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Posts tagged ‘how kids learn’

How do they learn?

When people ask me this question, it could mean a couple of things:

The actual nuts and bolts of how they learn – what happens with their brain – I’m pretty sure they’re not asking about that.

The circumstances of how they learn – what opportunities will they have to learn – that could be what they’re asking. I’ll try and answer that question.

Everyday they wake up and they’re learning from that point on. They’re learning in ways I can’t see – how their body responds to the environment. What it feels like to walk around with no socks on on a cold morning. How hungry they are after not eating much at dinner last night. Whether their arm hurts after swinging off the fort yesterday. All of this is going on without my involvement, and to some degree without my input.

Sometimes the learning is more visible. We get water in these 15L canisters with wide mouths at the top. One of our regular drinking glasses fits over the top of the mouth. A couple of weeks ago we had some people over for dinner and Louis got up to get himself a drink of water and he (incorrectly) estimated that the amount of water left in the canister would fit in his drinking glass (well, I think that’s what happened). And he rested the mouth of the canister in his glass. Like, inverted the whole thing. Then, when he saw it wasn’t going to fit, he lifted the canister off and water went EVERYWHERE. One of the dinner guests’ eyes went wide and he started to panic a bit and I turned around to catch the end of what had happened and turned back to the guest saying, “Oh, it’s ok, that’s science. He’s learning all about physics right now. Honey, just go and get a big towel from the rags and soak it up.”

This is the circumstance of learning most of the time in our house. It’s usually messy.

Imagine if I were to try and capture these for a day? I would run myself ragged and annoy the crap out of my kids saying, “Hang on, hang on, I gotta get a photo of that!”

Here’s one that happened last night:

We got given a box of ripe bananas, which we love because we make ice cream and smoothies out of them when they’re frozen. After dinner, while I was milling around doing something, unbeknownst to me, Louis was hauling the box of bananas to the table, and he’d grabbed a bag to freeze them in.The first I knew of it was when he asked, “Could someone help me with this?” And I turned around and saw it all and was like, “Holy hell, he’s really keen!” So we did it together. Some of the bananas were too ripe even for smoothies/ice cream though, so we made a seperate “cake” pile. As we were finishing, I asked him to go and get a sharpie and write “cake” on the bag of bananas that were over-over-ripe. He’s NOT a keen writer. His relationship with a pen is fraught with difficulty. I asked him in a way that gave him 100% recourse to say, “No, I don’t want to.” Which he did. And I said, “Ok, I’ll get Joss to do it” as I was writing “c-a-k-e” on our blackboard (did I mention I made this blackboard??!!). It might have been his pride, or it might have been he saw me write it and thought he could manage it, but he said, “Oh, no – I can do it.” and he did. He wrote it in clear, beautiful letters that look like I could have written them. And now, when he goes to the freezer to get bananas to make a smoothie, or a cake, he’s going to look for that group of letters, and he’s going to know that they make the word “cake”.

These are the circumstances in which they learn.

Louis asked me if I could have another baby when he was 12 years old. I said, “No, I’ll be too old to have a baby when you’re 12.” Which sparked a conversation about eggs, and hormones and egg deterioration. And in an eight-year-old-appropriate way, he’s added to a small foundation of knowledge of reproductive organs, upon which to build at a later date. This is biology. And it’s sociology. This is how he learns.

I could go on forever. These kinds of things happen every day.

They learn about pollination by dreaming of plums while looking at spring-time blossom.

They learn about germination by listening to me swear when my seeds fail to grow yet again.

They learn division when deciding how big the pieces of cake can be while still having enough for one each. They learn multiplication when we pack a lunch and we each want two mandarins.

The learning is non-stop. It can happen on Sunday evenings or Wednesday afternoons and every moment in between.

I am not worried about how they learn. It is not something I occupy my time with. Or theirs. We honestly just live life.

Diary of an Unschooling Family, Day 1

Today was not a great day on the home front.

The kids have been fighting, a lot. They just can’t seem to leave each other alone. There’s a lot of pestering and word-slinging and one-up-man-ship.

I have largely been avoiding dealing with it by playing the “I’m busy with DIY” card and leaving Ron to it. So, I got home from the hardware store to find hell breaking loose, the Apple TV and the iPad hidden, and one inconsolable eight-year-old.

I suggested to Ron that he do something to sort himself – and he decided to go for a run. The kids and I made a smoothie – banana and blueberry – and Louis and I screwed in the final six screws of my first ever, brand new, super-duper shelf, while Joss entertained herself with the play dough (still going strong).

File 6-09-17, 11 10 17 PM

Ron got back and I ducked out of domesticity again to do DIY-stuff, and Louis came outside to help me, still struggling with the injustice of not being allowed to watch TV. I listened to him, reflected back to him, and helped him sink his mind into something other than screens.

Then, it was lunch time, so we rustled up some pasta puttanesca, the builder (who’s also an old friend of mine) showed up so we shared it with him, and we had about an hour of calm, where no-one bopped anyone else on the head, or pulled their nostril, or twisted their finger. But, after lunch is when the kids would normally watch some kind of screen, so Louis was really distraught. He couldn’t find his groove for a very long time.

At about 3pm, Louis came into the office, stood beside me and said “I’m having a tough day.” He was. He was really struggling. He takes these things straight to heart, and says things like, “I am NOT feeling the love”, which is 100% true, I get it. In his book Between Parent and Child, Dr Haim Ginott states that there is not room for punishment in a loving relationship. And, really, there’s not. When my children are punished, they are often consumed by the feelings of un-love, and spare no thought for the potential change of behaviour in the future. It is really pointless. It is mostly done through anger, frustration, and impatience. When I punish them, it is invariably in one of those states-of-mind, and it sucks. It’s on those nights that I go and look at them sleeping.

Then Louis finally managed to sink himself into something, and Ron and he put together some shelves I had bought at the hardware store. Just after that, my mum came and took the kids out for an hour, and Ron and I tried to tackle the fucking disaster area that is our laundry, and come up with some solution for hiding the hot water cylinder, which we didn’t do.

The kids got home, Louis and Ron took Isa for a walk around the block, and Joss and I started making pizza to very loud music. I was frustrated by my lack of solution for the water cylinder, and Joss tried to console me with understanding looks, gentle strokes of my shoulder, cushiony kisses to my cheek, and joining me in singing at the tops of our lungs.

And then the boys got back, and we were all in the kitchen, and no-one was bopping anyone on the head and I said, Quick!! Let’s take a photo!!

And now they’re all in bed, and I’m going to join them.