There's a discussion about unschooling teens on one of the message boards I host and I thought I'd copy one of my comments here, not so much since it mentions Ray, but because it gives a good sense of my "attitude" about unschooling in general and why I think its valuble.

If you're interested in reading more on the subject of unschooling with teenagers, here's a link to a massive site with tons of information:
http://sandradodd.com/teen/


"rebekah byson" wrote:
>> My hope is to raise my boys in as conscientious a way as possible that they
> will be much more open to other worldviews and have some interest in
> whatever surroundings they find themselves.

The last phrase, there, really jumps out at me - so many teens, especially kids who don't drive or have access to transportation, are in "whatever situations they find themselves" - they don't have much say in whether or not they're going to be in those situations, period. At best, they "have permission" to do something they want to do. So its totally natural that they wouldn't take much interest in those surroundings, much of the time, would spend their time withdrawing into things they can choose - talking with friends or playing games, or whatever.

There are a lot of ways that Ray still doesn't have a whole lot of control over his world. We're down to one decent car and one ratty old truck that leaks oil, so his world's smaller than any of us would like it to be, right now. But even so, he has a lot of choice about where he's going to go and what he's going to do there. Because he can choose them, he's interested in his surroundings. He's able to be "present". When he doesn't have a sense of autonomy, he's not nearly as present. How can he be?

> [my friend's] teen daughter was conventionally parented and schooled and he complains
> at times about her lack of listening and being open to other cultures or
> lifestyles. I have had this girl at my house several times and she is lovely
> but does have the dull blankness that I see in teens. Her cellphone and
> ipod being much more interesting to her then anything we "lame"adults are
> talking about.

She's spent years being told that her passions are inappropriate -that's the worst message of conventional parenting, imnsho. Children, even very young children, can be very passionate people, but conventional wisdom says that's bad - nobody, outside unschoolers, even uses the word passion wrt children. They "get sucked into" something. They "become obsessed". They "get addicted".They are allowed to love academics and sports, but even then - passion? Its a dirty word applied to children.

So their lives get broken up into schedules and play time and screen time and cleanup time and dinner time and family time. They don't*get* to be passionate, even in secret, not even in the privacy of their own minds bc they must speak when spoken to and answer the question and "be a part of the family" and "what do you mean "nothing" what have you been doing?"

The biggest thing learning about radical unschooling has done for me is to allow me to see my kids as passionate people. That one thing lets me reframe everything else - Everything Else becomes a question of how I'm going to go about supporting these passionate people I live with.

transforming

This morning our neighbors came by to check in with us about Ray, since he's off at his mom's for a couple days (she's out of town, but has high speed internet). It was an interesting conversation, one that Ray had specifically asked us to have, but didn't want to be around for. Our neighbor, Mirror, has been taking a sort of mentoring role in Ray's life, and wanted to check in about some details. Specifically, details involving a ceremony to mark Ray's transitioning from boy to man. I'm not going to share those details, the important part is that this is something Ray wants to do, and is excited about, and wants his parents to know about and be okay with but not really Involved with. I'm utterly charmed.

According to Mirror, Ray's mom was less charmed at the idea that she didn't get to be a part of the ceremony - which had both George and Mirror snorting "Yeah, like anyone wants his Mommy at his Manhood ceremony". I can feel a little compassion for poor mom, there, but at the same time, I'm soooooooooo amazed and impressed and honored just to have Ray want me/us know whats going on with him. Its so very different from the "normal" teenage boy thang, iykwim.

In addition to Big changes, there seem to be a hundred little changes a day. He's craving work and focus and artistic expression. His jewelry making has been shifting from pounding metal to delicate beadwork. He's playing bass daily and even picking up a guitar now and then. He's talking less and cogitating more. He's thinking about thinking - starting to explore the intricacies of his own processes and reactions. His bigger, cosmic thoughts are starting to have more to do with himself as a spiritual entity than the existance of god(s).

I'm so very glad that Mirror is right here, available to Ray and to us during this time. Its so perfect that he has an adult he trusts and can talk about anything with - even those things that would be sort of uncomfortable with his parents. Even moreso that its someone George and I can trust, too.

The Skull of Skoldjir

Rayan has an exciting new project. He's writing a book. Its about a group of Viking-esque dragonslayers. He's several chapters into it and having a good time so far. His writing is pretty basic so far - short on description, but long on plot, but that makes it easy to read. I could wish some other authors had better plotting skills, including some of my favs. Here's an excerpt:

Chapter Three: Preparation

The next morning when Thorsten woke up, He nudged Valkyrie. “Let’s go get Ingdor, eat breakfast, and talk to the king,” he said. Ingdor was standing in front of his window. “I see your awake, Ingdor,” said Thorsten.
“Yes, I have been for quite some time. I’m starved. Let’s see what there is to eat here,” replied Ingdor. As they entered the dining hall, they were welcomed by shouts from their crew.
“Hey, Thorsten! Try these potatoes! They’re wonderful!” cried one of the crew members.
“And the ham is good too!” cried another. They sat down and began to eat. As soon as they were finished, a messenger entered room
“Sir Thorsten, the king wishes to see you” said the messenger.
“Very well,” said Thorsten. He, Valkyrie, and, Ingdor followed the messenger to the throne room.
“I wish to speak with Thorsten alone,” said the king.
“Valkyrie and Ingdor will be accompanying me fully during this quest. Whatever you wish to say to me, you can say to them,” said Thorsten.
“Fair enough,” said the king.
“Now, where is this dragon you wish us to slay, and what shall be the reward?” asked Thorsten.
“The dragon’s name is Skjoldir, currently residing in the north. I will provide you enough food and drink to get there and back, along with three Fangthaine. Your reward will be enough gold to pay your crew and to last the three of you a lifetime,” said the king.
“I ask one more thing of you,” said Thorsten.
“What might that be?” asked the king.
“Have one of your men lead my crew back to my ship. Leave them food, water, and mead. I do not wish to leave my ship alone,” replied Thorsten.
“It shall be done, but what if you fail?” said the king.
“Then my ship is yours,” replied Thorsten.
“Prepare for your journey. I have made a map to Skjoldir’s skull,” said the king.
“His… skull?” asked Valkyrie
Thorsten, Valkyrie, and Ingdor departed to their rooms to prepare themselves.

Now we're cooking with Ray

Another magazine article (he's such great material):

It all started with the jello.

Ray had been living with us for a month or so and staunchly insisting that he couldn’t cook - “I ruin everything! I can’t even boil water!” He’d had some less than successful experiences being “taught” to cook by his mom. So we reassured him that he didn’t have to cook anything, and there things sat until it got cold and Morgan decided it was time to learn about the microwave. Suddenly the kitchen was full of steaming cups of water, milk, juice, some with coco powder, some not. Mo’s usual process. It got Ray’s attention.

“Hey, you could make jello with the microwave!” Um, yeah, you certainly could, should we buy some jello? “Wow, Really? Yeah. Wow. Really? Cool.” Jello had been a banned food in his previous life. We bought lots of jello. And Ray began, tentatively, to cook.

It seems like such a little thing – just powder and hot water. At the time I did a bit of justifying to myself and friends. I blathered about autonomy and confidence and deschooling and self esteem. Not that those things aren’t important, but my reaction had more to do with my own deschooling process than anything else. Somewhere in my head was a voice crying “Its only Jello! Its not even really a food!” and I worked hard not to let Ray hear that voice. He had his own voices and occasionally expressed the same sentiment – “its not really cooking”. And at first that was what he needed to think: I can’t cook, but This isn’t Cooking, so its okay.

In due course, jello became Ramen noodles became boxes of macaroni and cheese. That was a big step along the way – turns out its much easier to make mac-n-cheese on the stove than in the microwave. Suddenly Ray was cooking with gas! Although he still denied the “cooking” part. Boxes of mac-n-cheese led to cans of soup and ravioli – things he actually had to attend to so they would cook without burning. But he could still claim they weren’t *really* cooking. Just heating things up.

And then, one night, it happened. Almost a year after the inaugural jello-making Ray walked into the living room and asked:

“So… do you cook the spaghetti first or make the sauce first?” My jaw hit the floor. He’s making Dinner?

It was happening! The magic of unschooling was happening! All the pieces came together. All the months of seemingly not-cooking gelled into a new reality. George was sick, I was worn out from my new job and Ray was hungry. And instead of fixing himself a can of soup decided to cook dinner for the whole family.

Like everything else, it seems, unschooling cooking is all about letting go of attachments to particular outcomes. In his own time and way, Ray had been learning to cook all along. Now he was ready for another step.

His first family meal, social being that he is, arrived with a string of questions while I sat on my hands and chanted “autonomy looks like This today” in my head.

Which size pot do I use?
How much water do I put in it (about 2/3 full – no problem! take That school!)
How much of an onion do I chop up? (vegetables? He’s including vegetables?)
Is this small enough?
What other vegs can I put in?
What size can of tomatoes?
Diced or sauce?
Am I supposed to add spices?
Where’s the measuring spoons?
How long do these noodles cook?
How do you tell if they’re done?
Do you like it?

All of a sudden (this is what autonomy looks like today) the boy who always needed lots and lots of help only needed information. He needed a Lot of information, but he Didn’t need to be shown or reassured or helped. Just some questions answered.
His first spaghetti was somewhat more al dente than our usual, but otherwise a complete success. We talked about strategies for knowing if the noodles were “done” and he was (thankfully) grossed out by George’s suggestion of throwing them against the wall. We talked about cooking the onions first and the option of adding tofu or tvp to the sauce. More information sharing.

Within a week he was making our other vegetarian family staple – beans. This hearty, unglamorous dish is paired with a starch (corn chips or rice or flour tortillas) and a vegetable, which is often mixed in. Simple stuff, but it gave him two family meals, and our most regular meals at that. Add the occasional homemade pizza and Ray had become a contender for the position of family cook.

The “downside” to this new adventure is that George also likes to cook. He especially likes to cook the simple, nutritious foods we all enjoy eating – the same foods Ray is now cooking. They’ve had to do a bit of negotiating about who “gets” to cook dinner, and I’ve had to put in a request for a little more variety. But even the downside has its advantages - if nothing else, I get the satisfaction of having my menfolk competing to feed me.

social guy

This is reprinted from a magazine article.

My kids have better social skills than I do. That’s humbling, but not really unexpected. Its one of the reasons I wanted to keep them out of school in the first place – neither I or their dad learned any useful social skills from school. I’m often smug about my 5yo daughter’s social skillfulness for this reason and can easily believe that unschooling has given her opportunities to develop and hone skills that she wouldn’t have otherwise. My stepson, however, challenges me to see the whole issue of social skillfulness from a different perspective. Unlike my daughter, he has endured school-at-home and public school and has only recently become an unschooler and full-time resident in our unschooling home.

Before we started unschooling and before he came to live with us I had a hard time seeing Ray’s social skills for what they were. In a blog entry, shortly after he moved in, I even commented that “interpersonal intelligence” must surely be different from “extroversion”. Ray has always been an extrovert, but in a world of schoolish expectations, his extroversion was problematical outside of very constrained boundaries. Ray always seemed to be outside those boundaries. He questioned and challenged and had his own opinions. Not satisfied with the small amount of attention granted him by his parents and step-parents, he clamored for more. Not content to be disregarded by a room full of adults, he demanded center stage at every party or social gathering, even if he had to explode to get it.

Looking back on those days from an unschooling perspective, I can see a boy with high social needs valiantly striving to get those needs met, and frequently succeeding. Unfortunately his success came at the price of his self-esteem. In order to be noticed, he had to be “the bad kid”.

It is interesting that the person who first got to see Ray’s very real social skillfulness was his grandmother, Janet, who sent me an email in response to my first blogged concern. He had spent a week with her for the first time with none of his parents along. Here’s what she had to say:

“The week Ray spent with me this summer was without any of the usual behavioral issues. He was charming and friendly and thoughtful the whole week. There was one dinner party we went to where I was a little worried since it was mostly older folks. But Rayan was mellow and polite. He had a joke he wanted to tell that was pretty political, so he ran it by me first to make sure it would be okay for that group. Then he waited for an appropriate moment in the flow of conversation to tell it and got a good laugh. I was pretty impressed. “

Its worth noting that the incident she describes occurred almost six months before Ray began unschooling. Its tempting to think that unschooling could have “produced” his skillfulness. But Ray had always had the raw ability and had been learning the skills despite the many obstacles we laid in his path. At his grandmother’s, away from parents and school and on vacation, Ray was able to step outside his “bad-kid” reputation for once and just be Ray. And shine.

I think this is why new unschoolers are often presented with the suggestion to “act like its summer vacation”. I had dull summers as a kid, so the statement was baffling to me for a long time, but living with Ray it makes a lot more sense to me. Even many non-unschoolers can see Ray as Ray in a “vacation” context. It’s a matter of expectations.

From my back porch, I can see two trees, the colors of whose leaves, if they were a blouse and slacks, would clash horribly. Yet I look at these two trees and don’t see a painful example of un-coordination, but a tranquil and lovely view of nature. Expectations.

For years we expected Ray to be a blouse and slacks, as it were. He wouldn’t, couldn’t capitulate – why should he? Why should someone who is vivid and alive behave like an inanimate object? Now that we can see Ray as a whole, living, colorful person, we don’t need those expectations. Unschooling gives us the context to see Ray.

In an unschooling context, since Ray isn’t expected to place others’ interests before his own, he has the freedom to look beyond his own interests. No longer expected to listen, for example, Ray is free to converse. That in itself has made a big difference in his ability to explore and learn on his own terms. When Ray is able to exchange information in an easygoing, conversational manner, he learns almost effortlessly. More than that, knowing that I and his dad don’t expect him to listen deferentially to adults (us or others) Ray has a far easier time shrugging off the kind of normal adult rudeness to kids that used to set him off. Free from the expectation of deference, Ray is gracious.

In the nine months he’s lived with us full-time, I’ve had a number of opportunities to see Ray’s innate graciousness shine out. This spring, in particular, we had a group of guests who seemed to believe that they should teach Ray something every time they saw him, albeit gently.

These sorts of situations are challenging to me. I can see the power differential, the imposed expectations and the outright injustice, but don’t always have the skills, myself, to diffuse things. I’ve been pleasantly surprised to discover that Ray does – provided he feels supported by an adult he cares about. He doesn’t even need all that much in the way of support, if anything, just the realization that I’m not jumping in on the side of the other grown-up or indicating that Ray should listen up and pay attention is enough to give him the confidence to deflect or ignore the “lesson”.

Maybe its because he’s seen me fly to his rescue only to metaphorically trip over all my left feet in the process. He knows he’s better at this stuff than I am. As I said before, its humbling.

Seeing Ray outside of (my own) schoolish expectations has also allowed me to see his “boisterousness” in a new light. Now that attention is being offered him, and he isn’t having to literally jump up and down and yell to get his connection needs met and there’s no expectation of deference to adults, I can see Ray using his own physical skillfulness as an adjunct to his social skillfulness.

I saw this more than once with our guests. Ray would do or say something casual, and the guest would take that as an invitation to tell Ray about “the ways of the world”, maybe shame him a little, all for the purpose of teaching him a lesson. Rather than returning words for words and getting in an argument, Ray would jump up and do something dramatic and physical, some trick or stunt that would stop the conversation for a little bit, shift the energy of the group, and change the subject all at once.

The most impressive thing about this particular strategy, is that adults don’t see it as anything but a kid doing a trick. It took me a couple times to realize the “trick” went beyond the physical.

Another area we get to see this interplay of expectations and social skillfulness has to do with younger children. Ray’s mom considers him a disaster with younger kids, one of the reasons she finally acquiesced to his moving to our house permanently. She and I don’t communicate with each other very well, but we do have some mutual friends who have often painted a picture for us of Ray’s “problems” with his younger brother and a few other local children. The stories are pretty consistent and follow these lines:

“Ray refuses to set a good example for the younger children. He won’t ever accommodate them, he hates to play with them, and he still thinks he should be the center of attention!”

Quite a load of expectations there. Funny to see that he’s really dealing with these children the way he was treated at the same age. When a kid does it, everyone can see just how ugly that sort of behavior can be, but its normal adult behavior towards children.

Contrast this with a phone call I received just recently from a non-unschooling family with a younger child who sometimes take Ray waterskiing:

“Ray is so much fun! And he’s just great with our little girl. He’s kind and thoughtful and really helps out a lot. He’s an absolute darling. Is he as helpful with your daughter (Yes, as a matter of fact, he is.) Well, you’re very lucky to have such a fabulous kid.”

Aren’t we, though? Luckier to be able to see, at long last, just what a fabulous guy he is, and be able to work with him to find more ways to help him shine.

finally fall

and back on days. As in, Ray's no longer a vampire. The temperature has cooled significantly and its starting to feel like fall - in a good way. A few weeks back Ray commented that he was, for the first time in years, looking forward to the change of the season, now that its not all about "back to school" for him. That was nice to hear.

Unfortunately, he ended up not going with me to the Live and Learn Conference in NC. That was kind of a bummer, but my grandfather died and we (Mo and I) ended up going to his funeral Labor Day weekend - which was in MA - and going to the conference from there. Kind of a long drive and dull several days of waiting from Ray's perspective, so he opted out. The conference was fun, but the room and food situation would have been pretty stressful for Ray, it turned out, so I'm glad he missed that part, even though I'm bummed he didn't get to meet the really cool teens there.

Anyway, we're back to plotting trips to the skatepark and some other outings. While we were on the road, Mo discovered "claw" machines - you know, put a quarter in and cuss at the thing when if fails to grab a toy - and I suggested that we collect quarters at home for a trip to Walmart or some such just to play the claw. As soon as we got home Ray happened to comment that he hadn't ever eaten at IHOP, so now I'm scheming - there's an IHOP next to Walmart in Murfreesboro, maybe we can make a day of it.

Yup, that's what "field trips" look like in my world LOL! Hey kids! lets go out to eat and play some arcade games! Woo Hooo! And naturally, I'll find a way to tag this for the "learning plan" thingy... hmmm, lets see, we're still broke, so we'll need to set aside some cash to eat out, plus the Quest for Quarters (although that's more a Mo thing) - hey this isn't even hard. Real life actually does provide real learning opportunities. I just have to drive!

Okay, I'm in a whimsical mood, today, but this is the sort of thing I run into over and over in our family's journey deeper into the wilds of autodidacticism - once there's no need to play the school game there are countless learning opportunities everywhere! I actually found myself worrying about that a few weeks ago, especially with the vampire thing going on, but even then Ray was spending hours reading (!) on the computer, playing God of War (Greek mythology, problem solving, blood and guts), going to live musical events and waterskiing regularly. I could have wished for "summer school" that fabulous as a kid.

And to top it all off, summer vacation isn't ending for Ray, its just the shift from "waterskiing season" to "skateboarding season". He's been hunting for his boards and checking out his equipment all week.

general newsiness

Ray's back to vampire hours, for the most part. Between the opressive heat and his allergies, it just makes more sense. He's still able to go waterskiing and do other sorts of daytime activities if they're planned ahead of time - the resilience of youth an' all! He can miss a day of sleep and make it up later. Currently he's going to bed around 7am, which is kind of nice. We get to see him for breakfast.



Our lovely neighbors, Mirror and Shiloh, have returned from their summer travels bringing, among other things, wick-tape for Ray's fire staff. I think I listed Mirror as one of my resources in the "learning plan" - although not by name. He's our friendly neighborhood "Professional Juggler" who has been an invaluble help to Ray in learning to spin the staff, balance assorted objects, and work with fire. He's a long time busker, so in addition to technical assistance, he has lots of handy advice about such topics as schtik and patter. Ray's mostly not interested in busking at this point, but he's been pretty polite about not shutting Mirror down when he has something to say. I'm hoping Ray will feel confident enough in his fire twirling to bring his staff to the Live and Learn Conference in a few weeks. We shall see.



Saturday evenings, Ray has been going to the local coffee-house with George and our neighbors. Shiloh is a singer-songwriter and she and Mir and George often play a set there. Its not really the sort of music Ray is drawn to, but he seems to enjoy going none-the-less. I think seeing his dad perform is kind of novel to him. Its novel to me! I've seen him jam with other musicians plenty of times, but lately he's been getting on stage more and more, and not just as "the bass player". He's been singing and playing guitar and mandolin. Not really new for George, but something he hasn't done in years so I'm glad Ray's getting to see another side of his dad.