What Are They Learning?

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What do kids learn at The Circle School? More than I can know or name, I’m sure. But what do we see them learning? Here’s what some of the staff have seen in recent months …

I have seen kids learn to value reading as a functional tool. They read the agenda for the School Meeting to determine whether or not to attend this week. They read about upcoming field trips and other events on the front door. When they serve on the JC they must read the complaints they are investigating. They read the muffin recipe, to divvy up the ingredients for various people to bring in. They read the school law book to determine what law was broken, so they can fill out a JC complaint.

I have seen kids learning to value writing as a functional tool. They discover that in order to be certified to use the telephone, they have to be able to write well enough to write down a message and have the certifier read it. They write letters to their favorite TV and movie stars. They must write down the bylaws of their corporations for approval by the School Meeting. They must compose clear and concise motions to be presented to either the School Meeting or the Assembly.

I have seen kids learn perseverance as they work on projects dear to their hearts, for hours at a time.

I have seen six-, seven-, and eight-year-olds learning basic math skills as they “play” a computer game, working together to solve 100 multiplication and division equations.

I have seen kids learn how to remind themselves that they must be someplace at a certain time. They independently and with no prompting by adults, gather their things at 3:15pm and sit on the front couches waiting for the bus.

I have seen kids learn how to devise systems to remind themselves to do their daily chores, and to check off their completed chore on the chore checklist. Their various systems have included signs at their cubbies reminding them or asking an adult to let them know when it is a certain time.

I have seen kids learn how to keep a clean and neat cubby, after being written up and having to appear before the JC one too many times for having a cubby that continually spilled its guts onto the floor.

I have seen kids learn problem solving skills, working with each other and adults to hammer out certification procedures for safe, proper use of the computers, the sewing equipment, the piano, and the upstairs.

I have seen kids learn how to enjoy being with an adult (formerly viewed as someone to avoid if possible). They discuss what they did on the weekend, the latest Star Trek show, last night’s political debate, a book they were currently reading, or how to compose a rule that would address all the issues involved in messes made at school by groups of kids working together around a table.

I have seen kids learn to transfer skills from one area to another. They write signs for the front door using printing skills they had been practicing from a calligraphy book. They use paper folding tricks, also learned from a book, to create their handmade Valentines or to design an individualized birthday page.

I have seen kids learn how to deal with difficult interpersonal situations, by refining problem solving skills and becoming more flexible. For example, what rules are necessary for this game to be pleasant enough for all who want to to play? Should there be different rules for different ages? For different skill levels? What is fair? What is not fair? What is safe? What is not safe and might invite intervention by an adult?

I have seen kids learn how to monitor their environment and say to each other, “It’s too noisy down here for us. Let’s go upstairs where it is quiet. ”

I have seen children learn to draw on community resources. A five-year old went with an adult to the library to find a recipe for pancakes and then to the grocery store to purchase ingredients to make them.

I have seen kids learn to control their natural inclination to move constantly, watching them attend a meeting of a corporation or a committee that really interests them -such as the ad hoc committee appointed by the School Meeting to recommend what to do about the television set at The Circle School.

I have seen kids learn to make mistakes, admit them, and make amends.

I have seen kids learn the value of advertising. They planned to make and sell food one day, but due to a lack of notification, very few customers had cash on hand and the food items didn’t sell as briskly as they had hoped.

I have seen kids learn how to do things they don’t want to do. They sit and wait and wait and wait through a boring School Meeting for the motion they want to vote on. They bite the bullet and clean up someone else’s mess because they want to use an area that has been closed because it was too messy.

I have seen kids learn how to write IOU’s so they can purchase a food item. I have also seen kids learn to remember to pay off their IOU’S, after being refused a subsequent loan.

I have seen kids learn that there are ways to learn, other than being taught by an adult. I watch them teach each other to throw a football, to multiply and divide, to knit, to write.

I have seen kids learn how to effectively run meetings. I watch them chair the School Meeting, attending to old business, new business, motions, discussions, points of order, votes, reports, and announcements. I watch them chair committee meetings, less formal perhaps, but still requiring orderly proceedings guided by an effective chairperson.

I have seen kids learn how to express themselves through painting, music, sewing, knitting, quilting, and dramatic play.

I have seen kids learn how to tune out distractions, intently reading a book on the couch while all around them others are talking.

I have seen kids learn to value themselves, as they see the adults around them honoring to the greatest extent possible their choices about how they spend their time and how, when, where, and what they choose to learn.

I have seen kids learn how to listen to themselves to discover what turns them on, what they are particularly drawn to and not drawn to, what they want to do next.

I have seen boys learning to knit -casting on, knitting, purling. And I have seen girls learning football -passing, catching, making downs.

I have seen kids of all ages learn to play physical games together -finding ways to avoid hurting younger kids while still challenging the older ones.

I have seen kids learn design skills. They create a design, then make a pattern from it, and then sew it into reality.

Kiran

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[Ed. Kiran graduated from HVSS in 2015.]

From the time he was an infant, my son Kiran (now age 6) has had issues around feeling safe. Cautious, perceptive, and highly sensitive to other people’s energies and emotional states by nature, he is generally slow to adapt to new people and situations. He has always shown an aversion to group activities, preferring the intimacy of one-on-one interactions with trusted individuals in familiar environments. Add to the mix his intense dislike of anything he perceives as compromising his sense of control over his own situation, and the result is a challenging child, to say the least. Monitoring his reactions to any given circumstance and making adjustments accordingly has long since become second nature to me. On more occasions that I care to remember, we have had to make a quick exit from social settings to avert a full-blown tantrum.

Since he started school at Sudbury, I’ve noticed a marked change in Kiran. Although he faced the first week of school with his usual resistance and apprehension, by the end of week two he was actually looking forward to school on most days. His behavior at the key transition times – drop-off and pick-up – has been a true barometer of the shift he’s undergone in the scant two months of school. Last week he announced that I don’t need to go inside with him anymore when I drop him off, and at pick-up the biggest challenge now is extracting him from whatever activity he’s engaged in when I arrive. Whereas at most social events – even ones including other children – Kiran would usually not let me out of his sight, often spending the entire time clutching my hand, at the recent Sudbury bonfire gathering I scarcely caught sight of him for most of the evening, and practically had to launch a search party to find him when it was time to go home. In fact, that particular event was the first time he had ever requested that we attend a social gathering on his own initiative!

So just what is it about life at Sudbury that has sparked these changes in Kiran? From my perspective, the Sudbury model perfectly addresses two of his biggest issues: feeling safe and feeling in control. At first blush it struck me as counter-intuitive that offering children the degree of freedom and autonomy they have at Sudbury could make them feel safe. But Kiran’s rapid adjustment to the school has completely convinced me otherwise. Being given such a high degree of independence with an equal measure of responsibility has done wonders for his self-confidence. The other factor that has been so positive for him is age-mixing. Kiran has always gravitated toward older children, often feeling more comfortable with them than with kids his own age. It has been truly heart-warming to see how helpful the older kids at Sudbury are with the younger ones, and how naturally kids of different ages interact with one another, as well as with the adults. Sudbury sometimes feels more like a tribal community than a school, and at this point in Kiran’s development, I can’t imagine a better place for him.

Dancing ‘Round Castles

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I’ll begin with a little background about my children coming to The Circle School. Last year I came to the school as a new staff person. Zeb and Jyles, my stepchildren, were soon to follow, enrolling last year. My own three children have gone through an arduous campaign with their birth father to do the same. There was jubilation in our household late in the summer when he finally agreed to allow them to come.

By all measurable standards, the children are all bright successful students. They were in the gifted program, received excellent grades, had friends, and participated in various extra-curricular activities. However, despite these classical standards of success and enrichment, the children were neither happy nor satisfied with school. Instead, they constantly felt bored, unchallenged, and frustrated. There were many behavioral manifestations of these feelings. The most obvious one was a constant resistance to going to school each day – usually under the guise of being sick. Less direct, but equally disturbing, were the furrows in their brows while discussing their boredom in class. They felt isolated because they were smart, or different, or did not choose to get in trouble or shave their legs.

School has only been in session three weeks and already I have observed heartening behaviors in my children. During Tiffany’s time in public school her teachers always observed how bright she was, but commented on how timid and quiet she was. Here, she is a far cry from timid – she is full of laughter and enthusiasm. She volunteers her ideas and helps make things happen. She is comfortable stating and defending her position on issues. She is not ostracized for her decision not to shave her legs or not to have her physical appearance be her primary concern. She is accepted for who she is and is able to rejoice in that. Last weekend, while walking through a crowd of people with her, I saw her retreat into her shell (arms behind her back, head down, hair in front of her face … ) and I recalled how this used to be her public standard. Now I see a girl who tosses back her long red hair and greets the world with a smile and a hug.

Teachers have always commented on Jamie’s intelligence, creativity, and leadership skills. However, no one really knew what to do for her besides to use her as a glorified teacher’s aid. She is so adept at over-performing to predetermined standards that we have had to contend continuously with the stress of her perfectionist tendencies.

At the first school meeting she volunteered for various clerkships and was elected chairperson of the school meeting, a position which bears many responsibilities. She then presided over the rest of the five and-a-half-hour meeting, which took two days to complete. When I arrived at the end of the second day to pick her up, she danced up to me clad only in her ballet leotard. She told me that when the meeting had adjourned she had built a castle on the bear blocks and spent a few hours dancing around it. I recalled my preschool girl, now tripled in size, who was equally in tune with her modes of release and comfortable with her self-expression. As she danced up to me, I saw that she is in a place where she is able to take care of her business and take care of herself. This is an essential balance to learn in life.

Then there is Connor. He has come to school each morning full of joy, trying to maximize his time spent here. He wanted to make a motion at the School Meeting to extend the school day, feeling that nine hours just was not enough.

Last weekend I started feeling that although I thrilled to see all the happiness, I would still like to see him doing a little more reading. I put together a reading incentive program in which he happily participated. While he was engrossed in his fifth book, Saint George’s Dragon, I told him I would help him with any difficult words. He remained silently engrossed for a long time. I was feeling somewhat surprised because I knew the difficult level of vocabulary in this book. Finally I pointed out a word, asking him what it was. He glanced up and replied, “thoroughly”, with a quizzical expression, as if to say “Didn’t you know that, Mommy?”. Again I was struck with the inner wisdom of the child. Reading just is not an issue for Connor. He likes it. He is awfully good at it. He will do it when it suits him, just as he will continue to spend his time taking care of the things that motivate him.

During my children’s public school years it was almost as if I had a part-time job trying to help fix the problems with their educational program. I was luckier than most parents, to be able to assert my voice because of my children’s gifted classification. Yet I really remained impotent – always feeling as if I was fighting invisible dragons. Such an implicitly flawed monolith cannot be fixed by one energetic mom. As time passed, I watched their hope that school would be a place that would feed their hunger for knowledge and experience fade to an unhappy frustration.

In these few weeks of school at The Circle School I have watched my bright children regain a bright attitude toward school as a welcome part of their lives. Sunday morning was a perfect example of this. As soon as Connor awoke, he came and cuddled us in bed and sighed a happy little sigh about it finally being a school morning. When I told him that it actually was Sunday he moaned, “Oh, a whole long day to go before I can go back to school.”

In Praise of Yu Gi Oh

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Oh, how I like Yu-Gi-Oh. I am not a seven-year-old boy, but a 36-year-old mother. Since September my five-year-old son has begun his formal education at the Hudson Valley Sudbury School. One of the biggest learning tools he has embraced is that of Yu-Gi-Oh and I cannot sing its praises enough.

For those of you who do not know what Yu-Gi-Oh is let me give a brief overview. Yu-Gi-Oh is a playing/trading card system in which people duel each other based on the cards in their decks. It is similar to Magic Cards, but it is based on Japanese Anime. The cards have different values, actions and purposes. Alas, I will not try to explain how the game is played with my limited understanding. Instead, I suggest you get some hands-on dueling lessons from someone under twelve.

There are tons of Yu-Gi-Oh spin-off consumer items including everything from a television program to toothbrushes. The television show is a series in which duelers duel each other. And while most parents try to limit television time, the Yu-Gi-Oh show does teach those watching the powers of each card. New card packs come out every few months, of course, necessitating a significant monetary outlay. However, we have found that desire for new “booster decks” can create inspiration to earn and save money.

I will begin with explaining the noneducational benefits of Yu-Gi-Oh. One of the things I love about Yu-Gi-Oh is that it doesn’t require batteries. Unlike Game Boys or remote control cars, Yu-Gi-Oh can be played while camping and without recharging. I also appreciate the portability or Yu-Gi-Oh. You can bring it anywhere, especially if you have a way to contain your current deck so that it doesn’t slip out of your hand and into a mud puddle. Even if a Yu-Gi-Oh player does not wish to duel him or herself (an act apparently possible for hours at a time), a player can plan and plot various future strategies.

Now, for the educational benefits of Yu-Gi-Oh: namely reading and math. Yu-Gi-Oh dueling is based on a mathematical system of attack and defense points which ultimately impact a player’s life points. This system requires adding and subtracting numbers in the thousands on a regular basis. Playing Yu-Gi-Oh has inspired my five-year-old son Eli to learn how to add and subtract numbers in the thousands with carrying. Now, granted, the more complicated adding and subtracting he does on paper, but dueling requires quick access to calculations and thus encourages making calculations in a player’s head. This encourages duelers to develop short cuts (such as memorizing 5 plus 5 always equals 10).

Yu-Gi-Oh also encourages reading. The names of the cards have very complicated words such as Winged Dragon of Ra and Obelisk the Tormentor and each card has a picture, assisting recognition of certain words. Thus, some words become recognizable (dragon) and can be used to read the name of a new, unknown card (Slifer the Sky Dragon). In addition to the name of the card, each card has a section on the bottom that describes the powers of the card. While a dueler may not be able to read this section, he or she is inspired to do so in order to perfect the game.

An easily overlooked educational benefit of Yu-Gi-Oh is that of memorizing a complex system of rules. Let me explain. Several hundred years ago a “complete” education in the Western World would require memorization of ranks of angels. This was a very complex set of rules, names and powers to memorize. While memorization of Yu-Gi-Oh card powers, or those of Angels, may not be directly useful for running a business or learning a skill, memorization and attention to this kind of detail is what is required in test preparation (think SATs and learner’s permits) and other activities (think inventory management and anatomy).

Finally, Yu-Gi-Oh dueling has a certain etiquette. Bowing before a duel, or shaking hands after a duel may not teach the etiquette of our modern world, it does teach that different “niceties” are required in different systems; thus preparing duelers for future business luncheons. And, duelers who cannot maintain their decorum during a rough and tumble match will not be sought out for future duels.

No, Yu Gi Oh isn’t perfect. There aren’t enough female characters, the dueling is based on characters fighting, and it encourages consumerism. But the benefits far outweigh the costs. There you have it. What may seem to some adults like a waste of time, money and energy better spent on other educational pursuits, Yu-Gi-Oh can help kids to learn. So, go ahead, put that starter or booster deck under the pillow the next time the tooth fairy visits.

Learning to Trust Oneself

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The following article appears in the book The Sudbury Valley School Experience, Edited by Mimsy Sadofsky and Daniel Greenberg.  The article is written by Alan White.  The Sudbury Valley School Experience can be purchased online from the Sudbury Valley School Press at: http://bookstore.sudburyvalley.org/product/sudbury-valley-school-experience

Life is a journey and upon reflection I realize that, in my journey, I have been trying to recapture what was mine as a young child.

The accomplishments of young children up to the age of five are remarkable and have been acknowledged by many before me. They learn to sit up, to crawl, to stand up, to walk, to gain command of spoken language (even several languages), among other things and since almost all babies accomplish these enormously difficult tasks, we are not as awed by their accomplishments as we should be. Rather than recognizing how successful they have been at teaching themselves tasks that would be very difficult for any adult, we have gotten the idea that when they are four or five we can now take over their education and really teach them all the “important” things that they will need to know to be a successful and productive adult. We want to share what we know, offering them short cuts to our hard earned knowledge, and save them from making mistakes. Even if I were to concede that our intentions were good, which is not at all a foregone conclusion, I would argue that we have never been able to come close to doing as well for our children as they have been able to do for themselves.

In 1967 a group came together to begin an experiment in education, the Sudbury Valley School, that recognized the remarkable achievements of early childhood and created a setting that would allow children to continue learning about the world without interfering. Having had the opportunity to watch the progress made by children in this unusual school, I have once again come to appreciate a lesson that I have had to learn over and over again.

Since life is extremely complex, even the most gifted of observers can notice only a facet of reality. Even then, some of the observations stand the test of time, some are modified, and some are replaced by observations made by gifted observers who follow them. This is true for all aspects of knowledge. It is in recognition of this awareness that I have come to reject all religions and schools of thought that codify original observations and will not allow them to change.

Perhaps the most important disservice adults make in attempting to help children learn is to try to substitute the adult’s knowledge for the child’s own feedback system which was so successful in the earliest years. It takes away self-reliance and replaces it with “expert” opinion. The child often becomes passive, confused and even angry. From earliest infancy, children develop their own criteria about what works and what does not. They constantly test new input against the feedback provided by their nervous system in order to correct and transform their criteria until they feel they have things right, at least for a time, at their particular stage of development. For example, their use of language in a family setting may need to be transformed when they try to communicate to others as their circle of contacts expands into the larger community, and the feedback they receive as the circle expands helps them transform the language.

Take something as basic as eating. Even the youngest of babies know when they are hungry and will drink their mother’s milk until they have satisfied their hunger. In experiments conducted over forty years ago to find out what kind of diet young toddlers would choose for themselves, a smorgasbord of dishes were provided. This research concluded that, although children would often eat bizarre meals at any one occasion, over a month’s time their food intake was well balanced. An adult population that is grossly overweight, that has to resort to bypass surgery to try to compensate for clogged arteries later in life; a population where heart attacks are one of the leading causes of early death, and where mobility is seriously curtailed by deteriorating muscles, is hardly in a position to substitute their knowledge of what is good for anyone to eat or how to care for oneself. Even for that minority of parents who are health conscious, it is a mistake to rob children of the ability to develop their own criteria for good eating and caring for themselves. Normal, healthy children are not self-destructive. They do not walk over cliffs or expose themselves to known danger. Now it is true that they may, in their inexperience, expose themselves to an unknown danger and we can not let them experiment by eating poison or walking out in front of an oncoming car, but it is the rule and not the exception that should be followed. We should allow children to develop their own criteria for what is right for them whenever possible.

Like many of my contemporaries I have been struggling with an overeating problem over the years, and I have become increasingly aware of the roots of my dilemma. I am tempted to eat when I am anxious or when I am restless. I feel compelled to finish whatever is served. I also feel “starved” when my customary time of eating approaches. I have had a sense for some time now that all of these feelings about food are only partly related to any real need for nourishment. I also know that people can fast for days, or even weeks, without losing energy or feeling starved. It is only recently that I have begun to focus in on the problem. I began by fasting for three days, paying particular attention to my feelings of hunger and how my body was responding. Once I had made up my mind that I was going to start a fast I did not feel particularly hungry at meal times, so I think that, like Pavlov’s dogs, I have been conditioned to eat at certain hours of the day. Parents tell us that eating at scheduled times is for our own good, but it turns out it is for their convenience. The one who has to prepare food should be considered, but it should be stated that way and not passed off as something that is good for the child. When people we trust and depend on deceive us, it teaches us to discredit the messages we are receiving from our nervous system. Now that I am paying careful attention to when I am hungry, I am finding out that I am much more relaxed, eat more slowly, I am eating much less, and I am not eating just because I am anxious or nervous.

Up until the age of fourteen, I, along with many of my cousins, spent every summer with my grandparents who lived on a farm. There were horses, cows, pigs, chickens, cats and dogs, among other farm animals. The birth of new animals was always an exciting event in our young lives. These young animals became our favorites and we would clean and pet them. It was a very traumatic event when these pets were butchered and presented to us as part of our meals. My grandfather’s response was that it was necessary to our own survival. Had I been given the choice I would never have killed my pets, but I trusted my grandfather’s wisdom and learned to enjoy the taste of meat. Later in life I became aware that there were people who did not eat meat and who seemed to survive just fine, in good health. Moreover, there were many warnings coming from the medical profession about adverse side effects that came from eating meat. I am now a vegetarian by choice and have been for the past twenty years. I find that I am perfectly healthy, I have plenty of energy, I have lost the taste for meat, and I do not need to live with the idea that I am taking the lives of animals for my own use. Had I had the confidence in my own feelings I would have avoided part of a serious trauma when I was young and I may not have had to struggle with eating problems throughout my life.

Once you begin to question the experts you realize that there are no areas that you are willing to leave unchallenged. We all know from personal experience or from stories we have been told about the mistakes that doctors make. I have come to look at them as sources of information but to rely on my own intuition and insights as well. A number of years ago I had a severe rash on my leg that was very itchy. The more I scratched the more inflamed it became and the more it spread. I went to a dermatologist for help. He prescribed an ointment which he said would alleviate the problem but would not cure it. He told me I would have to be on medication for the rest of my life. That thought was a very difficult one for me and I was unwilling to accept it without looking for an alternative. Since I was aware that scratching only exacerbated the problem, I made up my mind that I would not scratch no matter how much my skin itched. After about a week of not scratching, the irritation and inflammation subsided and eventually disappeared. After several months went by, I scratched at my leg when I was nervous to see if the reaction would re-occur and it did, so that I was aware of the connection between my anxiety and the inflammation to skin of my leg. But I have never used the medication that the doctor prescribed and that was over ten years ago. This lesson taught me that a doctor is only a consultant and not an all knowing sage.

It has been a great effort to try to undo the education that was provided for my own good. Some of it has stood the test of time, yet there are many instances where the observations that were presented to me as truth have not stood the test of time. When it comes to my own body, I am trying to rely on the feedback that I am getting from my heart, lungs, and other organs. When it comes to information about the world, I am much more skeptical about expert opinion and always ask if these ideas really make sense based upon my own experience.

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