The past year has seen a dramatic shift in Númenor and Ithilien.
Sure, they’re bigger. And they speak more conventional English now. But all that is trifling. I’m talking about a big, fundamental change.
As unschooled kids, they pretty much run wild through their lives. They do whatever they want to do, and as their parents, teachers, and facilitators, we try to stay out of their way and provide them with resources and opportunities. And last spring, that was all that was happening.
But as the mornings turned cooler and the scent of woodsmoke began to permeate our early autumn landscape, something changed.
It’s difficult to put into words exactly what’s different, but it’s almost like they have become more focused.
I used to offer to help them look things up. Now they demand to be shown information.
The endless rattling of questions has started to follow a particular path instead of zigzagging madly between topics.
They listen longer, and closer. They make more guesses and inferences for themselves instead of asking me to give them each piece of the puzzle.
They have plans. Real, concrete plans for things that might actually happen– lots of fantasy still thrown in there, but more akin to daydreams than to the acid binges of imagination we were used to.
Before, learning was something that happened to them– they were naturally curious, of course, like all primates, but they didn’t trouble themselves overmuch with knowing anything particular. Now, they almost seem to vibrate with the intense, conscious desire to learn.
They want to cook, so they are helping to make the menu, and browsing in cookbooks, and being the chefs de cuisine one night per week.
They want to stargaze, so they are finding astronomy books and star guides at the library and making sure we check the weather forecast.
They want to knit, so they are watching my hands intently and making some tentative starts with fingers and spools.
They want to know about bugs, so they are running for the guidebook and carefully trapping interesting things under upside-down juice glasses for observation.
They want to write, so they are using the sound map and copying words from books.
So things look a bit different this spring than they have in previous years, when our children were just the vessels of our vision for this grand educational experiment.
In the fall, the change will likely be more complete, and Númenor and Ithilien will be taking even more leadership in their own lives, but for right now the shift is still underway, and we’re balanced between the two of them being our satellites– doing their own thing but always around what we adults are doing– and all four of us being off on our own individual journeys and making a rather messy pack as we go.
It’s strange to think that, not that long ago, they were each just a tiny tickling thing behind my bellybutton.
Strange, and wonderful.