Why So Many Song About Rainbow

[Ed. The title is a literal translation from American Sign Language]

Perhaps it’s because rainbows operate in our psychology as a symbol of plenitude, especially for children, most of whom spend a great deal of their time under strict surveillance in secure pens called “schools,” which is ominously defined in Meriam-Webster’s online dictionary as “an institution for the teaching of children.”  Rainbow-land is where we will finally be free to do as we please and be respected as complete human beings.  But more on rainbows later.

At HVSS students are already free to do as they please – most of the time.   They do have serious social work to do, too.  Everyone has to take their turn serving on the Judicial Committee, for example, which occasionally becomes difficult, because investigations are quite thoroughgoing, and it can even become tedious, because they can take considerable time and sometimes backtracking and reworking.  But it is real work with real flesh-and-blood importance, because the freedoms and rights of School Meeting Members are at stake, so it’s always important to proceed with patience and attention.  Then there is School Meeting, where discussions sometimes extend beyond anyone’s reasonable predictions, but coming to the best decision we can – and honoring everyone’s right to fully participate – is always worth the extra time.  Of course, HVSS is not at all dominated by intricate judicial investigation and laborious democratic process.  Most of the time people are doing other things, and especially for younger students, a lot of the time that’s playing.  But the play and the hard work of democratic process are not separate activities here; they support and inform each other.

A few weeks ago School Meeting was particularly fraught, filled with passionate debate and procedural frustration.  I am the secretary, so it is my honor to type and post the minutes immediately following each meeting, and I usually have a couple other administrative tasks to take care of quickly before the end of the day.  After the meeting in question, though, I felt rather burnt out, and instead of retiring directly to the office I stepped outside into the sunlight, where something was happening.  Within the space of several seconds I found myself ensconced in a snow turret in the midst of a furious battle, anxiously shooting foam arrows at an approaching  Viking force, comprised mostly of students who had been in School Meeting seconds before. They were huddled together and advancing slowly, shields held together wall-like in the Tortoise Formation made famous by Roman Legions.  Two or three allies stood to my right, brandishing swords and whispering things like, “they’re going to overrun us,” nervously.  And overrun us they did, and as I desperately tried to notch one last arrow I was felled by a sword blow to the thigh and then, writhing on the snow, I gritted my teeth and waited for the final blow.  And then, moments later, I was heading back inside to complete my tasks, only now – my cheeks rosy and my heart light – I whistled while I worked.

Everyone knows that all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy, but it’s worth thinking about how deep that dullness really goes; it’s far beyond a dour countenance.  Jack also won’t work nearly as well if he does not play.  And generally a group won’t work as well as a team if they don’t also play together.  And how are solid relationships formed? How do acquaintances often become friends, at any age? By laughing and playing together.

Here’s an example of how expertly play and serious consideration are woven together by students at HVSS:  for maybe two weeks now, the American Sign Language class has left a song chorus written on the blackboard in the JC Room.  It is “translated” so that it can be signed in ASL, and it reads,

Why so many song about rainbow
And other side what there
We see rainbow
But only illusion

For a few of us, this has become a little joke.  When we run into each other around school we might ask – quite seriously –  “why so many song about rainbow?”  or we might sneak up behind one another and whisper, “only illusion.” The verse is still there, untouched, above the JC table.  

One day last week, JC was dispatching with business with its ordinary care and efficiency, despite being interrupted by tours and playing host to multiple visiting observers.  At some point in our second hour one member had to use the office telephone.  There was still a lot of work to do, and the rest of us decided to discontinue our work and take an in-room break until we could function as a complete body again.  After 30 seconds of relative silence, one of the members, looking up at the blackboard, sang in an exaggerated falsetto, “Whyyy…sooo…many song…about raaiiinbowww…?”  We all giggled, and then he continued, “And-other-side-what-there?”  Another member or two joined in to sing the last two lines, and then – I’m not sure quite how – an a capella jam session broke loose.  There was beat-boxing, operatic bel canto, harmonizing, polyphony, and a sort of monastic chanting (“rainbow-rainbow-rainbow”), all at once, and – somehow – it sounded great.  There was a lot of laughter too, of course.  We continued, organizing ourselves variously, and I’m sure I wasn’t the only one who began to wish that our missing member never returned.  When she did, though, we reentered our work renewed.

Serving on JC can be exhausting, as it was on that day, but it’s vitally important, especially because it seems that it’s usually the process of JC itself – rather than, say, serving a sentence – that motivates transgressors to reflect.  Facing a panel of peers concerned with what’s happening at school and charged with investigating whether you’ve done something that might violate someone’s freedom, and being given careful due process by that panel, is very powerful.  Despite the difficulties, we’re able to do it well because at HVSS, while working on justice keeps us reflective and morally aware, play keeps us fresh, lively, and in tune with one another.

 

Why are you sponsoring that motion, Matthew?

Last Thursday as I put together the School Meeting Agenda I noticed that it was thin – it outlined what would surely be a quick and boring meeting.  I wanted something more interesting, so I thoughtlessly sponsored a motion to ban the use of smart phones, tablets, and similar devices at school, chuckling to myself.  I posted the agenda in the Lounge Extension, and went about my day.  Soon, students began addressing me, “Why the hell are you sponsoring that motion, Matthew?”  To some I answered with another self-satisfied chuckle, to some I said, “I don’t really support it, but I will argue for it,” and once I even said, “Because I think it’s something we should do.”  Later, sitting in JC, I heard an extended clamor out in the lounge (and, sure enough, the following day JC would process a complaint about a mob whipping up opposition to the motion in a “disturbingly noisy” fashion), and a five year old girl cautiously entered JC to inform me that the motion I had made “was making people cry.”  She also said that personally she was upset because she believed that I would never be elected as staff again.  I laughed, but this time without the self-congratulatory feeling, and then I started to sweat a little.

A half hour later I was still in JC.  Notes deriding the motion began appearing underneath the door.  One said that under no circumstances would I be allowed to “alienate our inalienable rights,” and that the “Sons of Sudbury would rise in opposition to The Motion.”  At one o’clock, we concluded JC and headed into the meeting room.  Nearly the entire student body was already there waiting.  I sat in my place at the front facing the room (where the JC clerk always sits next to the School Meeting Chair), and felt the heat of the crowd.  At this point I thought I had two possible courses of action: I could withdraw the motion, because I didn’t actually believe in its merit and my tomfoolery had already caused enough strife, or I could argue for the motion as compellingly as I possibly could, and continue the charade through to the end; I began jotting notes of things I might say in support of the motion.  I decided not to deny the assembled the satisfaction of blowing me out of the water.

When the motion came up, nearly everyone in the room raised their hands to speak.  Early on, I was asked, “why?” I delivered a little speech along the lines of: “I believe these devices are dangerous; they are a blight.   An important component of Sudbury education is the occasional occurrence of boredom.  The benefits of boredom are pretty well documented (blog readers, see this) by now, and we take advantage of them here.  Boredom leads to more meaningful and creative activity, it can help one to discover a genuine enthusiasm, and it provides the space for us to feel what’s happening inside of us.  If we always have recourse to the our devices – that is, to an endless variety of games, information, and people to talk to – we are robbed of ourselves, really.  We’ll never feel our emotions fully or properly if we can’t be alone or bored for more than a few seconds, or develop the focus needed to think at a high level.  We are all becoming pawns of Silicon Valley, offering ourselves up to entities which will mercilessly take advantage of us, etc.   Of the 44 people present at the meeting, most spoke, rephrasing and reframing arguments in support of freedom.  Many sympathized with some points of my argument and expressed awareness of possible dangers of the proliferation of wireless devices, but told me in no uncertain terms that the motion to ban was very unwise. Here’s a summary of what they said:  what you’re really trying to ban is fun, and that’s not good. This school is based on freedom – people should be able to choose; that’s what its about; It’s a totally unfair imposition to tell us we can’t do some particular thing.  Plus, don’t you know that forbidding something usually causes a backlash, as in the case of the sheltered college student who becomes an alcoholic? Besides, our use of devices is actually enriching our lives in myriad ways.  A few students who don’t use devices themselves also spoke vehemently against the motion.  Several said they believe some SM Members in the community use devices “too much,” but they don’t believe it’s the role of the School Meeting to attempt to regulate at that level.

My final comment to School Meeting was that I agreed that the motion was out of line because – besides the obvious infringement on freedom, it denies students the opportunity to learn to navigate this territory for themselves.  I didn’t say this at the meeting, but I also know there’s tons of good arguments and compelling evidence by now which show that video games in particular have tremendously positive effects on kids, and there’s fascinating research out of Stanford suggesting that social network platforms like twitter encourage the development of good writing skills, from grammar to quality of information to composition.   The New York Times has reported on the impressive benefits of Minecraft, in particular .  Banning devices would be like banning books, or conversation, or play.

After the vote, a few SM members remained in the meeting to discuss what had just happened.  One staff expressed some mild concern about the legitimacy of a staff member at our school making this kind of motion – sort of like the “cooking something up” for students that happens in traditional schools – an artificial “educational” experience.  I feel I did infringe on students’ freedom, tricking them into pausing their activity to come to a meeting to ensure a bad motion didn’t pass (that wouldn’t have passed anyway).   But I enjoyed it, and I think others did too. I still feel ambivalent about it.  What does everyone think?

Chase and Pursuit

How and Why Laws are Created – or Not – at HVSS

Recently, a staff member made a motion to put a defunct law called “Chase and Pursuit,” which forbids indoors chase games, back onto the books.  It passed to Second Reading, which means that it can be made into official school law at the following meeting.  But this law proved to be controversial, and the debate that followed revealed how in a democratic community even a seemingly simple proposition involves a complex web of implications.  In a small direct democracy, different perspectives inform and balance each other; it’s harder to get things done than in autocratic systems, but what’s done generally has more consideration behind it.

The Chase and Pursuit law was rescinded last year because there are other indoor laws which cover the parts of chase games that are disruptive: there is a noise ordinance, a law against moving fast, and another against being rowdy. The staff member who sponsored the motion to reinstate the law argued that there are activities happening on a regular basis which do not violate any of those laws but which should not be allowed.  I thought of times I’ve been working in the office and students sneak in and try to hide underneath my desk, or giant games of hide-and-seek spanning the building, and although they aren’t necessarily loud, fast, or rowdy, they are disruptive to people trying to focus on their own activities.  

Two older students attended the meeting to debate the law.  They argued that this law would complicate an already crowded law book; if there was a game of tag in the building, for example, would the players be charged with rowdy play, moving fast, being disruptively noisy, and chase and pursuit, making four charges for one event?  Wouldn’t that be a messy overcharge?  They asked where the line would be drawn between a chase game and simply “looking for someone,” or following someone who is leading you to a destination.  They suggested that the law would allow for people to be charged for harmless activities.  The rule’s sponsor responded that nobody would bother to write up harmless activities, but the students weren’t satisfied by that, arguing that such activity should not be technically illegal, even if it would be allowed.  

A second staff member spoke on behalf of reinstating the law, saying that it can be difficult to have a quiet focused group activity when chase games – even quiet ones – are going on.  Sometimes people playing hide-and-seek want to look in a room where a group is working, for example.

Another Staff Member chimed in, saying that she likes “a little chaos” in the building – it’s fun.  She argued that groups who are engaged in quiet focused activities are disturbed more often by random people barging into the room and for no other reason than to see what’s happening, and suggested that we turn our attention to addressing that issue.

When it came time to vote I abstained.  I wasn’t sure what my opinion was, and I left it to the people who were feeling passionate.  I was more interested by how any discussion of laws and procedures at Sudbury connects to the wider culture of the school and brings up essential questions: what kind of culture do we want to create at the school?  How much regulation is too much or too little? How can we prevent one individual’s freedom from disturbing another’s?  The motion to reinstate the Chase and Pursuit Law failed; the School Meeting decided to err on the side of legal simplicity, individual freedom, and fun.  The bill’s sponsor smiled concession, and we proceeded to the next order of business.

The Individual in Community at Sudbury

Last week we had a trial that raised some interesting questions about the age-old problem of individual rights vs. community – an intense philosophical, political, and metaphysical problem that still vexes human society and makes the news every day.

In a certain respect, Sudbury is an experiment in finding the balance between individual and community; individuals have freedom, but that freedom is limited by the freedom of others.  Sudbury thus hangs – like the rest of nature – in a delicate balance, and that balance is protected by our justice system.

Here’s what happened: the Judicial Committee needed a replacement member, and the next student on the list was asked to serve.  He was in the middle of something and initially refused.  This is a clear violation of the JC policies; service is not optional.  After a minute or so of haggling, though, he consented, and reported to the JC room in an angry huff.  He stormed in, did not answer a friendly greeting, plopped into a seat, and glared.  He did not vote on the first item that came up, and when he was asked if “this is the way it’s going to be,” he responded, “yeah, I’m pissed off.” JC then decided to replace him.  Later, he was charged with violating JC rules and procedures, essentially because he disrupted their process and ultimately refused to participate.  He plead Not Guilty.

At trial, I was the prosecutor.  The case looked simple: there were clear violations of JC policies, and I laid these out for the jury, adding that the defendant was not charged for his feelings, but for allowing his anger to disrupt the processes of JC.  But the defendant insisted that he was being persecuted for merely being angry, that he didn’t waste significant time, and that he would have cooled off if given the chance.  He rhetorically asked if a School Meeting Member would be charged if they were overcome with sadness – or another emotion – and thus unable to serve.  My response was that the defendant was angry about having to perform his community duty, which led him to shirk it, and that the disruption was significant enough for JC to write him up for it.  If, at the time he was asked to serve, he was very angry about something else, perhaps things would have been handled differently (although legally they shouldn’t be).  I wish I had added that we need to be able to regulate our emotions at least to the degree that we may avoid trampling on other individuals or the community.

The jury returned the surprising verdict of Not Guilty, swayed by the idea that the defendant should not be convicted because he was temporarily compelled by emotion and should have been allowed a chance to self-regulate.  I think they got this one wrong.  The defendant’s anger at having to perform a community duty caused him to neglect that duty; if the community tolerates that, then it is elevating the individual above the community in a potentially dangerous way, supporting an ideology in which community duties are onerous and/or unimportant.  In reality the needs of individuals and the needs of the community are not so distinct, and personal freedom is supported by the structures of the community.  Without JC, we would not have Sudbury.

I somewhat sympathize with the jury though, because we had indeed stumbled into the complex territory of determining under what circumstances we may legitimately excuse a SM Member from performing community duties.  I appreciate that in their hesitancy – in their doubt, which they considered reasonable – they chose Not Guilty, and I also appreciate that they were able to do that despite being told by an adult prosecutor that the opposite was correct.  After the verdict, I talked to a couple jurors, and they had interesting questions on their minds about the limits and exceptions to mandatory JC duty: what if I am having a profoundly miserable day, week, month – may I be excused?  What if I have a cognitive difference significant enough to make my participation a burden to the process of the JC – may I be excused? What if the Red Sox have just won the World Series and I have been thrust me into ecstatic rapture – may I be excused?  What if I have just reached a critical step in a chemistry experiment that cannot wait or my data will be spoiled – may I be excused? The policies state that JC is a mandatory community duty, but it’s not clear to me that all these cases would be handled the same way.  Perhaps the answer to all the above questions should be “No.”  What do you think?

It seems that the staff who know about the trial are in unanimous disagreement with the jury.  But I wouldn’t have it any other way; our students learn by making real decisions that actually affect people, not by responding to theoretical prompts that we cook up for them (and have nothing real at stake).  I wouldn’t want to attempt to assert some kind of adult authority and overrule the decision.  Doing so would not only subjugate our students, it would relieve them of responsibility – they would no longer have to think and act on difficult matters together, and they could passively rely on adults to make decisions for them (and then blame those same adults for making the decisions without full understanding of the situation!)

Closing thought: It seemed to me that – despite winning – the defendant himself changed his mind somewhat over the course of the trial, and I doubt very much that he will ever behave that way again.

Right to Remain Silent Law?

I am a new staff member here at Hudson Valley Sudbury School.  I moved from Massachusetts with my wife Ana and our baby Susannah to be a part of this place, and this post is meant to offer some insight into why we would do that.  

Last Friday evening my friend Douglas called me up to ask how it was going.  We’ve both taught in public schools, and one way we liked to describe the atmosphere in those schools was “tense boredom.”  In was tense because we were charged with ensuring that at all times our students were behaving according to enthusiastically precise guidelines; it was our job to contain and restrain the tremendous youthful energy before us, to make sure that it was pipelined into “productive work,” and that there were no leaks in the piping.  It was boring because a room full of otherwise creative and fun kids stripped of their rights to move, interact, create, and do much of anything is…boring, and sad too.  I took a minute to think before declaring to Douglas that at HVSS the atmosphere is the opposite: it is “relaxed engagement.”  I am relaxed, I explained, because at HVSS I am permitted to respect children and teenagers; I don’t have to exercise arbitrary authoritative power over them, and no one is exercising it over me, either.  I am engaged because when people are not under the yoke of arbitrary authoritative power they do a lot interesting things.  I am engaged because I am eager to learn – I have a new job, and I want to do it well.  I am engaged because in a small democratic community each person has the responsibility of making sure the school is operating in a just, respectful way.  The system here is alive and dynamic – all policies and laws can be changed by School Meeting, and that’s engaging.

Last week a student made a motion to put a new law into the books which stated that a School Meeting Member shall not be compelled to testify in the Judicial Council, a committee of students and staff who investigate complaints about law violations.  He was upset that he had been “forced to tattletale” on a friend because, at JC, as in our country’s Judicial System, a witness must testify; if you have evidence, you have to provide it (with some exceptions, of course).  He submitted his motion to be put on the School Meeting Agenda and started whipping up support.  He debated in the hallways.  He convinced and cajoled and wrangled: “so, have you heard about the “Right to Remain Silent Law?”  Then, at School Meeting he stood and spoke ardently and articulately, urging us to support his motion.  His case, essentially, was that witnesses should be allowed to decide for themselves the right course of action to take in testifying or not, that allowing them the choice was a manifestation of respect, that if this school is truly based on responsibility and trust then individual liberties – even liberties which may extend beyond what our wider society allows – should be steadfastly defended.  The counter-argument was made by students and staff, my self among the detractors: being forced to decide whether or not to testify puts witnesses in the difficult position of weighing the pros and cons of saying what they know vs. remaining silent to protect friends, which is unfair both to them and to any victims of rule violations.  There was a crowd on hand to witness and participate in the debate, and when it came to a vote it failed by a wide margin.  The student who sponsored the motion called the decision a “travesty” and a “violation of human rights” and left the meeting.  

I thought School Meeting made the right decision, but I’m not as sure now as I was when I voted.  Later that evening, washing dishes, I wondered if he was right after all – if, in a community built on trust and respect and which is bold enough to actually explore and live the implications of those values, it is indeed wrong to compel witnesses to testify.  For now, I still think we got it right, but I also think there’s more thinking to do.

In the traditional schools that my friend Douglas and I taught in, “respect” meant being obsequious and “responsibility” meant doing what you’re told.  At HVSS, “respect” and “responsibility” are living, dynamic aspects of human relationships, and our work at school is an ongoing investigation into them.  There are no authorities on the subject, just an open community of learners refining their thinking day by day.  We have the luxury of having sloughed off the burden of high-stakes testing and a model based on authority and instruction, and goodness let me tell you that’s relaxing.  We are free to work on more important things, to explore together what it means to respect and trust each other, and that kind of human-based work is – by definition – engaging.  It’s good to be here.

The Sudbury Model of Education

The Responsibility Spectrum

 

The fundamental difference between a Sudbury school and any other type of school is the student’s level of responsibility. In a Sudbury school the students are solely responsible for their education, their learning methods, their evaluation and their environment.

In a public school, the state takes responsibility for most aspects of a student’s education including curriculum and evaluation. The student is left with little responsibility except to learn what is taught, how it is taught, in the environment in which it is taught and then to reiterate it back at evaluation time.

In a non-Sudbury private school, the school administrators take a larger role in determining a student’s curriculum than in a public school. In some private schools, the school takes responsibility for evaluation, while in others the school administers the state tests. In most private schools, as with public schools, a student has personal responsibility only for learning what someone else determines is important to learn, at a time they think it is important to learn it, in a way someone else has determined it should be taught, in an environment designed by someone else, and they must do this well enough to pass the evaluations written and graded by someone else.

In a home schooling environment, parents take most of the responsibility for the student’s education. In New York and many other states, however, the state still takes some responsibility for determining the home scholar’s curriculum and for evaluating the home scholar. Home scholar’s are required to take the state mandated tests, and home schooling parents are required to fill out and submit progress reports to the local school district four times a year. Like public schools and most private schools, the responsibility is not with the student.

These educational options describe a range of responsibility. This range of responsibility starts with the student and extends to the parents, the school, the community, the state government and the federal government. We refer to this as the Responsibility Spectrum. Educational options with a compulsory curriculum (e.g. most public schools) tend to be on one end of the spectrum. Private schools span a large portion of the spectrum, with the school’s specific educational philosophy determining exactly where it falls on the spectrum. Home schooling also spans a large portion of the spectrum, with the parent’s specific educational philosophy determining the student’s level of responsibility. A Sudbury school is the only educational option where all of the responsibility is with the student.

 

The Sudbury Philosophy

 

Sudbury school students have total control over what they learn, how they learn, their educational environment and how they are evaluated. They choose their curriculum. They choose their method of instruction. They choose, through a democratic process, how their environment operates. They choose with whom to interact. They choose if, how and when to be evaluated _ often they choose to evaluate themselves. This is radically different from any other form of education and this is what differentiates a Sudbury school.

Why does a Sudbury school give this level of responsibility to the student? It is because Sudbury educators believe that children are capable of assuming this level of responsibility. It is not a type of pedagogical tool used to motivate the students. The responsibility is real; the students absolutely have the ultimate say in their education. Giving real responsibility to the students allows them to gain experience making decisions and handling the consequences of their choices. In this way, the students gain experience and maturity.

Much of the current effort in education is spent attempting to motivate students to learn. A Sudbury school doesn’t spend any time attempting to motivate students; we believe that they are inherently motivated. We believe this because all the evidence of childhood development supports it. Anyone who has observed a baby attempting to take his or her first steps or learn to talk can clearly see this. They struggle and fail and continue to struggle and fail until they finally _ on their own _ get it right and start walking and talking. If not suppressed, this inherent motivation to grow and develop does not die when the child reaches school age.

 

 If not suppressed, this inherent motivation to grow and develop does not die when the child reaches school age.

 

External motivation is only necessary when someone else determines what the student should learn. When the students determine their own curriculum, external motivation is not necessary. Studies have shown that when people determine for themselves what to learn, they retain the subject significantly better than if someone else determines what they should learn.1

The general consensus in our society seems to be that if left to their own devices children would never learn anything. They must be told what is important to learn and when to learn it. At a Sudbury school, the staff and parents believe that the students are the ones to decide what is important for themselves to learn. They are the ones responsible for choosing their interests and, eventually, their life goals. There are a number of examples of this in a Sudbury school. One of the clearest examples is the case of a young girl who, in the judgment of the Sudbury school staff, had a tremendous writing talent. For years after the girl started at the Sudbury school, the staff thought that they should encourage the girl to focus on her writing skills. Instead the girl spent the time socializing with her peers. After a few years of writing little or nothing, the girl returned to writing and her writing ability had taken a significant leap forward in depth and the understanding of human emotions. It became clear to the staff that her years socializing were not “wasted”. They had been spent, consciously or unconsciously, learning about people. When the staff reflected on this, they realized that the girl had spent her time exactly the way she needed to spend it. If they had forced, or even subtly encouraged, her to spend her time writing, she would have probably improved the mechanics of her writing skill, but would have lost the depth and the feeling that her writing developed by being able to socialize with and understand other people.

No one at a Sudbury school will tell the students what they have to learn. No one will exert any pressure on a student to learn a subject. No one will even suggest that it would be a good idea that students learn a subject. The entire responsibility is left to the students; we refer to this as Student Initiated Learning. When students are left to decide for themselves what to do and what to learn, they spend much of their time socializing. Unlike compulsory curriculum schools, a Sudbury school believes the time spent socializing is invaluable to a student’s education and growth.

One of the common questions asked of Sudbury educators is, “what happens if a child doesn’t want to learn to read?” Our answer is that this just doesn’t happen. It is akin to asking, “what happens if a child doesn’t want to learn to talk?” In our society reading is an important communication tool. People are inherently motivated to expand their ability to communicate, and this inherent motivation will result in children learning to read. However, in a Sudbury school, reading is seldom “taught” in the way we think of reading being taught. No teacher stands in front of 5 and 6 year olds and breaks words into their phonetic elements. Instead, reading is part of the culture _ just as talking is part of the culture. Students learn to read, and largely teach themselves to read, because they want to be able to more fully participate in the world. The original Sudbury school, the Sudbury Valley School, has been in existence for 36 years. During this time, they have had thousands of students. No child has failed to learn to read in the school’s entire history, and yet they have never had a formal reading class. This same experience is seen in learning other “basics”, such as writing and math. The students learn them because they recognize that they need to learn them in order to survive and prosper in the culture.

Sudbury schools do not have formal evaluations of their students. There are no grades and there are no tests. We believe that the best person to evaluate a student’s progress is the student. Students know when they understand a subject or a skill and when they do not. Experience has shown that when a student self-evaluates, they have a much higher standard than when someone is evaluating them. They tend to measure themselves against perfection – not against “good enough”. Occasionally a student will ask for outside evaluation from either a staff member or another student. When they do this, they demand an honest critique. They are not interested in being lied to. They are striving for perfection and want to know if they have reached it.

In a Sudbury school, there is no separation by age. All of the students are free to mix with other students of any age. In a school with a compulsory curriculum it is necessary to separate students by ability so that they can all be instructed at the same time _ the easiest way to do this is to assume that children of the same age have the same abilities and interests. This can lead to some students becoming bored if the pace of instruction is too slow, and some students becoming stressed and eventually disenfranchised if the pace of instruction is too fast. In a Sudbury school, the students can pursue their education at their own pace so there is no reason to separate students by age.

Sudbury schools believe that there is a great advantage gained by being able to allow students of different ages to freely mix. In fact, age mixing has been called a Sudbury school’s “secret weapon”. There are emotional, social and educational advantages to allowing different ages to mix. Emotionally, older students can play the role of big brother or sister to the younger students. Younger students gain security and comfort in this relationship. Age mixing provides a safe environment for students to work on their social skills. Students that are not confident of their social skills can practice them and work to improve them by interacting with other students; whether older, younger or the same age. Students of all ages can look to more mature students or the staff as role models.

In Sudbury Schools, it is very common for students to learn from other students. Sometimes the teaching student is older than the learning student, sometimes the teacher is younger than the learner, and sometimes they are the same age. The only constant is that both the teacher and the learner improve their knowledge of the subject. One of the best ways to improve knowledge of a subject is to teach it to someone else.

In order for the students to be able to be totally responsible for their education, they must have _ or at least share _ the responsibility for creating their learning environment. This means that Sudbury schools are run as a participatory democracy. All of the students and staff (together known as the School Meeting) are part of the democracy and all of the students have an equal voice in discussions and an equal vote in decisions. In other words, a 5 year old student has the same voice and power in the school as a staff member. The staff have no veto power of decisions made by the School Meeting. The only limit placed on the School Meeting is that they cannot make a law that would violate local or state laws and they cannot make a rule that would put the school community at risk.

 

 In other words, a 5 year old student has the same voice and power in the school as a staff member. The staff have no veto power of decisions made by the School Meeting.

 

Through participation in the school’s democratic process, the students gain experience working with others to make decisions. They gain experience advocating their positions on important issues that effect their day-to-day life. They come to understand that their opinions matter and that they can have an effect on the larger community.

 

Day-to-Day Operation of a Sudbury School

 

Sudbury schools operate very differently than any other type of school. In order to create an environment where the students are responsible for their education, the structure of the school had to change. The most striking difference is that there are no “classrooms” and there are no “teachers” _ at least not in the traditional sense of the words. Students are free to determine how the spend their time each day, they are not limited to a classroom where an adult tells them what they have to learn. They might work on an art project, play sports, cook, dance, read, talk to other students or staff, build a fort, watch birds, do a science experiment, climb a tree, write a story, play a computer game, or work with an off-campus mentor. When students decide they want to learn something new, whether it is an academic subject or not, they either ask a staff member for help, ask another student, or simply learn it on their own.

Each week there is a meeting, the School Meeting, where most of the day-to-day issues of operating the school are discussed and voted on. The School Meeting is run like a New England Town Hall Meeting. The School Meeting is run by the School Meeting Chair and the minutes are taken by the School Meeting Secretary. In most cases, the School Meeting Chair and Secretary are students who have been elected by the other students and staff. An agenda is published prior to the meeting and all students and staff members are welcome to attend the School Meeting. All students and staff have an equal voice in the discussions and an equal vote on the decisions.

The School Meeting has the final authority over all matters of a Sudbury school’s operation with the only exceptions being the yearly budget, the staff pay scale, graduation requirements and the Open Campus policy. These issues are the responsibility of the Assembly. The Assembly is composed of the students, their parents or guardians and the staff and is also operated as a participatory democracy. The Assembly typically meets once a year to approve the following year’s budget. The Assembly gives parents an important voice in vital issues pertaining to the school.

One of the most important aspects of running any institution is enforcement of the institution’s rules. In a Sudbury school, the School Meeting is responsible for making and enforcing these rules. This responsibility is often delegated to a smaller group of students and staff known as the Judicial Committee or JC. In most Sudbury schools, the Judicial Committee is composed of two JC Clerks, 3-5 students from different age groups and one staff member. The JC Clerks are typically students and are elected by the School Meeting and usually serve for two months. It is their job to ensure that the JC runs smoothly. The students from the different age groups serve on a rotating basis _ similar to jury duty. The staff member is typically rotated on a daily basis.

When a student or staff member believes that a school rule has been violated, he or she fills out a JC complaint form. The complaint describes what happened, where and when it happened and any witnesses. The JC meets on a daily basis and reviews all of the current JC complaints. For each complaint, the JC investigates the incident, writes a report of their investigation and determines if any school rules have been violated. If they determine that a rule has been violated, they press charges against the person (student or staff member) who they believe violated the rule. The person can then plead guilty or innocent. If a guilty plea is entered, the JC determines the appropriate sentence for the violation. If an innocent plea is entered, a trial takes place. Just as in the School Meeting, each member of the JC has an equal voice and vote.

One of the most important responsibilities of the School Meeting is to determine the staff. This is done each year by voting on whether current staff members should be re-hired for the next year. It is a very radical idea that students are allowed to help determine the staff of a school, but it is a necessity if they are to be given true responsibility for their education. There is no such thing a partial responsibility. The students are either responsible or they are not. They are either trusted or they are not. If the students were not allowed to participate in the selection of the staff members, one of the most important aspects of the school’s environment and operation would be taken from them. The message would be that they are not trusted with the responsibility of making really important decisions.

 

It is a very radical idea that students are allowed to help determine the staff of a school, but it is a necessity if they are to be given true responsibility for their education. There is no such thing a partial responsibility.

 

If the staff members are not responsible for directing a student’s education what are they responsible for? What is the role of staff? At a Sudbury school, the staff members are responsible for the continuing operation of the school. The staff members are expected to be role models of responsible adult behavior. They are expected to offer their insights and experience to School Meeting discussions. They are expected to be available to the students when they ask for assistance and guidance. Most of all they are expected to help ensure the continued operation and success of the school by providing continuity in the school community and culture.

One of the most striking aspects of a Sudbury school is the relationship between the staff and the students. Sudbury school staff members have high expectations of the students. They expect them to be able to take responsibility. They interact with the students as if they were adults _ perhaps young and inexperienced adults, but adults none-the-less. They listen to the students.

At times, students in a Sudbury school will decide that they want to learn a subject or they will decide that they want to pursue an educational or career path. When they decide this, the staff is there to support their choice and to help them achieve their goals. This can be done by actively teaching a subject, recommending a book or other reference material, identifying an outside resource or setting up an internship. An example from our school is a student who is very clear that she wants to become a veterinarian. She approached the staff and asked what she would need to do in order to get into a good college as a pre-veterinarian major. The staff helped identify the subjects she would have to know. The staff also helped her set up a short program with a local veterinarian. During this program the student visited the veterinarian’s office during school hours. When the program was finished, the veterinarian was very positive about the experience and indicated that the student would be welcome to come back for an internship once she reached the legal age of employment. The key to all of this is that the student knows what she wants. The staff is there to support and to encourage her along her path, but not to determine her path.

 

Results of a Sudbury Education

 

Because the Sudbury Model of Education is so different from any other form of education, many people wonder about the results of a Sudbury education. Specifically, they wonder if Sudbury graduates will be able to get into college or if they will be able to handle the “real” world. In short, Sudbury graduates have historically done very well when applying for college. The Sudbury Valley School has done an extensive study of their former students2. The results of their study show that a large majority (87%) of the graduates continue on to some form of further education; 4-year college, community college, performing arts school, culinary institute, etc.

Unlike Compulsory Education schools, graduates of a Sudbury school do not get into a college based on their transcript and their extracurricular activities. Sudbury school graduates get into colleges because they tend to be very focused on their career choice. This results in college applications that stand out from the crowd. Sudbury student’s have had the time during their high school years to investigate different options and to discover what they are passionate about.

One of the most striking facts discovered in Sudbury Valley School’s study of their former students is that 42% of the students who responded to the survey are either self employed or involved in entrepreneurial situations.2 This is understandable given the educational philosophy of a Sudbury school. The students have been able to develop their interests and to develop their ability to take responsibility. Once accustomed to having responsibility, it is difficult to abdicate responsibility to someone else.

 

Conclusion

 

One of the common misconceptions about a Sudbury school is that it must be easy _ after all, the students are free to do what they want to do without a teacher telling them what to do. This could not be further from the truth. A Sudbury school is hard for exactly the same reason people think it is easy. With no one telling the students what to do, the students are left with no choice but to decide what to do on their own. This is much more difficult than simply following instructions.

Once people understand the Sudbury philosophy, they often ask “why doesn’t everyone send their children to a Sudbury school?” My answer is simply that many parents do not believe or trust that their children are motivated to learn. I cannot count the number of times that a parent has told me, “it sounds great, but my child would just play all day and never learn anything _ she needs to be pushed”. Out of politeness, I do not question this belief. In my mind however, my response is, “if your child is not motivated, she would still be lying in her crib, crying for food when she was hungry”. The child was motivated enough to learn how to walk, how to eat solid food, how to talk and many, many other skills. It would truly be easier for children to just lie in the crib and cry for food, but they choose to take the harder path of learning to move from babyhood to childhood. Likewise, children will choose to take the difficult and empowering path of moving from childhood to adulthood.

 

(Footnotes)

1 Deci, E.L., & Ryan, R. M. (2002). The paradox of achievement: The harder you push, the worse it gets. In J. Aronson (Ed.)

2 Greenberg, D., & and Sadofsky, M. Legacy of Trust: Life After the Sudbury Valley School Experience (1992) (Sudbury Valley School Press; Framingham, MA) pp. 249.

Connor’s List

Why do you want to go to The Circle School, anyway, Connor? Connor attended the summer session and liked what he saw. He dictated this list of his own personal reasons, as part of his family’s discussions prior to his enrollment this fall.

  1. I’ll learn Japanese at TCS.
  2. I can do math at my own level and at my own speed.
  3. I can go outside and eat whenever I want.
  4. I can do origami. Some of my friends and I have started a store [at TCS] and we have made 60 cents. I also have plans to make people want to come and buy stuff.
  5. I can be with friends a lot at TCS. At public school I could only play with them 40 minutes a day.
  6. At public school I couldn’t share my ideas, except during a special class with Mrs. XXXXX. At TCS I can share ideas with everyone all the time.
  7. I can be upstairs whenever I want.
  8. I can use whatever computer programs I want, whenever I want. At public school I had to play the games the teachers told me and only in certain classes. In computer class I would always be finished before everybody else and so I would have to do the same things tons and tons of times and also in other classes.
  9. I like being on the JC [Judicial Committee at TCS] so when kids break rules, instead of standing at the wall for 20 minutes [as in public school] we think of other ways to help them understand the rules – like if they broke them for the first time they just get a warning, and if they have already done it before, a harder consequence [TCS jargon for “sentence”]. Like if someone hits someone then they can’t be around that person for an hour or something like that.
  10. At TCS you can go on field trips if you plan it. Michel was only five years old when he arranged a trip to the aquarium in Baltimore. I would like to plan trips to the new TCS building.
  11. I like it when Mommy dissects frogs with us.
  12. I like to play with Technics.
  13. I want to go to TCS. I don’t really want to go to public school and I get throw-up in the back of my mouth. I get up at 6:30am to get dressed and tell Mom it’s time to go to TCS.
  14. The public school says they are going to do things and they never do it. They said my friend was going to get to go to Special Interest, but he didn’t almost until the end of first grade.
  15. At public school I do the papers in about 20 seconds and then I have to wait a long time. I especially hate it when we do problems one at a time and have to wait up for everybody to finish. While I’m waiting I do algebra in my head. I know negative numbers and algebra like x + x = 12, then x = 6. I have to wait till eighth grade for that.
  16. I like The Circle School because I don’t have to be there for like seven hours. I can be there as long as I want, like maybe ten hours.
  17. At public school I was so bored once I fell asleep. And sometimes when I’m not paying attention and the teacher asks me a question, I know the answer anyway – whew!
  18. I like the way at TCS you get warnings. At public school you never get warnings, you always get five minutes on the wall, even if it’s your first time.
  19. [At public school] you couldn’t really talk at lunch and sometimes if you did you’d get five minutes on the wall. At TCS you can take a bite and then go play and come back.
  20. The rules at TCS are good because we get to make them. At public school they have all these rules and you can’t make any others because they are already made. At public school the teacher that teaches the class makes the rules before you even get there. At TCS the rules can change all through the year by teachers or kids. At public school the teachers make you follow the rules and punish you. At TCS everyone can write up someone else for breaking rules, and the JC [Judicial Committee] thinks of the consequence for the kid or whoever it is.
  21. At public school the only time you get to use your imagination is when you are not paying attention, and you are supposed to pay attention. At TCS you can imagine whenever you want, and I like that. I like to imagine.
  22. In public school I didn’t feel good about everyone else getting in trouble; I never got in trouble. The reason I said that I was no good was because that was the way I felt. I don’t know why I felt that way. I don’t like it when kids get consequences at TCS either. It sometimes makes me feel bad, sort of, but most of the time I think consequences are good.
  23. At TCS when I come up with an idea I can do something about it. The origami store was my idea and quite a few people decided to do it together. In public school I can’t really do that kind of thing- only the teachers can.
  24. I would like to practice typing more. I would like to learn more about Sweden and Japan. I’m already taking Japanese. I would like to study music, especially on the baritone ukulele, and art, by visiting art museums and getting some classes.

What Are They Learning?

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.