Introduction

from  Freedom Challenge

by Grace Llewellyn  

Soon after I published The Teenage Liberation Handbook: how to quit school and get a real life and education, I was surprised by an invitation to speak in a public high school. I walked down a locker-lined hallway for the first time since leaving my teaching career and proceeded to spend several hours discussing unschooling with a crowd of excited but skeptical teenagers. (I often use the term "unschooling." "Homeschooling" can sound like doing school at home, while the kind of homeschooling that excites me does not resemble school, and often takes place as much out in the world--museums, workplaces, riverbanks--as in the home.)

We talked of the infinite possibilities available to young people who leave school to take on the challenge of educating themselves. My audience radiated first confusion, and then amazement. I explained that unschoolers need not be controlled by the burden of soulless homework, by curriculums which seem irrelevant to their lives, by teachers who do not understand or respect them, by tests and report cards which ignore their true strengths--and even their true weaknesses. Instead, unschoolers' educations are limited only by the bounds of their own courage, resourcefulness, and imagination. . .and, admittedly, sometimes by the fears of their well-meaning parents.

Naturally, most teenagers get excited when they start to envision what this sort of freedom might look like in their own lives, and these kids were no exception. In self-conscious bursts of passion, they raised their hands and confessed their true loves: exploring forests, exploring city streets, reading Isaac Asimov, playing flutes and drums, programming computers, writing poetry. I tried to show them how possible their own dreams were, by describing the lives of actual unschooled teenagers. I told them of the photographer-marine-biologist-freestyle biker, of the autobiographer-weaver-dancer-singer, of the solo traveler who visited me during a four-month odyssey through the United States. I told them of dedicated gymnasts, writers, jugglers, scientists, naturalists, veterinary assistants, painters, computer experts, and musicians whose time and brains belonged to themselves.

The final bell rang, and most of the students hoisted their textbook-filled backpacks and went home. But several stayed and clustered around me, their eyes intense. Among them stood a young man whose voice wavered between resignation and longing. He told me his name was Michael. "I totally see what you're saying about school, how it's a waste of time," he said, "And I know there's a lot more I could learn and do on my own. But I can't do it, because I'm black. I walk into some business to get a job, they want to see my diploma, I tell them I educated myself according to my own interests, and it's over. They say, 'Right. Another dropped out nigger.'"

  Michael's lament raised enough subjects to fill a whole book--some having to do with racial issues, some not. Of course his concerns were valid. Where prejudice and discrimination exist, it's hard enough for a young black person to prove himself worthy of opportunities--even when he has been conventionally schooled. An unconventional education may indeed, at times, add yet another strike against him in the eyes of an unimaginative personnel director or scholarship foundation. But as legitimate as Michael's concern was, I think its opposite must be equally true: those who are least served by conventional schooling stand to benefit the most from trying something different. As scary as it can be to challenge the system and risk going without formal credentials, black people may--as a group--stand to benefit more than anyone else from the opportunities homeschooling can offer. (And actually, as homeschooling becomes more widely practiced, it becomes increasingly easier for homeschoolers to earn regular high school diplomas and other credentials anyway.)

In those few moments with Michael, I offered what encouragement I could squeeze in before his bus left. I reminded him how significant it might be to have the hours of eight a.m. to three p.m.--not to mention evening homework time--back in his own control. That's far more time than unschoolers need to spend on academic work, even if they hold themselves to higher standards than the snootiest private school in town. Again and again, experienced homeschooling families come up with the statement that two to three hours daily is more than enough for academics. David and Micki Colfax--whose homeschooled boys went on to Harvard--point out in their book Homeschooling For Excellence that in school, children spend only about twenty percent of their time "on task," or actually engaged in academic learning. In contrast, unschoolers discover that without compromising their educations, they can also spend four or five hours each day on art, sport, job, hobby, business, volunteer work, writing letters or song lyrics, whatever--and that's before the dismissal bell rings at the school down the street.

Wise unschoolers use some of this time as an investment into future work that will support them financially and emotionally. Some work jobs, acquiring money and experience with which to later launch their own business. Some actually start tiny shoestring businesses during childhood, building gradually. Some apprentice, volunteer, or intern with experts in fields that interest them. . .and this experience builds a résumé and sometimes leads directly to an interesting job offer. Some unschoolers build portfolios showing off their skills. Many go to college--and their good track record makes it increasingly easy for others to follow. In fact, many colleges are particularly excited about admitting unschoolers, and of course no employer asks about your high school diploma when you wave your B.S. in his face. Indeed, it has become obvious to me that unschooling allows kids an advantage in preparing for their futures.

So, I pointed out to Michael that if he chose to unschool himself with the goals of both having a fantastic time and preparing himself for adult work, chances are he would never have to walk into the depressing situation he predicted.

Later I thought back to the conversation, and I wished that I had also been able to say, simply, "Well, Michael, black people homeschool too." But at the time I didn't know whether that was even true.

Now I know it is true, and that many black people homeschool to save themselves from a system which limits and destroys them, to reclaim their own lives, families, and culture, to create for themselves something very different from conventional schooling. I also know that the numbers of these people increase every year, and--especially when I remember my first year of teaching--I hope the numbers will continue to increase, by hundreds and thousands. I remember the horrifying smell of human energy and talent rotting in all schools, any schools, but especially in the mostly black, badly funded schools where I substitute taught in Oakland, California. I remember a Friday when the school secretary told me to plan on coming back Monday because the chemistry teacher liked to take Fridays and Mondays off. I remember walking past vice principals' offices that were bulging with young men who bad been kicked out of class. I remember the soft eager eyes of preschoolers and the hard cynical eyes of high school seniors. I remember the principal who introduced me as a long-term sub for a choir teacher, telling the class it didn't matter what they thought of my teaching, the state had given me a certificate (though in English, not music) and that's all they needed to know.

Back then I didn't know enough to announce to my students that there was an altogether different and completely legal option called "homeschooling," let alone that people in their own communities were busy inventing and adapting this option to fit their own needs. Ironically, though, it was the desperation of that year in Oakland that first got me to thinking about what it would take to start a very tiny, very inexpensive private school. I wanted to keep teaching kids without squashing them the way regular schools seemed inevitably to do. That thinking led me from one publication to the next, until I had a copy of John Holt's Instead of Education.

With that book, I discovered the realm of unschooling, and my life changed. My mind opened to new possibilities and a deeper understanding of my own childhood and adolescence. For the first time I understood that learning and being taught are not the same thing. Although I did teach a couple more years in a private college-preparatory middle school, I eventually quit in favor of the work I do now, spreading the word that kids can learn better and grow into brighter, more competent, livelier human beings outside of school.  

While I've worked on this book, people have often asked me why black people homeschool. Having only communicated with about twenty families in the process of editing this book, I'm hardly the expert. What I do know is that homeschoolers, in general, are an extremely diverse bunch. People, in general, homeschool so that children can learn more naturally and develop their unique talents. They homeschool to lessen the possibility of children being shot with a gun at school. They homeschool to maintain close family relationships. They homeschool to avoid the brutal school socialization process, which often turns thoughtful, unique children into rude conformists. They homeschool to honor their children's individual learning styles, which are not always compatible with sitting in a desk and shutting up. They homeschool to provide more challenging and thorough academic educations. They homeschool because they are tired of the racist, sexist propaganda that masquerades as truth in history textbooks. They homeschool to break down artificial barriers between life and learning. They homeschool for other reasons too, concerning health, religion, geography, and self-esteem.

As the writers in this book show, African Americans homeschool for all these reasons and then some. Some homeschool because they see that racial integration in the schools has not always worked for their benefit. (Among other things, they feel that it has disrupted community life and thrust children into hate-filled classrooms where few people encourage or hope for their success.) Some homeschool because they see that schools perpetuate institutionalized racism. Some homeschool because they are tired of curriculums emphasizing Europe and excluding Africa. Some homeschool because their children are overwhelmingly treated as problems in schools, and quickly labeled Attention Deficit Disordered or Learning Disabled. Some homeschool because black kids drop out of school at much higher rates than white kids. Some homeschool because they want to continue the Civil Rights struggle for equal educational rights, and they feel that they can best do so by reclaiming their right to help their own children develop fully--rather than by working to get them equal access to conventional schooling.

People also asked me if I noticed differences in black and white homeschooling styles. Again, all I can say with authority is that diversity reigns, no matter what color you're talking about. Some homeschoolers use expensive prepackaged curriculums, though many families who try this approach gradually relax into a more natural method using fewer textbooks and more "real books," exploring outdoors and in their communities as well as completing academic work at home. Some families de-emphasize books and emphasize learning through interesting volunteer positions and internships. Some very successfully allow their children to simply follow their greatest interests until they are experts in beekeeping or library science or computer programming or newsletter publishing. Some enroll in community classes and attend lectures. Some travel. Each Family figures out, through trial and error, what works best for them.

Several African American homeschoolers have told me that black people are much more likely than whites to emphasize academics and maintain a structured curriculum. And their observations were indeed borne out by my contact with some of the essayists and potential essayists For this book. It seems that this state of affairs reflects, at least in part, the same concern Michael expressed to me when I spoke in his high school. If more black homeschoolers (than white) follow a structured curriculum, it's not necessarily because they value conformity or because they don't trust their children to acquire the skills they need to become happy, well-educated adults. Rather, for obvious reasons, they don't trust society to recognize their kids' intelligence without benefit of, at least, a list of textbooks completed or classes taken through an academic summer program.

I have to admit that from my position, I can't help but hope that this somewhat school-like approach to education is a temporary trend among black homeschoolers. Where a strong emphasis on conventional academics is based on fear, I hope that this fear will give way to the joyous confidence that many white unschoolers enjoy. (Largely, but not completely, what this boils down to is that I fervently hope society will get a lot saner and make it easier for black homeschoolers to feel that it's safe for them to give their kids more freedom.)

In my travels, correspondence, and reading I've noticed again and again that the brightest and most competent homeschooled kids are the ones who have been given the most freedom and support to pursue their own interests seriously. They may not be the most "well-rounded" in the conventional sense--they may not have absorbed equal parts of European and American literature, Eurocentrically written history, essay-writing, textbook mathematics, basic competency in a foreign language, a smattering of artistic or musical knowledge, biology, chemistry, and physics. But they do usually have a broad, relaxed, overall understanding of the world. (Graduate students often suffer from overspecialized academia; I've rarely seen that quality in an unschooler.) Furthermore, these kids often attain a serious level of expertise in the one or two areas they love best, going far beyond schools' mediocre version of "excellence." So it is my hope that all homeschoolers will increasingly choose to take full advantage of their potential freedom.

Is this a book just for African Americans? Absolutely not. As far as I know, it is the first collection of essays written entirely by homeschooling parents and kids of any color. (There are a few other excellent homeschooling books which include essays by parents and/or kids.) The essayists address a myriad of classic homeschooling issues, relevant and informative for people of any ethnic background--such as socialization, learning from experts in a specific subject instead of from schoolteachers, learning to read with and without parental instruction, doing science.

I also hope that experienced white homeschoolers by~ the thousands will read this book. Some of the essayists shed a bright light on race relations within the homeschooling movement, and they make it clear that we all have a lot to learn about the consequences of our attitudes and actions. If we make a sincere effort to listen and understand, certainly it will be easier for us to stop being part of the problem that homeschoolers of color face.

You may have a particular educational concern that is not discussed much in these pages--for instance, perhaps your children have been labeled dyslexic and you are wondering about the pros, cons, and possible methods of homeschooling them. Though this book doesn't address every homeschooling issue in detail, there's a good chance that some other homeschooling literature will speak to any concern you have. White people do still form the vast majority of the homeschooling movement, so perhaps it's inevitable that some of your inspiration and ideas will come from their stories. I highly recommend Growing Without Schooling magazine, because it offers in-depth autobiographical letters from readers on almost every imaginable aspect of homeschooling, including single parent homeschooling; homeschooling kids with various labels including ADD and ADHD; educating spouses and relatives about homeschooling; homeschooling as African Americans, Asians, and Latinos; and finding ways to give children safe access to the adult world. See the resource listing in Appendix III for more information on this and other recommended books and magazines.

One particular concern which isn't discussed much in this book is homeschooling children who have been labeled Attention Deficit Disordered. Again, Growing Without Schooling and other publications address this issue, but I also wanted to mention that one of the original writers for this book, Monica Satterwhite, had wonderful success removing her so-called "ADD/Future Menace to Society" son from school. Unfortunately, she felt forced by family circumstances to return him to school, and therefore, despite my pleas, felt unqualified to contribute an essay. But in an early letter, she wrote, 

When Sean was in kindergarten, I was receiving at least one call a week from his school, telling me that my five-year-old was a "menace to society." After getting through that year, we began to experience the disaster of the public school system. Two months into the school year, Sean's teacher informed us that Sean was going to fail the first grade and that he needed special education. I felt that even if he did improve, his teacher had already made her judgment and that he would not be treated fairly. Well, I removed him from there and next came Catholic school. There, I was told that Sean had Attention Deficit Disorder and we should put him on Ritalin. He was also given an IQ test and we discovered that he had one of the highest scores in the school. Imagine that--well, we medicated our child and sent him away for the nuns to handle him. This went fairly well until about the third grade. He began to get into fights and all type of trouble as he'd walk home from school. . .While looking for yet another school to put him in, I came across a book by a man named Jawanza Kunjufu, called The Conspiracy to Destroy Black Boys. After reading that, I was convinced that no school could ever treat him fairly or teach him the way he needed to be taught.

Monica went on to explain how they decided to try homeschooling, and concluded her letter by saying, "It definitely has not been easy but God has blessed us. Sean no longer takes Ritalin, he's a self-proclaimed vegetarian, and he's doing great work." When Sean did return to school, he was stronger and better able to cope. "It was nothing like the public school situation we had before," Monica says, "I would like to think that the increased confidence and self esteem that he acquired through homschooling contributed to the change. By the way, he made honor roll twice this year! His first time ever!  I know homeschooling works, and if I could, I'd do it all over again.  

The territory of unschooling is wide, welcoming, unrushed, and forgiving. Ironically, though, the entry gate may seem narrow and forbidding. Many families are able to decide to homeschool because they feel "qualified" to do so: one or both parents has a college degree and, surprisingly often, a school-teaching background. They begin in a fairly unimaginative "school at home" way, with the parent-teachers modeling their procedures after their own memories of school, buying or creating a conventional academic curriculum, giving assignments and leading daily lessons--confident that their own academic background will ensure a proper education for their kids.

The real truth dawns on them some months later: a parent's academic background is only one of many factors that influence homeschooling success. Certainly, it's less important than a determination to help their children knock on doors, make phone calls, read bulletin boards, write letters, use the library, and otherwise access learning opportunities. In fact, the more a parent clings to a sense of importance and authority due to her own academic background, the more likely she is to blindly get in her children's way, pompously cramming her own skills down their gullets and failing to see the seeds of their individual curiosities. And so, in many homeschooling families, school-at-home gives way to a more radical, exciting, and sustainable educational process, in which the parent backs off and offers support rather than heavy-handed direction. Children are encouraged to follow their own interests, in their own way, and since this often leads them out of their parents' realm of knowledge, the family quickly finds out just how unnecessary is parental academic expertise. There are always other teachers to be found, in the form of neighbors, community-based classes, library books, on-line forums, and relatives.

All a parent really needs to homeschool successfully, an African American father pointed out to me, is the motivation of love. The stronger and truer the love, the better the parents will see their children's genius, and the more enthusiastically they'll help their children find other situations where they can blossom. None of this requires full-time attention or damaging self-sacrifice. In many homeschooling families, teenagers and older children educate themselves while both parents hold regular jobs.

In fact, judging by the hundreds of letters I've received from unschooling teenagers, I would go so far as to say that when older children or teenagers want badly enough to educate themselves, they already have all they need. Even if their parents can offer no more support than to give permission to unschool, they can succeed. Even without parental help, determined kids can seek out all sorts of mentors, guides, and learning situations; and many, of course, use library books, textbooks, computers, or other resources to teach themselves. Most younger children do need somewhat more adult guidance--though, as the essays in this book demonstrate, not so much that their parents must necessarily give up their own interests or careers.

Of course it helps--not just for homeschooling, but for all of life--to have (or build) a strong community. Maya Gounard learns not only from her parents, but also from numerous other adults who live in her houseboat neighborhood. The Cloughs' neighbors built a barn for them, and Adam Clough helped; later, when those neighbors moved to Costa Rica they invited Adam to come stay with them. Sunshine Lewis and her brothers learn about astronomy, Spanish, architecture, and chess from adult friends of their family. Erin Tackoor has special lessons with her aunt once a week. Detra Rose Hood has worked with other African American homeschooling families--despite their ideological differences--to set up science classes taught by volunteer experts, which her son Tunu enjoys.

Anyway, the problem with all of this comes at the beginning: that gate into the land of homeschooling, which many people perceive as narrow and formidable. With the false confidence provided by a background of academic success, middle class college educated parents at least have the guts to walk through that gate, after which they embark on an unexpected adventure and discover true education. Conversely, working class families without college backgrounds often lack the confidence to walk through the gate in the first place. School officials, relatives, spouses, even children can shatter frail hopes when they accuse: "You? Homeschool your kids? Didn't you drop out of high school? Don't you remember how badly you did in history and science? You never even took algebra! Your spelling is atrocious!" Often, I believe, parents who would have no trouble with the real work of homeschooling never even consider it as an option, simply because they've been thoroughly indoctrinated by the school system to believe that A) they are stupid, and B) without academic success, they have no business homeschooling their own children. The sooner these lies are blasted and the vicious cycle halted, the smarter and happier this world will become.

I think back to my day as guest rabble-mouser at Garfield High School. Michael would be around twenty years old by now, and I wonder where he is. It's too late for him to quit high school, but many of us have learned that it's possible to unschool at any age--to detoxify your mind, soul, and self-esteem from its many years of institutionalized battering, to unlearn the lies. So I hope that he, and other adults, might still discover this book and use it as a stepping stone to greater freedom, joy, and power in the continuation of their lifelong educations.  

And, of course, I pray that families, children, and teenagers of all colors and backgrounds will not just read, but use this book. As a caucasian committed to educational freedom and excellence, my deepest motive for editing this book is hope for a brighter world for all of us. Young people who do not have to sacrifice themselves to unimaginative busywork and a standardized educational agenda can more likely flourish, develop their unique talents and voices, and give the gift of themselves to the world--their poetry, their scientific discoveries, their buildings, their music, their inventions, their autobiographies. It is a blessing, each month, to receive my favorite unschooling magazines in the mail and to read letters and essays describing kids' vastly diverse, impassioned lives. Even just knowing about each of these kids makes my own world bigger and more beautiful, and as they grow up and develop further, we all reap rewards. What a much greater gift to the world it will be, when children of all cultural backgrounds and races grow up free from schools' narrow shaping, and instead remain true to their own unique natures.