Reclaiming an Unschooling Sense of Adventure

I’ve been thinking about maths... high school maths.

The other day I wrote about my unschooling high schooler. I told you how my sixteen year old daughter Charlotte feels like she is drowning in maths. The exercises for each of the maths topics in her course are never-ending. They take a long time to complete. Which would be okay if it was interesting and relevant. But it’s not. So what’s the point? Because she really wants to learn maths?

I did say, “Charlotte definitely wants to do maths.”

I’m been thinking about those words and I’m no longer sure they are true. Oh yes, she voluntarily learns maths. She even chose how she wants to learn it. She asked me to give her a subscription to a particular online course. And I didn’t protest. Or even question her choice. It’s up to her what’s she learns. Though I admit I felt secretly relieved. I have to prove Charlotte is learning maths for homeschooling registration purposes. An online course provides lots of records. It’s very convenient. Yes, I want the words, “Charlotte definitely wants to do maths," to be true.

So does she really want to learn any more maths? I think she’s got to saturation point. But being Charlotte, which means she has a good dose of Elvis stubbornness, she ploughs on regardless.

“Why don’t you leave maths for a while?” I suggest. Charlotte frowns. I can see she is worrying about ‘getting behind’. Oh how I hate those words. Getting behindwhat? Structured courses tend to teach our children that certain things have to be learnt in a certain order by a certain time. Otherwise you ‘get behind’. Yes, the weekly report doesn’t look too good when you ‘get behind’.

I don’t like the lessons Charlotte is learning from her maths course. And I'm not talking about numbers. While she is busy watching video lessons, filling in worksheets, being rewarded with certificates and waiting for weekly reports to arrive, her motivation to learn is driven by the words 'getting behind.’ She is not learning because of interest or need. It's not self-directed learning. In my eyes, it's not real learning. I thought we'd left fulfilling other peoples expectations behind years ago. It seems we haven’t.

“It’s nearly the end of the year,” I say. “You’ve done enough maths for one year. Have a break.”

I’d like to see Charlotte step back from maths for a while. Allow time to rekindle her interest in the subject… or not. Do something else. Live life without the stress of having to keep up, hanging over her head. Because is it really necessary she studies maths right at this moment?

I considered looking for some everyday experiences that might teach Charlotte the maths she needs to know. And then I realised no everyday experience will teach her the kind of maths she is battling her way through. We don’t use higher maths in our regular lives. If we don’t use it, we don’t need it. So why do it?

Because maths is a logical subject. It helps with thinking. It is good for the brain. But then again, so are a lot of other things.

You never know when you might need maths. It can always be learnt when it’s needed. It's never too late. And it will be learnt quicker and make more sense when there's a reason for learning it.

Because the Board of Studies says maths must be learnt (or taught). I think this is a stumbling block for a lot of people. We do need to satisfy registration requirements. But then again, the Board of Studies are reluctant to register homeschooled students as year 11 and year 12 students. They prefer to classify them as year 10 extension. And to me, that says no higher maths is needed.

So I think Charlotte has done enough maths. For now. Maybe forever. We'll see. I want to help her get back her sense of adventure, a desire to pursue learning purely for its own sake.

"Read a few books. Find a patch of sunshine and lie in it. Draw a dragon. Write a story. Watch a DVD. Run down the bush track. Catch a bus into town. Do nothing but think. Smile."

Charlotte smiles.

Sometimes, without realising it, we can get re-entangled in the world's expectations and ideals. It creeps up on us. Sometimes we need to stop, have a close look at our children, listen, and reassess. We need to help them reclaim their unschooling sense of adventure.