Wednesday, 14 January 2009

Unschoolers playing school

It is when the kiddos manage to create opportunities for themselves to be off in their own little world that they then function amazingly together. The two of them have this symbiotic relationship that feeds off each other. That’s a given I suppose, since they are siblings who hang out with each other all day (and night) long, every day - but it is a joy to watch nonetheless. Especially since, believe it or not, it’s not all sweetness and light here at the home of wonderful happenings! Shocking, I know. A parallel blog might be called “The Screaming Happens” and there would be no problem documenting on a daily basis (though the photos would be a bit blurry and hard to look at).

One of the setups they continue to return to is “playing school”, or at least playing their own beautifully warped perception of school. Sometimes Effie takes on the dual role of pupil and teacher, assigning random marks to things and praising Fergus’ every move. Last night’s school session included participating in geology, reading, writing and gym classes and, at times, all of these “subjects” mashed into one. As well, Fergus appeared to invent some sort of assignment in-tray out of the dump truck. But the most unusual thing about all of this was that it did not immediately follow some message-driven television program involving school the way, for example, English accents and great quantities of tea follow viewings of period dramas. The only program that was watched last night was The Hardy Boys, in deference to Gillian reclaiming her youth (apparently, and I did not know this, Shaun Cassidy and Parker Stevenson were once viewed as dreamy!).

I imagine whenever schoolers play “unschool”, a detention is in order. Or a dunce cap, or suspension? Or maybe I got that all wrong. Maybe that is what recess is all about? No that’s got whistles, buzzers and bells attached to it too. My memories of elementary school recess, though I’m certain I enjoyed it for the most part, are of hiding from girls in a corner of the schoolyard. At lunchtime I got to play and go across the street to my house and eat - woot hoot!!!


Ronnie said...

OMG, Shaun Cassidy! I used to squeal with girlish delight whenever he came on screen, and to this day I consider his "Da Doo Ron Ron" the original.

"Oh, I met her on a Monday..."

memet said...

It was Parker Stevenson for me! In my head only perhaps (I'ld have to watch HB againto see), he was the "dark brooding one"-- and I could not see why everyone oggled and cooed over Shawn...

dharmamama said...

Thank you, thank you for posting a pic of The Day My Butt Went Psycho - I had no idea such a thing existed! I am imagining Seth's delight - he, who, *every time* anyone says butt, for any reason, including but, laughs a little. He has said, "Pretty much any time anytime anyone says butt, it's funny. I don't think it will ever be *not* funny." Hooray for butt books!

I was a Parker girl myself - Shaun seems so... immature. tsk

Rebecca said...


I bought a Tiger Beat just for the Parker centerfold and then taped it up inside my closet because I didn't want anyone to actually see it if they came into my room. Thank goodness I didn't get into the Bay City Rollers. Ai yi yi yi.