So I promised I’d be back with a post about my inner turmoil– The epic battle between Charlotte Mason and John Holt (aka Unschooling) that is currently being waged in my psyche.
Why?
Who knows. Maybe in writing out my thoughts I might actually help someone. Maybe there is someone else out there that struggles to find a balance between planning and letting go. That sees the similarities between “setting their feet in a wide room” and “strewing,” yet also readily acknowledges the differences.
Actually what I’m secretly hoping is that by writing out my thoughts they will somehow magically become a little clearer—to me.
The way I see it, the two philosophies have a lot in common, so we will start there. Charlotte Mason and Unschooling both stress the parent/teacher’s role should be as guide/mentor, not fount-of-all-knowledge. They both emphasize that we not get between the child and the ideas by pre-digesting them for the child. They both value letting the child make his/her own connections to the great ideas just waiting out there to be discovered instead of just jumping in and pointing out all of the connections for them. Both philosophies value relationship, discussion, and respect between parent/teacher and child, most especially in the idea that a child is a born person, deserving of respect, not just for who (s)he will become, but for who (s)he already is.
I like all of those things.
And that’s quite a bit in common, right?
There are, of course, major differences. The main ones being that CM had a planned curriculum, assignments, lessons (though short) and tests, while unschooling tends to look down on such things, letting the child take the lead, and never “requiring” but only “inspiring.”
Honestly, I can appreciate both approaches (though I do not and will not ever “test” my children).
I love the idea of unschooling. Of letting my children’s interests lead the way in our learning adventures. I fully appreciate that they can and DO learn from everything they do and everyone they meet. I’ve seen the powerful learning that happens when you get your hands dirty doing something you love. I agree that more can be gained by the reading of a good book than many a lecture, and that a lively discussion can tell me more about what my child is thinking than any set of reading comprehension questions ever devised. I love rabbit trails, spontaneity, and the freedom of following your heart rather than a schedule.
But…
I also have seen the fruits of a few excellent, well-timed, pre-planned lessons. I’ve seen the progress made by requiring a bit of copywork. I’ve experienced the benefits, especially to JBug, of a steady diet of simple, short, tailored instruction. I’ve come to appreciate the value of sometimes just pushing through the bad to get to the good. Sometimes. Not always. And narration…that really does work. Like magic.
So, although I am truly an unschooler at heart, I also have an appreciation for the benefits of a Charlotte Mason-type education (as well as Montessori in the younger years, but that’s another post) and I absolutely think she has some things very, very right.
And to complicate this whole mess is the fact that I am in charge of the education of two very different children with very different strengths and needs. I have in Superboy what I think of as the ultimate unschooling candidate–naturally inquisitive, laid-back but full of passions and a ready will to follow them. Add to that a natural inclination against deadlines and schedules. And I also have JBug who would quite frankly flounder without a good bit of hand-holding, who needs things spelled out to her in a way that I have never before experienced and don’t fully understand, and who I have seen blossom like never before during our Charlotte Mason year.
What’s a Mom to do?
I think what I have come to realize (and am still working out in my brain) is that when school is life and life is school, things are not always cut-and-dry, black and white. In fact they rarely are. What works for one child in one instant may not work for the next child or in the next instant. And as parents who care way down deep in our souls about our children’s education, we cannot afford to be inflexible, boxed in, closed to change. We must be ready for just about anything and that can’t happen if we put on philosophical blinders.
They say there are no straight lines in nature and though I know that isn’t strictly true, I can appreciate the sentiment. Life is messy– full of sudden turns, slippery bits, and rough edges. And so education, being a reflection of life, is also messy. I may never be able to fit it neatly into any particular box sealed with a pretty label.
And, you know… I kind of like it that way.
(stay tuned for a post about how I envision all this messiness playing out in our little homeschool by the sea)
