For Lunch, We Take Big Bites. Then, We Chew…

It’s been a while. It’s 2018 and a cold, snowy, about to get snowier day here in Kamloops. The day so far has been full – reading an engaging book in early morning when all is quiet and making enough mental notes for a good conversation with the boys later on, walking the dog in winter crispness, meeting with Sasha’s teacher to lay out this semester’s intended learning (a group of homeschooling kids meet once a week for various learning activities such as nature excursions, science experiments, art, and of course, playing.) Add a haircut and grocery shopping… then we’re back home for the day’s learning.

Sasha settles on a book about Canadian discoveries, a library book that has them raise their eyebrows in surprise and say ‘Oh, I did not know that…’ or ‘Mom, did you know…’. Past the reading about discoveries comes the part where creativity kicks in and be it Lego, or other materials, various viable or less so inventions come to life. Inspiration is a word that contains a world of hopes, dreams, sweat, frustrations, and sometimes succeeding, but it never ends at that. It’s a word I’d like the boys to make it a constant presence in their lives as they grow up and I’d like the same for myself, to be inspired no matter what.

As we sit for lunch, we chat about an incoming overnight hike to a nearby lake, and I wish I could remember how the conversation slipped from snowy woods, cabins, and the games we’d play in the evening to Martin Luther King. While the boys still munch on their food, I read out loud about his contribution to the world and then we listen to his famous speech ‘I had a dream.’ The timing couldn’t have been more adequate. Our last weeks have been peppered with many conversations about equality, the expectation of some to dominate over others, modern-day slavery, the extent of it compared to the old day, the wrongness of allowing it as an invisible presence in the developed world market, the fact that people are still judging people based on the colour of their skin.

The boys sit and listen; I read some of the words that carry so much weight it’s a wonder (not the positive kind) we do not employ them more intensely in the education process. ‘Nothing in the world is more dangerous than sincere ignorance and conscientious stupidity…’ has me read over twice because it brings so much with it. We live in an age when questionable leaders emerge with the help on internet ‘viral’ spreading of various kinds of information, true or otherwise.

We also live in a world where education is being tweaked to fit within narrow confines dictated by commercialism (presence of cell phones in classrooms has nothing to do with learning no matter how you turn it, no pun intended) and is often commandeered by the fear of imposing any boundaries, even though children’s well-being depends on the adults around them establishing healthy boundaries.

How are we to inspire the young generation to seek knowledge in the interest of preventing ultimately selfish pursuits and avoid ‘conscientious stupidity?’ How are we to inspire them to see that the world they are part of is requires patience to understand, a sense of wonder and determination to develop critical thinking skills that will eventually help create a better social, political, and environmental landscape…

Learning is a beautiful adventure, a constantly evolving path that can have us maintain a balance within ourselves as we grow, no matter our age, and balance with the world we belong to. I wish that by the time the boys are ready to take off flying, they will remember that and keep that as a bookmark of sorts in that book of knowledge they’ll hopefully keep tucked in their backpacks…

One social study – The Thursday bunch of flyers

The Thursday bunch of flyers is the thickest of all. Tony had remarked on that before, during the time he had a paper route. At first, I thought it was just a random occurrence but now I know it is so. Thursday heralds the approaching weekend via flyers and people follow the trail all the way to the mall (or other individual stores) to shop.

A regular Thursday pile of flyers is thick. The Black Friday pile was the thickest I’ve seen so far, but then again, there’s always a next opportunity. After all, any event can be made into a sale event, says the marketing guru team overlooking our ways from where they can see what the masses are attracted to and even if they are not, what they can be persuaded to buy. Overwhelming irresistible visuals, promises of so much (emptiness.)

Hence our homeschool social study. The boys got three flyers each – one from a food store, one from an electronics store and another from an everything retail store. Then came dissection time!

For the food flyer, I made a few categories: wholesome, local/seasonal, environmentally-damaging, misleading, and processed (yes, there is good/necessary processed and bad processed (if you think Cheesies you are on the right track.) For starters.

As expected, it was an eye-opener, not that my eyes are not open enough. Yes, cynicism seeps in from all corners, but such is the nature of the journey. The boys added a letter here and there, L for local, S for seasonal (seasonal where, Mom?) and then we chatted. Have the ‘why’ answered when you chat with children, they said. I did. The local food is scarce in big stores. Plus, it’s winter – what would seasonal offer? Seasonal in areas that are close enough geographically so that the food does not accrue too high a fossil fuel tag, can we add that up? Can one eat healthy with just seasonal/local offers? People did it for a long time. Would that foster better appreciation for food and reduce waste? Perhaps.

We moved on to the electronics flyer and the ‘everything’ store. We perused the images and as we did so I felt many shades of shame for my fellow humans. How many kinds of laptops and cell phones do we need to have available for consumption when we know the high price in human lives and environmental damage that the extraction of precious metals inflicts?

The huge TV screens – how many kinds do we ‘need’? And if the size is so, where can you fit it? Not in a small room, that’s for sure. And that is before you get the rest of the surround system paraphernalia. Bigger is not better, unless it refers to the size of one’s heart, metaphorically speaking of course. How can kids of today learn about it if they see bricks of flyers every week advertising the opposite?

If we are to find a way out of this environmental mess and wasteland we have created over the last century but more so over the last 50 years, we really need to promote ‘small’ and necessity-based living. Leaving room for what matters (how do we determine that?) is a daunting task for today’s youngsters. There is an army (more in fact) of marketing specialists, ad wizards, and app creators ready to add to the shackles that enslave too many the young minds. Sure it cannot be so dark you may say. Take a look around is what I say; it’s not a pretty sight.

Consumerism is out of hand. What’s ironic of course is that many people find themselves buying things they do not need, or they buy because the deal is too good to pass on. There is an avalanche of things and special offers that keeps on tumbling down, and the fast-paced life allows for little, is any breaks to conjure critical thinking and make sound decisions regarding consumption.

Onto the ‘everything store’ flyer. In the toy section there are board games – how refreshing! – featuring Nintendo games and some big brand names. Subliminal messages? Ah, but the message is rather in our faces. Do we mind? I do. Why not leave games as they are? Why not leave toys unbranded and children’s minds unpopulated with logos? It would only benefit them, leaving enough room to observe, question, wonder, choose.

Truly, there is so much to learn from merely observing the paths we travel during just one day of existence. Looking around, reading, pondering, but most of all, questioning. That is what we want our children to grow up into. Critical thinking tools are too precious and necessary to not be passed on. In a world that is bursting at the seams with too much stuff, but where famine and poverty are rampant in so many parts of the world, leaving our children minds open to see and question becomes a moral obligation.

The conversation expanded in many directions. The boys had questions, doubts, answers, and then more questions. I had some of the answers too, but the point is not for me to answer but for us to converse on the topic. Not just on a regular day of homeschooling but on any day. To delve deeper still by looking around and casting glances that do not succumb our minds to the mainstream flow but rather help us question the happenings of today, which ideally will prompt ideas for change. Spring will not be brought about by one flower, it’s been said countless times, but then again, it’s a start.

As It Happens: Breakfast and Social Studies

‘Is this social studies?’ Tony asked.

I said yes, because it was. It all started during breakfast with Sasha declaring rather nonchalantly ‘People who live in the Amazon are the happiest, compared to people in the civilized world.’ He meant tribes. The Amazon tribal lifestyle has been a topic in our household for a while now. It is mind-boggling that people can still live in tribes on one side of the world and the iPhone8 is being released on the other side. At the same time, it is horrible to think that people who do not endanger our well-being are being demised by many things including climate change, deforestation, natural resource exploitation companies, many of them illegal. Much of that powers our own lifestyle on this side of the world. In a nutshell. So yes, an impromptu social study class it was.

As for Sasha’s statement, well, it was a provocation of sorts for his older brother, who replied that he could never be happy if he had to live there. Too simple a way of life. They are happy because they do not know the difference, was his retort.

Much like one does during a veritable tennis match, my eyes were darting from one boy to the other. An engaged dialogue is a wonderful opportunity to voice opinions, learn, learn to debate, and do so without literally gouging each other’s eyes off. There’s a learning curve though. We’re riding it as we speak. I am usually the referee; I offer virtual glasses of cold water. Things got heated nevertheless.

Denmark, Tony said, has been declared to be the country with the happiest people on Earth. Not tribal, evidently, but quite advanced. So… what gives? Is happiness a one-faceted thing or… definition notwithstanding, progress is good, it keeps us afloat and powers our way of life. Tony’s argument. Yet… It kills us slowly too? It weakens us and burdens us? Hence the question: which is true, why, and how? Happiness, that is but one of the variables, yes?

Take another bite, half chew it, add a thought and keep the conversation rolling. The boys were so caught up in it, they kept intercepting each other and bringing arguments for each side.

Are people in our society equipped to survive, should a crisis situation arise? Many of us lack important knowledge of the natural world, because we have been so severed from it, by choice or by circumstance, Sasha argued. But progress and innovation are essential, Tony said. That’s how we came to be where we are. It is why we can communicate easily with each other, no matter how far, why we can use technology to serve us in ways that our ancestors never dreamed of (save for Leonardo da Vinci, and Roger Bacon, Sasha always adds, as he was quite the visionary.) We have medical care and more progress can only mean better things yet. Tony’s points.

Valid, all of them, but what is the price of all of this, I asked. What is the price of all this technology and progress, as we choose to refer to it? That the human mind is innovative, there is no doubt. We keep creating things and finding solutions to various problems. And that brings many good things. At the same time, the way our western society is shaped, there is something that shadows most of the good things innovation makes possible. Profit past the point of doing well financially; profit to the point of nauseatingly high profits. That’s where enormous waste, black markets, slavery, human suffering due to war and famine, for example, and environmental destruction lie.

Back to happiness – what makes us happy? Small communities where people are connected have lower levels of depression and unhappiness. Cities have countless amenities but there is, for the most part, the isolated existence phenomenon, which we get pushed into by fast-paced lifestyles, reliance on virtual connectedness (as if), and the belief that we do not need others to survive.

Happiness is a simple concept, and rather independent of material possessions. It should be anyway. Because material possessions do not actually feed the centers, but stimulate the dependence/addiction ones, which are situated, as far as I can tell, at the opposite end.

The debate went on for a while. One of the conclusions was that humans have been using nature for various purposes since the beginning of time. Conservation was not always done mindfully but perhaps instinctively. To survive. Nowadays it is done at a scale that challenges even the optimists’ imagination, and the result of it is what we call climate change, but beyond that, the result is a lot of human suffering, which again, we condemn when we think of times past, but are not willing to delve into it fully and learn about it as a facet of present day reality.

In short. We do know better nowadays; yet we act in ways that often prove the opposite. Therein lies the question. Happiness is elusive and not the ultimate purpose; or maybe it is. But can you have happiness without being connected to others, nature, and ultimately yourself?

A book Tony and I read recently titled ‘The Garbage King’ by Elizabeth Laird, brings interesting arguments to the issue. It’s a good read if you have the time.

To be continued. Meanwhile… your thoughts?

It’s September. Here we go again.

I feel a bit like the white rabbit in Alice in Wonderland these days; hurried, forgetting a few things, and just as often following my own steps until I realize I am running in circles. Adequately so, you could say. It’s the beginning of the school year, which means planning, more planning, sorting through books and ideas, sharpening handfuls of pencils and searching for erasers at the bottom of drawers. Jumping knee-deep in phone and in-person chats with our learning consultants, checking multiple mail boxes regularly… A word that does not exist in the summer dictionary other than to accurately describe our evenings spent on the river banks. Regularly showing up there, self-respecting river rats that we are.

We are to transition (in harmony, if possible,) from those long-drawn summer nights when you fill the time laughing, playing, chatting, hiding behind sand castles you build on the river banks so the setting sun won’t find you, so you can keep going forever.

 

The autumn chill started swallowing those bright summer nights, cricket chirps and all, a couple of weeks ago. You see it clearer with each year passing by. Time flies. You know there is no running away from it, but in knowing that, you also learn to hug each day a bit closer and take a deeper breath each morning. You learn to take off your shoes so your feet can dance on the dewy grass, you learn to silence everything for a few precious moments; eyes closed, only bird songs should be allowed to breach the silence.

We will transition then. It’s an adventure, yes, another stage in our growing to know more of the world and place ourselves with grace somewhere in it. Grace, gracefulness, gratefulness… It’s how I find my balance. Brackets of gratefulness opening and closing each day (most days?) and each season, each year. Forgetfulness, forgiveness, learning what being human means, that’s also on our curriculum.

Doubt pinches me, it does. Am I going to know how to do it all? Is our learning adventure good enough to feed their growing, curious minds? The whole picture is dazzling and nauseating at once. I won’t go there. Instead, I go the old way: one day at a time. Yes, many will ask me once again, and again, if the boys get enough socializing (yes, they do) and if this is really learning (yes, it is, just jump into a conversation with them,) and if they are missing out on life of any other kind (no, but ask them?).

So it is then. We will put up our sails and ride the waves. Some will toss us every which way, some will downright maroon us on some forgotten shores from where we will find our way back to where we can see the stars again. And some will lift us all the way up from where we will gaze and see past the limitations. Learning is an adventure; a door that never closes.

Lesson of the Day: Everything is Connected

How do you go from planting French tarragon, tomatoes, and zucchini to the lymphatic system, with some stroke information and type II diabetes facts and implications along the way? Oh, and the perils of climate change when it comes to plants and crops in general.

There is no recipe really, other than keeping the mind open and making connections. Eyes wide open, two boys jumping in with ‘I know the answer, can I say?’ and taking turns becomes a game I moderate and delight in doing so.

How do you then? You spend some time in the garden, tiny as it is, weeding and helping the little seedlings thrive with less competition. You talk about weeds as you do so: why do they grow so well, how do they grow no matter how rainy or dry the season? Resilience comes from?…

Then you talk about soil and thoughts trail back to when we did that first time, looking at pill bugs and earthworms and many other critters we had to imagine as we could not see. Kids do that willingly, which is why they learn so heartfully. They are open to imagining and building on from there.

The next day you talk seeds, fruit that bears them, the mysteries that make them germinate. Both boys are now well aware of the beautiful process that transforms a dormant seed into a plant. They steal each other’s words: you start dicotyledons, move through explaining hypocotyl, the role of the starches and fats the seed stores until the leaves appear (why only till then? What happens as leaves appear and bathe their wee faces in the sunshine? Oh yes, I gave it away… Photosynthesis).

The dance includes now chlorophyll, which is so interestingly similar to hemoglobin. And what do they each do? How? What makes our hemoglobin able to uptake oxygen? Where does that upload take place and where do the red blood cells take that oxygen? And then? Arteries, veins, movement that promotes health, breathing the right way. This is how is done… The boys breathe in and out and we wonder more about how magical the oxygenation process. Muscles that need oxygen, movement again, we need to move more and it less.

Why do strokes happen? Do they have to do with blood? Circulatory issues… Type II diabetes, a terrible and increasing menace. What exactly is that? We talk insulin, pancreas, lifestyle, movement again too, food… we’re back to the garden. Eating what we are best designed to eat. Plants… seeds and seedlings, growing into plants that produce more seeds and the big cycle continues.

‘Mom, I love it how they are all connected! It makes so much sense!’

‘Mom, is this a subject or two?’ It’s many. It’s the way they are connected. Everything is connected.

I take a deep breath. This is homeschooling. I think I’m starting to understand its beauty.

Yes, There Is Some Magic Involved

 

The things is, learning is not a straightforward concept. People keep wanting to straighten the curls and create the line you can safely walk on in your pursuit of information. Therein lies the problem. Lines do not accommodate much freedom to wiggle your toes, or your brain cells for that matter.

It took me a while to figure out the line thing. In some ways, I had to, given that the boys learn at home. In homeschooling, we’re anything but straight lines. Squiggles. Artesian fountains of thoughts and ideas, zigzags, much like the flight of the many small birds our pup engages in chasing on any given morning. Lack of focus, you might be tempted to say. Hardly, and here’s why:

There’s an intricate feeling of being silently patient while waiting for the big picture to appear in the boys’ minds. It does, without fail. It takes patience, like I said, and trust. I think kids can feel that you’re giving them the time of day to make sense of what their mind acquires through reading, touching, seeing and hearing. And I dare say they know when they are not rushed or pressured in any way, when they are free to play with concepts and not feel self-conscious.

I like to think of that process of eventually seeing the big picture and understanding where and how everything fits in as the building of an island. I watch bits of this and that falling into a hungry ocean; their mind (any human mind for that matter). The more knowledge in whatever form (yes, mishaps count!) their minds come in contact with, the more bits accumulate. Where? That’s where trust comes in.

One day, an island emerges. All the bits that kept being engulfed by their hungry minds, they danced their invisible dance, neurons making new friends every day, doors opening, new breeze of satisfaction paving the way with even more curiosity… an island appears, and in the middle of it, a child, grinning and holding up his happy heart, celebrating knowledge! It’s when things make sense.

There is no timing on it so don’t rush them. There are no boundaries to learning either, so yes, follow some curriculum to a certain extent, but never stop them from exploring. Learning is magic if you let children follow that sparkly path curiosity leads them on. Learning is joyful, so much in fact that one day Tony wondered ‘If I like this so much, does it count as school?’

That’s when it’s my turn to smile big and count the many blessings of witnessing the way they learn. Tears always follow. Then, we start anew. We wobble some more (yes, again), we doubt and wonder if this is still the way to go (yes, again) and we find that trust grows stronger with each island that peeks out from below the waves.

So, About Those Pink Shirts

It’s the day after. February 23, which comes right after the big anti-bullying day, pink T-shirts and all. Back when Tony started school we would purchase them directly from the teacher. Now you can buy them in stores too. Store clerks need to buy them too in some stores. I guess to prevent customer bullying?

It sounds nice and dandy and looks all innocently pink that day, but then when the next day comes… The boys’ T-shirts, because you had to buy one for each as a statement to your anti-bullying stance (I mean theirs,) went in their drawers until the following year when, if they still fit, they’d be worn to affirm their opposition to bullying.

Now here’s the thing: there was no way to make them wear them another time in between anti-bullying days at school because… ‘Mom, it’s pink.’ Right. I did not have a colour-coded childhood, and neither did my boys. They wore colours and some happened to be shades of this or that and that was that. Still, that pink T-shirt was a no-go.

You see, Sasha was already in the pink corner you could say. Because of his long hair (longer than your average boy haircut,) he was called ‘she’ by this one (short-haired) boy in his class. Yeah, dare wear some pink, Sasha, why don’t you. He didn’t. Also, he corrected the boy explaining that he is a boy. The ‘she’ appellation continued. Subtle but undermining when you’re grade 3.

My point is: the pink T-shirts work as long as they’re being backed up by true to form authority stance on bullying. Which on many an occasion does not happen. Many children end up bullied and alone in it. Just recently, two teenage boys from an Edmonton school (yes, the same school), committed suicide. They were Tony’s age and younger. Their deaths brought forth many more complaints from other students who have been bullied over the years, or were while they went to that school. The administration concluded there was no bullying in the school and most likely dressed everyone in pink yesterday. For anti-bullying day.

I see the pink T-shirts as a good initiative, but if you have it but once a year, you’re looking at 364 days of ‘fingers crossed’ in hope that all goes well and bullies dissolve in thin air. They don’t. Moreover, because bullying went from directly belittling and hitting someone (at least you knew where it came from,) to the insidious and seriously harming cyberbullying, the threat is higher than ever nowadays. Children likely need some pink body and mind armour to keep them safe from that kind of threat.

Pink T-shirts alone are simply not enough to protect children against bullying. A strong anti-bullying affirmed position needs to be there all the time or else we will keep on seeing people getting hurt. No one should feel alone while dealing with bullying and yet many do.

I recently chatted with a young man, a neighbourhood high school graduate. He explained the facts: when you enter high school you might make a friend or two if you’re lucky. If you ever get on the bad side of someone popular and get bullied, you better not complain to any teachers. ‘Walls have eyes and ears’ he said; you learn that soon enough. He was happy to be done with that chapter. ‘I wish I could one day say it like it was so enough people will know.’ I could see no need to ask if he had his pink T-shirt on occasionally. It sounded like it would’ve have made a difference anyway. Like a pink band-aid, it would cover the wound but not protect against other injuries or deal with what’s causing them.

Any day’s lesson: beyond math and science, there’s a lot of you

What’s the first thought that comes to mind when you think school? Joy. Ha! I am being cheeky, I know. It’s likely a math thought. Or science. Shudder. Not me; I am of the geek tribe that finds such subjects attractive. A language of sorts that helps in translating the world around into yet another comprehensible way. Or not, say many disillusioned former schoolers.

The first few days of having Tony at home two years ago when we started homeschooling came with a few serious confidence jolts. Do I have what it takes to do it? What about potholes? Because I knew there will be some. (There have been.) It felt like this: there’s a gate you open, you make your way through and then look for the path. There is none. You have to make one; with every step you take, a path appears. then you get lost. Repeat.

‘Do you like learning at home?’ I’d ask them both occasionally. Yes. Are they just being polite? Nope, we learn to be honest here. So no. Still, the path we make… Me, the guide. Them boys following.

I step unsurely at times because ‘what if?…’ – and most often, the what if is followed by a dark cloud. Gulp. The negative alternatives. Some days become so intense you’ll be thinking you’re heading for disaster. We cover subjects of all kinds, and then we make it our own with subjects we NEED to cover. Say, for example… emotions.

For all the stormy days we’ve had along the way, we need a manual on being. Emotions as they happen. Learning what takes us straight into the brambles where the spikes are and then there needs to be some learning on how to make our way out. Boys and emotions. There’s a book I cherish that is cradled among other parenting books: it’s called Raising Cain: Protecting the emotional life of boys (Dan Kindlon and Michael Thompson.) A peek inside a boy’s heart. The mysterious realm of storms and wonderful adventures.

So we made it a subject in our school. Ditto for learning to communicate respectfully, aiming for non-violence but feeling our way towards where one can stand tall, humble and vulnerable at the same time.

We talk about anger and joy, about letting others know how their actions make you feel, about the courage to look at yourself in the mirror that someone holds for you to see… We talk about being humble enough to accept that sometimes you’ll be the one leaving marks that do not show though they do exist among people’s feelings. Shreds of pain here and there, which you cause without meaning to do so.

On any given day, emotions filling us like a cup fills with tea. You pour until you reach below the brim. Physics dictate that if you continue the cup will overflow. Then you have to deal with the mess. We accept that as a fact because we see it happen. No witnesses needed, no explanations from the cup as to why everything went past the edge. Because you overdid it, that’s why. When it comes to pouring too much onto people and seeing their emotions overflow… there’s a lot to learn.

Kindness, we talk about that too. Perspective changing when you’re wearing each other’s shoes. Emotions exist and they are part of a person. You feel and your feelings matter. We more than touch on that. We look into each other’s eyes after a storm and that takes courage. It makes it possible to stay close to each other, to reach out when a curved ball reaches your soft sides, to laugh with all your heart, to cry when all becomes too much to bear. To listen when one says it hurts. To forgive and to learn why asking for forgiveness is such a gargantuan task . . .  And yet, it’s vital. It makes hearts softer and minds more understanding of other people’s plight.

So onwards we go through days of learning. We tell stories, the boys open up and bravely speak up when the other’s actions are hurting, and we try to understand, repair trust and reinforce the connections. I am but a guide for it all, yet learning as much as they do from each of the subjects, emotions included (mine too, yes.)

For this is learning. Of ourselves most of all. With humbleness, with gratefulness, with courage to bare it all, emotion-wise. Hugs at bedtime are a must. Tomorrow we trek on farther than today. We follow a path we make with our own footsteps…

Witness To Snowfall and Children Learning

There is something beautifully gentle about being privy to the first snowflakes falling. Like the flutter of a newborn’s eyelids as she’s nestled in a sling by your heart. I remember that too well, though the boys are way past the age. I remembered that the other day when the morning walk with the pup brought the beginning flutters of a snowfall to rest on my cheeks…

The snowflakes the other day had an interesting effect though. First of all, they reminded me of time passing. Of this corner of goodness where I am but the homeschooling mama of my two boys. Of the corner I have been missing from for too long. Time passes. There is no counteracting, but there is being present. My forever reminder to myself.

Back to snowflakes. The second thing  they brought with them was an unmistakable similarity to my witnessing of the boys’ discovering the world they learn about. It’s that sensible a process you see, hence my witnessing of it a gift i do not take in jest. Their eyes light up as they talk about the things they find ever so intriguing and I keep silent and listening because I could not bear the thought of missing it. Then I ask about this or that. What do you know of this or that? what does that word mean? The concept of?…

Sasha learned about electricity and built circuits for days. Rephrase: Sasha built circuits for days; he had fun, eyes twinkling with the surprise of it all. Joy followed along like a puppy. The result was learning about electricity. Then it dwindled. For now it will sit somewhere on a brain shelf until the day comes for it to resurface. We visited Makers’ Space here in Kamloops recently; perhaps future visits hold the key to more learning about electricity. It’ll come. That’s what learning is about. A cascade of facts that link this fact to that and create a bridge of knowledge that you can walk on from here to there, inferring, developing common sense and …well, thinking. What a grand adventure!

Tony delves into geography, becoming so accustomed to a place (right now it is the UK and Ireland) that he can name destinations within it, attach historical facts to it and put today’s happening into perspective. He dives into a complex textbook (say, chemistry) without questioning whether the level would be too high for grade 9. Learning calls for curiosity and discussions. His eyes and mind grow at the same rate; seeing beyond the often narrow path a curriculum imposes.

Stop where facts start getting confusing and information overwhelming, I tell them. They do. I take over where they stop, I read, and then meet them in the realm of where they left it. I am a mere guide, teaching them most of all, and hopefully so, to have the humbleness to admit where their own knowledge of a subject lacks so they pursue more learning. Truly, when we know more, we realize how much more there is that we have yet to learn. It brings awareness of the necessity of life-long learning and the imperative quality we need to pursue that: developing and maintaining an open mind.

Should that be one of the purposes of our learning at home? It better be. The dance continues, much like the delicate dance of snowflakes. I am there to see it. Aware of the immense privilege, I end my days just like I start them: with gratefulness.

Time Well Spent With (Learning) Breakfast Chats

I don’t know where the response came from and how it all started. I stopped and listened when I heard Sasha say ‘Who gives anyone the right to take an animal off the face of the planet?’. Sometimes that is what happens when we progress as a society, the answer came. An unfortunate side effect, Tony explained, brought upon by progress.

At that point the conversation got a life of its own: what is progress and what’s the most accurate way to explain the concept? All four of us agreed with the rather flat affirmation ‘You cannot stop progress.’ Indeed, you cannot. I find that unsettling.

Little boy argued for the goodness that is found in smaller communities: people know each other and the societal mesh can hold everyone securely. In big cities, some people get to live a very affluent lifestyle while others are chewed by life and thrown to the poor side of the street.

His brother argued that the immense leaps of progress humans have been accomplishing in the last century or so lead to better healthcare, lots of great scientific discoveries that make our lives easier and more comfortable.

I threw in a pebble for a bit of pondering time… A great few words by Ed Begley Jr. which I find intriguing and sobering. Clearly suited for our morning debate. “I don’t understand why when we destroy something created by man we call it vandalism, but when we destroy something by nature we call it progress.”

Oh? Both stopped to think. Hmm. I added my own: I wish that progress meant that we would use the knowledge and wisdom we have gathered over the years and bring our society (planet) to a higher level of well-being. They agreed, but… that is not the case. Why not?

Greed, egos, nearsightedness when it comes to life outside our immediate individual sphere? Our four people dialogue slipped into another realm: what makes us act in considerate ways versus acting for a certain gain (monetary for example)? I had read about how the human mind can either act out of kindness or for monetary gain but is never able to superimpose the two. Food for thought.

Can progress be made with consideration to life in all aspects and used to better everyone’s existence? It that feasible? Ethics and economics, progress and respect to human life and the environment, general well-being and societal growth… can they all be mixed up and moulded into a fluid, transparent yet warm and worthy of our complex nature, able to serve needs and keep us evolving towards better versions of ourselves as individuals and as a society (planetary society included).

The breakfast chat is to be continued. More reading, more talking, more listening… more to see and understand. Room to grow for all, brought through the gift of being free to think. Learning is amazing, isn’t it? The gift of freedom too. To make choices, to gather knowledge to choose in ways that prove wise and honour our humanity rather than stomp on it. My hope is that the boys will grow into understanding that. School as we know it…