Do Unschooled Kids (and Parents) Need Time Away From Their Devices?
If we conclude that good mental, physical, and spiritual health requires silence, nature, real people, and exercise, what does this mean for our unschooling kids? Should we limit their screen time? Should we force them off their devices and make them exercise and spend time with us? Perhaps we should announce we’re having a screen-free day, and everyone must spend time hiking through the bush. Or won’t that work?
When we research a question, we often know the answer we’re looking for. We just want someone to back up what we’ve already decided. So, if we find an opposing opinion, we move on quickly and search for something more aligned with our beliefs. We’ll find it if we look long enough because it’s possible to find evidence for every belief online. Although very convenient, this might not be helpful. If we search the Internet with preconceived ideas about what we want to discover, will we judge anything fairly?
I always pass over negative articles about limiting kids’ screen time. I don’t consider the arguments. I don’t want to know because I know what type of person writes such things: they’re not unschoolers.
Recently, I’ve been adding silence to my days, like walking with the dogs without the background noise of a podcast. My mind, tight with information overload tension, has had a chance to relax out of its rigid patterns and ponder more deeply. It’s been thinking without the aid of the latest must-read article or trending video.
It was difficult at first to turn off my phone and be silent. I wondered if I was missing out on something essential online. But I realised we don’t need most of the information the Internet bombards us with. All it does is keep our minds so busy we have no time or space to consider what is really true or false.
As I’ve been strolling through the bush listening to the cockatoos screeching instead of a human voice coming from the other side of the world, I’ve been turning over this thought: perhaps we shouldn’t be on our devices all the time. If we’re tied to the Internet are we truly free? Could we need more silence instead of more information in our lives? And what about opportunities to exercise? How about time spent face to face with the members of our families and our friends? Is time outside in nature essential for our souls?
If we conclude that good mental, physical, and spiritual health requires silence, nature, real people, and exercise, what does this mean for our unschooling kids? Should we limit their screen time? Should we force them off their devices and make them exercise and spend time with us? Perhaps we should announce we’re having a screen-free day, and everyone must spend time hiking through the bush.
You know what? I don’t think any of that will work. I once tried to force my daughter to exercise. It was a painful experience. I soon learnt that it’s not respectful or productive to control kids. So, I never limited screen time or forced my kids outside, but I can imagine the tension in families when parents start trying to control these and other activities.
So what do we do?
Could the answer begin with a parent’s example? Could it have a lot to do with the connections between parent and child? How about the rich, nurturing atmosphere we build up within our homes?
Could encouraging kids to develop practices that are essential for their good health have everything to do with unschooling after all?
I’d love to hear your thoughts!
Something to Listen to
Of course, the Internet gives us access to a lot of good stuff, like The Ladies Fixing the Worldpodcast. Why not listen to the latest episode, and then be silent while you ponder the ideas and thoughts we shared?
Some Posts to Read
What if We'd Like Our Kids to Be Early Risers?
Sometimes when I write a post about our typical unschooling days, a reader stops by and says, “Oh, Sue, your mornings sound delightful! I wish my family would get up early so we could get a good start on the day. I can’t get my kids out of bed. They just grumble and roll over and go back to sleep. What can I do?” Now, this might not be you, but if it is, what do you do? Perhaps you do nothing. I’m describing our typical unschooling days. They suit us. We get up early so we can enjoy running along
Encouraging Each Other to Do Difficult Things
The other morning while I was running with our dog Quinn, we met a man ambling along with a huge roly-poly overweight dog. There they were on the track just ahead of us. Instantly, I came to a halt and grabbed Quinn’s collar. The man took hold of his dog and tried to stop too. But he couldn’t. His dog was determined to greet Quinn nose to nose. It edged closer and closer to us despite the man’s efforts to pull it back. “He’s friendly,” reassured the man. But Quinn isn’t, I thought. Our shar-pei / Great Dane is wary
A Balanced and Productive Unschool Life
It’s good to read stories about unschoolers, isn’t it? What do they think? What do they do? What kind of people are they? Stories about real unschoolers bring unschooling alive. But there is something better than reading stories. And that’s listening to unschoolers themselves. In this week’s podcast: A Balanced and Productive Unschool Life, I’m chatting with my teenage daughter, Sophie who has lots of her own stories, ideas and opinions to share. We start with these conversation prompts: Something we’ve been thinking about Something we’ve found difficult Something we’ve enjoyed Something we’ve read or listened to Something we’ve watched
Can We Force Kids to Exercise?
Yesterday morning, my daughter Sophie approached me with her arms outstretched. “Can I have a hug, please, Mum?” “Oh no, no!” I said backing away. “It’s far too hot to hug.” “You have to hug us, Mum,” said Gemma-Rose with a grin. “That’s what mothers do. They always have to be available to hug their children.” Yes, sometimes mothers have to do difficult things. I have to hug my children on a very hot and sticky Australian summer’s day. I started episode 88 of my podcast with this story. And then I went on to talk about: A place of
Images
Sometimes, unschooled kids are willing to get up at 4:30 am to experience the beauty of the sun and the mist rising over the river.