An Educated Person

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Education is a misunderstood term. It is often confused with related concepts such as knowledge and school. Education sometimes happens at school (and sometimes doesn’t), and knowledge can be a sign of an education, but neither are education itself. Simply put, education is the willingness and ability to learn for the sake of learning. The truly educated person learns constantly without supervision or external reward. To truly define what education is, we must first look at what it is not.

People generally think of school when education is brought up. School can be more than learning skills, memorizing facts, and putting them down on paper hoping to be rewarded with a good grade. The intended purpose of school is to teach students to think critically, which is something it often accomplishes. However, school is not education itself; it is a medium for students to reach their goal of being educated. School traditionally attempts to do this by setting up a course of external rewards for students to attain, each supposedly bringing the student closer to being truly educated. College is seen as the final goal for high school students.

College represents the ultimate form of education, and graduating from college is when people are certified as educated. It is not that simple. After college, an infinite amount of learning can be accomplished. School is like a trail to follow in a deep forest, giving students a taste of knowledge. However, to truly learn, people have to do it themselves. Educated people should develop a habit of constant learning without structure and reward.

An educated person in some people’s eyes is someone who knows a lot, someone who has retained a large amount of information, someone who can state facts without having to look them up. Broad knowledge can be valuable, but this is not an educated person. This is a knowledgeable person. To be educated is not about how much someone knows. It is about how someone can use what that person knows to enhance their learning experience. Knowing all the facts in the world won’t make a person educated unless that person can use those ideas for the sake of gaining more knowledge. On the other hand if someone is full of ideas but lacks the knowledge to put them to use, their creativity is void. It takes both creativity and knowledge to make a truly educated person.

Being an educated person is to view the world as your playground. It is to think with an open mind and to never be limited to what one has been taught as truth. It is to blur the line between work and play and to learn not just because one is told to. An educated person is someone who learns for fun and recognizes that there is no end to learning, no final certification. This skill could have been gained through any number of means, but when someone has it, it is apparent. Any person can become educated; it simply takes the will to learn for the sake of learning and living.

Back to Joy

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On Wednesday the third, the first day of the school year, the kids came streaming off the buses and nearly broke down the doors, even though they were unlocked.  I myself had just set my personal record for my bicycle commute (still though, the rest of the staff were already there when I arrived).  Kids were hoping out of cars all morning and racing towards the building like it was made out of gingerbread, or as if it were some kind of supercharged happy-magnet.  Everyone was eager to trade the decadence of summer for the nourishing thrill of getting the band back together, reuniting the clans, and returning to work on the ten thousand projects of making a life.  And of course everyone was off to work immediately – no need to ever wait around here.  

This school exists to secure students’ right to self-determination in their education (not to “grant” or “allow” those rights).  In doing so, the school renounces subjugation and takes a clear stand for trusting people – including children – to live their own lives with equal rights and access.  What happens next is remarkable, and elegantly logical.  “What I see happening here,” said one parent walking through the building last week, “is real human interaction.”  I see it too: all day long all over campus there are groups of students and staff sorting things out, solving problems, building and dissecting worlds, and laughing and laughing and laughing a lot, which brings me directly to what is probably the most important thing to know about our school: it is fundamentally a joyful place.  Not that anyone walks around the place with rictus grins plastered firmly in place.  We argue and bicker, relationships form and dissolve, people fall down; everyday someone’s crying.  But the dominant mode of being here – the baseline that most people return to – is joy, or one of its many corollaries. 

Near the end of last year, a woman called the school just to say she thinks that “what [we’re] doing is harmful to children.”  She said that children, left to their own devices, don’t challenge themselves and wind up as lazy, useless parasites.  I told her I disagreed and invited her to send me an email if she wanted to talk about it any further (she didn’t).  I mention this because it’s a common criticism, and and I’d like to address it in this “back to school” post, because the truth about it has been all too evident during the first days of school, as new Sudbury students and old have dropped right in to the struggle to figure out the best way to live.  Challenge is ultimately unavoidable.  Growing up is necessarily a challenge, and as the dictum of the organic universe “grow or ossify” tells us, growing up never stops (hopefully); there is never any finished product or perfect person.  By securing the right of freedom for our students, we strip away all the extra (and often irrelevant) challenges students at traditional schools face, which allows our students to invest their energy in engaging the vast project of growing up human, and of negotiating freedom within the context of a community.  It also allows them to ignore challenges that have no meaning for them and pursue the ones they are drawn to for whatever reason.   So, caller, I can’t apologize for our students’ freedom, but I can assure you that it does not free them from facing challenge.  What it does is prepare the ground for real human interaction, and it is that joyful ground from which ascents are launched and challenges are undertaken.

Last week I was in the art room with a few younger students and one of them offered this: “I like art.  I like it because there aren’t any rules, it’s all up to you, it’s not like minecraft (even though I like that too) where you have to follow different kinds of rules that keep you from making what you really want to make.  In art, there are endless possibilities…” Indeed.  Welcome back to school, everyone.  Welcome back to endless possibilities and endless challenges; welcome back to this joyful place.

It’s Up to You

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I’m really honored to be invited by our five graduates to speak here at their ceremony.

I’ll begin with a quote from a science writer, Elizabeth Kolbert:

“Zalasiewicz is convinced that even a moderately competent stratigrapher will, at the distance of a hundred million years or so, be able to tell that something extraordinary happened at the moment in time that counts for us as today. This is the case even though a hundred million years from now, all that we consider to be the great works of man—the sculptures and the libraries, the monuments and the museums, the cities and the factories—will be compressed into a layer of sediment not much thicker than a cigarette paper.” (The Sixth Extinction, Elizabeth Kolbert)

Well. That puts things into perspective, doesn’t it?

The point, though, is not merely that everything people ever build will be crushed into dust, but, despite that, it will be obvious from looking at that dust that something extraordinary happened during the time it wasn’t dust.  The “something extraordinary” that the stratigrapher Zalasiewicz is referring to as happening today is not your graduation.  Sorry, I mean, congratulations and everything, but it’s something else – anyone want to guess?

According to the International Union of Geological Sciences (IUGS), the professional organization in charge of defining earth’s time scale, we are officially in the Holocene epoch, which began 11,700 years ago following the last major ice age.

But many scientists of various disciplines say that label is outdated.  They argue for “Anthropocene” — from anthropo, for “man,” — because human civilization is causing mass extinctions of plant and animal species, polluting the oceans and altering the atmosphere, among other indelible impacts.  In other words, the impact of civilization on the planet has been so profound that it warrants the declaration of a new geological epoch.

Zalasiewicz is referring specifically to a great extinction – affecting flora and fauna from all corners of the earth including in the lakes, rivers, and oceans.  Headed for extinction in the near future are 40% of all amphibians, a third of all fresh-water mollusks, a third of sharks and rays, a quarter of all mammals, a fifth of all reptiles, a sixth of all birds, untold thousands of species of plant.”  There is a complex network of causality at work, and we are at its center.  What we do affects the world; we’re doing this.  Some examples: Frogs, one of the most ubiquitous creatures of the rainforests, are disappearing, victimized by a fungus spread by human beings.  Coral reefs, aside from being transcendently beautiful and the largest living structures on the planet, support thousands of species of flora and fauna; within 50 years every single reef on the planet will be dead or dying due to ocean acidification caused by the profligate burning of fossil fuels.  

Right here where we sit – the Hudson Valley – is the epicenter of a thoroughgoing dying off of bats.  Bats, whose position in the food chain is so crucial to so many ecosystems.  They’re also dying from a fungus brought to us by human travelers.  

There have been five other major extinction events in the last 430 million years.  The most famous of course is the last one, when an asteroid hit near the Yucatan Peninsula 65 million years ago, wiping out the dinosaurs and a lot else besides.  This time, though, as one scientist puts it, we are the asteroid.  And we’re imperiling ourselves, too.  But why am I talking about this right now?  

A couple weeks ago Chet was designing a new bumper sticker in the office.  A few staff and students were throwing around ideas for a catchy slogan that would entice people to look up the school on their smartphone while they swerved around the streets of Kingston.  Finally Garret suggested the phrase, “Kids Are People Too.”  Everyone was like, yeahhh, that’s it, that’s the one.  That’s awesome.  That’s what we’re about: Kids are people too.  That insight is the starting point of this school. Our structure, our ways of doing things, our reams of protocols and policies and procedures all attempt to follow out the implications of that insight;  kids (and teenagers) are full-blooded human beings, complete as they are, even if less experienced than adults.  And so they ought to be responsible for making decisions about how to spend their time, and they ought to be welcome to take part in legislating, interpreting, and enforcing the rules of their community.  If we want responsible adults,  we ought to refrain from denying kids responsibility.

Schools always have these buzzwords – you know, these lists of words – at the middle school I taught at in MS the second year the principal came up with a list I think it was “four Rs” – I think it was four of them, and responsibility was one of them, but what was meant by it was, “do what you’re told,” and we’ll call you responsible.   And that way of thinking about responsibility is common, and it’s given the word “responsibility” a kind of dour, soggy, burdensome weight.   I mean it’s just no fun, I have to be responsible;  I have to do what I’m told.  And it’s one of our buzzwords, too, but I think we have a better definition here – our definition is something more like, “it’s up to you.”

It’s up to you.

And that is very much not dour or soggy – it’s glorious.  Claiming responsibility for your own life, for your own community, for your world is glorious.  “I am responsible!” That’s heart; that’s love. Something extraordinary is happening today, and we need responsible people.

So I want to give you some advice too – I get to do that, right, as a speaker here today?  I get to tell you what I think you should do?  The first thing I want to tell you is be confident; it helps.  If you’re not confident, pretend.  It works.  Cultivate it.  Remind yourself – Look at yourself in the mirror and say, “I am a goddam hot-blooded human being and I am confident.”  Give it a try.  And, you know, confidence doesn’t mean arrogance, or yelling or in your face, or extroverted; you can be quiet and confident.  You also don’t have to be sure you’re going to succeed at whatever you’re doing to be confident; you just have to know that whatever happens, you’re going to keep going.

You will need moments of confidence to follow my second piece of advice, because it’s risky and dangerous: don’t do what other people tell you to do. Except for me. I don’t mean to suggest that there isn’t a lot of good advice out there.  But my advice is to think for yourself. And when you’re thinking clearly and carefully, oftentimes you will do what you’ve been told to do, because you’ll understand it and choose it yourself.  Mindlessly doing something other than what you’re told is equally destructive as mindlessly doing what you’re told.   So what I mean is don’t just passively adopt the dominant narratives of society; don’t passively do what you’re told.  Thinking is not easy.  It’s hard, slow work, and there are powerful forces all around us trying to keep us from really doing it.  It’s easy to allow your mind to run on autopilot, isn’t it?  It’s easy to just be absorbed into your internal monologue, isn’t it?  It’s easy to be passive.  But you can choose to think deliberately, and you can choose what to think about; I encourage you to think about the world, think carefully about why it is the way it is.  And about why your life is like it is.  Read about it.   Ask lots of questions about it.  Investigate it.  Seek out the guidance and good thinking of others, especially that which contradicts and undermines your own opinions, beliefs, and ideas.  And talk about it, and don’t be afraid to speak with conviction.  If you’re wrong, you can correct yourself later (and you should).  

A man said, “Look. This is your world! You can’t not look. There is no other world. This is your world; it is your feast. You inherited it; you inherited these eyes; you inherited this world of color. Look at the greatness of the whole thing. Look! Don’t hesitate – look! Open your eyes. Don’t blink, and look, look – look further.” (Chogyam Trugpa)

Is anyone familiar with Indra’s Net?  It’s an image from Indian culture of the world as a net, crafted by the god Indra.  At each knot in the net there is a multifaceted jewel, and each jewel represents one thing, and each thing throughout space and time, including people, and including ideas, including each datum that is true, is included.  When you inspect any of the jewels very, very carefully, what you find is the reflection of every other jewel in the web.  Each one implies every other; each one is composed of nothing else besides the others.  And that also means that if any jewel somehow might be changed, every other jewel changes too, even if imperceptibly.  

What you do is important; it changes the world.

Something extraordinary is happening today.  You are graduating; you have been “prepared gradually; arranged, tempered, modified to a certain degree” (definition of “graduate” from Websters 1913).  You’ve done this yourself, and with the help of many others.   And it’s important.  What you do -the decisions you make – matter, even if you’d rather that they didn’t.  That’s another lesson that spending time at a school like this – where we’re all in it together – makes easier to learn.

So.  A great extinction is underway; the world warms inexorably; the oceans acidify; Welcome to the Anthropocene.  Soon Homo Sapiens will be the last living species of great ape, and we will face unprecedented challenges.  But listen to the message that the French general Ferdinand Foch sent to his superior during the First Battle of the Marne in World War I, he wrote, “My centre is giving way, my right side is in retreat. Situation: excellent. J’attaque!” I am glad the five of you are graduating.  The world needs a great community of people who are liable to respond to the situations before them, to address what needs attention, and to find joy in the hard work of creation rather than in personal worlds of pleasure and comfort, and I believe the five of you are on that path. It is a good day to graduate; it is an exciting time to be alive.  You have lived differently here at this school; take it with you.  We need to find different ways of living.  We must.  So let’s do it; let’s keep doing it; let’s do it together.  

Congratulations, and feel free to call me if you ever need to make bail.

Why So Many Song About Rainbow

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[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.

 

The Education of a Sudbury Staff Member

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Recently, our fledgling Gardening Coop put on a milkshake sale to raise money for seeds.  Being the only staff member involved with the coop, I was the default pointman, because we needed someone who could drive to go out and buy the ice cream, use the school debit card, oversee the use of our new blender which the kitchen coop decided not to make available for general use due to unusually frightening bladeage, etc.  So, a milkshake sale:  no planning required, I thought, I am a competent adult, I could run a milkshake sale without taking my eyes off Facebook for a moment, and besides, I’m not even running it, I’m just in charge of a few details.  But the sale quickly turned into an exploration of my own idiocy as well as – more importantly – an illustration of one way HVSS educates.

My first mistake, albeit a minor one, was disconcerting.  At Stewarts, I quickly and efficiently located a freezer which contained ice cream.  Scanning through the selection, I didn’t see either of the flavors we had advertised on offer.  An icy finger drew across my gut: was the ship already – and so easily – sunk?  I phoned the school and asked to speak with the president of the Coop, who is 11 going on 19.  “Matthew,” he told me, “it’s ok – there’s another, much larger freezer in the store.  It has the chocolate and the mint cookie; I wouldn’t have offered those flavors if they weren’t available.”  Clever, I thought to myself, while I thanked him and promised success.  Then, standing in front of the correct freezer, I realized I had made another error by failing to calculate just how much ice cream and milk we needed.  I knew we had 32 people signed up to buy milkshakes, so I did some quick and shoddy calculations and decided to buy 3 gallons of ice cream and 1.5 gallons of milk.  I returned to the school, rounded up the milkshake crew, and we discussed our plan for production and distribution.  I had asked the School Store Clerk to use cups from there, and she had generously agreed but added that next time I ought to get my own cups.  The cups were small – maybe 6 oz, and they were paper – pretty wimpy – but I figured that was the appropriate size because we were only charging $2 for a milkshake, and I wanted to make a handsome profit.  The three students in the fundraising crew were dumbfounded: “Matthew, do you think we’re making milkshakes for little babies?” “Matthew, that’s a $1 milkshake, or maybe a 50 cent milkshake; I would drink that in one little sip.”  “Matthew, that’s not going to work, people won’t pay, are you serious?”  They were right, of course; I looked at the cup in my hand and, after their onslaught, it looked like a thimble.  “Haha,” I laughed nervously, “I guess I’ll run back to the store.”  “Yeah, go back, Matthew.  Hurry up.”

When I returned with respectable cups, we had about half an hour before School Meeting.  No sweat, I thought, plenty of time – milk shakes, right?  We hit our next problem immediately: I had bought “Death by Chocolate” instead of “Chocolate,” because I figured that anyone who wanted “Chocolate” would rather have “Death by Chocolate.”  The moment a student looked at the carton she said, “Matthew this has nuts in it. Everyone who gets one of these will need to abide by the nut policy.”  “Jeez,” I said, “man, that didn’t occur to me.  We’ll just have to tell everyone they need to abide by the policy, I guess.”  But that wasn’t the only issue with Death by Chocolate.  The first person to whom we offered a Death by Chocolate milkshake took a little taste, handed it back, and said, “I don’t want that.”  “Why not?”  “I want a chocolate milkshake,” she said.  Uh-oh.  Most customers who had signed up for Chocolate did accept the Death by Chocolate milkshakes, but a few turned them down, and in the process we learned – based on my mistake –  a lesson on the importance of delivering what you advertise and doing what you say you will.  People who are expecting a certain milkshake will daydream about that milkshake and look forward to it eagerly.  To disappoint them is no pleasant procedure.

We had more lessons coming too, thanks to me.  The three students I was working with had developed an efficient system for production and delivery, with one student and myself blending, one student running the milkshakes, and one student keeping records of who had been delivered a milkshake, who owed money, etc.  Yet, we were closing in on School Meeting, and – particularly because our operation involved both the chair and the secretary of the meeting – we needed to finish fast.  We were also running out of ice cream, due to the shoddy calculations and the last-minute cup change.  We had to act quickly and decisively.  We had a pow wow and decided to serve the final 8 or so customers half milkshakes and charge $1, with our apologies.  That would solve all our logistical problems; we’d have to cut our losses with disappointed customers.  We wrapped up and headed down to School Meeting, talking about how we’d have a meeting before our next fundraiser to organize and plan, and to make sure that “Matthew knows what he’s doing.”  

Sitting in School Meeting, I reflected on what had just happened.  I was embarrassed for my errors, but I was impressed with the way the rest of the crew had come together to bail me out, thinking on their feet.  And now we know the importance of setting aside time to plan and think through even simple events, and to ensure there will be enough time to successfully carry out the plan in the event we hit unexpected obstacles.  And, I was grateful for the easy forgiveness of the rest of the crew.  As a teacher in a traditional school, I guarded carefully against mistakes.  Within the traditional paradigm, the adults, invested with arbitrary authority, are tacitly declared to be infallible, or nearly so.  When I would make a mistake in the classroom, inevitably someone would take the opportunity to attack that chink in the armor of the system – brutal, but just, considering how dehumanizing it is to be a student within that paradigm.  But here at HVSS – where we work within a paradigm fearlessly based on trust, respect, and freedom – after making a series of mistakes, when I apologized to the three students I was working with, they told me, in so many words, “it’s ok, Matthew, don’t worry, we did fine, and anyway, this is how you learn.”

 

There and Back Again: through Sudbury’s doors

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I have recently become a volunteer and substitute staff member for HVSS. Since I’ve been at the school, memories that I had not thought of for many years have resurfaced.

When I was seven, I found myself at the Sudbury Valley School, in Framingham MA, and knew I had found the perfect school for me. I spent the next four years there. During my time there I was the free to play and be a kid. I played all day, everyday. I learned by asking others for help when I needed it, by being in a social environment with peers of all ages, by being hands-on in the art room, and by participating in a fully democratic society. Whenever I tried to force myself to learn something because my parents told me I had to, the attempt inevitability failed.

Now, fifteen years later I am witnessing kids going through that same process. While I watch and interact with students, moments come back to me. When I visited the Judicial Committee, I saw people serving their time. Some were focused, because they knew it was their responsibility, while others were wiggling to get free, so they could go play. I remembered my time, as a wiggling kid; when a big case came in I would stop wiggling and focus because I knew my vote might determine whether or not the case was referred to school meeting where the student might get suspended or expelled.  Another time was when my sister asked me to go easy on a friend of hers who had been written up.  When it came time to vote, I didn’t know what to do; help her friend or choose the punishment I thought most fitting? Serving on JC is where I started to learn wrong and right because it tested my morals at a young age. I cared because I had an equal share of power at a time where no where else in my life was that true. I took it seriously.

 

Serving on JC is where I started to learn wrong and right because it tested my morals at a young age. I cared because I had an equal share of power at a time where no where else in my life was that true. I took it seriously.

 

Being on the other side of this system is still surreal for me. I find myself more frequently interacting with students who are just a little older (12 and older) than I was when I left SVS. This might be because I knew a few of them from outside of school because they go to the summer camp I work for, but I think that there has to be more to it than that. When I look around, I notice that this group is interacting a lot with all the staff. This also brought some memories of my friends during my last year at the Sudbury Valley School. We were starting to grow apart – I was not interested is hanging out with the older kids; I still wanted to play make believe all day. As my friends sought out older friends, they also seemed to be taking a greater interest in the staff as well. As a group of younger students we normally only asked the staff for things if we had to (to certify us, to heat up lunches, and spell things), but as my friends grew tried of playing pretend they wanted to know more hard facts, and that is when they started to set up times to sit down and learn form the staff, or have meals and conversations with them. And, though the group at HVSS still plays all kinds of games to their hearts content, I am also seeing the eagerness for more knowledge emerge.

The best part of attending or working at Sudbury is the commitment to a project. When a student decides they want to do something, they’re all in. I remember wanting to perform, and for every talent show I would be in a dance (it was one of the few ongoing classes at SVS) or I would find Mark, the staff member in charge of the music room, and he would assemble a band and help me (and my friends) rehearse. And we would until we had it down. Currently, I’m working with the HVSS students on a play and they are, in true Sudbury fashion, committed and working hard nearly everyday. At first I was nervous because we had less time to put the show together then I would like, but they’re progressing swiftly because they want to be there and want to do the work.

It is different going to a new Sudbury School and being there as staff, but the more I think about it the more I think it is only because there are different people here. It’s the same model, but a different community, and it’s a diverse community. The variations in personalities surrounding you at HVSS are what really make it a wonderful place to be.

Sudbury and the Quarter-life Crisis

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Recently my wife’s best friend came up for a visit from The City.  At some point in one of our conversations, the three of us began smugly deriding middle-class college graduates in the 22-25 age bracket.  We agreed that, generally speaking, we find them to be tediously indecisive most of the time and exasperatingly poor decision-makers the rest of the time.  Many of them seem to have scant information but firm opinions.  They want to delay difficult and rewarding commitments (and to continue to have lots of fun all the time) yet they want to be taken seriously.  They spend a lot of time and energy comparing themselves to their peers.  They daydream of doing something wild and intense, like joining the Peace Corps, becoming a Zen monk, or sailing around the globe in a dinghy, and some of them eventually get around to doing it, too, usually without really knowing why.  I ended up taking a plunge like that myself, so you see, I speak of this because I know.  Perhaps what middle class youngsters really want is just to be free to explore our world and create our lives on our own terms, but by the time we are released from our schooling many of us are ill equipped to do that in a way that leads to a life we want to call our own.   No adult at my high school or college ever talked with me about it; instead I was always advised to “follow my passion,” all the while staying in school, and trusting the system. Now I wish I was advised to take my passion with me into a field where I could make a living. More significant than any explicit advise I received was the atmospheric sense – the social suggestion – that I was securely installed on some sort of track to a successful life, like a passenger riding on an autopilotically flown craft.  Well, it wasn’t true; it’s necessary to struggle to gain some self-knowledge, think carefully, make difficult decisions, and work hard to create your own life. 

So how does this story about the quarter-life crisis relate to HVSS? First, a disclaimer: this is a theoretical and anecdotal post.  As most of you know, I am a new staff member this year, and I don’t know many HVSS graduates personally.  The school is still so new there aren’t many graduate anyway.  But, I did recently catch up with HVSS’s first graduate, Alex Delia, now 26, to see what he’s up been up to lately, and I wasn’t disappointed, to say the least.  

Since graduating, Alex has started a successful recycling business – Mr. e-Waste, based in Hudson.  He says, “it was a crash course, really sink or swim kind of thing…and I’m swimming.”  When I spoke with Alex he was in Chicago at the airport, preparing to fly home from a business trip he spent working to identify oxidized metals in the waste-stream of a local company.  He thinks it could become a lucrative partnership.  He’s also trying to get Mr. e-Waste on autopilot so he can explore metal trading and recycling solutions.  Alex never attended a traditional school (though he has been inside of a few as a recycling contractor).  I asked him how – if at all – his Sudbury education was helping him succeed so impressively.  He didn’t mention any content he studied, or projects he worked on, or accolades he earned.  He said, “I learned how to be really present with myself, and therefore with others – to be open and receptive.  Basically, to communicate well.  I had a lot of opportunities to sit down with people, talk things over, and figure out how to work together to make things happen.”

 Alex said that things he has struggled with in the past – like reading and spelling, have become strengths as he has built his business over the last several years.  Alex didn’t go to college; he felt he had a choice in the matter, that he was independent – a free agent rather than “a slave.”  He says, “my own choices have covered me in a lot of paperwork, but that’s been fine, because I’ve chosen this, and I’m passionate about it.”  He’s entertaining the idea of going to college sometime soon and pointed out that -having waited – he thinks it will be more beneficial than if he had gone when he was 18.  If he does end up going now, he’ll study accounting, chemistry, and maybe engineering – skill sets that will help him continue to develop his business.  

Finally, I asked him for his take on the “quarter-life crisis.”  He paused, and then said, “well, if there is a quarter-life crisis for me, it’s figuring out how to make my business as beneficial to my community – and particularly the impoverished people within it – as possible.”

One way of thinking about Sudbury that I find helpful is to consider enrolling as beginning now.  At this point in history, life is extremely complex.  Waiting to plunge in – holding back from beginning until a quarter of life is in the books – can be a massive setback.  Allowing kids the responsibility to live their lives is scary, and it can be messy, but that’s why we call it education.

State of the School

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Greetings, Members of the Assembly and its Trustees, School Meeting and its Officers, and friends and dissidents alike. It is my great honor as Chief of Blogging Operations to report to you tonight on the State of Hudson Valley Sudbury School.

I would like to suggest that perhaps – just maybe – if more of our nation’s children had the freedom, trust, and responsibility that students at HVSS have, other addresses given this week assessing states of affairs might have been more honestly positive.  Perhaps, if children and teenagers were respected as complete human beings – inexperienced, but complete as they are at any age (imagine!) – many, many problems  assaulting our nation and our earth would begin to soften and diminish.  HVSS does not pay lip service to the aforementioned “freedom, trust, and responsibility,” nor are they merely glittering generalities at our school: they actually form the foundation of the school: no compulsory curriculum, the freedom to move about the campus and interact with anyone of any age all day, and the responsibility of making good decisions about how to spend the school day.

As per usual, there’s a lot of activity at school these days.  At the moment, there is a sophisticated production of a play underway with the assistance of our new volunteer Trine Boode of the Wayfinder Experience.  A script for a dramatic movie was written recently by a group of students, and production is planned for warmer weather.  Cooking and language classes have been organized and carried out, and we appreciate very much our Assembly members who have agreed to offer their expert instruction.  New Cooperatives have been formed, including a Source Coop, which has helped to organize classes and field trips.  A Gardening Coop – which is gearing up for spring – was formed in response to the donation of our beautiful garden area.  More recently students have reestablished a Music Coop and a Photography Coop.  A few of our older students are busy preparing for Regents Exams, which they need to take to earn diplomas. School here is just feeling good.

On the first day of school this year, we had 50 students enrolled.  Today, we have 59.  We have conducted over 20 interviews with prospective students, many of them aged four and looking to enter a school next year.   Our Open House this month was packed, and the response was very good.  There were several families in attendance considering moving from outside the region in order to have access to the school.   Thank you to all our Assembly members who recommend HVSS among their friends and in their communities; word of mouth is the most effective advertising for a place for this. There is energy swirling around us these days: people are calling every day, setting up interviews, asking to visit the school, asking someone to visit them, etc.  We are in a growing kind of mood: recently an Expansion Committee was formed to develop ideas and establish subcommittees for a preschool, campus expansion, summer camp, and after school child and adult ed programs.  As Barack Obama said in his 2013 address, “if we act together, there is nothing we cannot achieve.” Lucky for us, we have a strong (and small) enough community to actually act together.  From what I understand from my studies of HVSS history, that’s what’s gotten the school to this point already. 

We’ve been getting some good press elsewhere, too.  Did you see Jeff’s interview in the Chronogram?  The monthly Music Nights at the Old Glenford Church have given the school a very solid standing and reputation for quality in the Woodstock community.  Our Winter Gift Sale was elegant, well attended, and very well stocked with beautiful and handmade local craft items.  Our first print ad in several years appeared in the most recent issue of GoodLife Youth Journal.  Also, I recommend the article on Sudbury Valley School in the New Republic.

I’d like to also share this report from the Finance Committee, too: The Assembly created an excellent budget last May, which is serving the school very well this school year. Our expenses are streamlined, tuition is affordable, and we’ve been able to offer financial aid to every qualified family who requested it. This latter point is very important to us; to be a private school, but easily accessible. Our desire is for any family who is interested in our model of education to be able to enroll. We would like to recognize and say thank you to the Fundraising Committee for their efforts, without which we would not be able to realize this goal. Their energy, creativity, resources and constant effort throughout the year are essential, and the efforts of all who participate in fundraising events is very much appreciated.  I’d like to add that the wide, coordinated group efforts being made lend me a grand feeling, and I believe that our community members so willingly – even eagerly – make these efforts because we believe that what we are doing is vitally important, that we have, as George H.W. Bush said in his 1991 address, “a shining purpose, the illumination of a thousand points of light.”

We would also like to recognize the Financial Aid Committee.  This committee has the job of working with families who apply for tuition assistance, examining the family’s financial statements and then preparing a Financial Aid proposal for the family.

Looking forward, progress is being made on the long term plans we have in place, and steps are being taken to improve the financial well-being of the school. One thing we’re very excited about is that we will be investing some of our reserve funds into short term CDs, so that we can begin to realize more substantial interest earnings. Acquisition of the CDs will be staggered, so that funds remain easily accessible. Our reserve account is growing, slowly but steadily, and is on track to become a reliable source of funding for the long term maintenance of our facilities, as well as for managing unexpected expenses. Some projects that are in the works and will be accomplished in collaboration with other Officers include:

  • More proactive marketing of building rental to individuals and groups during non-school hours
  • Establishment of an Expansion Fund account
  • Publication of a handy guide that describes simple ways to contribute to the school. Many of us know that the school is an Amazon affiliate, but did you know that you can get an HVSS credit card where the school receives a small percentage of every purchase you make? Last year the school received $662 from this program, and that was with only two families participating – imagine what that number could be if more people signed up! When you receive the guide later this year, please be sure to read it and take advantage of the ways in which the school can benefit, at no cost to you, but as a result of your participation.

One area where we have made improvement but we need to remain focused is staff salaries. We have attracted a great staff of amazing, creative, dedicated individuals who care deeply about our children, the school community, and the philosophy of the school, and who run the school effectively and efficiently. We don’t want to lose these individuals because the income we offer is insufficient. We want to bring our salaries up to a level that is closer to what individuals with similar responsibilities earn in other educational settings.

In closing, I’d like to go way back to the beginning of our country, and quote our very first President in his 1790 State of the Union speech (again, with substitution): “The welfare of our School is the great object to which our cares and efforts ought to be directed, and I shall derive great satisfaction from a cooperation with you in the pleasing though arduous task of insuring our children the blessings which they have the right to expect: educational freedom, and equal voice in governance.”  Thank you again to everyone who contributes to HVSS, and let’s have a great year. 

Why are you sponsoring that motion, Matthew?

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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?

Perspective from an Alumna (Part 2)

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This blog is the second part of an Alumna’s perspective on her HVSS education.  The first part can be read here: http://sudburyschool.com/blog/perspective-alumni-part-1.  This installment largely focuses on what Marina has done since graduating from HVSS.
 

World Dance Residency

In January of 2012, myself and three other teaching artists from The Vanaver Caravan Dance & Music Company journeyed to Udaipur, India.  We spent a total of four weeks teaching world dance and music to children ages six to fourteen in three schools of vastly varied socioeconomic backgrounds. Udaipur, “the city of lakes” is known for its ancient Rajasthani arts traditions and its picturesque resorts and palaces. Home to one of India’s oldest arts festivals (Shilpgram Utsav) and hundreds of cutting edge NGOs, Udaipur serves as a meeting ground for intellectuals, artists, activists and world-travelers. It is also a city of intense contrasts – where a vibrant history of wealth, luxury and royalty crosses paths with massive economic devastation, inequality, and disparities. While Udaipur boasts many fine educational institutions, the literacy rate is just 62%, with little-to-no access to quality education for poor children, and very few arts programs within the city schools. It is through one of the Hudson Valley’s oldest dance and music companies, The Vanaver Caravan and Udaipur based NGO, Big Medicine Charitable Trust, that this work is made possible. The World Dance Residency program focuses on bringing communities together in celebration of diversity and the many cultures of the world. It provides the space for students, teachers, parents and administrators alike to see the power dance has in uniting people regardless of social status.

The next installment of this project will take place in January 2014. In addition to teaching the children of Udaipur, The Vanaver Caravan and Big Medicine Charitable Trust have expanded the program’s reach by signing New York University on board. NYU has created a winter study abroad option that is open to any student across the globe with college credits that are transferrable. Students will have the opportunity to learn about Rajisthan’s rich culture through classes in traditional art, dance and music taught by Udaipur locals. This is an incredible opportunity for cultural exchange between people of all ages. It is an opportunity for global citizenship.

In the process of fundraising I reached out to communities around the globe that I’ve connected to in my travels and found overwhelming support and encouragement.  Through local action one can create and sustain thriving communities both at home and around the world.

ONE

“Made to symbolize the magnificence of man and the interconnectedness of humanity, ONE consists of over 100 aerialists dancing together in mid-air, for one hour, suspended 150 feet above ground, and moving via high-powered computer operated winches, underneath a constructed truss.”

That is the mission of the second project I am a part of, ONE.  I received an email in early May of this year from an older, very successful dancer and aerialist who danced with The Vanaver Caravan and watched me grow up since the age of four. She said that she thought I might be interested in this project and should apply. Unfortunately, by the time I had read her email, the deadline to submit had passed. I e-mailed them anyway and was told to send my resume as soon as possible. I did, and two weeks later I received ten in-depth questions about my physical training, experience working in groups, and why I wanted to be a part of this groundbreaking performance. I sent in my responses excited, but not optimistic at my chances of actually getting an audition, as I had no experience doing aerial work. Surprisingly, a few weeks later I was given an audition time and date and told to show up prepared to copy an aerial routine that would be shown once. Three weeks later, after an epic journey from Charlotessville, NC to Brooklyn, NY, I found myself in a group of ten dancers and aerialists, (the last of over two hundred in New York City to audition) all equally nervous, awaiting our turn to perform for the judges. When I walked into the warehouse studio, I was met with familiar faces: the woman who had emailed me, her partner, and another Vanaver dancer who also tossed me around as a tiny five year old on many stages for many audiences. They harnessed me in, checked me twice and sent me up. Ten feet, thirty, fifty, sixty….still climbing. It was exhilarating. I was beaming so brightly, I couldn’t help myself. Why was I still dancing on the ground when I could weightlessly fly like this? I knew my chances of making it to callbacks were slim, as they held auditions in nine countries. Nevertheless, I was absolutely thrilled to have given it a shot and to have tasted flight.

After the audition, I took the two hour bus trip back to Philly where I returned to a hectic schedule of commuting and working. Weeks passed and the high wore off. It seemed like a distant dream until  one scorching Summer afternoon when I received an e-mail from ONE at Central Park. At first, all it said was, “Congratulations!” I was baffled. Were they teasing me? Did I get it? The rest of the message loaded and indeed, I had been chosen as one of the one hundred. Wow. I was stunned. My partner picked me up, spinning me around excitedly. I had actually gotten in, but it wasn’t without the help and encouragement of my community.

ONE will premier during the Spring or Fall of 2014. During the ten days of performances, it will bring in approximately 10,000 viewers per show and 53 million via webcast. I am humbled and thrilled to have been chosen to be a part of the team that will bring this magical vision to life and into the lives of so many around the globe.

It is Sudbury that taught me the importance of community and gave me the skills needed to thrive in one. How to give and take in equal parts; the importance of a network of support.

Links to Marina’s Projects

The blog that I kept while teaching in India:  http://vanavercaravan.tumblr.com/
 
The Vanaver Caravan’s Indiegogo Campaign. Though it is too late to donate on the page, if you feel so inclined, please visit www.vanavercaravan.org to make your tax-deductible donation or learn more about the company.  http://www.indiegogo.com/projects/dancing-for-change-in-udaipur-india
 
ONE’s website:  www.oneinnewyork.com
 
Audition Footage from ONE (for those who don’t know Marina, you can see her at the 10 second mark): http://vimeo.com/76169641 
 
Human Architecture, Production Company:  http://human-architecture.org/WhatisOne.php
 
Press Coverage of ONE can be found at the following links: