PathfrontLR.jpg
20680.jpg
20682.jpg

For Richard,
fellow traveller and best friend

Acknowledgements

I would like to thank my mother, Lorita, my father, Lee, and my stepmother, Pegeen, for their help with fine-tuning my manuscript and for all their support and encouragement over the years. They have modeled for me how to live with integrity, kindness and courage. I feel incredibly blessed to have them in my life. I am grateful too for the wonderful Vancouver Homelearners’ Association that I was part of in the early years of our unschooling journey, and for the homelearning friends I have met in Victoria. If it weren’t for the support of these brave and inspiring companions, I would have found it hard to persist in taking the road less travelled. Thanks, too, to Jo Blackmore and her crew at Granville Island Publishing for their many helpful suggestions, and for their expertise.

I cannot adequately express my gratitude to my family. My three daughters have been my “spirit guides.” Their playfulness, curiosity and passion continually inspire me to engage more fully with my own life. They each took time from their busy lives to write articles for this book, at my request. Richard, my best friend for over thirty years, has walked every twist and turn of the road alongside me, sharing each challenge and each new discovery on the way. He has believed in this book even when I wanted to abandon the project, read countless drafts as I developed it and also contributed an essay to the manuscript. His optimism and good humour have been the best support of all.

Thank you, Life, for these gifts.

Contents

Acknowledgements

Foreword

Preface

Introduction | The Way of Radical Respect

Chapter One | Beginnings

Chapter Two | Questioning the Paradigm

Chapter Three | The Paradigm Shifts

Chapter Four | The Language of Power

Chapter Five | Finding the Jewel

Insert 1 | Finding the Inner Voice

Chapter Six | Curriculum: See How They Run!

Chapter Seven | Play

Chapter Eight | The Three Rs

Insert 2 | Designing a Life Worth Living

Chapter Nine | The Socialization Question

Chapter Ten | Our Year in Sports

Chapter Eleven | Journaling: A Tool for Self-Discovery

Chapter Twelve | Ordinary Genius

Chapter Thirteen | Fallow Times

Insert 3 | The Unhurried Mind

Chapter Fourteen | Siblings

Chapter Fifteen | Sexuality and Other Awakenings

Chapter Sixteen | Sharing the Journey

Chapter Seventeen | Holding Until Relaxed

Insert 4 | Art as Magic

Chapter Eighteen | Conscious Leadership

Chapter Nineteen | The Emptying Nest

Afterword | Some Abiding Questions

Photographs

Notes

Index

About the Author

Foreword

When I was a young mother in the early 1970s, I was determined to raise our two daughters with the respect and trust that I hadn’t received as a child. I didn’t know exactly what that would look like, but we began by breastfeeding, which seemed obvious to me but not to my mother or our doctor. We co-slept, and my husband and I carried our babies everywhere. Even before they were born, we had agreed that our children would be able to avoid the regimentation, coercion, distrust and creativity-stifling monotony that were part of compulsory schooling; we knew their intrinsic motivation and curiosity, along with the richness of everyday life, would propel them to learn whatever they needed. And soon, our trust in their developing ability to self-manage was being extended into other aspects of life, such as bedtimes, clothing, friendships and food. Our lifestyle was unusual in those days, and we were largely without support or information, with few models or even books to guide us.

Some aspects of that life were more public, and more controversial, than others. Learning without school certainly fell into that category. Soon, I found myself educating the educators about homeschooling’s legality — defending, advocating and, ultimately, organizing. I used the platform of Natural Life Magazine, which our family had begun as a way of supporting ourselves and our home-based learning lifestyle, to launch a national homeschooling alliance in 1979. I prodded others to start more local support groups, conducted some research, spoke with the media and wrote a book.

I thought that elements of our lifestyle would become common in a decade or two. I assumed that I would be able to stop talking and writing about the need to make conscious choices about more respectful parenting, education reform, environmental stewardship, and the like. However, just the opposite seems to have happened. Although those of us who care about such things aren’t as lonely as we were forty years ago, mainstream attitudes still make those ideas seem radical.

“Radical” is a word that I didn’t used to like. It conjured up images of rebellion and revolution, which I thought would scare people away from exploring some of the choices I think we need to make if our families, communities and planet are to flourish (to survive, even). But now I realize that we need a paradigm shake-up of that scale. So I share with my readers that the word “radical” comes from the Latin word radicalis, which means having roots; the botanical term “radical leaves” refers to leaves that arise from the root or crown of the plant. So “radical” simply means examining the roots of an issue. And a radical solution to a problem is one that arises from that examination, addressing the root cause, rather than more superficial symptoms.

And that’s what this book does, whether we are thinking about the problems we experience in education, in parenthood or in other aspects of living on this earth. Lael Whitehead — with her relentless questioning, her strong belief in children and in life, her brave mind and open heart — has written a testament to how respecting children can lead to a radical and restorative change in how we live, one that is kinder, gentler, more thoughtful and more life-affirming.

We need this inspiration, perhaps more now than ever. We need the thoughtful companionship found here to help us along the path of learning and living as if school doesn’t exist. We need the reassurance and confidence that come from reading stories like this. There are many lessons to be learned from this family that lived with children in respect and dignity, protecting and nurturing their individual natures (and from the self-described “mistakes” they made along the way). And we can be grateful for the stories about the thriving, happy young people — the “ordinary geniuses” — those children grew up to be.

Wendy Priesnitz, Toronto, Canada, 2013

Wendy Priesnitz is the editor of Life Learning Magazine. She is also the author of School Free, Challenging Assumptions in Education and Beyond School: Living As If School Doesn’t Exist.

Preface

Nothing you become will disappoint me. I have no preconception that I’d like to see you be or do. I have no desire to foresee you, only to discover you. 1

Mary Haskell, in a letter to Kahlil Gibran

When I first decided to write this book, I thought it would be about “education.” I figured my job was simply to describe how my three children grew up and became skillful, adept human beings without formal schooling. But I have come to realize that education is not the central issue. The issue is love. Talking about learning without talking about love is like trying to construct a building without starting on the ground floor. Relationships are our starting place, the soil we grow in. The emotional environment children encounter in their early years becomes the foundation for their future lives; whether they become curious, creative and compassionate adults, who care about others and about the planet they live on, hinges on how they were treated from the beginning.

“To school or not to school” is not the real question. Instead, I want to ask in this book, “How can we become more loving?” In particular, how can we love our children so that they will blossom to their full human potential? Children are born eager for life. They arrive open and curious, ready to taste, touch and explore everything they encounter. How can we, as parents and mentors, protect this tender openness? How can we relate to our children in a way that enhances and enriches life for us all?

I believe that children — and all people for that matter — thrive when they are seen without judgment, when they are accepted as they are. Fear of judgment creates anxiety and tension. Frightened people contract and withdraw, seeking to avoid hurt. They shut down rather than open up to life. In contrast, loving acceptance — or what I will later call “radical respect” — creates an atmosphere of emotional safety. When we feel safe we flourish, both emotionally and intellectually; we reach out, we experiment and take risks, we explore and learn. Learning and love turn out to be two sides of the same coin.

Although I have titled this book A Path of Their Own, I believe passionately that we need each other’s support and companionship in order to thrive. We are each unique. Each child is born with her or his own set of characteristics and inclinations and curiosities. But each child grows up in a social environment that shapes these innate traits. Children are either helped to find their own wonderful route into the heart of life, or thwarted at every turn by the world that greets them.

We desperately need to redesign our communities so that they become places that foster loving relationships. I believe our very survival may be at stake. Not only our ability to flourish as human beings, but the health of the planet as a whole, depends on our ability to love. We will become good guardians of the earth only when we have cultivated our capacity for respect. The way we treat one another is how we treat all life. Our human interdependence is just a small mirror of the interdependence of all creatures on our planet. For better or for worse, we are all in this together.

Introduction

The Way of Radical Respect

Those who think to win the world
By doing something to it,
I see them come to grief.
For the world is a sacred object.
Nothing is to be done to it.
To do anything to it is to damage it.
To seize it is to lose it. 2

Lao Tsu

I am sitting by the window of my upstairs study, looking out over the sheep fields towards the bay. The house around me is empty and quiet. The children, who once filled the rooms and hallways with their chatter, their running footsteps, their bickering, their delighted play, have all grown up. If I squint just a little, I almost glimpse a small girl running downhill across the grass away from me. Her long fair hair flies out behind her. Her feet lift high into the air with each springing step. She is so eager to run, so keen to explore what is far away out of sight in the trees. Who is it? Lauren? Marlise? Julia? But the girlish ghost is gone and the winter field returns to stillness.

My three grown daughters have asked me to write this book. They have urged me to put my ideas on paper, and have given me permission to tell their stories. Lauren, who is now pregnant with her first child, wants to be able to give this book to some of her friends who have children. She lives in an alternative community, where young families are committed to living sustainably, to growing and eating organic food, and to using up less of the world’s resources. However, Lauren is often shocked to see how easily her friends fall back into age-old habits of domination and coercion when it comes to raising their children. They give “time-outs” and rewards in order to enforce compliant behaviour, without thinking about the world they are modeling for their kids. She believes that there is little hope for our planet unless human beings can learn to treat one another differently.

At first I hesitated to write a book. I believe passionately in the maxim “live and let live” and I do not want to give advice or meddle in others’ lives. I believe that each life journey yields its gifts and its lessons. There is no right or universal path. But I have also come to believe that each voice is part of an ongoing human conversation, a shared exploration of how to live well. We need to speak out about what matters and to share our discoveries. We learn by listening to one another.

So, with a desire to share what I have learned during my twenty-seven years of mothering, I have re-read my old journals, opened dusty albums of photographs and children’s artwork, and tried to retrace my journey. Since I have always been the kind of person who doesn’t look back, this has been a strange process. Reviewing the journals I wrote during the many years my children learned at home and out in the world rather than inside schools has been a bit like putting on a favourite old dress, unworn for years. I have had to revisit the challenges, the hopes and the fears our family faced over two decades ago, when we decided to choose the road less travelled. The intense anxiety I felt in the early days — the fear of being different, the worry that I was making a big mistake — seems very far away now. Life has moved on. My daughters are now making their way in the world with grace and power. Although I remain deeply connected with my children, I no longer identify very much with the role of “mother.” Instead I am pursuing my own creative path, often inspired by my daughters’ example. Looking back has reminded me that I would not be who I am today if it weren’t for the road I have travelled.

One of the early working titles for this book was “Of Love and Learning: a memoir of raising children with radical respect.” Relationships, I have come to believe, matter profoundly. In fact, whether or not children grow up to be adults capable of creativity and resilience has far more to do with the quality of their early emotional connections than with any specialized training they receive during childhood. Everything in life flows from how we see, and are seen by, each other.

What kinds of relationships help children flourish? Most people would agree that a child needs to be loved in order to be able both to love herself and the world. Most of us sense that the capacity to love is a prerequisite for blossoming to one’s full potential, whether intellectual, artistic or social. But the word “love” can mean many things. Possessiveness, control, manipulation and intimidation have all passed for love at one time or another. Domineering parents, for instance, often consider their brutal tactics “loving” because they are convinced they are acting for the good of the child. But to qualify as the genuine article, love, for me, must be rooted in respect. Respect is what makes love a vehicle of connection, rather than of possession or control. The word “respect” derives from the Latin word respicere, meaning to “look at, to behold.” To respect another is to behold them, to see them truly. I have added the word “radical” to define the kind of deep respect that is the basis of love, because “radical” derives from the Latin word for “root” and implies a quality that goes to the root of things. To radically respect another is to see, deeply and fully, the reality of his or her being. It is an act of profound awareness, of acknowledging what is. It is a beholding beyond any desire to influence or change.

Raising children capable of radically respecting themselves, others, and all other forms of life on the earth around them, requires treating them with such respect from the beginning. This book is a memoir of my own struggle to become radically respectful of my children. I have made many mistakes along the way. I have lost sight of them at times; swept up in my own fears or desires, I have tried to control their behaviour or influence their decisions. But whenever I have come back to the simple and profound act of seeing them as they are, I have been reminded how sweet love feels, both for the giver and the receiver. Such loving heals us and makes us braver and stronger. It makes life worth the effort of living.

Chapter One

Beginnings

I will not follow where the path may lead, but I will go where there is no path, and I will leave a trail. 3

Muriel Strode