It’s Important to Know How to Fail

At Hudson Valley Sudbury School, our “learning standards” are categorically different from the standards used at other schools; our goal is that students learn whatever is most salient for them to live a fulfilling life. Sometimes, what is most salient is a “life skill” like tying their shoes or remembering to eat lunch. Often, it is an interpersonal skill, like how to set a boundary in a relationship. Occasionally, it is an “academic skill” like performing the arithmetic needed to make change, or the more advanced math needed to do well on the SAT. Ultimately, for many students, it isn’t really a skill at all – it’s wisdom about how to be human, as exemplified in this reflection by one of our nine-year-olds who has grown up at the school. This is the kind of learning people tend to do when they are free, safe, and ensconced in a supportive community – the kind of learning we are fortunate enough to witness routinely at our school. 

“My flute teacher said that one thing he struggled with when learning the flute was trusting himself. But he learned that the more you persevere the more you trust yourself. 

I never even thought of that – trusting yourself. I only thought of it as something that you do to someone else, or someone else does to you. You can actually skip that whole factor – if you just don’t think about trusting yourself and you just do it. But when you fail I guess some people lose a lot of trust. 

Persevere – gain trust – persevere- gain trust – fail – lose trust – try again – persevere- gain trust. It’s an infinite loop. 

I am so used to failing in certain things, like in some games, that I know exactly what I need to do, I try again. And I don’t care if I fail, it’s normal, and I can always try again. Failure to me…instead of a little bit of sadness and anger…for me, it’s motivational. To help me move forward. Instead of holding me back.

Did you know that if you never lose you will never truly win? You have to take multiple attempts at at least one thing in order truly win – at anything. What happens is that..in all of it…there’s no…no way to win without losing. If you win every single time then it doesn’t feel good to win. It feels like a normal thing. And then when you don’t win you get extremely mad. 

It’s important to fail, and it’s important to know how to fail. And it’s important to not get mad at someone else when YOU fail. Because it’s not your fault, or their fault, or a game’s fault, it’s just life. If you blame someone else for your failure then nothing is gained, only stuff is lost, and you lose trust in yourself. If you look at failure as helping you, and healing you, instead of destroying you, then that is the key to actually winning. 

And this doesn’t just apply to games. It applies to everything, so many things: painting, building, reading, writing, sewing, acrobatics, friendship, crocheting, so, so, so many things.”

It Feels Good

Yesterday was the second day of school at The Hudson Valley Sudbury School. For me it was an emotional start to the year. My youngest is now officially enrolled as a fresh five year old, and two of my oldest graduated last year leaving me to start the year without them. It’s been bittersweet. I know that they were ready to leave.  One is at Sarah Lawrence College, not too far from home so I can still lay eyes on him every so often. I look forward to watching him grow, I eagerly await the stories of his classes, his adventures and what it’s like to be a Sudbury grad, and of course to watch him serve as an alumni at various school events. The other has flown across the world to conquer the professional video game stage, signed as a well-paid, pro player on a team in Asia. He’s on a team that is navigating having players who speak 4 different languages; he’s training, he’s greeting fans, he’s keeping color-coded spreadsheets about technical play – the opportunity of a lifetime. They are both exactly where they should be, and they have taken these steps with a grounded confidence that makes me proud. And I’m doing what I can to miss them in a positive way.

My five year old has taken to the school with gusto. He wakes up early so he can take the school bus (even though I go in two hours later) and makes sure to check if I will be leaving later than the bus. He comes home exhausted after hours of make believe games, of running hard. He’s excited to tell me how he beat a new level in a game he’s been playing, bought something from the school store or was the first on his team to be ready for End of Day Cleaning. His confidence and independence are soaring. While I miss having my baby at home, attached to me, it is blaringly obvious how happy and ready he is to be there. He has also been a walking reminder of what my 17 year old was like when he enrolled just shy of 5. It’s a changing of guards as his graduation means we no longer have any students from when we first opened.

So many things have changed within these walls and on this campus since the day we opened 14 years ago. With the exception of two staff the entire student and staff body is different. The building has been painted, there is an incredible playground, a garden, and an entirely new building has sprouted up. The processes, for the most part feel well oiled and there is solid history behind law decisions and culture. It feels secure and grounded. It feels good.

Now, feeling that the school is stable, that the ship is in good hands, I can look toward the future. We have some exciting projects in the works: we’re looking at ways to build a strong endowment, maybe even so strong we could run the budget off the interest, and we’re thinking about ways to support the Sudbury philosophy worldwide – sending ambassadors out to help startup groups, etc. – we’re thinking a bit outside these walls. It also feels good.

Yesterday, as I sat on the swings and looked around the campus I was struck by how many things had changed and at the same time everything is the same. I watched a group of boys climb high into the trees, a couple of young girls walking arm in arm chatting, 3 young boys were playing hard in the sandbox – leaping from the boulder while battling imaginary bad guys, a group of teens were talking in the garden, surrounded by fresh veggies and flowers…. They were all so happy to be back at school. And I could feel it from the swings as I surveyed the campus. So I hopped up and took an hour finding each person in attendance, and I asked them one question and wrote down their unfiltered answers. It confirmed my beliefs. I am so grateful to be part of a school where feeling “good”, “great”, “awesome” or “serene” is at the forefront of their minds.

  • Their answers to “How does it feel to be back? (and for the new members of the community – “How does it feel to be here?”)
  • It so serene, cool and chill. Weird, but cool chill. I’ve never been so relaxed in a school setting before. It’s weird to get used to.
  • It’s like family
  • Liberating
  • It feels really good. I feel more grounded. I missed all the people more than I thought I would. It feels great to be back with people who feel the same way as I do.
  • Cool
  • Good, good, great!
  • Amazing
  • Good
  • Feels pretty good
  • Fine, great, it’s nice to be back
  • Good!
  • I like it!!
  • Weird
  • Good
  • Thumps up
  • Little bored
  • Good
  • It’s good
  • Pretty good, better than my last school!
  • Yeah, it’s gooood
  • Good
  • Why did it start so late??
  • Oh yeah, it’s great!
  • I had a great summer but it’s good…so what are you doing?
  • Good
  • Good, I mean, you can’t top good!
  • Welcome. And I’m not alone all the time, my life is back on track!
  • Energizing
  • Same old same old – I’ve got this one (pointing at a friend) and this one (pointing at another friend)
  • Pretty good, bored, a bit stressful
  • I never left, but for the most part it’s absolutely wonderful to have all the kids and commotion back. I like having kids back even if it’s harder to get work done.
  • It feels pretty good, but surreal not having the people who left.
  • It feels real great.
  • Good, I’m bored at home
  • LIT
  • Really awesome, best day. I’m really so happy. I’m glad to have some time away from my family and to be with my friends.
  • Awesome la vista, awesome ba bista
  • Awesome, awesome, for real!
  • Good, great
  • Great
  • Amazing, really! I missed my friends
  • It’s the cat’s pajamas to be back
  • Good
  • Meh
  • It’s good, I like it
  • It feels amazing, like I never left
  • I missed school
  • A hearty 7 out of 10
  • Cool
  • Good!
  • It feels like chocolate pudding
  • Hopeful
  • Invigorating – there are so many opportunities
  • Good
  • Good, I’m excited to have something to do
  • Great
  • Feels like a reset on my brain, a nice exhale, first stretch of the morning, first sip of coffee all at once, all day long.
  • Pretty good
  • Radical
  • Feels kind of like…something
  • Pretty fantastic
  • It feels like Christmas morning, lots of anticipation, bubbling excitement and surrounded by family

Playground Build 2016

I have to admit that I was nervous last Friday morning.  We had really paired down our plans for build day because most of our project leaders were unable to come on the actual date, and only a few people had signed up to participate.  Then, during the week, lots of people volunteered to come, which was great, but I worried we didn’t have anything for them to do.  I imagined little groups of bored and despondent, formerly hopeful people milling around in hats and work gloves, wondering why I was so unprepared utilize their talents.  I imagined them packed into the kitchen while it poured outside, huddling over styrofoam cups of instant coffee, staring grimly at the muddied floor, kindly offering their seats to each other, maybe even taking turns weeping bitterly in the far corner.  I imagined patiently trying to explain to each person the predicament, why it turned out like this, but being received, like a foreign diplomat trying in vain to maintain favor after breaking a promise, with icy silence, stiff nods, and untrusting-yet-firm eye contact.  

It turns out, though, that people don’t necessarily need to be told what to do.  When the time came, tasks and projects seemed to appear out of nowhere to fit the abilities and inclinations of those who were there. Imagine that.  The grounds were cleaned up and noticeably improved, new ground was claimed for the playground(!), and several creative structures were built by hard-working teams.  And it didn’t even rain.

People jumped right in, got to know each other, made new friends, and generally had a blast working together.  Try as we might to maintain our cool, nearly all of us were swept away in ecstatic waves of philia.  Human beings are made to band together to accomplish mutual goals; few things are sweeter or feel better.  I’d even claim that being part of such communal efforts is an essential nutrient.  Today we are well-fed.  To all who came out, please know that we are extremely grateful for your work, and even more so for your energy and kindness.  This school has always been a communal effort, built by many without centralised authority, the way a school should be.  Thank you all again, and see you Saturday!

See the Facebook Album for more pictures: https://www.facebook.com/HudsonValleySudburySchool/photos/?tab=album&album_id=10154287740028804

Sacred Acorns

There are times that I stumble upon an activity at the Hudson Valley Sudbury School that make my jaw drop in awe of the brilliance of children: their creativity, their simplicity, and their ingenuity. Coming upon The Sacred Acorn Civilization was one of those moments. I stood at the edge of our natural play-scape wide-eyed as I surveyed several young barefoot boys busily collecting acorns, carefully balancing bark, and finding perfect natural tools to build a civilization. Set amongst several stumps on a gradual hill, were intricate acorn and stick sculptures – balconies, huts, stone paths, and walls, all perfectly set in miniature style. It was beautiful. And it was clear these boys had been there for hours, not only by the exacting work they had done, but also by the dirt between their toes, the seats of their pants, and the expressions of their faces – calm and focused. The language they were using sounded to be a different dialect, familiar yet foreign.

Finally I was able to catch my breath. “What are you doing?” I asked. The response comes matter-of-factly: “We are currently mucking acorns. That’s taking the inside out. And then we put them in the Muck Store. You can smash them with rocks or hard sticks to get the goop out. We call it “mucking.” We try to smash them between two rocks so it doesn’t destroy the stumps. The lighter the goop the better it is. We use the muck as a building material, to keep things together.” With that they went back to work, gathering, crushing and balancing, young primitive workers using natural materials to create a culture.

 am not sure why I was surprised to come across this bustling civilization as it seems to be something each generation of children create at here at school. The first HVSS civilization popped up in 2005 and took over the majority of the playing field. Several kids had their own “worlds” built from rocks, dirt, sticks, moss, flowers, and acorns. In the center of the field there was a circular general store where items were available for trade or purchase. Hours were dedicated to perfecting homes and working out the delicate balance of trading.

The following year the back hill was home to a new miniature world. Two boys around the age of 10 began this new rendition and the general ideas were the same. They were quite literally the kings of the hill, decreeing trading values and where homes could be built. But after discovering a large shiny rock at the edge of the woods a 6 year old was able to “buy” the entire hillside from them and the power was re-distributed. The kids involved in these first two renditions have either graduated or are on the verge of doing so and the details of these games are but distant memories.

In 2008 a new set of children went back to their roots and collected acorns, mashed them up and made hand cream out of them. They sold the cream to others in the school. They also made cities, houses, and bowls from the acorn shells and little cities out of acorns and sticks. One participant looked back, “we had little jobs, you could crack the nuts with a flat rock or chop them if you could find a sharp stick. We would also use a round rock and stick like a mortar and pestle, adding a little bit of water and mushed up flowers.”

After a significant rainfall in 2011, the back gravel path was turned into a study of irrigation. A young girl made intricate paths in the stone, routing and rerouting the water. She created these streams, damns, and collection pools while barefoot, grounded by the earth, just like our ancestors.

Here we are in 2015, an age of technology and consumerism, and a new round of children have their toes in the dirt, discovering for themselves how we as a society began, by making tools, building with what is naturally available, creating commerce out of acorns, and teaching their elders to reconnect with the beauty of the world around us.

Why is this universal? Why do we, as a society, without being trained, without being taught, always come back to the most basic constructs of life? It becomes clear how innate it is to collaborate in the art of foraging, designing, and building. Their ingenuity when it comes to the creation of tools is both resourceful and creative. And there they sit, in a sustained and focused activity, perfecting the balance of bark and rock to create a balcony. They may have iPods sticking out of the back pocket of their Gap jeans, but these kids are connected to their roots, not indirectly, by lecture or assignment, but directly, by sensory experience and imagination, because they have the time and space to connect to the natural world and let the simplicity of life shine through.

Giving

This week’s blog is a joint effort from Staff Members Vanessa Van Burek and Matthew Gioia.  They both reflect on their recent experiences with gifts, giving and community.

One thousand.

That is the number of children that the People’s Place of Kingston, a local food pantry, is trying to collect gifts for this holiday season.

As I prepare for Christmas in my own house I find myself excited for Christmas morning; for the unpacking of stockings, the huge smiles, the peeking through the french doors at a tree laden with wrapped goodies. I am fortunate. I have the time and the money to invest in my children having a magical Christmas. But many people aren’t as lucky. While we busied ourselves with Christmas preparations we also stumbled upon the recent New York Times article “Invisible Child”. The article follows Dasani, a girl struggling to survive as her family lives in a shelter in NYC. It was a humbling and devastating article and the timing made a huge impression on Ava, who, like Dasani, is eleven. Ava said “She’s my age and she is taking care of her whole family. What am I doing? Sitting here looking at my computer.”

That’s where community comes into play. This year our School Meeting passed a motion to partner with People’s Place of Kingston to help collect gifts. Beginning at the Winter Gift Sale, cards were strung through the school, each with the age and gender of a registered child. Shoppers selected the card or cards they wanted and purchased gifts at the sale for them. Vendors were supportive of the effort and offered deep discounts for shoppers purchasing gifts for this program. By the end of the day we had 25 high quality gifts – 25 purchases that supported local artists; a win – win.

In addition, Sudbury families purchased gifts at other locations and dropped them at the school. Over 100 presents were collected. The kids were beaming with pride and excitement as we packed the car full of gifts to take down to People’s Place. We can’t end homelessness, but we all have the ability to at least provide a smile to a deserving child.

After we dropped off the gifts I asked Ava how she felt.  She said, “I felt proud to be a part of collecting gifts. I felt like a Superhero. Helping collect gifts is one small step. It made me feel better because it’s going to kids like Dasani.”

-Vanessa

 

I finally got to witness and participate in HVSS’s famous “Secretive Santa” game last Friday.  I must admit, I was unprepared for it, and in retrospect handled my shopping for it a bit nonchalantly.  The whole morning an anticipatory buzz filled the school.  There was shrieking, giggling, and lots of nervous pacing (running). It felt…like Christmas.  There was the “Christmas miracle” of zero JC complaints to handle.  Oh, and there was a brief, halfhearted “war on Christmas,” speedily quelled. One student stood on a chair in the lounge watching the clock, reliably (loudly) counting off each minute until 11 o’clock.  

The gifts were opened one-by-one, because everyone wanted to see every gift.  As each recipient opened their gift they held it aloft so the crowd could gaze, mutter proclamations of astounded joy under their breath, and then shout and clap with glee.  I’m not kidding.  I was impressed by how well thought out and selected the gifts were; they matched their recipients perfectly, even when there were significant age gaps or the giver-receiver pair hadn’t spent much time together.  Very observant group.  Reflecting on this, I realized the real value of the whole Secretive Santa game, and I felt remiss for failing to properly honor and respect it myself.  The game, from the selecting of names, to the sleuthing for information, to the grand event, strengthens the school community, creating fresh bonds and invigorating old ones.  It felt like a family event and, if I may be a a bit dramatic and use some religious metaphor, that fulfilled the promise of Christmas for me: the revelation of family-like community.

I don’t have any studies to site today, but it seems self-evident to me that kind of community – larger than the nuclear family and including a greater variety of people than a single family ever could, but still caring and attentive – is the best kind environment for kids to grow, mature, and just be in.

Halleluja.

– Matthew

Uncommon Core

One of the biggest ongoing stories in education today is the debate over the Common Core, a set of K-12 standards dictating what students should learn and which has been adopted by 45 states.  Objections to the rollout of the Common Core have been numerous and vocal, but one in particular was highlighted for me at our Gift Sale on Saturday: having a “common” curriculum built around intensive testing is an attack on creativity.  That is, by working to ensure that students’ minds are not on “the wrong path“, the Common Core actively seeks to thwart their creative potential.  It does seem inevitable that we would end up with a Common Core, given the history of our education system, which was powerfully influenced by the Prussian military machine that was so good at efficiently turning out effective and cooperative soldiers.   Many people have anecdotal evidence, and now there have been recent studies that show that teachers already overwhelmingly discriminate against creative students.  This is not a knock on teachers, either – the system compels them to act this way, and many of them find brilliant ways of subverting it.  Not surprising, then, that the system seeks to further standardize itself.  It is an irony, though (maybe someone can explain it to me?), because business leaders today increasingly claim they want to hire creative people with fresh ideas and problem-solving skills.  The anti-creativity effects go beyond making a living, though, because creativity is also essential to making a life – it’s skill that goes far beyond the arts, which it’s relegated to in common discourse.  Perhaps fear of uncertainty is what’s driving a lot of decisions about our education system.  We want to ensure “success,” and so new and creative ideas, which are inherently uncertain, and difficult to measure, are banished.  At HVSS, we offer a kind of Uncommon Core: an opportunity for creativity to flourish.  It’s going on all the time at school, but Saturday offered a clear look at it because the full trajectory of some projects became visible.

The seventh annual HVSS Gift Sale was a success in many ways.  The school was filled with beautiful hand-made crafts, there was a good turnout, scores of gifts were bought for People’s Place of Kingston, and the Sale was anchored by six student vendors, the youngest of whom is five years old.  All the student vendors went through a multi-step process to develop their products, design logos, price items, and display them in a professional manner.  They made hundreds of dollars and donated 10% to the school.  All of their own accord, of course.  Their products were unique, too – duct tape bow ties, heart-shaped rainbow crayons, “Brutal Bookmarks,” etc. I got a tiny stuffed ghost and a brochure describing how to properly feed, love, and put it to sleep.  I couldn’t decide which Brutal Bookmark to get, so I got two.  I want to be totally clear about this: I didn’t buy these things out of sentimentality or affection.  I wanted them, because they were high quality, charming, and creative.  Many shoppers at the Sale remarked on the student vendors’ confidence, poise, and professionalism.  One of the student vendors said, “just wait until next year when we’re more experienced!”

It’s probably fair to say that we all want certainty to one degree or another, in one arena of our lives or another (or in all of them).  When I describe Sudbury to people, they always want to know if it really works, do the kids go to college, where do they end up.  They want some degree of certainty.  Look, I get it, and those are certainly important questions.  But I also think that an offer of certainty can never be made, and that the quest for certainty – as embodied by our national education crisis, inhibits the lifeblood of our children.  I have no idea what our students will become, or how they will develop.  But I know that here they have the time and the freedom to create themselves, and I believe in them.  If you do want some proof, though, come to next year’s gift sale – our students will be even more experienced by then.

Child Rearing (excerpts)

The following is an extract from the book Child Rearing by Daniel Greenberg.  The book is available at the Sudbury Valley School Press online store at: http://bookstore.sudburyvalley.org/product/child-rearing

Chapter 9 – Ages Four and Up

By age four or thereabouts, human beings have a fully developed communication system which, for all intents and purposes, makes them mature persons. They are capable of expressing themselves, of understanding what’s said to them, and of structuring continuous thought; and they are capable of doing things with their environment. You could ask whether a person age four and up belongs at all in a book on childrearing, because I don’t consider someone over that age to be a child. To a certain extent the subject doesn’t belong here, and yet society considers people to be children until a much older age than four, and so we have to discuss this largely because society forces it on us.

I want to explain what I mean by a person over four being mature. The key element of maturity is judgment. At around four, people have at their disposal a fully developed sense of how to go about solving problems and how to go about making decisions; they have a sense of what they know and what they don’t know, what kind of information they need to solve problems, and when they are out of their depth. This is very hard for people in our culture to believe about children. For some reason, most people think that judgment is developed much later. They aren’t able to pinpoint exactly when –some say 13, others 16, others 18, or 21. I do not see any significant change that takes place after age four or so. When I look at a four or five or six year old making decisions, I see all the components of the judgment process that I see in a person aged forty. The process is the same, acompletely mature one, weighing the questions and the available information and the previous life experience. What does change with age is that a person gains knowledge and learning and life experience that can be called upon in making judgments. But I think you have to remember that this is a very qualitative process which goes on at all ages. A person aged fifty can have just as many difficulties solving a problem as a person aged five. A person aged fifty confronted with a new situation can feel just as helpless as a child. We have phrases for this in our language; we talk about older people confronted with difficult situations and refer to them as being “like children.” Actually, the language reflects society’s prejudices. What we really mean is that this is something common to any age when people are confronted with new situations, recognize their limitations, and don’t have the adequate data at hand. Our prejudice is that we expect a fifty year old, confronted with the need to make hard decisions, to go about making these decisions in a certain way, and what we don’t recognize adequately about four year olds is that they do exactly the same thing. There are doubtless a greater number of areas in which four or five or six year olds are inexperienced, and so they may need more help. But even that’s an argument you have to be very careful about, because there is a kind of feedback mechanism here. Four and five and six year olds don’t get into all that many situations which they find to be over their heads. As they grow older, they get into more and more complex situations, usually refraining from going in too deep. It’s something you see at all levels of maturity. People always meet with new challenges, but they generally recognize their limitations and try not to go in over their heads. So when all is said and done, the decision-making processes of a five year old and a fifty year old are quite similar. In both cases the people involved in the process can be faced with the need for new data, realize their limitations, and be stuck. It isn’t just children who are stuck and inexperienced; anybody can be, when confronted with a situation that is strange to them.

Another characteristic, other than judgment, which is often used to distinguish five year olds from fifty year olds, is learning. We often hear it said that “children still have a lot to learn.” On the other hand, we have the opposite attitude toward older people, who are held to be virtually incapable of learning; “you can’t teach an old horse new tricks.” Actually, the human being is a learning animal throughout life, from the moment of birth until the moment of death; indeed, when a human being has stopped learning, he is essentially dead. As long as there is any brain activity, learning is possible — which is probably true of lower animals as well. So to say that having a lot to learn is something that distinguishes younger people from older people just isn’t founded on any reasonable view of human nature that I can think of.

Another distinction that people try to draw between young people and older people is that between dependence and independence. People tell their young children that they are terribly dependent, and you often hear a parent say, “As long as I have to take care of this and that, you’re going to have to do what I ask, and when you’re older and independent, you can do what you please.” Whereas our picture of adults is that they are independent people. Again, I find this to be a very misleading distinction. If we think about it, we realize that adults too can be very dependent, for example, on their spouses or close friends. They depend on other persons for help, or to come through in times of crisis. We have ways of expressing this, such as “It’s good to have friends you can count on.” What we’re really saying is, that for all our independence, a large part of us is still dependent upon friendship. In a much deeper sense, modern society is particularly interdependent in a lot of ways –economically, socially, ecologically. Even the people who advocate a return to nature often find themselves in an ironic dependency upon the rest of civilization to bail them out in a pinch. You can think of any number of examples. It’s almost impossible to be in a position in which you are independent from the rest of society. So I think that people like to fool themselves a bit as far as this is concerned, especially when they talk to children. When adults talk among themselves, they fully realize that they are dependent upon each other and the rest of society, but the big stress on independence usually shows when they are talking to children. You can even compare the way parents talk to their children with the way they talk with each other. It’s rare that a husband and wife will invoke their dependence in arguments. It’s just not a usual adult frame of reference, even though they may be terribly dependent upon each other. But when children and parents argue about their differences, time and again, one of the first things that comes into the argument is “so long as you’re dependent upon me, you’ve got to do it my way.” I think it is interesting to see this double standard invoked to keep children in line.

The other part of what I want to say is that children four, five and six years old — let alone older children — are a lot more independent than we give them credit for. They are quite capable of thinking for themselves and understanding what is going on. In every sense, they have minds of their own. To me it is amazing how often adults do not consider children to be real people. The weirdest things happen. Adults often act in the presence of children as if they were not there, like non-entities. Things are often said and done in front of them as if they were part of the furniture. For example, there are many classic stories of doctors discussing cases in front of children who are patients as if the children were not lying there in full view, something the same doctors would not dream of doing in front of adults.

Another category that is often used to distinguish children from adults is play. People say, “children prefer to play a lot, and are not serious about life.” Whereas adults supposedly do serious things. Indeed, adults are careful to label their play, so that when they decide to play, they can announce the fact, in order to separate the occasion from the rest of the time when they are being very serious. I think that there’s a lot to be said on this subject. Perhaps the best place to begin is with the observation that, in less inhibited surroundings (i.e., non-starched-shirt surroundings), frolic and play is something that people engage in at all ages. For example, anthropologists frequently comment on the play they observe in so-called “primitive” tribes among adults. Of course, this is always called “child-like play” — another instance of our language clearly reflecting our preconceived notions — but the fact remains that mature people like to play. And the main reason for this is that play is a creative, natural kind of activity for an associative, curious, probing mind.

Sad to say, our society reveals itself in this area too. We are so hung up on programming adults into well-defined, set activities and fixed routines that we tend to squelch play in grown-ups. It’s not because of their age, but because of the roles they have to assume in Western industrial culture. Often, you hear a person say about someone else he has known professionally for years, and he has happened to be with on a vacation: “I didn’t realize that this person was so much fun, that he had such a light side to him.” We are always amazed to observe in others what is really a natural characteristic of people of all ages, but is repressed in the daily lives of most people in our society.

In summary, many of the differences which society claims to exist between children and adults don’t really exist. People aged four or so and up all have judgment, they all learn, they are all both dependent and independent in various ways, they all play, etc. I don’t see any grounds for distinguishing in a qualitative manner between a person age four, five, or six and a person aged twenty or thirty. At about four, a person’s body and mind have reached functional maturity, and from then on they accumulate a storehouse of experience and knowledge as they proceed along their unique path in life. Which all boils down to saying a very simple thing: that as far as we are concerned, as soon as children have reached four or so, they have to be treated like you treat any other person whom you consider an adult.

Now, you have to be careful not to draw the wrong implications from this conclusion. Thus, it would be catastrophic to deny children what is due them. All people, regardless of age, have needs which should not be overlooked. For example, all people have the need for affection. It’s not the case that you have to give a lot of affection to a four or five year old, but when a person turns twenty, you can turn cold. Affection is necessary for human being all through life. So are love, warmth, and physical contact. We accept these needs in an infant, but we sort of tail off later on in life, although they are as vital to an adult as to a child aged four. The question we have to address at this point is, “How did this differentiation between ages happen in Western culture?” This question turns out to be related to another, namely, “Why do we consider adolescence to occur at such a late age in Western culture, at puberty?” The answer in both cases lies in the nature of Western civilization and its industrialized technological society.

There are many aspects to the answer and I just want to highlight a few of them in order to present the gist of the argument. One thing that has happened is that the average human life span has increased fantastically so that people live almost three times as long as they used to live up to a relatively short time ago. The resulting population explosion has led to enormously complex problems in simply providing for all these people. One technique for managing the situation is reducing job competition by lopping off both ends of the manpower spectrum. On the one hand you introduce a retirement age to get rid of older workers (although it is inherently ridiculous to associate a chronological age with the need to stop working). This has endowed us with a society full of people who are in their sixties, seventies, and older, who are capable of doing productive work and deriving satisfaction from it, but who are forced to retire and face the tedium of enforced idleness. That is how we lop off one end of the spectrum. Then we say further that a person can’t enter the job market until at least fourteen years of age, preferably eighteen or older, with the preferred age of entry going up as the population increases. A hundred years ago people in large numbers began work at age eight or nine. It is often said that the age was pushed upward out of compassion for children. While this undoubtedly was a factor, I think the major reason children were removed from the job market was to keep them from competing with grownups. There just weren’t enough jobs to go around, and one way to handle it was to pass child labor laws.

The end result of getting the old and the young out of the job competition has been to introduce monumental problems of old age and of youth in our society because of the large numbers of able persons who have been deprived of a productive function in their lives.

Another aspect of late adolescence stems from the fact that an industrialized society, of the kind that we have had over the last century, needs highly trained robot-like people to fit into certain places in the economy. This takes time and effort. To take a human being and turn him into a robot is something that you can’t do overnight, and it is very different from training a person to a responsible role. In the old days, children started apprenticing themselves when they were still quite young; it was fairly common to see four and five year olds standing around a smithy or a weaving shop or whatever and learning the intricate tricks of the trade. Indeed, even toddlers are capable of absorbing minute details of the procedures taking place in the home – even intricate ones like how to cook, how to clean, etc. It is a mistake (that I have already discussed) to think that little children cannot be useful in complex situations. They can be. It is not the complexity that we are talking about at all. From the dawn of man little children found ways to ease themselves into complex situations gradually. Even in the most complex industrial society children aged four and up can have a vital role, can find a place of interest where they can observe and slowly master all the intricacies. It is the need to turn them into robots that takes time. It takes years to do that. There is a strong correlation between the degree of technological advancement and the length of time it takes. For example, consider science. Today, the average Ph.D in science is an uncreative robot drone who still has to go out and become a post-doctoral appointee for several years under somebody else’s guidance. Usually, he doesn’t begin to do his own work until he is in his thirties. That’s the norm in science, a highly advanced field. Why is this the case, when a generation or two ago the norm was that people in their early twenties were doing creative work? The answer is that in earlier times there were fewer scientists. There was a small group, so everyone could relax, and there was no pressure to force scientists into a mold. Today there is a tremendous amount of competition, and a highly routinized set of tasks for scientists to perform. It is necessary nowadays to prepare them for this and for that – to prepare so many solid state physicists to service industries, and to prepare so many biologists to fight disease, etc. Science is a completely different enterprise than it used to be, and if you just let everybody do what they want, if you would give them the same freedom that they used to enjoy, most of them would be doing things that society didn’t particularly want them to do. So society puts tremendous pressure on developing scientists to keep them in line, and the longer they are kept in line, the less likelihood there is that at the end of their long training they will still be independent and creative enough to break out of their pre-set mold, and the more society will be able to rely on them to stay in a rut the rest of their lives. What I have said about science holds in general: the more complex the society gets, and the more options that are open, the harder it is to mold young people into set patterns, and hence the longer it is necessary to keep them as robots, even up to an age that is way beyond what anybody considers childhood.

The question that I had set out to answer was, “Why do we have adolescence in our society through puberty and beyond?” In brief, the answer is that over the years society has required more and more time to break people in for robot-like roles, and therefore there is a delay in the period when the kinds of things associated with adolescence take place – the kinds of phenomena discussed in the last chapter, having to do with the transition from a state of dependence to a state of independence. A science post-doc goes through a period of adolescence at age thirty. Most people in our society go through their major adolescence in their late teens (rather than between one and four, when it would be normal), but they go through it again whenever they make a transition from a state of total dependence to a state of semi-independence, with all the attendant break-downs and rebellions and resentments. I think that in the kind of society that I have been advocating there won’t be the phenomenon of teenage adolescence at all. Rather, all there will be is the kind of adolescence that I talked about earlier, between ages one and four, where the really significant life changes take place on the road to personal independence. But this can only happen in a society which has no need for the kind of robot-like training that now takes place.

I want to say a few final words about the role of a person age four and up in the family. I’ve assumed that a child up to age four is the object of care and attention, as is due to a developing member of the family. It seems to me fairly obvious that once children have reached the age of four or five they become adults to all intents and purposes and can take a full role in the family, a full share of the family responsibilities. Now what their share will be depends on any given family, but they have every right and expectation to be treated just like everybody else. That means, on the one hand, they have got to carry their weight and find ways to contribute to doing the family chores, and on the other hand they have got to be given all the consideration that all the other members of the family are given in serious decision making. The part about carrying their weight is not really very difficult to conceive, because in rural families and in other cultures this takes place all the time. It is fairly common that youths age five or six draw the water and feed the animals and milk the cows. There is absolutely no reason why they can’t do normal things about the house; it doesn’t mean they have to be able to do everything. It doesn’t mean they have to be able to cook, for example, – after all, in most families not all the adults can cook. Nobody says that all members of a family have to be interchangeable parts. But it is clear to me that once children have reached the age of judgment, there has to be some way for them to carry their weight. The other side of that coin is something that is harder to conceive in our society – namely, that the same child has to have a full voice in the decision making in the family. That is extremely difficult to carry out in our male-dominated patriarchal society where usually the only person who really makes decisions in the family is the father, and ninety-nine times out of a hundred he doesn’t even consider the opinion of his wife, let alone his children. Even in families where both spouses share decision making, it is very rare to find the children consulted on major decisions. I find this state of affairs to be a complete anachronism and I do not see how it can maintain itself much longer.

Another consequence of this view is that children in principle ought to have the same mobility that the adult members of the family have. We restrict the mobility of children all the time in our society. The idea that children can regulate their time and their mobility like adults is one that we are going to have to learn to accept. I think that the realization that children are full-fledged members of the family is going to come soon after the realization that the woman is a full-fledged member of the family. In this respect, women are going to do a lot of the work for children. The major thing to break is the adult male dominance in the home. To be sure, once you break that, it doesn’t automatically follow that children are going to get a full share, but at least it is going to be a lot easier for other legitimate contenders to stake their claims. I think we will see more and more families in which the adults have equal voices in decision making, and we will see many such families accommodate themselves in giving the children a full voice in family affairs more frequently than families in which the male is supreme.

In a sense this has been an anomalous chapter in a book on childrearing, with the message that from about age four and up you have simply got to treat children as adults and stop treating them as “children.” There should be no distinction between your fundamental attitude toward a family member five years old and toward one thirty five years old.

Books by the Sudbury Valley Press ® are available from bookstore.sudburyvalley.org, by calling (508) 877-3030, or by sending a fax to (508) 788-0674. You may write to the Sudbury Valley School Press ® at The Sudbury Valley School Press, 2 Winch Street, Framingham, MA 01701. You can contact the school here

Permission to freely copy and distribute this document is given, provided that the text is not modified or abridged and this notice is included. For more information about SVS titles available electronically, check this web site periodically.

The Sudbury Valley School ® is a democratic school run by a School Meeting. Students and staff each get one vote on all matters of substance; including the school rules and hiring/firing of staff. The school has no grades, tests, or scores.

Kiran

[Ed. Kiran graduated from HVSS in 2015.]

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

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

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

In Praise of Yu Gi Oh

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Learning to Trust Oneself

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


Books by the Sudbury Valley Press ® are available from bookstore.sudburyvalley.org, by calling (508) 877-3030, or by sending a fax to (508) 788-0674. You may write to the Sudbury Valley School Press ® at The Sudbury Valley School Press, 2 Winch Street, Framingham, MA 01701. You can contact the school here

Permission to freely copy and distribute this document is given, provided that the text is not modified or abridged and this notice is included. For more information about SVS titles available electronically, check this web site periodically.

The Sudbury Valley School ® is a democratic school run by a School Meeting. Students and staff each get one vote on all matters of substance; including the school rules and hiring/firing of staff. The school has no grades, tests, or scores.