Põld Learning for Real

An Unschooling Diary
1. Auflage 2025
ISBN: 978-9916-4-3155-9
Verlag: PublishDrive
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: 0 - No protection

E-Book, Englisch, 264 Seiten

A unique research project only a parent can conduct!

Very honest real-time diary of a family who stepped completely outside the school system to observe what children naturally do when they are free to learn through life itself. Over three months the author documented her three children's genuine impulses to play, create, explore, read, ask questions, build, imagine and rest - without schedules, pressure or classroom constraints.

What unfolds is a rare inside view of childhood curiosity, the true nature of learning. This is a manifesto, one family's unfiltered, personal evidence: children thrive when given time, freedom, love and sleep.

A compelling read for anyone interested in deschooling, unschooling, child-led education or the hidden life of families when school is no longer in the way.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Põld, Kiti

Leseproben

WEEK TWO

Monday, 9 March

In the morning there is a letter from Vihur’s teacher. It’s the start of Estonian Language Week, and that means there will be all kinds of activities. Among them is a book exchange between students and the opportunity to introduce their favorite books to the class. I tell Vihur about it and suggest that if he is interested, I will arrange for him to take part, for example, to go to the class’s Favorite Book Day. Vihur is not particularly interested. He does think for a moment about which book he would introduce. I suggest the Amulet series, which he has been reading a lot lately. “Yeah!” he thinks. But then he says that he would go to the main lesson, but not to the subject lessons. So the topic is closed. He still doesn’t want to go.  

To explain: the main lesson is the first morning lesson in Waldorf schools, which is double the length of a specialized subject lesson and in which the class teacher teaches the main subjects of the Waldorf curriculum, including the Estonian language, mathematics, and form drawing, in the order of blocks, i.e., at intervals of a few weeks. Form drawing is an interesting subject in itself, which progresses through the years and becomes increasingly complex. Its starting point is a straight line and a curve. Everything visible to the eye in this world is either a straight line or a curve. From this, shapes begin to form, which become more complex, twist, mix and intertwine and are reflected. Looking at the large chalk-paper notebooks of form drawing in Waldorf schools can be a perceptual experience in itself. In a pedagogical sense, its goal is to cultivate form also internally, spiritually and intentionally. Why not?

At 12 o’clock, I’m at the theater with the children. It’s a visiting performance. And it’s bad theater. I’m glad that we always agree on general assessments and the children can also point out what was suspicious or wrong. Today we’re analyzing the beginning of the production. It started with a slow song. And everyone was immediately bored! That’s what they said and I knew it in advance. What kind of director starts a children’s production in a large hall with a ballad? I’m so sad that Estonian director training doesn’t seem to pay any attention to tempos, the fine art of alternating scenes with different energies. Watching Hollywood movies with my children, I’ve clearly started to prefer this visibly skillful, almost scientific and apparently its own solid theory-based art of storytelling. Tempos are terribly important. In life in general. We talk more about that on the way home.

After the performance, Piibe notices her class teacher in the theater’s cloakroom and rushes to hug her. The teacher is dressing her own little daughters. My heart contracts with tenderness and pain – it’s such a beautiful and sincere meeting, such a warm hug! This person has impressed me with her personality too. I don’t know what will become of their good relationship, that is, the teacher and Piibe. How can we make sense of the fact that we don’t actually need relationships with teachers? Or from what angle should we look at school relationships now? We don’t know whether we will return to everyday school life or which one of us will return.

Now we’re busy: Piibe’s art school class is about to start, and the others’ music school. At the door of the art school, I stop to chat with Piibe’s ceramics teacher. When I repeat to Piibe that after class we have to go straight around the corner to the music school harp class and then to the violin class, the teacher wonders about our busy schedule. I almost start to apologize that today is an exception, because the harp teacher has classes at different times due to her own schedule. Afterwards, I wonder why I felt guilty and started to justify our lives. So why shouldn’t an almost 8-year-old take these classes in a row. Four classes in total, but why not? If she’s interested? Although, yes, her interest in playing an instrument fluctuates. But she still stays on the positive side.

After taking the kids to school, I go to a meeting: a regular progress discussion with Vihur’s teacher. It’s very paradoxical that this is happening right now, a week after we’ve started homeschooling, and for the teacher it’s the second progress discussion in her life. After the progress discussion, Peedu and I have very mixed feelings. And this state of affairs will last at least until late at night, when I’m writing this now.

Upon returning home, we waver between confidence, mild anger, regret and just trying to understand. There was a lot of talk about Vihur’s behavior, character traits, and attitude at home and at school. The teacher didn’t directly blame us for anything, but she suggested that Vihur could behave more in school as he does at home. So that Vihur wouldn’t come with his usual mask, his sense of superiority and other things that upset the class and cause confusion. I’m left thinking that if Vihur seems to be more balanced even from a distance for the teacher in his home life, then home life must be the right thing for him? So why doesn’t she seem to favor it? Staying homeschooled, I mean. On the positive side, the teacher surprised us by saying that Vihur has leadership qualities and a kind of “spark” that can influence his peers.

The teacher states that the teachers found at their regular meeting that there can be no homeschooling in a Waldorf school, because Waldorf education can only be provided by a trained teacher in a school environment, and the teaching is partly based on the composition of the class, that is, on the interaction of different energy types. I completely understand that. That’s right. So we started homeschooling with the knowledge that there can be no homeschooling in a Waldorf school, but we are doing it. We’re the first in this school.

Coming back from the conversation, we meet the school’s social worker, who exclaims emotionally: “I was just in the third grade class the other day and watched your Vihur. He’s a really nice social child! Send him to school anyway!” I reply: “Yes, but I won’t allow it.” JOKE! I add: “If school started around 10, it would be completely conceivable.” “But then start a discussion!” “We started it four years ago!” Peedu takes over the conversation and explains to the new member of the association that I really did call on the whole school to start the school day later. And what it has all come to ...

At home, we talk to the children. Would it be a shame if they didn’t go to school at all? Do they have special feelings about their class, their school building? It doesn’t seem to be so, particularly ... But about their home, Pihla said just today that we can’t move out of this house, we made it ourselves! We talked about the large wall mosaic, which I used a lot of willpower to finish. I did it against my will, I did it with all my might. And it wasn’t pleasant at all. We talk to the children about whether and how we can always have a pleasant and inspiring home life. That’s our goal.

Reflecting on the day with Peedu, we can say that the school wants to limit us, or at least it feels that way. There are also people close to us who give hints and limit us in their own way. And, as a counterbalance, we immediately remember the music school, where our children each learn more on their own than the rules would actually allow. For example, Vihur has a piano as an additional instrument, but somehow the euphonium emerged as a second additional instrument – the charisma of Bert, the wind instrument teacher, simply draws us in! Or Pihla: her main instrument is the violin and her additional instrument is also the piano, but she is learning the harp as well ... as a second additional instrument. And Piibe has had two main instruments since the beginning: the harp and the violin. Our first preference was the harp, but since it is large and cannot be taken home to practice, the opportunity to learn the violin was also offered, so that she would develop the habit of practicing at home. Next school year, I definitely want her to start learning the piano as well. So: everyone has clearly more than the norm for additional instruments. Hopefully, no one from the town government will ever read this here. Yep, we are music school crazy!

It’s important to support children’s music education. There are too many of these stories about dropouts in this town ... including my own. I had two years of piano lessons with a private teacher who taught me how to play etudes. But I wanted to play the REAL piano. What was really important was how to play songs, real songs! That is, how to accompany yourself on the piano, to play as a background for someone singing. I studied and practiced on my own and got somewhere, but that wasn’t enough. I took the first-year songbook, learned the chords, and played “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” with childish accompaniment chords to the major 7 chords of Raimond Valgre songs. Valgre (1913–1949) was a legendary Estonian composer. I was diligent, consistent, enthusiastic. But I still stopped halfway. Without falling into the victim’s position, I simply think that this process would have needed more support through difficult times. The more difficult times come in the third or fourth year of instrument learning. The child must be helped through this. There are certainly other theories and possibilities, but in our culture, music education is like that. And, well, as a teenager, the same thing happened to me with the guitar. So I can’t play an instrument. Although I had...