
Don't think of them as kids. Childhood exists, but it's over long before we allow it to be. I'd start to worry if my kid were noticeably childish past the age of seven and if by twelve you aren't dealing with young men and women anxious to take their turn, disgusted with training wheels on anything, able to walkabout London, do hundred mile bike trips, and add enough value to the neighborhood that they have an independent income; if you don't see that, you're doing something seriously wrong . . . Don't buy into the calculated illusion of extended childhood. It's a great secret key to power--power for your kids if you turn the tables on their handlers. And adolescence is a total fraud, a pure concoction of social engineers barely a century old. --Weapons of Mass Instruction, John Taylor GattoLately I've done a lot of reading on peer orientation and the myth of adolescence. Did you know that being adolescent is a relatively new concept in our cultural lexicon? It wasn't "always thus." Historically one was either a child or an adult with the age of adulthood being around 12 or 13.
Steve and I have this unformed notion that they really are more capable than what we give them credit for. Instead of creating fabricated situations that simulate responsibility, accountability, and consequences we should give them real life work and let them experience real life consequences. Think "family kitchen" instead of "Easy Bake Oven." So we are experimenting with handing over responsibility to the kids for much of their school work, maintenance of their things and spaces. I must stress here that we are in uncharted territory for us and we really have no clue what we're doing.
So, let me tell you where we started--it should provide rich fodder for a cautionary tale down the road or be a wild success. It could go either way. This is complicated and I'm still trying to find words for it, so if you have the stomach for it, stick with me . . .
Responsibility for their education:
I had previously cut out the "pre-digestion" of information in our school work (meaning I read and plan and then present the ideas and create pre-determined connections, parceling out the information in the form of worksheets, tests, text books, etc for them to "learn") and moved to the CM method of narrating and allowing them to digest the material themselves and make connections on their own from challenging literature of the best quality. It's a beautiful and natural way of learning.
Still I was choosing the books and assigning the readings for each day. It was becoming clear that Makenna would rather immerse herself in a book or subject and I slowed her down and took away her initiative--which she has plenty of. So our first task was to give the planning, pacing, and choices for their education to the kids. Using CM as our skeleton, I guided each one of them setting up their notebooks where they record their daily work. I helped them determine the items they were to do every day based loosely on the expectations that the State requires us to cover (math; a reading from Bible, literature, science, biography, and history; written narrations; copywork and dedication) and allowed them to choose what area they wanted to focus on in their subjects and helped them choose books to fill each requirement.
I took all the school books that were separated to each child according to the year they were working on and integrated them all onto the book shelves in the den. I told them they didn't have to continue reading them right now if they didn't want and that they could read any of the books that were previously on their sister's shelves. This was hard for me but I desperately want them to keep their passion for learning--which we all know is self-directed and can not be orchestrated by an outside source (in this case, their mother). Here's the cool thing: as soon as I de-regulated their book choices they picked up those same books on their own and read them in their free time with joy. I've learned that if I tell them they have to read the book they'll do so because they so desperately want to please, but they don't enjoy it and probably aren't getting much from it. If I make the books available and leave the choice to read or not up to them (and remove the TV) they'll eventually pick up those books on their own and love it. I know, most of you are say, "Well, duh." But how many of us can trust that process and let go? Let me tell you, even for an anti-establishment homeschooling mom like myself, it's damn hard.
Responsibility for their meals:
Now to take this a step further. We've been requiring the girls to help with a day of KP (kitchen patrol) where they are my helper in the kitchen for food prep and cleanup for the day. They help mom implement the menu she planned, she shopped for, and dad paid for.
The other day I gave Maddie my grocery list and the cart and followed behind her as she did the shopping. In the meantime I've been letting the girls make dinner for themselves and Charlie. Which led to what I think is call the "light bulb" moment (it was mine, not theirs). They are capable of so much more than I allow. I put artificial training wheels on everything they do. So we're going to start with this. We are giving them the evening meal to plan, prepare and clean up after. They have $30 cash to buy the groceries for 5 meals. We're going shopping today and next week is their first week. They know I'm here to help if they need me, and of course we'll drive them to the grocery and keep them in sight as they shop, but otherwise my role is to butt out and let them learn on their own, let them make mistakes, let them succeed.
Responsibility for their clothes:
Yesterday, while I tried to cajole the kids to help me fold THEIR laundry (which I kindly sorted, washed and dried), Steve quietly announced that they were hereby responsible for their own laundry and that I was not to do it anymore. So they are now in charge of figuring out how to get it done (they already know how to start the washer and dryer). Again I'm here to help plan or problem solve if they want it, but I'm going to step back and let them take responsibility. The natural consequences for this one: you don't go if you don't have clean clothes to wear. Now Makenna wasn't too happy with this one. She wrote Steve this note:
Although we had a talk about how giving them ownership over their things is NOT like the pigs in Animal Farm, I was beaming with joy over her literary reference.For further reading:
The Case Against Adolescence by Robert Epstein, Ph.D.
Do Hard Things by Alex and Brett Harris
Hold On to Your Kids by Godon Neufeld
Dumbing us Down by John Taylor Gatto
Weapons of Mass Instruction John Taylor Gatto
The Case Against Adolescence by Robert Epstein, Ph.D.
Do Hard Things by Alex and Brett Harris
Hold On to Your Kids by Godon Neufeld
Dumbing us Down by John Taylor Gatto
Weapons of Mass Instruction John Taylor Gatto
2 comments:
You should seriously write a book. Or just publish this blog. Good stuff.
Animal Farm, eh? I thought there was something funny going on there...
Post a Comment