Posts

Thursday, 25 June 2015

Unschooling Exemption Application

My ego was suitably stroked this week when the Ministry of Education called me to ask me if they could use my exemption application as an example on a new section of their website designed to help parents navigate the application process. So, I thought I'd include it here.



Application for exemption from enrolment at a registered school for Louis Kessels

Our Family

Our Family is currently made up of me, Trudy Kessels, my husband, Ron Kessels, Louis, my six-year-old son, Joss, my two-year-old daughter, my mother who is very involved with our lives, and Isa our black Labrador.

Our Careers

I am a homeopath with my own clinic where I see clients for 17 hours every week. My skills as a homeopath include observing people, active listening, assessing, and monitoring. These particular skills are transferable to my role as an unschooling parent.
My husband is a sound engineer working in the live music industry, so he travels a lot with bands on tours both nationally and internationally. We try to maintain the same rhythm whether he is at home or not so that there is consistency for the children. Ron’s skills as a sound engineer include monitoring people’s needs, responding to them, thinking quickly outside the square to problem solve, and remaining calm under pressure. These skills are transferable to his role as an unschooling parent.

Our Approach to Parenting and Learning

We have been parenting in a consensual manner, which for us means respecting each person in the family as much as we can, since the children were born and have found that home education, and in particular unschooling, fits in best with how we relate with our children.

The first “evidence” I had that children will learn something by themselves was when we were on holiday in Australia in the summer of 2013-14. We had hired a holiday home with a pool. Prior to this Louis had been quite nervous about swimming, and unable to put his head under. Well, that holiday he asked to go swimming about four times a day, and just by that exposure, enthusiasm, motivation and proximity to the pool, he learned to float, to swim underwater, to jump in from the edge and to enjoy swimming – all with minimal instruction from anyone else. I had been skirting around the edges of unschooling for some time, but that experience made me delve deeper into it and find examples of people who were doing it in a way I could relate to.

On our journey to unschooling Ron and I have been inspired by education experts such as John Holt, Alfie Kohn, Sir Ken Robinson, and the experienced unschoolers in the Shine with Unschooling community, namely Pam Larrichia, Anna Brown, Anne Ohman and Kirsten Fredericks. These people and their writing provide support for us as we navigate this journey. The collective knowledge of local unschooling families is a resource that we tap in to every time we meet up, and the collective knowledge of the world-wide unschooling community is a resource that we can access through email groups and groups on Facebook.

I believe that an extension of our parenting is providing an environment in which education/learning is a rich and lively experience. This kind of education has at its heart a goal of ensuring that Louis has all the tools he needs navigate the world in any way that he chooses to. Ensuring that he has the knowledge, or the tools to obtain more knowledge, to do anything he sets his mind to. It is my job as a parent to ensure that the Louis that navigates the adult world in as healthy (in all aspects of the word: physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually, academically) manner as he wants to be. This means that I have made a commitment to parent in this manner indefinitely.

Curriculum and Assessment

As an unschooling family, we will not be following a set curriculum. Louis will learn things every day that excite him and engage him. Louis is a strongly independent learner, as was evident in his approach to learning to swim, and is evident every day. I see that he becomes immersed in something that he is working out (learning) and if someone were to try and direct him (teaching) it stops his natural flow, and it seems to irritate him that he has been disrupted. However, if he gets to a point where he needs help and asks for it, he is ready for external influence and incorporates this easily into his learning trajectory, ready once more to immerse himself in the flow. Because Louis regularly demonstrates this to me, I have become confident in his ability to self-direct his learning
I have complete trust that he will learn everything he needs to learn by following his curiosity. I intend to support his natural curiosity by providing materials such as books, experiences, information, and more (see Our Learning Resources) as and when he needs it. Because I am with him everyday, talking with him and engaging with him, I will be able to identify when those things need to be introduced. Because of my near-constant involvement with Louis, formal evaluations of his learning will not be necessary – these evaluations will be informal: every day interactions to see where he is at and where he’d like to go. We often talk about our day as we lie in bed together at night, winding down. He will often use this time to ask me questions about things which he is pondering, or things which he can’t quite reconcile. For example, before Christmas we went to an open-air cinema screening of the nature documentary One World. Last night I was saying “good night, my daughter” to Joss, and “good night, my son” to Louis. Louis stopped me and asked me,
“What’s the other word for daughter?”
I wasn’t sure what he meant, so I asked him, he said
“When we went to that movie, that was outside, about the animals, they had a different word for daughter… what’s another way to say that Joss is a girl?” he asked.
“Oh!” I said, “Do you mean ‘female’?”
“Yes!” he said, and, “what’s the boy word?”
“Male.”
“Yes” he said, satisfied.

Records

Records will be kept in an ad hoc manner, as and when we naturally feel like recording something. This often happens when Louis would like to send a photo to Ron (who works away from home a lot), or his overseas grandparents. I often keep the examples of Louis’s “firsts” – for example I have kept the picture he drew that was his first drawing of “something” rather than abstract designs. He often wants to sit at my laptop and practise his typing and these documents also get saved.

Learning Resources

Below is a list of the current resources we have available in our home. These will swell as Louis’s capabilities grow, and his interests expand.

Large book collection of children’s books. (both English & Dutch), travel books, atlas, dictionaries, encyclopedias, non fiction, cook books
Library membership.
Toys: Lot’s of Lego, Duplo, trucks, cars, wooden train and train track, wooden blocks, stuffed animals, dolls.
Games: Pictionary, playing card, Uno, Snakes and Ladders, Domino, Monopoly, different set of memory.
Large collection of puzzles.
Globe and maps of the world.
Brainbox electricity set.
Music Instruments: drum kit, piano, different percussion instruments, ukulele, harmonicas, bongos, microphones.
Large collection of music: IPod, CD’s, radio, sheet music, YouTube, Pandora, Spotify
Computers with broadband, printer, music recording software.
IPad with games, online learning apps for math’s, reading, and music, drawing.
Art Supplies: pencils, pens, markers, crayons, paint, stickers, paper, cardboard, cello tape, glue, chalk, glitter, stamps, poster board, scissors, play dough, colouring & activity books( English & Dutch), ribbon, lace and other fabrics. Binder for art and other works. Dedicated wall space for art work
Television with Netflix membership which has extensive collection of movies and documentaries. YouTube, ITunes. DVD player with DVD’s
Kitchen Equipment, kids and adult cookbooks, measuring cups.
Sandpit with toys and water toys. Balancing bike, ride on toys, lots of balls.
Carpentry tools, wood, bungee’s, rope. Measuring tools.
Gardening tools, vegetable garden.
Sewing machine, fabric.
Parks with playground, BMX track, bike track, rugby field, basketball court and Beach 500m from our house.
Swimming pool within 2km from our house
Nation Aquarium, Museum and Art Gallery within 500m
Outings to beaches, forest, farms, walking tracks story time at the library, bike track, playground, walking with the dog, horse riding classes, gymnastics, rugby, swimming pool, camping, grocery store, markets.
Community events: Art Deco Weekend, music concert, theatre shows, sport games, movie theatre.

Our Rhythm

It is our intention to integrate learning into our every experience. For example, chores are done as a family and thus things such as learning about colours happens when we choose pegs with which to hang out the washing.

At the moment most weeks have a similar rhythm for us. There is a lot of doing things as a family to assist in the running of the house – chores – and activities (listed below) that Louis currently enjoys, and these are punctuated by more formal learning experiences such as boxing, swimming, horse riding and rugby. Although our rhythm is dynamic and always in response to our changing needs, I thought I would provide a guide of what our week might look like, and then give an example of one recent Sunday using this particular day to go into more detail about learning in our everyday lives.

Activities

The activities which Louis is currently interested in include, but aren’t limited to:
Creating with Lego or Duplo
Creating with the BrainBox electronic set
Drawing
Crafting
Writing,
Reading books, individually or with me.
Listening to a Book-on-CD
Playing with the trains
Skype-ing with his father, their extended family
Building forts in the lounge,
Climbing in the back yard
Making ramps in the back yard
Playing in the sandpit
Playing with water in the back yard
Playing with Isa
Gardening,
Watching tv, or engaging with other technology.

Some of these activities need my involvement, and some of them are done independently.

A Week Might Look Like

Please keep in mind that we are a bi-lingual household: both English and Dutch are spoken.

Monday  – chores, any activities that Louis wants to be a part of, a trip to the bike track, community boxing class, one and a half hours with Rose, our home help.

Tuesday – chores and any activities that Louis wants to be a part of, swimming – it’s technically a toddler session but they have all the toys and equipment out and don’t mind that Louis is there, a trip to the bike track/beach, my mother looks after the children while I go to work.

Wednesday – chores and any activities that Louis wants to be a part of, a trip out to an unschooling meet-up where Louis has the opportunity to do gymnastics, rock climbing, crafting, cooking.
Last Wednesday we had a trip to the farm from where we buy our raw milk. The owner of the farm showed us around, talked about their processes, showed us his herd, where they’re milked, how the milk is bottled, and how he takes it to town.
In the afternoon Louis has horse riding for an hour, and my mother has the children while I go to work.

Thursday – chores and any activity that Louis wants to be a part of, grocery shopping where we try to buy as much as possible direct from the producers, so it takes us a few hours to get round everything. Ripper Rugby training. My mother has the children while I go to work.

Friday – chores and any activity that Louis wants to be a part of, library story time, swimming with the home education group, my mother has Louis for a few hours, then movie night where we usually have company.

Saturday – chores, rugby, activities.

Sunday – adventure day. See “An Example of One Typical Day” on page 5

Their time with my mother:
My mother looks after Louis and Joss while I am at work. She usually does one physical activity with them, going to the bike track, or gardening, or walking to the butcher. Often she will offer to do something like painting, or puzzles, reading, crafting, writing. Then she does what we call the “evening shift” so cooks the meal, bathes them and gets them ready for bed – reading stories is a passion of both hers and the children, so this happens a lot.

An Example of One Typical Day

So as to illustrate how we integrate learning into our everyday life, I have chosen to write about an outing that we had two weeks ago. As you will read, it was initiated by Louis and it engaged the whole family.

On Sunday Louis said at breakfast that he’d like to go on one of our Big Long Walks. Last winter we did this every Sunday, and I think the recent drop in temperature reminded him about them, and prompted him to say that he’d like to do it again. So, after breakfast we got ready to go – getting dressed, packing a picnic, a change of clothes, getting the dog ready, choosing bike or scooter, bundling up nice and warm, and eventually leaving the house.

On our way we had continuous discussions about everything, and mostly these conversations centred on what was happening in the environment as we walked through it. We discussed why the leaves turn different colours and eventually fall off the trees, why Granny likes to collect them for the compost, how the trees know to grow new leaves at the end of winter. Louis picked a dandelion seed head and passed it to me, telling me to make a wish, and then telling me it was a dandelion, and then asking me why a dandelion made a wish maker.
We got to the top of a hill and turned and looked back at the five-kilometre path we had taken. Louis oriented himself by using local landmarks, Te Mata Peak, the lights of McLean park, the Norfolk Pines along Marine Parade. We discussed maybe getting some binoculars so that we could try and see our house, which was too small to see without them.

Both Louis and Joss found many fences along the way upon which to walk and practice their balancing, and jump off. They navigated each other, helping each other when needed, and leaving each other alone to get on with it.

Numbers along the way were identified: on letterboxes, on road signs, on parked cars. Letters were also identified – a “No Parking” zone has a corner line that looks like an “L” – “look Mama, there’s an L for Louis”.

When we were nearing the playground that was our half-way point, and the destination for our picnic, both children were hungry and their legs were getting tired, so we talked about how having our picnic lunch would give us more energy for the walk home, about how we needed to make sure we eat enough when we’re doing extra physical activity, and how we need to remember to drink water to keep our cells happy.

The playground was positively teeming with children of all ages, all sharing the equipment as children are naturally drawn to doing. Both Joss and Louis took off and independently found things that interested them. At some point they were both drawn to the see-saw and Louis carefully helped Joss onto her seat, then went down to the other end and carefully pulled it down, knowing that Joss would go up to a height that was probably uncomfortable for her. He gently hopped on and for the first few times helped Joss get used to the feel of the see-saw. And then, when he was sure she was comfortable he had a bit of fun bumping her down. There was a lot of excited laughter. When Joss bumped a bit too far and bounced off the seat and onto the pole, Louis lowered her gently and gave her a moment to get back on the seat. She was very clear that she wanted more!

On our return trip we took a different route and went along the shoreline. Louis and Ron spent a long time watching the waves and counting the sets while Joss was getting sorted on her scooter. We watched as one unsuspecting man stood watching the waves and got SPLASHED and soaked. We were all laughing hard at that one. We walked past the port, which has a functioning railway track and Louis asked lots of questions about the difference between a car and a train and why cars don’t need tracks and why trains don’t need steering. This train of thought (pun intended!) took about 3km to work through. A lot of questions, some repeated until he understood it, and a lot of discussion.

We walked past an ice-cream store and he asked for an ice cream and we said we didn’t have enough money for an ice cream, and so ensued a discussion about how much money we have for food each week, and how much the groceries cost, and how I volunteer at an organic vegetable growers so that we can get paid in vegetables to save us some money, and about how much money we have for extras, and about the takeaways we’d eaten the night before using up our “extra” money for special things.

Louis got to choose our route when we were close enough to home for him to recognise all the different ways we could get there. He chose the way past the Aquarium and we saw children playing in the fountain – they had made a mountain of bubbles in it and we talked about how adding soap to the water makes the bubbles by making a “reaction”.  And about how when he’s doing the dishes at home he likes to make a mountain of bubbles too.

And then we arrived home at about 2pm, had some home-made icecream and rested our weary legs by sitting on the couch watching a movie together.

Our Obligations under section 21 (1) (b) of the Education Act

I realise that in order to ascertain whether we are teaching “as well as in a registered school” you will want to see evidence of the some of the learning areas and key competencies that the Ministry identifies as important. So I have highlighted how literacy, numeracy, science and physical education were learned during this walk, and also how the TRUMP competencies can be identified.

Learning Areas

English and Literacy
There were many moments along the way that the focus was on letters and how we use them to navigate our way through life. Louis is easily able to identify the letters in his own name, because these letters are most relevant to him they engage him and motivate him. Noticing the corner line of the “no parking” zone is illustrative of his constant “making sense of the world” through his particular lens. It is indicative that his brain is making connections between what he learns on paper, or on the computer, and what he sees in the environment around him. His identification of the letter L is not limited to how it looks in one particular font, or written by one particular hand. I think this is a brilliant example of how meaningful learning permeates everyday life for us.
Louis is starting to be interested in what road signs say. STOP, or Give way, or the names of streets. He identifies that there are letters painted on the road that match the letters on the sign. He asks about why we have to stop and some intersections and just give way at others. He asks meaningful questions about why these things need to be on signs, “But why don’t people just stop when they need to?”

Maths and Statistics
Numbers have always been interesting to Louis. Long before he could identify any letters, he could identify that his name and mine both had five letters. He often groups things in this manner.
On our walk he was happy to identify numbers on letterboxes and road signs. Sometimes he would mix them up – a 36 he would say was a 63. He is left-handed and I think that this helps him mirror things. On our walk I would correct him and move on.
Our discussion about budgets have become interesting for Louis in the last few months. He often asks Ron how much money he earned on his last gig, and what that money would be used for – is it going into the food budget? Or the house budget? Or the Card (paying off the credit card)? He understands, through these conversations that the money is finite, that each time we spend money we deduct that from the total we have available. He understands that Ron trades his time and expertise for money for us to live on, and he is appreciative of that.
This didn’t happen on our walk, but I recently was working on my computer while Louis was playing with his lego. I was impressed to hear him work out that because he didn’t have an “eight” piece, he needed to use two “four” pieces.

Science
There were many moments of learning about science on this outing. Balance on the fences and on the seesaw. Physics on the seesaw and other playground equipment. Biology, of plants and also of people when talking about being hungry, or thirsty, or tired. Chemistry when seeing and talking about the bubbles.

Health and Physical Education
We were engaged with our physical bodies all day. Louis was learning about his balance and limits and exhilaration of pushing them. As he does almost every day.

Languages
We were talking both English and Dutch throughout the day.

Key Competencies

Thinking – when he asks probing questions for example why do dandelions grow ”wishmakers”

Relating to others – when he played with Joss on the seesaw

Using language, symbols and text – talking, discussing letterbox numbers, the road signs

Managing Self – communicating when he was tired, self managing eating lunch, self managing what clothes he needed to wear, or when he was cold and needed a jersey, self managing drinking water, unsupervised play at the playground

Participating and Contributing – engaging Ron and I in discussions, engaging with Joss and other children at the playground, deciding which route to take home.

Our Commitment


Parents who choose to learn with their children at home are undertaking a major commitment to support their children in any way that is available to them. We are conscious of this commitment, do not enter into it lightly, and also look forward to spending many years with Louis, facilitating his journey.


Wednesday, 10 June 2015

Breathing, Stretching

In yoga, there’s this thing that they do (I say “they” because I’m not a regular yoga-doer…) where they get into a pose, which may be a little uncomfortable, and then hold it, take a breath, exhale, and find they can take it a little further; their comfort level having just expanded.
My unschooling journey seems to be progressing in this manner. Every time I think, “this is my flow” I take a breath and the universe conspires to take me deeper into understanding my children and this unschooling life.
The most recent “expansion” has come on the back of my previously-tightly-held belief that I’m a hands-off parent. This idea probably came about through The Continuum Concept (TCC), but I think somewhere along the way I modified the philosophy to an extent that it was unrecognisable.
TCC is a huge proponent of family-led parenting. As in, not making the child the centre of attention. It holds that family-led living is the most natural form of living, and that too much child-centredness causes a raft of issues – often violence and acting out.
So I took this and ran with it, and embraced the concept that I didn’t need to focus on my child and to just let them get on with their lives as much as possible. What wasn’t in the book, but was in my way of being, was an emotional detachment from my child. I had been telling myself that although I wasn’t with him all the time, I was available all the time, should he need me. But was I? No, in reality I wasn’t. In reality, sometimes I just had had enough of all the questions and I put my earphones in on our walk to drown out the constant chatter. In my defence, it’s hard to be the only parent around to do all the answering. In my un-defence, how perfectly HORRIBLE it must have been for my son to be so FULL of life and experience and questions and have a mother so completely unavailable.
All of this self-examination started when I was lying in bed one night after a particularly heart-warming chat with Louis, and the thought slipped into my mind, ‘I rely so heavily on these night-time snuggles to connect with Louis, what are we going to do when we don’t have them anymore?’ quickly followed by, ‘WTF??!!’ and ‘I wonder if he’s relying on them too? I wonder if he would like more connection throughout the day, but it’s unavailable to him? I wonder if these precious moments in the evenings and early mornings, when he’s kind and caring and funny and empathetic – I wonder if they’re a direct result of the connection we share by co-sleeping. I wonder if some of the argumentative, mean, violent behaviour we deal with during the day is because he isn’t connected to me? Because I’m not there? Because I’m not engaged with him????’ And I had a Slap My Face moment, with myself. Really, Trudy, it’s taken you how long? Sometimes I am sooooooo dense.
I have always been unable to see myself playing with trains, or role-playing, or playing with lego, or rough-and-tumbling. I have always looked at (or read about) people doing this and thought, that is not for me. It is this part of me that grasped onto that family-led TCC philosophy and ran with it. But, I think what is missing from this family-led real-life scenario in this day and age and culture is, as always, tribe. A tribe would mean that if I was doing something that meant that Louis couldn’t connect with me, there would be countless aunties or grandmothers who would be available. It would mean that if I did chose to put my chore to one side and connect with my son, there would be someone else to pick up where I left off and finish the chore. Tribe would mean that I wouldn’t have such a need to cordon off “space for me” because my cup would be getting filled by my people all around me, by not being over-worked and sleep-deprived, by having an intact continuum myself, so my Joy and Shine were apparent in my everyday. This HUGE part of TCC is missing, and I didn’t think about that, I thought only of how much I disliked playing. BUT, for whom am I doing this? For my kids. For my kids. So that they might grow with the knowledge of who they are firm within them, so they might know joy in being themselves, so they might shine their light unmitigated on their journey and in their world.
So, I am in the phase of that yoga pose where I am exhaling and discovering I can go further. And am discovering how far I can go, and what that feels like, and what the flow on effects are from stretching myself just that bit more. I am experimenting with what it feels like to play, what it feels like to open myself up to engage whenever Louis needs it, what it costs me to do this, and how it feels to let those boundaries dissipate.

I am in the part of the yoga pose when I know I have not reached the edge of my capacity; and the possibilities are stretching with me.

Tuesday, 9 June 2015

Wednesday Column

***Our Paleo Journey***

A couple of years ago we went to the Netherlands for my brother-in-law’s wedding. My son was four years old and still recovering from the upheaval of the arrival of his younger sister. I was managing his emotional outbursts but feeling like my grasp on the situation was tenuous, and his ability to navigate the world was being impeded.

For a few years I belonged to a magnificent on-line community; a group set up specifically to help members respond to every day issues and circumstances through the shared lens of The Continuum Concept. One of the frequent topics was allergies and diets. The variety stretched from raw-vegan to paleo to the three-year-old diet-of-choice: the same thing with no deviation for days on end. So, these wonderful mama’s, for whom I have a lot of respect, introduced me to the idea of paleo, long before I was ready to even think about it.

The first time I heard about paleo my reaction was “You eat what???” and, plaintively, “Bread?” But, by the time I was (not) dealing with my son’s outbursts, and feeling tired and grumpy and sluggish, I was ready to delve into it. And delve I did, and I found a groove that I could follow in, and I got the rest of the family on board, and we decided that we would do it when we got back from Europe.

So, Europe saw us eating Whatever We Wanted. We spent a week in Paris and went to a different bakery every day and chose something delicious and sat at a park and ate it listening to the universal language of children enjoying themselves, negotiating ownership rights, exploring and delighting.

We ate Italian pasta, Dutch pastries, and pita bread galore in Israel.

And when we got back to New Zealand, we went Paleo-bananas. And it was great. We were ready, and willing, and the transition was effortless. And the difference in frequency of outbursts was amazing. We were sold.

Two years later, we are due back in the Netherlands for my sister-in-law’s wedding. We are still paleo, well, we are a kind of modified paleo that works for us. It has become our normal and for the most part I don’t miss bread or pasta at all. I really enjoy the level of energy I have now, this less-irritable version of myself, and how healthy I feel in general. I’m really pleased that this way of eating was strewn in front of me, and that I was given the space to take it or leave it. And that we, as a family, took it.




Sunday, 7 June 2015

Monday Memories

***Untitled Piece***
March 2001

Do you remember the half-light in the room? The window open and a gentle touch of a breeze playing with us. The blinds were tapping against the frame with the ebb and flow. 
  I was lying on my side, trying to memorize your face. We were naked; parts of us covered by the sheet.
  I remember you rolled towards me and handed me one earbud, inviting me to share in your music. And we lay, listening privately to Counting Crowes and tried to understand the enormity of our love. 
  I lifted my heavy arm to touch your face, to trace the line from your earlobe to your chin, along your cheekbone and across your lips. Such lovely, gentle lips. Such love in your eyes as I looked, and a yearning which hadn't yet been sated, and maybe never would be.  

Thursday, 4 June 2015

Friday Fiction


***Too Much***

I am sitting on the floor of the shower. The water falls over my head, my face, down my back in a loving embrace. An all-encompassing, warming, cleansing embrace that meets me where I am and gives me the space to cry tears unseen and unjudged. Tears over nothing. Tears for futility, for uncertainty, for being lost.

  I don’t like being like this. My eyes hurt, my soul hurts, I’m tired, I’m weak. The step up from the shower floor, the uncurling of my arms, my legs, my body. The lifting up of one heavy hand to lean on and push off the cold tile. The heaving of my body to kneeling, to one knee, to propping to my head against the tile in a question of worth. A break. A breath. A moment. Two arms outstretched, upstretched, seeking purchase, finding slickness. One foot, one leg, one thigh muscle – questioning the wisdom of so much investment. Pushing. My hands find the shower head and clasp it, grasp it, hang from it, stealing its strength. My face in the spray, washing away the tears. Holding my breath. Holding my breath. Holding my… gasping. Turning my head, lips breaking open, air sucking in. Hanging. Stealing strength. Stealing resolve. Faking. I let go of the shower head. Gambling. I slide my hands over the tiles to find the taps. And turn them. Slowly off. I lean against the wall. My chest, my stomach, my thighs feeling the harsh cold. I push off. I open my eyes. I step out into the day.