I have spent the last 14 years observing what I think of as "children in the wild." These are children, my own and others, who do not attend conventional schools and generally do not attend any kind of school environment at all.
By age 7 or 8 most children must adapt to conventional schooling methods, which tell them what is worth learning and what is not. Children are explicitly taught that some things:
reading assigned passages, sometimes out loud
rote memorization
filling out worksheets on time and as expected
standing in lines
raising one’s hand
are more valuable than others things:
drawing
practicing a handstand
building LEGO
reading for pleasure
puzzling out a video game
practicing ollies on a skateboard
training a dog.
Photo by Daniel K Cheung on Unsplash. (Image is a series of unconventional LEGO people in costume marching across an intersection)
For some children, that first list of “schoolish” things comes easily, at least in terms of the academic skills (resistance to coercion, on the other hand, is a natural human tendency - it takes oppressive effort to get children to be compliant1). These kids may even be labeled “gifted.” They find it easy to complete the work, which they are told is the natural way of childhood. They are likely to disregard the inherent value of the second list of things, even if they are naturally drawn to them - in school, everyone knows that being in the advanced reading group is more important that being the best Minecraft builder.
But here’s the fascinating thing about observing Children in the Wild. They don’t believe that being an “advanced” reader is inherently better than being an “advanced” Minecraft builder. In fact, there’s much less concept of children being “advanced” at all.
Without age segregated groupings, kids are much less focused on ranking and comparison.
There’s just children doing different things at different times.
Children who love to read will read. Children who love to build will build. Children who love reading or stories may be drawn to other children who love to read. Builders likewise may be drawn together.
Just like adults, young people with common interests come together to share their interests.
But they also connect over the things they are doing, which are generally all kinds of different ways to play.
In my many years of facilitating a weekly Forest Kids group, as well as other weekly play-focused and child-centered events, I watched how children play freely in mixed age settings. In the woods, they didn’t necessarily know which kids were reading chapter books and which kids weren’t yet reading at all. Nor did they care.
They did know who would join a game of tag, who climbed highest in the trees, who liked to carve tokens with messages and initials, and who was probably off building a fort.
(Image of two of the author’s children walking through a path in the woods)
There was often one group of children setting up elaborate trading games, with the currency changing based on what was available from the woods that week (things like mud balls, rocks, carved bits of wood, and milkweed pods).
Another group of kids roved the woods with sticks, finding things to poke and climb.
The parents sat together in one wooded spot on blankets, with snacks, waters, and extra supplies for a long day outside. Some children (the under 5s) would play in stick forts nearby. Sometimes a young person might lay on a blanket and draw, read, or whittle.
None of the things the kids chose to do was seen as inherently better or worse. No one was considered more or less intelligent. There were kids who got along well, and kids who didn’t, and lots of space for them all to spread out.
But that was the woods, so what about in more academic pursuits?
It wasn’t all that much different to be honest. We’ve done lots of things related to traditional school subjects over the years, by request - book clubs, math club, Minecraft meetups, board game day, art group. They were all homeschooly versions, which meant mixed-age and consensual. The kids were choosing to be there. The activities were almost always hands-on and engaging, designed by homeschooling and unschooling parents who were aiming for joy instead of rigor.
Our weekly science club has been our most formal academic activity, using the multidisciplinary curriculum Building Foundations of Scientific Understanding. We completed six years of science with our first co-op, during the go-round for my oldest, and are on year three of doing it all over with a new group for my middlest. Again, lots of invitation, without requirement. No worksheets. Mixed ages and abilities, with each child participating at the level they choose to.
My youngest (7) doesn’t attend the lessons at all, despite having friends the same age who do. So far, he’s not a formal lessons kind of guy. But he’ll join us for good snacks or when there’s a party involved. (As a side note, though I waxed nostalgic about our delightful days in the woods, he also isn’t much of a naturalist - I’ll write another day about how his version of a “good childhood” and mine have repeatedly clashed, and how I have had to revise and revise again many of my ideas on things like time outside, what friendship looks like, screens, food, allowance… just about everything).
In our co-ops, some children read and write independently, while others do not yet. Some asked for notebooks and will write things down. Some don’t. As the adult facilitators, we expect that they will all take away different things and at different times. There are no tests or grading. Each child participates in different ways.
It works in part because our group is small, usually 8 kids with 4 adults, so there are plenty of adults to help when needed (I recognize this isn’t scalable or accessible for everyone, which is a topic for another post).
But primarily it works because we trust the children. We trust the process. It’s not always easy to do. There are no guarantees with any kind of educational environment. But I have watched unschooled children grow into teenagers and young adults who are curious and well-informed about the world, able to pursue the things they want to do, which is my definition of success. There’s even research2 about it!
That’s enough for me to hold onto my trust in the kids, in their inherent wisdom about how to move through their lives, even when it’s hard.
Resistance to coercion is a natural human tendency. Standardizing children, and creating a factory workforce, was the impetus for the creation of modern schooling. You can read more about it in John Taylor Gatto’s classic, An Underground History of American Education.
The Alliance for Self-Directed Education has a comprehensive Resource Directory with a wide range of different ways to explore ideas of self-directed education and consensual learning.
What a lovely read!