Why I Clean….
May 1st, 2005 at 12:59 am (Unschooling Life, Musings)
And I still hate PageMaker.
I know enough to get by with the program usually, but I don’t know enough to figure out what’s wrong when things don’t go smoothly. This annoys me.
Kenzie started the day playing with his friend across the street. She’s sweet and interesting, and she and Kenzie happen to be about the same age. The two of them usually get along fairly well, though they both feel things intensely, so there are the occasional blow ups. Today, however, was worse than usual. Her friend came over to spend the night, and they immediately formed a two-person clique, telling Kenzie they wanted to play alone, running away from him, keeping their distance, whispering secrets, telling him they didn’t want to be near him, yelling at him to “Go away!” He was heartbroken and told this to his friend’s father and the girl’s mother (who was still there visiting). He cried. He rode past them again and again on his bike, wiping tears from his eyes.
So, we talked about cliques, about how schools aren’t healthy places for children to be, so they form exclusive groups to make themselves feel like they belong. But to do this, they also have to keep people out. That’s just the way cliques function. It was difficult for him to wrap his brain around the idea. We talked about the difference between people getting together naturally, because they like each other or they have something in common, and people being thrown in together whether they like it or not, having to prove themselves over and over every day. We talked about the ways schools rank kids. We talked about emotional survival.
The conversation lasted a long time, and he seemed to understand it as well as an unschooled seven-year-old can. Hopefully, things will be back to normal tomorrow.
Kenzie spent the evening eating spaghetti and watching his father etch glass and stones. He’s looking forward to being able to etch something himself the next time they pull out the equipment.

One of Terry’s (older) etchings:
a wolf pawprint on a small geode