Image from Oxherd Boy on Instagram.
I don't talk about our homeschooling (eh herm unschooling) journey too often. Maybe that's because... I don't usually think what we do is too radical. Especially during the Global Panini, when our world shrank to the size of our household. We are living our lives as a family. Daily. Whether we are prepared for it and chugging along... or not.
I am also constantly humbled by the homeschool and unschool voices who inspired me to follow my guts down this path of parenting. Kelly Hogaboom and fam were the first unschooling family I was ever able to meet in person. (Yes. I gush about them often. You would too if you knew what's good for you!) Idzie Desmarais is an inspiring and talented human that writes eloquently from the perspective of a grown unschooler. I also look to Akilah Richards often; a powerhouse of community resources. Not just for BIPOC families, but for all families working to abolish oppressive frameworks. She is a fiery visionary and advocate for raising Free People. I do not hold these humans on pedestals, but instead I am so grateful for the energy they invest in this community of education anarchists. (I also appreciate they offer SO MANY GIFTS of free resources. When you support ME, you should know I also support THEM, just FYI...)
So what could I possibly contribute? A simple Student among giants of Radical Unschooling. I'm just over here, adapting these pedagogies and experimenting on my own family. What would an outsider see if they were to observe our time in "the classroom?"
It depends on the day. And the onlooker's sincere interest in understanding. I no longer teach my kids with the intention of conspicuous instruction.
If I could narrate, David Attenborough style, overtop our lives, I would want one thing to be clear to the audience;
I am teaching leisure.
Sometimes it feels like the whole damn world is yelling about Productivity! Optimized Learning! Teaching Opportunities! Setting Kids Up For Success!
But what if... my measure of success was different?
My success looks like a son who surprises me in supermarkets and crowded coffee shops with the tightest, breath-stopping squeezes because he has assessed (correctly) that I "need a hug."
My success looks like a teen who pulls me into her bed when I stop in to wake her up. A teenager who feels free and safe to tell me about her dreams. And her nightmares.
My success is being able to take the dog outside, decide it is too gorgeous out to ignore, and rally the troops to go dick around at the playground for a few hours.
(photo credit to L- capturing my new favorite outfit, upside-down.)
This is a life worth living. Of course I work (doing what I love- caring for families, making art, writing bullshit opinions on the internet), I keep our house hygienic, I pay bills, and I worry about what the outside world will think when my kids leave our secure little domestic utopia to strike out on their own...
(My v. v. luxurious dishwashing setup while building my new kitchen.)
This is my learning too, I realize. Here I am, every single day, learning how to trust the people my kids already are. I want them to continue being the intensely interested, passionate, creative, and disciplined people I deeply adore.
Nobody taught me as a child to trust in my abilities. There was a lot of words about about how I would be so successful if I just did this or that job, graduated with this or that certification. Through this practice of leisure, I am learning how to be successfully me. I've learned more on this path, and the hours are much more flexible. I'm not here to argue the value of academia. I'm here to share that Being outside of Doing is a practice worth keeping.
These are the lessons we are learning together.
I am so grateful you have found yourself here. My writing and artwork is a gift I share freely because I literally Can't Not. If this work is meaningful to you, please know every penny you toss my way is meaningful to me and helps me to feel empowered to live my most authentic life. AND every like, share, comment and message lets me know you care. Thank you for being here.