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.

Friday, March 9, 2012

146



We're traveling today, presently in Alabama. We stopped for lunch at a favorite pizza chain, and the boys got coloring pages. I remember talking to a friend about coloring and her own kindergartener, who attended an Imagination School. Her son and his classmates would get worksheets with words and pictures on them, and they were supposed to practice writing words at the top and then color the picture on the bottom according to the directions. My friend's son had gotten marked down for coloring outside the lines, and the teacher had suggested they spend some time at home practicing. "It seems like he just rushes through it," she had said. My friend found this frustrating. Her son felt angry about it.

For a long while, Woody was wild and bold with his coloring, seemingly impervious to the lines. It never bothered me or him, though a couple of times when he colored with his cousin when he was 4 and 5, she made comments about his "scribble scrabble." Today, I noticed Woody for the first time coloring with careful attention to the edges. He developed his own technique of working on the edges slowly first, then working on the interior. He also wanted, for the first time, for his coloring to match the characters as they were pictured in the menu.

It was as if he suddenly wanted precision and accuracy in his coloring, whereas before he was after something else all together. But it came about all on its own, no anger and frustration needed.