When I was a young mother, I wore a t-shirt with the words:
“The hand that rocks the cradle rocks the boat.” The phrase put a spin on a
19th century poem entitled “The Hand That Rocks the Cradle Rules the World”
by American poet William Ross Wallace. I understood at the time that
becoming a mother was increasing my desire to create change in the world,
although I didn’t know where that would lead me. I had already realized
that, as the feminist movement espoused, the personal is political. I had
already challenged a few assumptions about how life was supposed to work –
including rejecting both the style in which I’d been parented and the institution of school as an effective vehicle for education.
As much as I didn’t like the rules of
the status quo, I also didn’t like labels – even the ones that accompanied
my rebellion. In fact, I’ve fought my whole adult life to avoid descriptions
of myself that involve isms and ists. I dislike being referred to as an
environmentalist, an activist, a feminist, a humanist, a homeschooler, a
radical unschooler, a life learner…although each of those words describes an
aspect of my life and work. As helpful as such labels can be to connect with
others who think similarly, they can also constrict, separate, polarize,
alienate and confuse. And because they name groups with a specific set of
“membership requirements,” they help perpetuate stereotypes.
School is where we learn to sort,
segment and label in that manner, where knowledge is broken up in to subjects
and students are grouped by age and their ability to perform on tests. And the
post-secondary world has turned segmentation of knowledge into an art. So I
suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised the first time an academic feminist
scorned me because of my advocacy of life learning and its apparent support
for the stay-at-home mom. However, it had never occurred to me that unschooling and feminism were mutually exclusive. In fact, I am quite certain
that it, in all its label-defying glory, is the ultimate feminist
act, for a variety of reasons on which I’ll elaborate in this article. But
over the years, I’ve encountered many people – including some
self-doubting life learning feminist moms – for whom the picture isn’t
quite that clear.
I wasn’t always quite so sure of
myself and once upon a time was even apt to wonder if my outlook on education
was at odds with some of my other progressive stances. That changed when I
began to observe young children and how little respect they and their
caregivers receive.
I trained to be a teacher in 1969 but
realized after just a few months that neither I nor most of the students
wanted to be in the classroom. So I quit teaching. Researching a more suitable
career and curious about how children learn (something that hadn’t been a
major part of the teachers’ college curriculum), I spent some time working
at a daycare center.
Daycare centers were not that prevalent
in the early 1970s, but my developing feminism led me to believe they were
crucial if society was to move beyond the nuclear family and its smothering
hierarchy. But I was astonished at how undervalued and underpaid the entirely
female staff was, especially for work that was so stressful and so
important…and at what uninspiring places the centers were. I am a questioner
by nature, and that experience inspired a lot of questions: Why was our
society apparently undervaluing this work? Was it because women were doing it?
Or did we value the care of the next generation so little? What is
“liberated” about paying other women a minimal wage to look after our
children so that we can have high paying careers? Does one have to have a paid
job in order to be a feminist? Why do women have to embrace the male model in
order to challenge patriarchy? Is there a third way?
My husband Rolf and I soon chose to
begin our family. Once pregnant, I struggled to understand why feminism wanted
me to make a choice between my rights and those of my future children. We
decided to create a life that would affirm the rights of all members of our
family. And thus it became my life’s work to advocate for children’s right
to be raised and educated with respect and without the “isms” – sexism,
racism, classism, ageism, consumerism and other elitist or destructive social
influences.
Motherhood focused my early political
consciousness. It helped me understand how the choices I make in my personal
life are linked to those I make on a larger scale. I remember thinking that a
mother’s body is the first environment for human life, so I’d better
ensure I was providing a clean, nurturing place for my unborn child to grow,
as well as ensuring a safe, respectful world for her to live in after birth.
And that’s when I began to weave change-making into my life.
At the personal level, one of the things
this meant was that our children would learn without school. And so my husband
and I set about creating circumstances to allow that to happen. With the
panache of youth, we started the family business that publishes this magazine,
thinking we would all stay at home together for the next decade or so, happily
living, learning and making money together. While the fairy tale didn’t turn
out exactly as hoped, our lives taught our children – by experience, which
is the best kind of learning – about making a living, about working out
differences, about the need to be critical of the power structures in society
and in the microcosm of family and personal relationships...and much more.
In some ways, what I was living has
since been defined as “empowered mothering” by York University Women’s
Studies professor and founder of the Association for Research on Mothering
Andrea O’Reilly. However, I don’t identify with this label any more than
any others because O’Reilly’s stance is woman-centered, rather than
child-centered. She describes empowered mothering as using the role of mother
to challenge systems that smother women’s choice, autonomy and agency. And
that seems to leave out children’s choice, autonomy and agency. Dismantling
patriarchy is crucial to creating a whole society but we can’t accomplish
that by ignoring the rights of another group of people.
Perhaps O’Reilly and others in the educational
industry think that our public schools are taking care of the kids. But
they’re not. As I wrote in my book Challenging Assumptions in Education,
our public school systems perpetuate social hierarchies, disempower children,
coerce them – supposedly for their own good – and encourage a destructive
level of consumerism and consumption. Furthermore, they are not democratic
because they don’t allow children and young people to control their choices
and their daily lives. School teaches submission to power based on size, age,
intellect and sometimes ability to bully, and there are race, gender and class
biases, and even sexual harassment. The very structure of schools delivers a
hidden socioeconomic curriculum of standardization, competition and top-down
management by experts.
In short, schools – and society in general –
treat children the way women don’t want to be treated. They don’t trust
children to control their own lives, to keep themselves safe and to make their
own decisions. In this way, feminism and life learning are one and the same
because they trust people to take the paths that suit them best.
Aside from allowing academic freedom, life learning
is about living more mindfully – acting altruistically (instead of earning
gold stars or the approval of authority figures), respecting individuals for
who they are, overturning discrimination, being aware of and remediating the
conflicts inherent in our society, working cooperatively, and learning about
and improving the world by living in and acting on it.
Life learning parents care deeply about children’s
choice, autonomy and agency. They respect young people’s right to make their
own decisions (within parameters that address their physical and emotional
safety, of course). They understand that when children are part of a
community, they have an interest in making that community function well,
taking responsibility for their actions and contributing to the group.
One of the stereotypes about life learning that
results in feminist criticism is that of too much togetherness – children
who are home alone with mom all the time, tied to the umbilical cord or the
apron strings. On the surface, that’s based on ignorance. But aside from the
fact that life learning kids typically spend more time in their communities
exposed to a more diverse range of people and experiences than kids in school,
the apron strings criticism denigrates the value of the mother-child
relationship. Being an activist of any sort is more than resisting; it’s
also about providing positive alternatives. Parenting practices like
cosleeping, prolonged breastfeeding and family-based education are powerful
and nurturing alternatives, which provide the early security that leads to
independence.
One of the questions I asked almost 40 years ago –
the one about paying for childcare in order to have a career and retain the
feminist label – is still on my mind. These days, some feminists are working
to solve that conundrum through the use of tax credits or other methods of
financially rewarding caregiving parents; others believe higher quality
childcare, workplace reform and better pay for childcare workers is the
solution.
But there is, as I mused so many years ago, a third
way. What if we overturned the male model of success that feminism adopted in
creating equal opportunity for women? If we reject the idea that success is
only about money, we can forge new attitudes toward what’s important in
life. Challenging the notion that feminism relates only to equal opportunity
within the workplace and can only be obtained by a full-time paying career is
controversial, but there is a growing movement that questions the tradition
that well-being is based totally on economics. As I wrote recently Natural Life
Magazine, the Genuine Progress Indicator is one tool that has been
developed to factor caregiving, pollution and other positives and negatives
into the accounting that we know as GDP. One of the proponents of that idea is
feminist and environmentalist Marilyn Waring. The author of the book If
Women Counted, she was one of the first to suggest that the GDP sustains
the institutionalized enslavement of women by focusing solely on production
and consumption in the market sphere, thereby rendering women’s unpaid work
invisible.
Taking the notion further, Australian academic,
author and social commentator Susan Maushart asserts that motherhood needs to
be at the center of human society, from which all social and economic life
should spin. Society needs to “acknowledge that bearing and raising children
is not some pesky, peripheral activity we engage in, but the whole point,”
she says. Warehousing kids in daycare or school so mothers can get on with
what they see as their real lives is not part of that vision, but we need to
find ways to ensure economic security for women of all classes, and extend the
vision to include fathers as well.
It has been said that feminism is the radical notion
that women are people. Even more radical, I would suggest, is the notion that
was printed on a t-shirt my young daughters once shared: “Kids are people
too.” At this point in history, allowing them to live and learn in the real
world, unfettered by the discrimination inherent in compulsory schooling, is
the best way to honor that idea. We need to find ways to make that possible
without diminishing anyone else’s rights. Then we will truly be on the way
to creating a more egalitarian society.
Learn More
Challenging
Assumptions in Education by Wendy Priesnitz (2000 and 2008, The
Alternate Press)
Feminist Mothering by Andrea O’Reilly, ed
(2008, State University of New York Press)
Mother Outlaws by Andrea O’Reilly, ed
(2004, Women’s Press)
The Maternal Is Political: Women Writers at the
Intersection of Motherhood and Social Change by Shari MacDonald Strong,
ed (Seal Press, 2008)
A Sense of Self: Listening to Homeschooled
Adolescent Girls by Susannah Sheffer (Boynton/Cook, 1997)
The Price of Motherhood: Why the Most Important
Job in the World is Still the Least Valued by Ann Crittenden (Holt, 2002)