My son Woody turned six in November of 2011. That would have been the kindergarten year for most kids, 180 days that mark the beginning of the school career. But Woody did his learning in the big, wide, beautiful world, without school being a part of it.

I'm Teresa Honey, and I kept this blog to document this time in my son's life, to share pictures and stories with far-away friends and relatives, and to add ours to the many stories of families living rich, engaging, loving lives with learning happening all the time and in many forms, totally inseparable from every other part of being human.

Here you'll find 180 or so learning moments recorded from August, 2011 to April, 2012 in the life of a 5-turned-6-year-old radically unschooled kid.

Wednesday, November 30, 2011


Let me tell you, you will underestimate the extent of your six-year-old's action-movie cliche vocabulary until the moment you get him or her an R/C Cobra helicopter.

He is cracking me up playing with this thing. First of all, he can actually fly it, while Daddy Honey and I "demonstrated" crash landings before handing over the controls to Woody, thinking we likely had made a mistake and the thing would be too hard for him. I actually managed a liftoff and then flew full speed backwards into my own hands. Woody crashed once, but then pulled from the mysterious fibers of  being a seemingly innate skill for coordinating impossibly subtle and independent finger movements with the visual language of a hovering machine.

I am amazed. And I am laughing. This is what I am hearing as I see this little gray wasp buzzing around my house:

"Leave it to the Air Force!"

After a lovely take-off and hover: "That's how it's done, baby."

Before a launch from the countertop: "Let's see what this baby can do."

And my favorite, at the touch of a soft and perfect landing: "Now that was a hero's landing."

I am so tickled at his pride at having mastered this. He offered that he thinks he is so good at this because he is so good at video games. Maybe, I said. Whatever the wellspring, I haven't found it in myself. This might be the first of many, many, many things that come easily to Woody while I struggle. You wouldn't think that feels good, but it does.