Unschooling?

There are apparently around three thousand children in this state who do not attend school. Some of them are being "home-schooled" but others, according to something I have just read, are being "un-schooled". 

I had not heard this term before but apparently around seven hundred or so children in this state are not on any sort of regular time table. They are apparently deciding what they will do and when they will do it almost all the time. There is supposed to be some sort of "learning plan" but they are exempt from the other requirements.

I wonder how that works. Are they actually learning? I suppose they must be but what are they learning? 

According to the article the unschooling approach accommodates children with autism and ADHD.  Perhaps it does.

I have a friend who, due to a disability, did not attend school until she was thirteen. She had a range of people who helped her learn but she largely taught herself. I say that advisedly. A... was a self-starter. She wanted to know things. From a very early age she was curious about everything. She was reading at two and has never stopped. I know people think it has all been easy for her but in reality she has worked extremely hard. There was a timetable of sorts. It was flexible. It had to be because her teachers were not always available.  A...found school frustrating. I remember her complaining about the amount of time that was wasted there changing lessons, waiting for a teacher and for the rest of the class to catch up. She ended up at a very well known university. There she has written books and her lectures are popular. The latter surprises many people. It does not surprise me. She understands "learning". I often wonder what would have happened if she had gone to school from the usual age of five. "Unschooling" suited her.

I wonder how many children "unschooling" really suits though. The problem is that the rest of the world does not work that way. Most people's work involves routines. There are regular tasks that need to be done and done at certain times.  If you have gone through your school age years not needing to do that then how do you cope? 

 

Old family photographs can be

interesting, frustrating, infuriating, dull and matters for debate. Who is the person third from the left in the front row? Is that Uncle S.... in the back row? Which one is Aunt J... and which one is Aunty R....?

Brother Cat came across a photograph last week and sent it on to me and Middle Cat to see how many people we could identify. He could remember the occasion but could only name a few in the extended family photograph. 

I have not heard from Middle Cat. She has probably only glanced at the photo as she is in the middle of helping the sister of the man who died last week.  I only found time to look at the photograph last night. Brother Cat had named the few people he knew correctly but, quite rightly, assumed I would know more.

The event was the family gathering we had to celebrate the Golden Wedding Anniversary of my paternal grandparents. Both of them came from large families. There were eleven in Grandpa's family and nine in Grandma's. Not all of them were there of course as some were no longer alive and others had moved a considerable distance away. Those that were there must all have been living in the city by then.  

I found the photo disturbing. Yes of course many people in the photo were elderly even then (my grandparents married rather late) and I did not expect them to still be with us. It is what you expect with a very old photograph and this one was taken half a century ago.

It was not that which disturbed me as much but two other ideas. The first was that so many marriages do not last a great many years now. I was talking to a teacher recently and she mentioned that just over half the children in her class are from "single parent or blended families".  Her school is in a "good" area. I could not help wondering what other schools might be like.

The second thought I had was that the photo was of a family occasion - the sort which does not happen as often now. Of course that relates to the breakdown in so many marriages. It also relates to the smaller family sizes. I am one of four. Both my parents were one of only two but that was exceptional at the time. My paternal grandparents wanted more children but my grandmother was unable to carry them to full time. My maternal grandparents would have stopped at one if the first had been a boy. They did not really want children at all. It was all so unlike the eleven in my paternal grandfather's family and the nine in my grandmother's. And Grandpa's family was particularly close and supportive. Even my generation maintains contacts within it.

I wonder what will happen if people come across photos fifty years from now? Will they know any of those people? Will they recognise others? Will any contacts have been maintained? What sort of society will they be living in? 

Does anyone else find it disturbing? 

Speech and sign language or....

just speech? The perennial issue came up in a discussion on a website yesterday. There are strong views on either side when discussing the education of the profoundly deaf.

I am in the "speech and sign language" camp. I have been right from the first time I met a profoundly deaf person. She was a girl about my own age. We managed to maintain a sort of friendship for as long as the long bus journeys back to our homes in the country took. 

It was very clear to me even then that lip reading cannot do all the work for the vast majority of people born with a profound hearing loss. Lip reading requires intense concentration. No two people speak in quite the same way. It is impossible to lip read some people. To ask a person with a profound hearing loss to rely on nothing but speech is unreasonable. It adds immensely to the stress of their lives - and often the lives of those around them.

Of course the argument is made that allowing the deaf to sign from a young age means they will not make the effort to lip read or communicate with speech. It is an argument I have heard many times. I disagree. Other people feel differently.

I was not really involved in the discussion yesterday. I was much more concerned with trying to sort out something else. Despite that I was trying to keep an eye on what was being said and eventually found a moment to add something that is not being addressed in most discussions. 

It is this. Deafness is a very, very isolating thing. It is even more isolating if you do not have spoken language learned naturally as a child. The acquisition of sign language can be just as important here. Older people need stimulation just as much as younger people. A profoundly deaf person who cannot sign also has to make a far greater effort to communicate. If they do not have the capacity to use a sign language they are at even greater risk of developing dementia because they are not getting the same level of stimulation.

Age related deafness is of course common. Many people mask it well. They unconsciously learn some lip reading skills among people they know. They rely on other cues as well. The problems associated with all this should concern all of us but they are not the same as the problems are for a person who has always been profoundly deaf. We need to be aware of that. Wanting a child to be "only aural-oral" may seem right to parents and others but it may not be the best thing for the child, especially later in life. If both speech and sign can be achieved might that not be a better option?  

There was a violent altercation

in the street yesterday. Two boys from the local high school were pounding each other and another, much smaller boy, was sitting on the footpath with blood streaming from his head.

I was about to stop (very cautiously) when someone else came running up. One of those fighting ran off and the two who were left were being questioned by someone who obviously knew them. I left them all to it.

What was going on I do not know. I suppose I do not want to know but I am aware that there has been more of this sort of behaviour since the Covid lock downs. There is less tolerance. 

The one sitting on the pavement obviously has Chinese parents. That might have been enough. There was an article about the origins of Covid in the paper and it might, if a parent had said something, caused a teenager to say something to a younger and more vulnerable child.

It could have been anything else at all. The young one sitting on the pavement may not have been blameless. That two more were fighting in a serious, hard way was what I found so disturbing. There were the occasional physical altercations at schools I went to but I was never aware of anything quite as serious as yesterday's violence,

Yes, it was violent. I found it quite frightening. I have been left wondering whether the amount of violence seen on screens has left us somehow believing that this is how we now settle arguments. Is there any room left for discussion and negotiation in our lives?

It is not helped by those in authority who appear to condone violence even when they appear to be condemning it.   

"No you may not go and protest"!

Apparently school students are "going out on strike" to "protest" next week. They are "protesting" against "racism".

Now I will protest against "racism" too. Nobody should ever be treated as any less or more worthy on the basis of their identity. I could not care in the least what colour your skin is or where you come from. My only concern is the colour of your thinking and how you care for other people.

Does it mean I would go out and "protest" like the students are being urged to do? Absolutely not. 

The protest is supposedly about a far right political group, one currently (and alarmingly) popular in the pseudo-polling done by the so-called "polling" companies.  The protest is being organised by the leader of the national student union. That person is a member of a group called "Socialist Alliance". It is about as far left as it is possible to get without actually saying "old style Communist". It is inevitable the two will clash. 

Students, many of them secondary school students, are being "encouraged" to walk out of classrooms and attend the "rallies" being organised. All this can now be organised via social media.

We could not have done anything like this as teenagers. There was no social media. We would not even have considered doing it. The closest anyone came to anything like it were the few brave souls who skipped school for an afternoon.  The reason they did it was to see the plane carrying the Beatles land at the airport. There were not many of them who did it. I did not know anyone who did it,

We were kept firmly in school. Our Latin teacher had an alarm clock with her. It rang at the moment the plane was supposed to be landing.

I was asked last night what I would do now if students left to attend a protest. My answer was, "Nothing."  I would say nothing. I would instead have set a series of short tests which counted towards final marks in the subjects they missed. I would inform them of my intention. I would tell them the tests would not be repeated. They would tell me it was "not fair" and I would agree that life is "not fair".  I might suggest they write me a piece about the issues they were protesting about, why they felt so strongly about it and how protesting had helped. When they had done that then we could discuss it...actually discuss it.

Of course I would almost certainly be overruled in all of this by a school principal worried about the potential publicity, one who might even believe they should be protesting. My fellow teachers would be equally and possibly vehemently opposed to my proposed actions. I would perhaps even be accused of supporting the far right. After all if you do not support the far left you must surely support the far right? That there might be a much more reasonable and balanced position somewhere between them is not to be contemplated.

I am grateful I am not the school principal who will have to handle this. I also wonder how the student organising all this is doing in their studies. 

  

"When did you retire?"

is a question which may not be asked quite so often in the future.  The idea of continuing to work beyond the "usual" retirement age - now sixty-seven - was apparently being explored on a television program last night. 

I did not watch the program. I was working. I have not "retired". 

That said, I do not do the excessively long hours I once did. I am more willing than I once was to hand on work to younger people. 

"But you have time to do it!" I am told. Perhaps I do, although I have less time than many people realise. Time is not the issue. The issue is making sure that people younger than I am are ready and able to take over. 

I worked hard all through the Covid pandemic. There were not nearly so many people going out into the crisis and disaster zones for the sort of purpose which might need a communication device. There was an opportunity to train up other people, encourage them to take over where I was leaving off. In a way Covid did me a service.

But I saw the advertisements for the program aired last night. There was someone in their nineties "still working". Someone else said they could not afford to retire or they would be homeless. Someone else said liked working so much he saw no need to retire. 

I was taught Leaving (approximately old style "O" level) mathematics by a man who was seventy-seven at the time. This was in a church boarding school. He was not the only older member of staff and, like at least one other, he should not have been there. He was not a good teacher. If it had not been for a mathematically brilliant student the rest of us would have been lost. I am forever grateful to that boy. He was aware of how poor the teaching was and he would give anyone who wanted it another quick but much better explanation in five or ten minutes at lunch time.  I knitted him a football beanie in return because he gave the rest of us so much help.

The Senior Cat "retired" in name only. He went on teaching until two days before his death. He did it differently though. Instead of restoring order to problem schools he taught individual pupils. One of them stopped me only yesterday and said, "I wish your father was still around. I'd so like to him I've been promoted." It would have delighted the Senior Cat. His idea of retirement was to take it a little more slowly and enjoy the challenge of helping someone who found learning difficult.

I wonder about other people though. A real estate agent Middle Cat and I both know has just retired at eighty. Her house selling record was extraordinary but the firm she worked for was taken over by another company. They do things differently and she was not comfortable with the idea of a "hot desk". When we met in the supermarket she told me, "I suppose I am old fashioned but I liked the idea of knowing I had my own space organised the way I like it." 

Perhaps then this is one of those things which will cause people to retire. The nature of work will change. It will change to a degree where older people no longer feel comfortable with the way things are done. I have long since adapted to computer based work - but can I adapt to AI?

Like the Senior Cat though I have other things I want to do. I want to write other things. I want to make things. I want to go on helping some of the much younger students with their essays - and give the occasional able but unmotivated student some encouragement. There is a huge gap in my life left by the Whirlwind but there is another young one who needs support...and the Senior Cat would encourage it. 

I hear people say they will do "this" or "that" in retirement. Sometimes I wonder whether they will do anything at all. Is it why they sit for hours over a "coffee" in the local shopping centre? Is it why they "go for a walk" but it is really just a bored stroll around the block? Do they have hobbies or are they really spending hours watching sport and scrolling on their screens?

Today I have a friend coming. She will turn ninety at the end of the month - and looks ten years younger. She takes a lively interest in the world. If I suggested she was "retired" she would smile and say something like, "Not really. I just don't get paid the way I once did." 

  

Identifying a body is not

a pleasant thing to do. It was something Middle Cat had to do yesterday. As a retired physiotherapist and because it was someone we both knew rather than a family member it was less disturbing than it might have been. Still, despite all the problems he represented, we both felt saddened by the death of this person. 

S...was morbidly obese. His death at the age of sixty-four will not surprise anyone. Middle Cat and I are actually surprised he did not go at least ten years ago.

My association with his family stretches back to my time in teacher training college. I knew his sister there. She was one of those students "everyone" knows. Her lovely Greek name would have been enough but she also had (and still has) a lively personality to go with it.

I met her father later, one of the many "old" Greek men in the district. He was the sort of man I greeted in Greek, not English. He spoke English but a sort of politeness dictated I use the Greek "kalimera" in the mornings. 

And then, still later, I met S...  Middle Cat sent him over one day because I was having computer problems. 

"S... should be able to fix it. He's very, very good at fixing that sort of thing. I will just one warn you though, he's very overweight." That was an understatement. How Middle Cat managed to get him to visit us is something of a mystery. He avoided strangers. He shopped at the very beginning or the very end of the day. There had to be as few people around as possible. The rest of the time, apart from visits to the doctor or his "computer mate", he hibernated at home. He did on line courses to keep up his Centrelink payments but the reality was that nobody would consider employing him. He was on and off "sickness" benefits and alternated them with "unemployment" and occasional "disability" benefits.  He would do a bit of remote work from time to time...and he would come to visit me and the Senior Cat. 

We all tried to get him to diet but nothing worked. He had no will power at all. His eating habits were wild and unpredictable. His sleeping patterns were equally unpredictable. Knowing I would be up (and almost certainly working) he would phone me at six in the morning. He would eat breakfast with us. I would restrict him to just two slices of homemade bread.  He would accept this, do whatever he had come to do or wait for me to read the seemingly endless forms he had to fill in.  Those things done he would hoist himself in to his beat up old car and go again until the next time. In between he would phone me with questions about things which were worrying him.  Yes, he was distinctly odd. 

Last year and the year before he spent time in hospital but it did nothing for his weight. He phoned me from there one day as the afternoon tea trolley was going around and complained there were no biscuits and no bananas. Once home again he was back to old eating habits.

His clothing had to be made for him. His sister, who lives in another country, would order it for him. 

The house was, and still is, full of things he would order on line. I am not tidy but Middle Cat says are homes look sterile compared with his. You had to negotiate your way through. 

Yesterday my BIL was on his way out when he saw the police cars there and an ambulance just arriving. Knowing the other neighbour who has done so much to help was not home Middle Cat went over to say she was one of the people S... used. She was asked to identify the body lying on the floor. Hopefully it was a quick death but there has to be an autopsy. At least his sister did not see him like that. 

I thought back to the last time we talked. He had, as always, phoned me at a very early hour. I had told him what he needed to do and left it at that. Now of course I wish I had spent a little longer listening to him. He was a lonely man, a very lonely man.