College Prep Unschooling

I was sad to see that after the demise of the long-running Home Education Magazine, the publisher chose to take down the entire site, and with it the archive of years of articles that they published. I wrote for HEM for only the last two years, but I loved being able to contribute to an important voice in homeschooling. Since these articles are no longer available online, I am re-publishing mine here on my blog.

When people find out that I homeschool my teenager, their questions tend to fall into predictable groups. What about socialization? and Aren’t you afraid of the gaps in learning? are two of the major ones. These are relatively easy questions to answer: Since when is sitting in a classroom with 32 kids the same age socially appropriate? And as for those gaps, in our house we welcome them and fall into them deliciously when we feel ready!

One of the things my son has been able to apply himself to is his debate club, which travels to conventions.
One of the things my son has been able to apply himself to is his debate club, which travels to conventions. So much for unsocialized homeschoolers!

One question, however, comes from parents of academically focused students and deserves deeper consideration. How can unschoolers who are looking forward to applying to competitive universities adequately prepare themselves? And even more importantly for us parents, how can we make sure that we’re not actually placing a huge handicap on our kids when we decide to homeschool them through high school?

Guiding a student who hopes to study Math at MIT, Political Science at Harvard, or attend Stanford Medical School is a process that requires thinking about how others will view our students’ achievements from the outside—anathema to most homeschoolers who focus on their children’s well-being first and foremost. Although this is still child-led learning—it is our students, after all, who are setting the goal of getting into these universities—it leads to different sorts of decision-making.

Kevin Karplus, whose son applied to top computer science and engineering programs this year, says that his son’s goals required him to apply much more effort into achieving outside his areas of interest.

“Early on, we decided to make sure that he met the admissions criteria for the University of California, which meant taking a few courses that he had little interest in, mainly in the humanities,” Karplus explains.

In the case of Jon Ziegler’s math-focused son, the decision-making process led in a different direction.

“My son has no interest in getting a formal education outside of his passionate interest in math,” Ziegler explains. “That pretty much eliminated all US colleges except for those with flexible curricula like Brown. However, those schools did not have outstanding math departments.”

Ziegler’s son ended up focusing on universities outside of the U.S. which had no general education requirements for application. He is in the process of applying to Cambridge University, where he will be allowed to focus on math exclusively if he chooses to go.

Christine, a mom who has three homeschooling teens, says that to a certain extent it’s possible to make a passionate high schooler’s transcript look more or less ‘conventional’ for the purpose of college admissions committees.

“While they did pursue their own passions, I did make sure that their transcripts reflected what the colleges would look for,” Christine explains. “This was easier than I thought.  At first, their high school years looked lopsided, but by the time they finished, I was able to easily fill in the matrix of what kids are expected to cover in high school.”

Christine elaborates on the process of translating unschooling to a college application by detailing how she found a way to fulfill the University of California’s English requirements. “For the University of California application, two quarters of CC English validated three years of unschooled English activities for one kid. Since we didn’t follow formal English curriculums, I pulled high school English syllabuses from UC approved classes and compared them to the work done each year. At the end of each year, he had read and discussed several good literature books based on his interests that year, check. Researched, attended, and discussed several Shakespeare plays, check. Prepared and given presentations for various technical projects, check. Wrote various summaries, resumes, emails, software documentation, etc., check.”

“Looking back,” Christine admits, “I was always amazed at what was accomplished in comparison to the expectations of the UC approved class.”

This is not to say that homeschooling high school doesn’t have its challenges. One thing I like to say to people about my role unschooling a high schooler who hopes to apply to competitive colleges in computer science is that my role is much less teacher than scheduler, coach, and chauffeur. Christine agrees.

“My kids have had to travel to and from classes, jobs, and activities and juggle a variety of schedules,” she says. “At the high school level, I became more of a facilitator, guiding the process. For some subject areas, I knew they needed more than I could offer and we found outside teachers and mentors. For other areas, we worked through them together, giving each student the time and flexibility to master the material in ways that worked for them. I love this aspect of homeschooling.”

Some of the advantages of unschooling high school can actually be liabilities at the same time. The flexibility, for example, allows our students to delve much more deeply into their areas of passion. It also allows the student—and the parent—to be less mindful of deadlines and less aware of how much can actually be achieved in one day.

“Time management can be tough, as there is more to do than there is time for, and parental deadlines don’t carry the same weight as external ones,” recalls Kevin Karplus.

Karplus also points out that the flexibility isn’t terribly helpful when our students need something we simply can’t provide.

“Finding courses and teachers for things we couldn’t teach ourselves was often difficult,” Karplus admits. “The community college is a great resource, if you can get into the classes.”

Sometimes the problem is availability; for example, community college students who are still officially ‘in high school’ are usually given lower priority for class enrollment than matriculated students. Karplus, who had no trouble working with his son in his own areas of expertise, math and computer science, ended up having to do chemistry labs at home because the community college chemistry class had a wait list.

Other issues that come up can simply be a matter of convenience: For example, in-person classes not offered close enough to home, or online classes offered at inconvenient times. And, of course, there is the ever-present problem of self-motivation—even if the student has committed herself to applying to a competitive college, she might not be willing to put in the effort she needs to in her weaker areas. When no one is forcing you to go to English class in third period—much less threatening to fail you if you don’t get your next paper in on time—it can sometimes be hard to keep up the necessary pace.

But all those drawbacks are clearly outweighed by the benefits of unschooling high school for academically motivated students. The most important issue, for both students and the competitive colleges they are applying to, is that unschooling high school allows students who are advanced in one or more academic subjects the opportunity to distinguish themselves from the pack.

“I was just rereading my son’s college application essays and the internships and projects related to computer science and electronics he was able to pursue were extensive,” recalls Christine. “For my daughter, she hasn’t had to decide between challenging classes, sports, and volunteer work like many of her schooled friends. She was able to organize her own schedule and work efficiently so that she was able to volunteer over 3000 hours during middle and high school for a local animal shelter. Both were able to progress at their own pace, accelerating in some areas and having time to mature in others.”

Freed from the confines of a high school’s offerings, unschooling teens can opt to move into more challenging classes much earlier.

“As a homeschooled student you have the flexibility to take whatever classes you can at local colleges,” says Jon Ziegler. “This can mean exposure to much more advanced material than is usually possible in high school. In his case he’s been informally sitting in on graduate math classes for several years now.”

Kevin Karplus points out that students can also shine in areas apart from their academic pursuits.

“This year he has been doing a lot of acting,” Kevin explains. “This weekend will be his fourth in a row for being on-stage in four different productions. [This] would have been impossible [while] doing a ‘normal’ high-school load.”

In the case of my own student, the thing we treasure most is the time he has to pursue his own projects. For a few years now he has been able to convert personal programming explorations into successful science fair projects, write apps that have brought in actual cash, and join a high-tech start-up with some homeschooling friends. These are all things that we hope will distinguish his application and provide a counterweight to the fact that he simply spends less time on the classes and activities that I remember kids referring to as ‘college suck’—things that would look good on an application.

“In many ways, homeschooling high school has been easier than going to school,” Christine says. “My kids have been able to take classes outside of the traditional pacing. They have been able to interact with a greater variety of teachers and students, and more with the larger community. They have gotten more than just classroom learning through their extensive work and volunteer time and have interacted with adult mentors and had real world experience to help jump career exploration. This is all in addition to more personal time and less stress than we see from schooled kids who are pursuing similar college goals.”

It is both comforting and a bit worrisome that these students will enter university looking quantifiably different than their schooled peers. As parents, we hope that colleges will look at these unusual, lopsided applications and see dedication and creativity rather than worrying about why our children didn’t do the required semester of ‘health.’

“He already has the equivalent of the first two years of a computer engineering degree program,” Kevin Karplus says, “and has done projects comparable in scope and complexity to college senior design projects.”

Christine’s list of the things her children were able to do while unschooling reads like an advertisement for what we hope the admissions committees will notice in our students’ applications.

“Many real world experiences pursuing their passions—internships, jobs, projects for Maker Faire, commercial products, extensive volunteer and leadership opportunities…”

And she is one mom who can point to success when she meets up with naysayers.

“My daughter is heading to Berkeley as a Regent’s Scholar, joining her brother who also is.  Who knows what their younger brother will do.  Each one has such unique needs and paths.”

And that, in a nutshell, is why we unschool.

 

Unschooling to College Resources

Embarrassing moments on the path to reading

I was sad to see that after the demise of the long-running Home Education Magazine, the publisher chose to take down the entire site, and with it the archive of years of articles that they published. I wrote for HEM for only the last two years, but I loved being able to contribute to an important voice in homeschooling. Since these articles are no longer available online, I am re-publishing mine here on my blog.

There is an embarrassing piece of videotape somewhere in my collection of tapes that may never be watched again. I had set up the video recorder on a tripod, turned it on, and sat down on the floor with my son, who was just about to enter kindergarten. I got out my homemade flashcards and spread them on the carpet in front of us.

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Sometimes I wonder whether my pushing phonics actually delayed my son’s reading.

“Cat,” I said, then replaced a letter. “Bat.”

My son was patient. The baby in my arms was less patient.

“Sat,” I said excitedly. “Mat. Look! The cat and the bat sat on the mat!”

My son was patient.

Off to kindergarten he went. We had graduated from the alphabet to sight words. Every time he saw the word “the” he laboriously said, “tuh-HUH!”

“No, buddy, it’s the,” I said, probably less and less patiently.

Then I gave up. His kindergarten was Waldorf-style, with very little reading and writing and a lot of playing in the woods. I knew that was what we wanted, for him to have a rich, fun childhood, but how could a son of mine not be reading already? I didn’t even remember learning to read, it happened so young.

The next year, he got into an experiential learning charter school. I watched as the teacher read stories out loud, introduced a huge project about rainforests, and taught math with manipulatives. My son was having fun, but how was he going to learn to read?

And then, one day he read. He read a chapter book, then another, and then Harry Potter.

After school one day I was chatting with the teacher and I said, “I’m amazed at how much my son has progressed in reading.”

“Oh, reading,” his teacher answered. “We haven’t gotten to that yet.”

But there was a twinkle in her eye.

Both of my children ended up being that sort of child who would mysteriously learn to read, seemingly overnight. I shouldn’t have been surprised, given that I’d been that sort of child. But I believed what school and our larger culture had taught me, that kids need to be “taught” and that the “right” way to learn was through phonics.

I believe that my attempt to introduce my son to phonics actually slowed down his reading, because it taught him that he was reading “the wrong way.” He and his sister both became whole word sight readers, tackling chapter books long before they could sound out a page of The Cat in the Hat.

I see homeschoolers online worrying about which reading program is the right one to use, and I always want to give them advice I myself wouldn’t have listened to: Wait. Watch your child. How does he interact with books? Does she “pretend” to read? Is he the kind of child who learns one bit on top of the next, sequentially, or the kind who seems to learn by osmosis?

Some children will need to learn to read with phonics, but many others will find phonics so difficult (and uninteresting) that it may actually put them off reading. After my experience with my son, I didn’t even try to teach my daughter to read—and she ended up reading much earlier.

A common worry about children learning to read whole words before phonics is that “they won’t know how to sound out new words.” That was true of both of my kids, at first. But then, just as in any other area of learning, they found that they were being held back by something and they decided to fix it. Both of them showed an interest in how words are pronounced well after they were reading long chapter books, and both of them ended up learning to sound out unfamiliar words adequately.

My boy who didn’t learn to read on my schedule is now excelling in community college classes at the age of fifteen. For the vast majority of kids, reading is not something worth worrying about. They will do it, and they will do it well, whether they learn at three or at eight. If there are no other warning signs, a child who isn’t reading yet is probably simply not ready.

If I could rewind that videotape and get another chance, I’d throw out the phonics and go back to what we’d been doing all along: Reading out loud together, talking about words, and pointing out interesting and funny aspects of the English language. My son knew from the beginning how important language and reading was in our family, and I didn’t have to do anything more in order to make him into a lifelong reader.

Calm in the face of chaos, otherwise known as modern parenting

I just got back from a refreshing and fun homeschooling conference. Homeschooling conferences are their own sort of thing: part conference, part costume party, part mass therapy session. This one was no exception.

During the Q&A part of a talk I gave, one of the moms in the audience told me something like “I feel so reassured by how calm you are.”

I was a bit taken aback.

People have said this about me before, and all I can think is that I must be a really great accidental actress. It’s not like I try to put on a persona or try to broadcast something that’s not true, but calm?

Really?

Calm?
My sister gave me a weird, tingly facial mask for my birthday. Calm. I am calm. As long as I can get those crawling bugs washed off my face Right Now, I am calm!
My sister gave me a weird, tingly facial mask for my birthday. Calm. I am calm. As long as I can get those crawling bugs washed off my face Right Now, I am calm!

Like all parents today, I feel like there is way too much coming at me, way too fast. Just a few facts of modern parenting will suffice:

  • We grew up in a world that seemed like it was going to last forever (or at least “billions and billions of years,” said in a Carl Sagan voice). Our kids are living with global warming and homegrown terrorism.
  • We grew up with toys that seemed wonderful and sometimes magical, but we knew how they worked. Our kids play with magic of a very different sort every time they turn on a screen.
  • We grew up in a world where you had a menu to choose from—the TV Guide and the limits of what your town (and the Sears catalogue) had to sell you. Our kids can get everything, nearly everything they can imagine. Instantly, or at least with two-day free shipping.

Our kids don’t just have their own slang for the world we know; they have their own world which didn’t exist when we were kids. The rate of change is fantastic. The rate at which we are acquiring knowledge about ourselves and the natural world seems boundless.

My parents had Dr. Spock to turn to for advice. We’ve got Drs. Galore—not just MDs but PhDs, LMFTs, PsyDs, and PhGs (Philosophers of Google, that is). Everyone is telling us that whatever we’re doing is wrong, and they’ve got all the answers.

Our kids are being diagnosed with disorders that didn’t exist when we were kids. We just used to have weird kids. Now we’ve got Asperger’s replaced with Autistic, Sensory Processing Disorder, Oppositional Defiant Disorder, Attention-Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, Bipolar Disorder…

We’ve got more disorders than we’ve got orders.

We’ve got public schools, private schools, charter schools, magnet schools, schools of choice, and homeschooling.

Heck, when I was a kid, you just went to school.

And if you’re homeschooling, you’ve got Christian homeschooling, secular homeschooling, eclectic homeschooling, classical homeschooling, unit studies homeschooling, not to mention outschooling and hybrid schooling.

Calm? Am I calm yet?

We parents have too much choice. We have too much input. We have too many people telling us to do too many things. We are both supposed to sign our kids up for Kumon and let them play in the mud. We are both supposed to inspire our kids and teach them to toe the line. We are both supposed to give them strong self-esteem and not praise them too much.

It’s a lot. It’s a very large lot in which we are playing at parenting, never sure we are doing the right thing.

I keep coming back to the word “calm.” If I appear calm, it’s not a charade. It’s not me trying to reassure you that it will be OK.

Calm is just me in the midst of the chaos we call modern life. I know that there’s very little I can do outside of that little space I operate within, so I just do what I can. If I can help one other parent feel self-assured enough to be a slightly better parent, I guess I’ve done my job in the world. If I send my kids out into the chaos with a few tools to use for their survival, even better.

I am calm, because what’s the point of adding to the chaos? We have no idea where this world is going, so we might as well enjoy what we have around us and try to spread a little bit of goodness out from our tiny space.

Calm. I am calm.

The Value of Competition

I was sad to see that after the demise of the long-running Home Education Magazine, the publisher chose to take down the entire site, and with it the archive of years of articles that they published. I wrote for HEM for only the last two years, but I loved being able to contribute to an important voice in homeschooling. Since these articles are no longer available online, I am re-publishing mine here on my blog.

When I first became a homeschooler, I was surprised by the number of parents I met who were against allowing children to compete in any way. Activities in our public homeschool program were designed as “everyone wins” events. We hardly saw any homeschoolers at our county science fair, despite the fact that it was very welcoming to our kids. Parents were always on the lookout for cooperative games so that their children wouldn’t have to compete with each other.

Other homeschooling families I know also love to enter the science fair.
Other homeschooling families I know also love to enter the science fair.

The rare competitive homeschooler seems to be the exception: often they are homeschoolers specifically because their achievements leave little time for school. A high-level competitive gymnast seems more common amongst homeschoolers than a child who just likes the challenge of competition at any level.

In our family, however, we have an instinctive enthusiasm for competitions. It isn’t that our kids are generally high-achievers; in fact, they don’t necessarily place in competitions they enter. But we all feel the excitement and fulfillment of identifying a target, working toward it, and seeing our work alongside others who share our interests.

Science mania!

The science fair is a good example of a competitive event my children love. It is a huge payoff for project-based learning. Whereas other projects might gather dust on a shelf or become presents for Grandma, the science fair moves from independent exploration, to documenting the work, to sharing with fellow young scientists, and on to speaking with (and hopefully receiving awards from) judges.

My kids enter almost every year; they often win awards, but not always. The big payoff for them, however, is the experience as a whole. As an unschooler, I’ve become a sort of pied piper for the science fair. The first year my child entered, she was the only student in our public homeschool program who was interested. Over the years, I gushed enough about it that we’ve seen a bigger participation level, but nowhere near what I would expect for a well-managed, free, and inspiring educational event.

Shunning competition

So what’s up with avoiding competition? It turns out it’s not just homeschoolers. In “Losing is Good for You,” Ashley Merryman (New York Times) explores the phenomenon of parents shunning competition. She cites sports leagues in which all the children receive trophies, regardless of participation or performance.

“By age 4 or 5, children aren’t fooled by all the trophies,” Merryman writes. “They are surprisingly accurate in identifying who excels and who struggles. Those who are outperformed know it and give up, while those who do well feel cheated when they aren’t recognized for their accomplishments. They, too, may give up.”

When adults deny obvious differences between children, they send a confusing message. On the one hand, it’s a message of conformance: Don’t try to be different because even if we know you are, we’re going to pretend you’re not. On the other hand, it’s a message about the futility of working hard: Don’t try to improve because Johnny who didn’t even bother to come to practice is going to get the same reward as you.

Starting with the self-esteem movement in the late 1970’s, Americans altered how praise—both verbal and token-based—is given out. We wanted kids to feel good about themselves, so we started to say “good job” when our parents might have said “how could you miss such an easy pitch?” We wanted to celebrate kids who had been traditionally at the bottom, so we phased out games that would point out physical differences, competitions that would point out intellectual differences, and pretty much any situation in which a child might get the message, “you’re a loser.”

Growth mindset

The work of psychologist Carol Dweck has made waves across education in the United States, but when it came out, lots of parents and teachers looked at it and felt like they ought to say, “Well, duh!” It turns out that you can empirically prove that all this mindless cheerleading is bad for kids’ self-esteem. In a very simply designed experiment, Dweck asked kids to solve math puzzles. To half of the kids, the researchers said, “You are so smart!” To the other half, they said, “You worked so hard on that!”

Not surprisingly, the “so smart” kids suddenly had something to protect. They were so smart, and they’d better not let on when they had trouble with something. The “so smart” kids went on to perform miserably on a slightly harder task, whereas the “hard working” kids were pumped up by the researchers’ enthusiasm for their hard work, and they worked even harder and achieved more.

It’s true: in competitions, a few kids win and lots of kids lose. The thing is, in well-run competitions any kid who has a solid foundation of self-respect is not going to be fooled. When my kids and I look at the winners in a competition, we discuss whether we think the judging was fair. More often than not, my kids admit that the winners simply put in more work, had a more original idea, and did a better job of explaining what they did.

Competing for satisfaction

We love Santa Cruz Soccer, which emphasizes cooperation in competition.
We love Santa Cruz Soccer, which emphasizes cooperation in competition.

Recently I read an article about cultivating intrinsic motivation that was making the rounds amongst teachers. I noticed that the author pointed out the value of fair competition.

“Intrinsic motivation can be increased in situations where students gain satisfaction from helping their peers and also in cases where they are able to compare their own performance favorably to that of others,” writes teacher Saga Briggs.

She says “favorably,” but I would broaden that: I think that my kids gain satisfaction just from seeing where they lie in the continuum of human achievement. My daughter still plays soccer, even though she’s never been MVP. She celebrates the achievements of the great hitters on her softball team, pointing out how much they practice. My son sometimes declines to enter a competition that he judges himself unprepared for. It’s not that he has poor self-esteem—it’s that showing his work alongside the work of others who share his passions has given him a good perspective. He knows how hard he’s going to have to work to compete, and when he honestly isn’t willing to do the work, he would rather sit on the sidelines and cheer people who were.

Of course, a child who doesn’t enjoy competition shouldn’t be pushed into it. But by the same token, denying children the right to stand up and proudly declare their achievements does not bolster their self-esteem. Our kids are just as smart as we are….if not smarter. They know when people are putting them on, so if we continue the charade that kids’ achievements are all the same, we’re not doing them any favors. Yes, it’s great to celebrate all children’s abilities, but avoiding competition puts our children into a manufactured world where hard work is not acknowledged and their achievements are just another thing to gather dust up on a high shelf.

References:

Losing is Good for You” by Ashley Merryman

25 Ways to Cultivate Intrinsic Motivation” by Saga Briggs

Goal-setting full circle

In homeschooling and writing, things have a way of intertwining themselves without any sort of prior intent. Here are two topics that I’ve written about before:

Topic #1: learning about goal-setting is of particular importance to teenage homeschoolers. [Read more here.]

Topic #2: Homeschooling changes the adults who do it as much as the kids. [Here, here, here… heck, just read all my posts about homeschooling and you’ll see it’s a theme!]

This summer: The melding of two of my favorite topics.

I decided [why, oh why do I decide these things?] that first of all, I was going to write a book on goal-setting explicitly for homeschooling teens.

Secondly, I decided that I would offer an online class in the fall based on the book. [Read about it here.]

GSLogo

So, what did I inadvertently do? I set myself a goal, and then forced myself to be accountable for it. Paying students are already listed in my classroom, expecting to get their copy of my “book” in October.

I actually do know why I do these things to myself: When I was young, I thought that people “just did” things and how their work got out into the world was a mysterious process that hopefully I’d be swept into at some point.

I am spending more time on music, less time on trying to help every wayward organization function more efficiently.
I am spending more time on music, less time on trying to help every wayward organization function more efficiently.

In other words, I had never noticed that people who get things done actually set goals, figure out the steps to get there, and make themselves accountable in some way for reaching those steps and, hopefully, the final goal. This is not something I’d ever done, not as a child, a teen, a young adult, or even a mother of small children. I apparently thought that whatever life threw at me was what I would get.

But homeschooling (and parenting in general) has a way of getting you to look at yourself and notice things you hadn’t bothered to think about before.

Why didn’t I set goals? Why didn’t I make myself accountable for them? What was stopping me?

I’m not going to psychoanalyze myself (fear of failure? low self-esteem? the alignment of the planets?), but I have noticed a change since I’ve been forced to look more carefully at how I’m raising my children. I’ve started to look at the things I’m doing with a little more of a critical eye. It was a huge step for me just to go through a series of simple questions:

  • Is this activity fulfilling for me?
  • Is it taking up time that I should be using for something else?
  • Is it leading me in any particular direction, or am I just spinning my wheels?
  • Do I have any particular goal here?

Thinking like this got me to making a few changes in my life. I self-published my chapter book, Hanna, Homeschooler, knowing that it wasn’t really suited to a mainstream publisher, anyway. I am spending more time on music and less on trying (futilely) to help every organization I come into contact with work more efficiently.

Full circle

Writing this book on goal-setting is sending me full circle back to what I think is most important about goal-setting: being self-reflective, focusing our attention on what matters, and realizing that “success” is all about feeling like we’ve done our best, and not at all about being declared “successful” by someone else.

I still spend plenty of time on non-goal-oriented activities (never discount the value of a glass of wine with family or friends in helping you reach your goals!), but I feel more focused, less like I’m putting out fires and more like I’m setting fires for myself!

Now available