It’s that time of year, the time of year when school-aged kids of all ages anticipate the countdown to freedom and echoes of the refrain of that popular childhood song ring out:
No more pencils / no more books / no more teachers’ dirty looks / when the teacher rings the bell / drop your books and run like…
I don’t know if anyone actually still knows that little chant (except for anyone who still rocks to 80s rock, including Alice Cooper’s School’s Out), but the sentiment probably hasn’t changed much. After months of getting up early, packing lunches, catching buses or waiting in the carline, and long, l-o-n-g days of sitting in classrooms, kids are usually beyond excited for the end of the school year. Good-bye school days, hello summer.
I can remember those days from my own time in school, and, for me, the end of the school year held a mix of relief and, well, sadness. I was one of those kids who loved school, though, looking back now, I think what I loved wasn’t so much the actual attending of school or the classrooms or the building. What I loved was the learning, or, the learning of things that interested or fascinated me or at least sparked my curiosity. So, some of my days in the classrooms were spent biding my time until we got to the things I wanted to learn more about.
Not too long ago, I stumbled across a quote from Seth Godin, an author, speaker, and marketing guru that resonated deeply with me and has been one of the compass settings for me in the unschooling homeschool journey I’m taking with our teenagers. He said, “My proposed solution is simple: don’t waste a lot of time and money pushing kids into directions they don’t want to go. Instead, find out what weirdness they excel at and encourage them to do that. Then get out of the way.” What a fantastic approach to learning and fostering curiosity and encouraging kids to become life-long learners. I wish this had been part of the approach for learning when I was in school, and that’s why I am grateful for the opportunity to implement this with my own teenagers.
This morning I had such a delightful zig-zagging conversation with my 17 year old that has reignited my desire to create a Unit Study for her around music, something to cover everything from the history of sound recordings (think Thomas Edison’s initial forays into this subject), to the creative process of creating an album (think cover art, song writing, recording times, and more) to the physical recording process (think how in the world do those grooves translate into the sound of someone singing our favorite song?) to the science of music studios and album recordings (think diamond needles and pressing vinyl and building stereos & amplifiers) to the social connotations and influences of music (think Woodstock, the Beatles, grunge or punk rock and more). My girl’s excitement at this prospect was palpable as we talked about the possibilities and opportunities.
As I thought more about this, I rediscovered Seth Godin’s quote in my photo memories and I couldn’t help but consider the differences between learning and schooling. For so many of us, school can steal our natural curiosity and our wonder, our love of learning because our system is created to meet as many needs as possible, the general needs of the general school population and that translates into not being able to meet the individual needs of each student. We are all taught the same math, the same science, the same English books, the same history, the same ideas.
When the public charter school we were attending didn’t work out, I was sorely disappointed and even saddened. Their concept and approach seemed like a better idea, and it may be. But it was not as inclusive as my neurodivergent then-tweenagers needed it to be. But as I sit here today and consider what’s possible for my now-teenagers, as I ruminate on potential Unit Studies around the things that fascinate them and where they excel, like Godin suggests, I am excited about their future and the learning that awaits all of us. Because while school may be out for many, for us, learning is simply a part of how we live our lives.
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