training and tests for the two new drugs he
will be selling. I'm going to a one-day intensive "Bee School" to learn to take
care of my Christmas present: two beehives.
Cameron said the other day, "For Unschoolers, we sure are taking a lot of
schooly classes!"
That got me thinking...especially since we are one of those families that
discovered unschooling after years and years of schooling.
I think that there are three "Stages of Unschooling".
Stage I
The first stage is the longest and most difficult and involves getting rid of
all school-think, which includes classes and "instruction" and school-speak.
We have to rid ourselves of the reliance on schools and teachers and testing
and book-worship. We need to look deeply into the difference between "teach"
and "learn". We ban classes and structure and nagging. It's accepting that
grades and requirements and diplomas and curricula and extrinsic motivations truly
have no meaning in an unschooling life. It's realizing that the whole world is
related and inter-related: it's about NOT dividing the world into subjects:
math is science is art is history is literature is FUN! It's a time for
reflection on how we've learned the things that really matter in our adult lives.
It's hard to let go of all that school-think, to go beyond what we've been
*taught* was important and to value ALL learning as important.
It's realizing that we learn what WE believe is important WHEN we are ready.
And it's realizing that what's important often changes. It's about abolishing
coercion in learning and about the freedom to change passions. It's
understanding that learning doesn't stop.
Face it, almost all of you reading this in 2004 went to school---at least for
12 years, maybe as many as 22 or 25 years! School is so ingrained in us, that
it's hard to think any other way. We appreciate "straight A students" and
"AP" classes and college prep high schools and term papers and "higher math" and
high SAT/ACT scores. "Good" students are given preferential treatment by
everyone: pizzas for reading and Chuck E. Cheese tokens for good report cards. Even
our child's car insurance is lowered if we have an "A student"!
Stage one is about ridding our minds of those things, about really thinking
about learning in a holistic manner. It's about examining how we learned what
truly interests us---especially those things that didn't require a "teacher".
What are your passions? HOW did you learn to do those things? In a classroom?
Two of my passions as a child were dogs and horses. Dogs and horses are NOT
taught in any grade, middle, or high school *I* know of. But I wanted to learn
everything I could about them. My parents gave me dogs and horses. They bought
me books and paid for me to take riding lessons and dog obedience classes.
They paid for dog and horse shows and equipment. My passion threw me into
reading every book I could find (there were no videos back then----or "Animal
Planet"!). By twelve I could identify every breed of dog and horse that I had ever
seen or read about and tell you how it was developed, where, why, and by whom.
I spent every weekend and every afternoon at a dog show/horse show/event/trial
or just hanging around the stable or kennel. I asked thousands of questions
and "got my hands dirty". Many of my friends were adults with the same
passions. Training, breeding, grooming, showing, husbandry----all of these things I
learned because I was consumed by them!
But, of course, dogs and horses are NOT school subjects---and are completely
unimportant in the school world. What if I had waited for a teacher to come
along and say, "Today we are learning all about dog and horses"? Not only would
I have waited all my life, the teacher would only have given me a "taste" of
the subject!
OH! And you *can't* make a living with dogs and horses---right? <g>
Stage one is often referred to as DEschooling. It's the period of time we
need to give ourselves in order to "step away from the box" of school and
school-think. Ask yourself why and how you learned your passion: whether it was
music, cooking, flying, gardening, or long-distance running. Or even more
"academic-like" passions, like Shakespeare, chemistry, World War II, or a foreign
language. When you are comfortable with how learning happens by indulging in
passions and making connections in your learning, you are quickly heading towards
stage two.
Stage II
Once you are comfortable with the idea of immersion learning----and you're
over wanting or needing classes and structure, you're finally over the
deschooling hump and are actively in the process of UNschooling.
Stage two involves really immersing ourselves----and allowing our children to
immerse themselves---into passions and even into slight, fleeting interests.
Seeing connections and making connections and yet realizing that some things
*might* not connect for YEARS is the most important part of stage two.
Connection: I remember lying in my bed when I was about 11 or 12. My bed was
behind the door, so that, when open, the door obscured the head of my bed. I
had tied a string to my doorknob. I would try to shut my door with my finger at
the point of the doorjamb; then I would open the door back up with a pull on
the string. It took *a lot* of pressure (and pain!) to close my door at the
point of the jamb. But every inch closer to the door knob I got, it would be
easier and easier to close, so that by the time I was right at the edge of the
door (by the knob), I could almost "blow" it shut. I had "discovered"
torque----but it had no name!
School's idea that children should be given the definition of torque and then
have it explained is backwards. It was so simple for me to understand the
definition of torque because I already had made the personal and meaningful
connection with my bedroom door.
Passion: There are people who invest their time (and many even make a living)
studying Elizabethan fashion or reading/writing about the works of John
Steinbeck or determining whether an 17th century chair is a forgery or watching
birds make nests/feed their young or , as I heard on the radio yesterday: there's
this guy who's getting his Masters degree in Soil Science! Go figure!
If allowed (and often, even if not allowed!), a child will pursue his career
by following his passion(s). A wise parent will encourage this pursuit of
passion, because it may be what the child decides to devote his life's work to.
Maybe *more* importantly, that wise parent will step aside when a passion
becomes "old" because the parent will know that *some* connection has been made with
this fleeting passion.
From 10-12 years old, Cameron was a magician. I actually thought that he
would become the next Lance Burton or Jeff McBride (who once referred to Cameron
as "mini-me"!). He was so passionate about magic, he would practice and perform
ALL day! Insert here: "If I let him, Cameron would sit around and do magic
ALL DAY!" Well, he DID! Until the day when he quit. I was stunned! He'd lost all
interest. We'd put thousands of dollars into costumes and tricks and gimmicks
and conventions and tapes and books and private sessions with famous
magicians---and he just up and quit.
At first I was incredulous. Then I realized it was just an intense, fleeting
passion. We still have a huge box of magic upstairs in the attic. He can come
back to it whenever----or not. What's important is that it inspired him and f
ed a passion and entertained him (and us and hundreds more). He met some truly
fascinating people and made connections that will last a lifetime---because he
had an interest, a passion.
Stage one, deschooling, is a very uncomfortable time! It's a period of
intense questioning and of challenging yourself to think differently. This is
difficult, but it can be done---as with all learning: when you're ready to!
Stage two may be even more uncomfortable, because you're actually putting
the ideas into action: you're allowing the passions to take over and you're not
pushing the three "R's". You are beginning to trust that the child will learn
and you're respecting his choices. You're UNschooling! And the more you do it,
the easier it gets!
Stage three is freedom and joy and trust and respect and desire: Radical
Unschooling
Stage III
The third and final stage is when we can honestly and sincerely look at ALL
learning as equal and not hold one "method" or style or subject or means of
obtaining information above another. By stage three, we live and breathe
unschooling---it's such a part of our day-to-day living that we can't separate it from
our lives: it's not just the "educational" part because *everything* is
educational. We can apply unschooling principles to bedtimes and eating and video
gaming and TV and "chores". We know that our children will learn because it's
what they were born to do; they're hard-wired to learn. Learning is how the
human species survives and progresses and succeeds.
This is the stage when we can effectively and confidently start giving out
unschooling information to the uninformed or misinformed because we "get it." We
can live our lives joyfully because we're not worried whether Susie will pass
her algebra or whether Johnny will be able to get into a good college,
because they WILL if they want to. We know that they will pursue their
passions...well, passionately! And that each day will bring more connections and learning
opportunities.
This is the stage when classes and instruction may eke back into our lives,
as it recently has in our family's. We don't give more weight to the learning
that is happening in Sociology-101 or karate or bee-keeping just because it's
happening in a classroom situation. A class is just another means of pursuing
our passions, making the connections, and receiving the information. Learning
happens all the time in all places---*even* in a classroom!
I don't want to give the impression that acceptance of class/book learning
automatically makes you a Radical Unschooler. Stage III cannot "just happen":
you'll have to go through Stages I and II first. For those of us that attended
school, deschooling will always exist at a lower level throughout our lives.
The next generation (our unschooled children) will not have this stage to work
through: they'll be able to see all learning as equal and good from the get-go.
It's a process: getting rid of the school-think and structure, becoming
comfortable and implementing immersion learning, and *then* accepting ALL learning
as equally valuable.
~Kelly
[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
Danielle Conger
This was interesting Kelly. Thanks for sharing it! You got me thinking....
Kelly wrote:
This is the stage when classes and instruction may eke back into our lives,
as it recently has in our family's. We don't give more weight to the learning
that is happening in Sociology-101 or karate or bee-keeping just because it's
happening in a classroom situation. A class is just another means of pursuing
our passions, making the connections, and receiving the information. Learning
happens all the time in all places---*even* in a classroom!
-------------------------------------------
When reading your stage III description, I found myself thinking that in some ways, classes happen because they're one of the more expedient ways to gain information in a school-driven culture. I think that many of us would be just as happy (maybe happier!) to learn bee-keeping from a neighbor who's been doing it for years. But we're not always lucky enough for a situation like this to present itself, so we seek out the next best solution--a class on bee-keeping. Mentoring relationships and informal groups, in my opinion, are far more valuable than classroom instruction. It's just that they aren't always options, whereas you can find a class on just about anything. Sometimes, a person can read as much about a subject as they can get their hands on--from books to the internet--but no amount of reading will provide the same insight as just talking to someone else with actual experience in the subject. I think that's why we seek out classes, not because there's value in taking and passing a class to achieve some kind of credential. Does that make sense? So it's a shift in purpose and perspective that unschoolers undergo before they return to "class."
Going back to an earlier discussion on courses...
I, too, enjoyed the intellectual exchange that happened in my grad classes. But I enjoyed it in much the same way as I enjoy this list: I liked debating and thinking with other people interested in the same issues. I didn't *like* the trappings of formal classes. Some of the best discussions and learning I had were the informal ones, after classes at a local bar or coffee shop, informal discussion circles where professors and grad students were on an equal playing field--just a group of people of various ages and backgrounds having an honest, intellectual exchange about a shared interest. These were the best times, in my opinion.
So, I guess I'm just pointing out that classes happen, but only because they're sometimes a necessary evil *g*. (Maybe one that it's worth thinking more about how to bypass?) Unschoolers would probably gain the same information, interaction and experience in a more unschooly way through mentoring and informal groups than they do from classes. It's just that sometimes the choice isn't there, you know?
--danielle
[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
Kelly wrote:
This is the stage when classes and instruction may eke back into our lives,
as it recently has in our family's. We don't give more weight to the learning
that is happening in Sociology-101 or karate or bee-keeping just because it's
happening in a classroom situation. A class is just another means of pursuing
our passions, making the connections, and receiving the information. Learning
happens all the time in all places---*even* in a classroom!
-------------------------------------------
When reading your stage III description, I found myself thinking that in some ways, classes happen because they're one of the more expedient ways to gain information in a school-driven culture. I think that many of us would be just as happy (maybe happier!) to learn bee-keeping from a neighbor who's been doing it for years. But we're not always lucky enough for a situation like this to present itself, so we seek out the next best solution--a class on bee-keeping. Mentoring relationships and informal groups, in my opinion, are far more valuable than classroom instruction. It's just that they aren't always options, whereas you can find a class on just about anything. Sometimes, a person can read as much about a subject as they can get their hands on--from books to the internet--but no amount of reading will provide the same insight as just talking to someone else with actual experience in the subject. I think that's why we seek out classes, not because there's value in taking and passing a class to achieve some kind of credential. Does that make sense? So it's a shift in purpose and perspective that unschoolers undergo before they return to "class."
Going back to an earlier discussion on courses...
I, too, enjoyed the intellectual exchange that happened in my grad classes. But I enjoyed it in much the same way as I enjoy this list: I liked debating and thinking with other people interested in the same issues. I didn't *like* the trappings of formal classes. Some of the best discussions and learning I had were the informal ones, after classes at a local bar or coffee shop, informal discussion circles where professors and grad students were on an equal playing field--just a group of people of various ages and backgrounds having an honest, intellectual exchange about a shared interest. These were the best times, in my opinion.
So, I guess I'm just pointing out that classes happen, but only because they're sometimes a necessary evil *g*. (Maybe one that it's worth thinking more about how to bypass?) Unschoolers would probably gain the same information, interaction and experience in a more unschooly way through mentoring and informal groups than they do from classes. It's just that sometimes the choice isn't there, you know?
--danielle
[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
[email protected]
danielle.conger@... writes:
imitates life, rather than the other way around.
So the closer it can come to learning as we enjoy it in life, without
sacrificing the somewhat artificial convenience and coverage that are its only
excuse for existing in the first place, the better I like it. :) JJ
[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
> classes happen because they're one of the more expedient ways to gainIt's this way for me and for my family. Formal instruction of any kind
> information in a school-driven culture. I think that many of us would be just as
> happy (maybe happier!) to learn bee-keeping from a neighbor who's been doing
> it for years. But we're not always lucky enough for a situation like this to
> present itself, so we seek out the next best solution--a class on bee-keeping.
> Mentoring relationships and informal groups, in my opinion, are far more
> valuable than classroom instruction. It's just that they aren't always options,
> whereas you can find a class on just about anything. Sometimes, a person can
> read as much about a subject as they can get their hands on--from books to
> the internet--but no amount of reading will provide the same insight as just
> talking to someone else with actual experience in the subject. I think that's
> why we seek out classes, not because there's value in taking and passing a
> class to achieve some kind of credential.
imitates life, rather than the other way around.
So the closer it can come to learning as we enjoy it in life, without
sacrificing the somewhat artificial convenience and coverage that are its only
excuse for existing in the first place, the better I like it. :) JJ
[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]