On Identifying as an Unschooler and the Online Community

A question was proposed regarding identifying as an unschooler with or without a disclaimer about eclecticism and the precision of non-coerciveness and whether or not we damage ourselves and one another in these constant online battles about what is and is not unschooling. I took a stab...

I think that the identifying as an unschooler is more about what your ideal is than about what your reality is. Ideals are really difficult to articulate in a way that is uniform because we're talking, in the end, about moments, not about philosophy. Philosophy is an ethereal thing, hard to pin down, and each of our unique experiences and perspectives are going to vary the way that we express it.

I often find what I'm literally saying is interpreted to mean something that in my real life it doesn't feel as though it resembles at all. That's the problem with philosophy and the internet. The reason people continue to think and write about life is that we're always finding new ways to articulate the feelings about our lives. We're always trying to discover and pin down what exactly it is, what it feels like, how the big picture might be described. We can't even see the big picture of our lives. It's an imaginary concept. And yet we are compelled to describe it in order to process, to synthesize, to share, to connect, and in large part, to make sense of it all.

Everything must be told in stories. It's how the brain functions. Every face looks like a face, every language is based on the same genetic foundations, and every thing that we learn must be placed into the context of the world as we know it. We follow paths to that end. Those paths are like storylines. There are beginnings and they follow a set sort of route and we meander along it until we come out in the end as a concept, with perhaps a word and a script for the future: Unschooling. Radical Unschooling. On and on we make changes and correct for the reality of our collective experience. We add on and re-decipher and in so doing, argue endlessly. Which is where the question of rigidity in definition comes along.

What I have found is that the moments of my real life cross forth and back between philosophical definitions. In large part, we are radical unschoolers, but there are so many moments where I am not the calm mother, at ease with everything, and there are moments when I say, "Get off the computer! Learn to read! You're going to school!" And in those moments, my rage is so great - so much greater than I am - that I do not even care in the slightest that I have threatened my poor, defenseless sobbing children with school. I feel justified in those moments. I feel doubtful about my chosen path and its legitimate effectiveness in the real world and I feel that my children deserve that wrath and its consequences.

Later, of course, I get over my doubting and apologize and find the justification for my fury in our constant togetherness, my infinite to-do lists, the running about, the lack of funds and support, and the boat-loads of stress sitting all about me, settling, as dust, on all my furniture. And we return to our lives, the steady pace, the ins and outs of requesting an activity, demanding cooperation, and letting them do whatever the hell they please.

Unschooling is not a set of rules. It cannot be. It is an idea - invisible, intangible, and yet it manifests in things, in activities, events, and in the patterns of our lives. It is not entirely to do something. It is to not do something.

We could - and we do - endlessly describe and attempt to construct the minute hypothetical event that may or may not fit within that abstract philosophy, thus to arrive at solid descriptions to comfort ourselves with in our walking about in the world with all its struggle and doubt. These exercises inevitably reassure some of us and plunge others further into doubt. I find that which side of that you fall on depends more on how you've been feeling of late than it does on what you actually do.

Hessler Street Fair

Sunday afternoon I took the kids to Hessler Street for a bit. Jon dropped us off before heading to a meeting. Right away, we ran into our friend Barbara who has been unschooling her 7 children since the early 80s. Well, we ran into a lot of people we knew (the great joy of our community), but hooked up with Barbara. We got some french fries, then went off with Barbara and her grandkids to find Harmony Park, the children's area of the festival. This collective art piece, or whatever it is, reminded me of a project for Art Day that I wanted to try. Some lady yelled at the kids for crawling under it, which made it seem sort of pointless.
Lavinia tied some string to one bit with my help in getting it nicely twisted around other bits. Then some big kids immediately undid it.
Steve pulled the boys in a sled through the grass.
And Bastian and Lavinia hid under a papasan bowl. Strange, random bits lay all about for playing with. The kids rushed back and forth between everything, unable to commit to any one activity. We had trouble keeping track of them.
After a pee break, I got the kids' faces painted. Bastian chose a lion.
This guy couldn't paint.
Aleks chose to have the head of the Bakugan in his pocket painted on his face. It doesn't really look anything like that.
Most exciting, however, was that as I got Aleks settled to get painted, I turned around and Bastian was gone. I kept looking all about and didn't see him. Then I alerted all our friends nearby, still looking all around Harmony park. It was mostly enclosed, but there were two large openings with no gates - one lead to a parking lot via a patch of grass, the other to the music stage of the street fair. Emma and her friends from school went to the festival portion in search while I started towards the parking lot. Barbara kept an eye on Aleks for me. I saw Steve coming towards me with Jonas, but he hadn't seen Bastian. Behind him was Joy, Barbara's daughter, who also didn't see him. Then I saw his little hood coming down the way with a grown-up lady. Someone had found him! As it turned out, it was another unschooling family who thought they recognized the little boy standing in the parking lot. The mom told me he was quite good and when asked where his mother was replied, simply, "over there!" pointing towards Harmony Park. Thank goodness!

Afterwards, we ventured off in search of food, running into tons of folks from our neighborhood, including the girl who was to babysit for the first time on Monday. The boys liked her immediately, as I knew they would.

We bought each of the boys a tie-dyed t-shirt from a young woman who I'd never met, but who reads this blog! That was especially exciting! Hello!

Lastly, we got superman ice cream from the front porch at which it is always sold, and settled into the clothing booth of friends from our local mama group in order to eat it. Just when I started to worry that I had no idea how Papa was going to find us amidst the throbbing masses, he walked by! Aleks & Bastian got piggyback rides back to the car and we enjoyed the rest of a peaceful evening at home.

Art Day Zoo

Since the weather was lovely, we played outside and the kids built a zoo on the sidewalk. The zombies shared a cage with the big cats. A wizard had placed a spell on them to make them not eat anyone. There was a Cerberus at the zoo.
And a Native American on horseback, for some reason. Which sounds terrible, to me.
There was also an Elf riding a Dragon. Why these things are in a zoo, is beyond me. Perhaps, though, it was a nice, collective with appropriate boarding rather than a zoo. These are unschooled children, after all - what do they know about being institutionalized?
Later, Aleks finally succeeded in hypnotizing Ivy. She became a lion for the rest of the afternoon, even drinking water from a dish, which is why her mane is all wet here.
Aleks became a lion too. Turns out the zoo was both in my yard and on the sidewalk.

Child Labor

Somehow I convinced Bastian to scrub our front porch to free it from its thick coat of yellow pollen as well as the contents of half a bottle of Elliot Ness Anna spilled several weeks back (complete with bits of things stuck in the spillage). He quite enjoyed it. Now to invent new ways of getting him to help clean (*twists her mustache*)...

The Surgery

Aleks was so excited about his surgery (and his promised toy after - not to reward, but as a "I'm sorry, this sucks, let's lavish you because you deserve it after such a rough go") that he couldn't sleep Sunday night. He went to bed earlier than usual, then woke up sometime between 2 and 4 in the morning. His dad, who has chronic, awful insomnia, was of course still awake, so they played video games until it was time to go. Our neighbor was supposed to come watch Bastian while we all went, but since Jon had gotten no sleep, we opted to have Jon stay home instead while I took Aleks alone. This worked out fine.

Driving in the dark, the moon waning moon glowed blurry before us as we made our way through early morning traffic, down the hill, past the maze of hospital buildings to the last parking lot on Carnegie. Our other neighbor let us borrow his ID badge so we could get free parking for the day (which it turned out we didn't need for a surgery, just doctor's visits). We parked on Floor 2, Bird aisle and walked to the surgical center, asking employees on the way how the hell to get to where we were going. Then we checked in and waited. We spent a lot of time waiting. Well, mostly I waited, but Aleks did a bit too. He got to entertain himself by drawing, whereas I was anxious and had trouble reading Return of the King and writing about my breasts for the "anti-Vagina Monologues" feminist theatre production I'm participating in. As he usually does when we have to wait, he drew pictures of monsters and aliens and robots and dragons for all the staff.Monster, tank?, and Reaper.
I waited.
He waited. And watched Transformers and Bakugan Battle Brawlers on TV.
The staff meandered about, waiting, filling out paperwork...
We waited. And watched.

Then we got Aleks dressed in his gown and he was given a preoperative sedative. It quickly took effect and his usual goofiness was multiplied exponentially. I got a call to go talk to the dentist and left Aleks with a nurse for a minute. While I was gone, he bumped his head on the bed rail. Nice.
After awhile, we were lead back to the OR where I got to watch Aleks be put to sleep. His last surgery was when he was 3 years old. It was also an ear tube placement and he was given a sedative and put to sleep with gas in the same way as this surgery. The difference was in his reaction.

At the last surgery, we had not had the opportunity to meet all the nurses beforehand, so when we got to the OR, the room was buzzing with activity as everyone got things prepared. Aleks chose a flavor for his gas mask (which seems to be flavored lip glass they rub on the inside - I had always thought they actually flavored the gas), then they laid him down, put monitors on his chest, a blood pressure cuff on his arm, and when the mask came down over his face the anesthesiologist was singing "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" rapidly and unconvincingly. The whole room was chattering with conversation and noise and machines. Just as the gas flowed out of the mask and Aleks took his first inhalation, his eyes widened in panic at the feel of drowning. I moved to stop them, to protect him as terror suddenly and unexpectedly gripped me. The anesthesiologist assured me his reaction was normal and continued singing. And he was out.

It lasted but a split second, but the fear in his eyes was something I can never forget. He didn't remember it at all and did fine with the surgery, but the moment has haunted me. I thought it was normal and that scared me a bit. I was prepared for the same thing to happen this time.

But, thank goodness, it didn't. Aleks breathed shallowly into the mask and smiled the whole way through, his goofiness shining through (or being hopped up on goofballs - whichever), until he finally got enough to fall asleep calmly and without fear. There was no overwhelming sensation of drowning by having taken too deep a breath in. I was thankful for it.

Once he was asleep, I went back to the waiting room, sat for a minute, then went to find some breakfast. Our plastic surgeon was eating a few tables down from me, but I didn't say hello. He was deep in some conversation with other doctors about maxofilliosomethingorother. I read the section of Return of the King where Eowyn sleighs the lord of the Nazgul, enjoyed my terrible McDonald's breakfast, then sent text messages to all those waiting to hear about Aleks.

When I returned to the waiting room, the otolaryngologist came out almost immediately to tell me he was finished. It's super quick to install ear tubes. He used T tubes this time, so they may last slightly longer than the last set did. There was lots of fluid in Aleks' ears and the drums were retracting. I could tell that he had lost some of his hearing lately and looked forward to knowing that he was simply ignoring me for the sake of ignoring me rather than not hearing me at all.

I read some more, texted people, called Anna, and then was visited by the dentist, done with his portion of the surgery. The two teeth came out easily without cutting and he placed one stitch to help the bleeding. They should heal over completely in a week and be of little trouble at all. By month's end, his mouth will be entirely ready to be messed with again for the installation of his palatal extender, in preparation for the biggest surgery: a bone graft for his gum and hard palate. The bone will be taken from his hip. He'll have to wear the extender for 6 months to a year first, though.

After the dentist took off, I waited anxiously to be paged to go to recovery. They took their sweet time. It was about 30 minutes before I got called back. They said he had woken up in the OR, but he was asleep in recovery. Very asleep.
I read the surgical notes later and it turned out that his "waking up" in the OR had just been his raising his head for five seconds. He didn't look like he'd woken up at all. There was blood on his mouth and just inside his ears, but it was just slight.
A bag on the bed held a jar with his two teeth and a dollar, apparently from the Tooth Fairy. Aleks was later convinced that he should put the teeth under his pillow to get the additional dollar he'd been shortchanged.
He slept for an hour, at least. I pat his back and texted more and read more, but mostly waited impatiently for him to wake up. I started to get exhausted from having so little sleep as well. Finally, he awoke. He said his lips felt weird and asked the time repeatedly. I knew that the time wouldn't much matter to him though as he'd have nothing to relate it to. I looked at the surgical notes to find out how long he'd slept - it was about 2 hours and twenty minutes total. Then he had a popsicle.
His poor little hand was taped up with his IV. His thumb glowed red with the pulseoximeter,
though they said it was like Rudolph.
Finally, we took all the tape and tubes and wires off and got Aleks ready to go home.
He got an escort and a ride back to the car.
Afterward, we had to go to Toys R' Us to buy the Lego Indiana Jones Temple of the Crystal Skull. We got Bastian a bike helmet and a snorkle, both of which he needed. By the time we got home, I was ready to crash.
Aleks and his dad spent the afternoon working on building the new Lego set.
Aleks' recovery was excellent. He was in no pain and decided on his own to eat solid food, which knocked his one stitch out, so he pulled it out to little effect. He does not like his ear drops as they tickle, but he only needs them for three days. He played outside in the late afternoon and was visited by Heather and Steve and our upstairs neighbor. He showed everyone the completed Temple and all the fun stuff it does. He's doing awesome. All the well-wishes are much appreciated and went to good use.

How I Spent My Mother's Day

At my urging, we all piled in the car to head to the Mother's Day Peace Picnic hosted each year by the Peace Action Network. It's been at the India Cultural Garden the last couple of years. We didn't make it last year due to Papa being in Mexico. This year the weather was lovely. There was a bit of a breeze, which made it a tad chilly, but the sunshine kept us warm enough if we sat and soaked it up.

The peace picnic had supplies for making cards for mamas, which the boys got straight to work on. They both wore capes, as they are wont to do.
Meanwhile, there was a program which included a presentation by Rosa Parks. We stood to listen for a bit, but the boys lost interest, as ever. After her presentation, a woman sang a song in Hindi about motherly love.
Then free food was served, including vegan desserts from Food Not Bombs. After eating, I folded a couple of paper cranes for peace and told the story of Sadako and the Thousand Paper Cranes to Sebastian.
I signed a postcard to end the war, which was sent to the president.
I especially like the bottom, "Another Mother for Peace." Yeah, that's it.
They photographed us standing beneath the statue of Ghandi from two angles due to the changing light and printed both out for me to take home.
All of this was free.
After that, we headed to Peace Park for some running around. The boys needed to go to bed early to prep for Aleks' surgery, so exhausting them as much as possible seemed like the right move to make.

I like this photo because I got Jon to smile.Papa said he wanted to go to the bookstore to buy a book, having finished all The Lord of the Rings plus The Hobbit.
At the bookstore, the boys had hot chocolate and I picked up a gift for Heather. I wrapped it in some of the art from the Painting, Not with Paintbrushes art day then added her name with lightning bolts. Her name should always be written thusly.
After dinner (take out Italian), I took the gift to Heather at our local bar while she worked and I had a glass of wine by myself. Then I went to bed far earlier than usual so as to get up before dawn to take Aleks to surgery.

Saturday, In Brief

After a Friday night sleepover, Aleks, Jonas, and Bastian spent many more hours playing Lego (and making LOTS of noise!!!!). When their mom showed up, Lavinia took a photo of us in the kitchen.
To give us something to do and wear out the crazy energy of little boys, Aleks, Bastian, and I walked to the coffee shop (I was in desperate need of coffee). Aleks spent his time drawing pictures for everyone there, hanging them on the wall with all his other drawings, and even giving one to our bartender friend who put it up in the bar next door. Bastian spent some time reorganizing the cooler.

Then Aleks did some math.
And Felicia taught him a nifty trick for 9 times tables before discovering that he was only 6 and being thoroughly impressed with him. As she always is.
On the way home, Aleks asked to jump on the trampoline again. He's asked multiple times, but there was no one about to ask. Today, there just happened to be a house-sitter grilling out who said that as long as I supervised, he was a-okay with it. So jump the boys did.