Why should I take an art class? I don’t want to be an artist when I grow up!

Alison Pilon Nokes teaches art, among other subjects, at Huntington-Surrey High School in Austin. Her guest contribution here is adapted from her recent post on the school’s own blog.

After about ten years in the visual art education world, I feel pretty strongly that everyone should take an art class—every year, if possible!

Throughout my own educational and professional experiences, I have always felt freed by the opportunity for creative problem solving and exploration of visual media provided through the visual arts. I was, and still am, able to process many different parts of my life through an art outlet. And while I do, personally, as an adult, identify as an artist, I think the benefits of working through an artistic process—much like the experience of working with the scientific method in a science course—are worthwhile for everyone to experience as they venture through their education, no matter what they end up doing and becoming. 

We are living in a rapidly changing world. In many ways, we cannot even imagine what the work force and daily life are going to look like for our kids when they come of age. This year of rapid adjustment to virtual learning and social distancing has certainly given us all a taste of how flexible we need to be and how quickly our world can change. What we do know is that students who can think critically and creatively about a variety of complex problems are going to have the best chance for success in just about any setting. 

Not every student who is taking an art class is planning to apply to art school for college. In fact, most aren’t (just as not every student who is taking a biology course plans to become a biologist). It is with that in mind that I design lessons and projects for my art students. My lessons provide students with opportunities to play with materials they may not have used before, discover for themselves how those materials work, and consider how they can use them to meet their needs. My lessons present students with a problem, a dilemma, or an obstacle and ask them to come up with an out-of-the-box solution.

As much fun as it is for families and friends to walk into a student art show at the end of the year full of beautiful finished work, the reality of art is that most often what students make is messy and strange. For every finished work of art that is “pretty,” there are often several unsuccessful attempts (I’m purposely avoiding the term “failures”). Those unsuccessful attempts—those messy and strange drawings, paintings, and sculptures—are what show the important lessons of art: the processes of working out a solution to a problem. As a teacher of art, the most important thing to me is not what the final product looks like. Rather, I want my art students to put forth their best effort, maintain a good attitude about trying, and work through the hard process of solving problems in innovative ways with materials that may be new to them.

Alison Pilon Nokes

An honest look at the fall

Pam Nicholas is an extraordinary educator who serves as executive director of Huntington-Surrey High School. Below, she shares her candid thoughts and feelings about the challenges and uncertainties of the coming school year amidst the COVID-19 pandemic that is currently surging here in Central Texas.

I, like many other parents and people in the education community, have been glued to any news or information about what school district plans are looking like for the fall. As both a teacher and an administrator for our small private high school, I have so many emotions running through me about the idea of returning to school in the fall.  I know that many kids learn best when they are face-to-face. I miss hugging my kids (okay, students) every day. I miss seeing them face-to-face, and I even miss going on my occasional Starbucks runs for them. It was hard to see them only online in the spring and to know that they too were emotionally struggling with so much going on in the world.

On the other hand, having my own personal health issues, I am not one to take my health or anyone else’s for granted. I was proud of the fact that my school managed to both help flatten Austin’s curve in the spring and provide our students with an excellent virtual education with no missed days of school. Now, these summer months are leaving me with time to reflect on what went well, what could be improved, how we can keep our students engaged, and how we can best support our kids, our teachers, and our families in these very disconcerting times. 

With hospitals in Austin getting close to being overwhelmed, it is troubling for me to hear elected officials talk about having schools return to face-to-face classes in the fall. There is so much talk about how the virus is mild in children, but the facts of the matter are that some children do get quite ill and children can transmit the virus between one another, to their families, and to their teachers. There is no way to predict right now which one of us will have a mild case, who will have severe illness or ongoing medical issues to contend with, and who will die. As a private school administrator, could I ever live with the fact that I did have the “luxury” of keeping school virtual but I chose not to, and someone were to get seriously ill or die because of that choice? I know some of my parents are really wanting to return to face-to-face instruction because, of course, it is the best way for their kids to learn and there is nothing like face-to-face social interactions with their friends. However, I’m not one to gamble, and I am certainly not feeling comfortable gambling with the lives of the people in my community. 

As a private high school, we were and are extremely privileged in the sense that our kids are old enough to be home by themselves, if need be, and our kids are already extremely familiar with technology. With our very small student-to-teacher ratios, we could still pay a lot of attention to each student during class times and were able to be available to them outside of regular class times for extra help. I won’t say everything went perfectly transitioning to live, online classes (we were Zoom-bombed only once, thank goodness!), but I know that our kids knew we were there for them, got to have some pretty interesting conversations, still managed to learn new skills, and were able to practice those skills with the live support of their peers and teachers. 

So, what were some lessons learned, and what can we, as parents, educators, or, like me, both, do this coming fall? All of us need to have some positive interaction during the day. Having good, interesting conversations, even virtually, keeps kids engaged. Teaching using Socratic methods also helps to keep them engaged. We’ve learned that some kids are still going to struggle, especially those with ADHD. Our ADHD students can spend hour upon hour on a screen playing Minecraft, but it is quite different from taking an online course. We have found that having them attend class via cell phone in a well-lit room with just a table or desk really helps with mitigating the temptation to use other apps during class time.

Parents helping kids stay organized and on top of their homework as they adjust can help a lot, too. When kids were out and about during the day, it was easier to make sure they were doing their independent work at a regularly scheduled time. Now with them home all day, it is easier to assume they will just get it done. That really isn’t the case. Parents with children of any age can help their kids find success by having them on a consistent routine, including time slotted specifically for homework. Regular sleep times, physical activity times, and homework times can go a long way.

Another way to help our kids in an online environment is for teachers to record their classes. Our school will be posting them online so that if a student wasn’t able to focus, for whatever reason, the class is there for them to see at a better time. We are also continuing our study halls during the school days so kids can get their homework done with a teacher live to help them and make sure progress is being made on assignments. It’s important for schools to be able to provide one-on-one help if they can, even if it isn’t academic help. Our teachers will continue to simply check in with each of our students to find out how they are coping. Offering frequent “just for fun” opportunities can help, too. This summer and beyond, we will continue to offer online social opportunities for our kids to virtually get together. Working hand-in-hand with our parents, students, and faculty, we will give our students the best possible educational experience we can provide.

Times are tough right now for most of us, and alt-ed schools have a lot of difficult decisions to make over the coming days and weeks. The balance between the grown-ups having to work, the children needing in-person attention, and everyone wanting to help keep everyone safe is an exceedingly difficult one to find. I know we are all going to try our best, and hopefully working together with a lot of patience and empathy, we will make the best of what seems like an impossible situation.

 
Pam Nicholas

Hiding scary things from kids

Deborah Hale, founder and director of the Inside Outside School, kindly granted Alt Ed Austin permission to republish this timely and soul-searching piece. It originally appeared on her school blog earlier this month, soon after large protests against police brutality and racism began in Minneapolis, Austin, and many other communities throughout the world.

 
Recent events following the murder of George Floyd have offered me, a white woman born in the 1950s, an opportunity for self-reflection. I am not doing a good enough job of growing anti-racist children. I’ve always taken the approach with environmental education that we don’t focus on what is wrong like glaciers melting; instead we help children fall in love with nature, so that one day they will harness that love in a way that actively protects the environment. Playing in a creek, gardening, and feeding chickens are our methodology of raising an environmental activist.  We address race issues mostly through literature. We teach respect for everyone. The students study the Civil Rights movement, Jim Crow laws, slavery, the Underground Railroad, segregation, and prejudice. 
​ 
In her book Not My Idea: A Book about Whiteness, Anastasia Higginbotham shows a mother saying, “Oh no, not again.” Her daughter hears her and says, “Mom. What ‘not again?’” The mother doesn’t want to tell her child about the George Floyd, Breanna Taylor, Mark Ramos news break of the day. She wants to “hide scary things” from her kid. Boy, do I get that! I really want children to enjoy their sacred childhood, running, playing, laughing. The dangers they face at school are poison ivy, sharp rocks under their bare feet, snakes, and puss moth caterpillars. Their parents might worry about that a bit, but they don’t have to worry that their child will be murdered by police. I can protect them from the horrible, frightening details in today’s news, but because there is not a lot of diversity, I cannot help them fall in love with people of color through direct experience. Our school isn’t free, there is no free breakfast or lunch, we are not on a bus route. We lack socio-economic diversity. As a private school, we serve privileged children. That’s not what I want, but that is what I created.

Our family has recently had our own run-in with racist police brutality. Like many white grandparents, we have grandchildren, daughters-in-law, nieces, and nephews who are people of color. Our grandson was peacefully protesting in Austin and was shot at close range by a police officer’s rubber bullet.

Our grandson, now 20, is a photographer. The bullet hit his right arm. He required emergency surgery to save his arm. He has a huge scar which runs down the center of his Texas tattoo. He was holding a camera, not a gun. 

He is a peaceful man. He eats a vegan diet so that he may do no harm. I adore my grandchildren. They matter to me deeply and personally. Our grandson recently shared with us how difficult it has been for him, growing up black. I heard his pain, the things he has faced that our other grandchildren will never have to face because they are white. I do want them to know what happened to their cousin. I know it is a scary thing, but knowing about this is important. We cannot let them grow up thinking that the color of your skin doesn’t matter. It makes all the difference if your skin color isn’t white. I knelt in the grass on a recent Sunday at Huston-Tillotson College listening to the heartbreaking words of Brenda Ramos, whose son, Mark, had been killed by police in Austin 6 weeks earlier. Mark was unarmed and had his hands up in the air.  There has been no justice, no arrest. My heart is hurting for her and for all mothers and grandmothers whose children are people of color.

One of the reasons we don’t teach our students at IOS about deforestation and climate change is that these big problems can paralyze children into a fear that they can only shut down around. I feel this paralyzing fear about our world right now. Are we facing civil war? Are people trying to stir up such an unimaginable evil in the year 2020? I cannot remain frozen in fear. I have to use my voice to speak out against racism. It was not my idea, and if you are reading this, it was not yours either. We do not support it, but are we fighting it?

My grandfather introduced racism into our home when I was in kindergarten or first grade. He said the N word at the dinner table in reference to his co-workers at the post office. My mother bravely ripped her father in law a new one in front of his granddaughters. It made an indelible impression on me. I thank God that my mother shaped my belief system, not my grandfather. When we saw the race riots on the television, she did not send me out of the room. I saw. I see. I cannot look the other way.

Our next module in our Wit and Wisdom curriculum at the Inside Outside School is “Civil Rights.” We will open with this integrated theme in our pandemic world classroom, whatever that looks like. I will help shape the belief systems of my students. I will continue to teach them the Three Respect Agreements of our school: Respect Yourself, Respect Others, Respect the Environment. I will continue to teach them about a growth mindset and about the Dimensions of Human Greatness. But, when we talk about interaction, I want them to actually have interactions with people of color. I don’t want it to all be book learning. 

My semester reports are all written, and now I am trying to plan for a world where students can’t be closer than 6 feet from each other, where I may be teaching with a mask over my mouth and nose in triple-digit Texas heat. But just as importantly, I also am imagining how to plan a world where the student population at our school reflects the diversity of our wider community. I can stand against racism by not being satisfied with my white privilege. I can ask for the means to serve more intentionally in creating a more just and loving world. I can reach into the greater field of life where this school originated and find the next upgrade. Through our shared intention, let us see that manifesting. 

Please join me. Namaste.

Deborah Hale

Something there is that doesn't love a wall

Guest contributor Laurie Filipelli is on a mission to help writers of all ages transform their experiences into meaningful poems and personal narratives—and mightily crafted college application essays. She holds an M.F.A in Poetry and an M.A. in English and has taught high school, college, and pedagogical courses. Laurie is the author of two books of poems—Girl Paper Stone (Black Lawrence Press, 2018) and Elseplace (Brooklyn Arts Press, 2013)—as well as the Mighty Writing College Application Essay Guide, in collaboration with Irena Smith, Ph.D. Her weeklong Kids with Pens poetry summer camp will take place July 20–24 and is now open for registration.

It’s happened to most of us at one time or another: you return to a cherished place after an absence—maybe a weekend, maybe years—and you find something irrevocably changed. The place no longer feels like the place you knew; a line is drawn between before and after.

After winter break, my daughter and I went back to her school and found a new chain-link fence. Given the age in which we live, this is not a surprise. People want to feel safer, and this feeling, some psychologists (and fence makers) tell us, is achieved with a strong perimeter. If we know our boundaries, we can flourish. 

As a poet, it is hard to believe this is true. Our writing may benefit from the limits of form, but it is the breaking of barriers that gives words life. We use repetition so we can augment variation. We limit our imagistic palette so that the brightest colors shine through. The impositions of an artist are self-imposed, not stifling. The most meaningful work requires not safety, but risk.

My daughter and her friend walked along the fence, gathering old balls, lots of sticks, and a busted pick-up/drop-off sign. Near the soccer goal, they erected a shrine, topping it off with a placard of painted wood on which they wrote a dedication to a time “before the fence.”

Weeks later on the playground, I couldn’t help but quote Robert Frost’s ‘Mending Wall” to a friend, not the oft misused part about good fences and good neighbors, but the part that sums up the steady work of nature in the face of artificial boundaries. Something there is that doesn't love a wall. The shrine by now had long been disassembled (the placard, serendipitously, found a home on a loving parent’s Twitter feed), but the fence itself was adorned with muddied sweatshirts. I watched with pleasure as a kid who’d mastered the art of tree climbing attempted to hurl himself over.

In our fenced-in world, it takes effort to make mischief, and imagination to move beyond our fears and longings for the past. We can’t remove most fences, but we can ask ourselves, as Frost asks in his poem, what “we’re walling in and walling out.” We can chip away at boundaries in our own minds, and, with some effort, even learn to climb.


Laurie Filipelli

A “really good” education

Heather Feinberg is a counselor, author, and founder of Mindful Kids, a nonprofit organization in Austin whose purpose is to serve children, teens, and the adults who care for them by exploring, practicing, and learning about meditation and energy management tools in inspiring and transformational ways. In her guest contribution today, she brings her perspectives as both a parent and a mindfulness professional to the question of what makes a “really good” education. To learn more about Heather’s work, visit her website or send her an email.
 

A few weeks ago while my daughter and I were shopping, we met another mom with her daughter. As happens frequently with littles, we stopped to chat and play amidst the racks. As the mom and I watched the girls navigate each other, we did our own exploring. She asked me if my daughter (who was clearly older than hers) went to preschool, and I said she did a few days a week. I returned the question, and she told me her plans for her daughter along with some other family details. It turns out she came here with her husband and young child and left their friends and families behind in India. She was eager to have an open mind to speak to, and I quickly became her consult on preschools in Austin.

After a few minutes covering preschool options in the area, she mentioned elementary school. She said something like, “I mean, I want my daughter to get a really good education.”

I heard her, acknowledged it, and responded, “Yes! I think most, if not all, parents would say that they want their children to get a really good education.” The thing is, I continued, what each person means by that is probably very different. For example, I continued, I would imagine that your idea of a really good education is probably distinctly different from mine.

I walked right into it, although I didn’t see it coming. She said, “Okay, so tell me, what is your idea of a really good education?”

“How much time do you have?” I immediately joked back, thinking there was no way I was going to be able to summarize my answer, nor did I want to try. Somehow, my humor was lost in translation, as she was clearly awaiting my response. So I took a deep breath and was surprised at how easy it was for me to tell her. I wish I had been recording myself; what I said went something like this:
 

1. Safe and Open Environment

To me, a really good education is about having an environment that is safe in all ways—physically, emotionally, psychically. Where the teachers are the guides, not the know-it-alls, the ones holding the space, grounded in a set of shared intentions for an experience, not a specific outcome. A place where it is safe for each child and each person to be exactly who they are, and are honored for their place and presence in the community. A place where each child is treated with kindness, patience, and appreciation and is truly seen. In order for this to happen, I understand that it will take teachers, mentors, leaders, and guides who are aware, conscious, and present.

2. All Senses Ignited

 A really good education means a place where the children’s senses (all six of them) are ignited. Not at the same time, of course, and not to a point of overstimulation, but in an organic balance of sensory exploration. School is a place where who my child is, what she is passionate about, what makes her come alive, should be explored every day and in many ways. Cooking and eating, singing and dancing, creating meaningful movement, art of every sort, a lot of appropriate touch, and an honoring of each child’s unique knowing (intuition) and fantasy creations are integral and imperative.

3. Autonomy and Independence

 A really good education fosters autonomy and independence in every child at their unique comfort and developmental level. I visited a private alternative school in Florida earlier in the year where they call any exams given to the students “celebrations” because they see them as an opportunity for the students to celebrate what they have learned. They teach the children how to prepare their brains and their bodies for the celebrations, knowing that they can be a heightened experience. They begin in preschool teaching about the brain, how to notice what part of their brains they are in, and then exploring meditation and mindfulness techniques with the students to help bring awareness and centering. It was powerful to see that in practice.

That is just one example of what I mean when I say autonomy and independence. A really good education means our children will learn skills that will equip them in being in the world in a meaningful and powerful way. I want to see our children develop an understanding of currency early on and learn how to create a relationship to it that will serve them their whole lives. I want our children to understand that while we are each unique learners, we are a part of one world community, and while we need to foster self-reliance, we must also accept and invite the support of everything and everyone around us. I want our children to learn to advocate for who they are and for what they believe with their strong, capable voices.

4. Learning to Love

Within a really good educational system, children come to learn about what they love and even more than that, develop a love of self. Shouldn’t part of a formal education be about learning to have a relationship with yourself? What I know is that having a relationship with anyone else depends first on how I learn to treat, love, and respect myself. So we do a disservice to our children when we put so much emphasis on their learning how to navigate relationships outside of themselves without at the very least acknowledging and appreciating the connection to the most important relationship we will ever have, the one with ourselves. Yes, learning compassion and empathy is integral, but that love must also include ourselves.

What would our world look like if this were emphasized not just in our homes but also in our schools? A learning of what each child loves, a learning of what it means to love, a learning of how to love, both self and others, and lots and lots of space to practice over and over again—that is education at its highest.

5. Nature Education

I am a full believer that if there is something valuable to learn, about 99 percent of the time nature can teach it to us. It is therefore vital for our children to spend time outside and in nature. Outdoor classrooms, plenty of time in the sun, rain, dirt, and mud, exploring, creating, absorbing, and just being. Learning how to plant seeds and watch them grow. Learning how plants can heal. Learning how to care for, connect to, and treat animals. Learning how to protect our planet. These are just a few examples of all the natural world has to offer, teach, and share with us.

6. Inspired Learning

How we learn something is more important than what we are learning. It is the difference between absorption of knowledge and regurgitation of facts or figures. A really good education means that the way my child is taught to read, to do math, and to write is evolved, is itself a transformative experience.

The environment itself speaks to the learning potential. I don’t want my child to learn in the ways I learned, not because it wasn't effective for me but because we have a whole new set of tools to use. A really good education means current, innovative programs, models, and systems that are being created in present time. It also means that learning is inspired by intrinsic interest, passion, and joy and not based on external rewards, test scores, or societal norms and expectations. We are born wired to learn. When we set up an environment for children where learning becomes something to do (with incentives, competitiveness, and pressure) instead of something to be (with expansiveness, willingness, and curiosity), it changes the spirit in which we come to know ourselves and our world.
 

7. Internal Dialogue

Like most things on this list, teaching internal dialogue should be a shared responsibility at home and at school. However, in an era when many children begin at a young age to spend a great deal of their time away from their primary caregivers, this topic becomes even more imperative for the school environment.

Children model their behavior first and foremost on what they see, hear, and feel around them. This includes how they begin to formulate their thoughts and turn them into what they believe. I see this as one of the biggest tasks of an education, both from school and home: to help our children learn to have awareness about how their thoughts shape what they know, how they feel, and how they see the world.

Put more simply, we need to devote a significant amount of time in our formal and informal educational centers to fostering the internal dialogue of our children. If a school can do so in an intentional way, that is the first step. The next step is how.

What tools are they giving children to help them connect to their own minds, and how, when, and where is there space to practice using them throughout the day? How will our children understand their brains and their bodies, their emotional states, their feelings, their internal pulls, and their desires in neutral and non-threatening ways? How will we explore tools that will guide them in the development of managing all those interesting places and spaces? And how will we teach them to be disciplined in their practice?

The word discipline comes from the word disciple. We must guide our children to be disciplined in how they talk to themselves, how they care for themselves, and how they treat themselves so that they will come to trust and rely on their inner guidance and strength.

Therefore, schools who are visibly and intentionally enriching their curriculum around mindful practice—be it presence, yoga, breathing, meditation, visualization, journaling, all of the above, or something different—are the ones who are truly serving the whole child. That is a really good education.

8. A Shared Philosophy/Vision

In order for all the above to occur, there must be a shared vision and philosophy for the school community. What is the true foundation of the learning, and what are the intentions of the school? Usually this is created by the founder of the school, but it must be fully accepted, acknowledged, and acted upon by all those who share the space.

The children will understand, at their appropriate level of development, how this affects what, how, and why they learn as they do. In a really good school, parents are aligned with the vision and fully support the movement of the community. The adults who work within the school truly believe in the work they do. They choose with each lesson, even each glance, how to create the space and ground the learning.

Learning is about absorbing what happens around you, imprinting the energy of all things, so what is being spoken and what is unsaid are equally meaningful. Yes, I fully get how large an undertaking this is. Even as I write this I wonder to myself: how much can we as parents ask for in this capacity? Deep inside I know: we must ask for all that we can imagine. These are our children and the future of our world.
 

I also mentioned things like small class size, and maybe even small school size with a low student-teacher ratio. And I have plenty more specific desires that I would like to see. But here is what it all comes down to: A really good education is the one where my child, and your child, thrives. This will inevitably be different for different children—which is one of the reasons we are so lucky to be living in a city where there are so many different choices and options for a really good education. Not to mention to be living in a time where there are so many types of education that have value and are valued. (Of course, luck doesn’t have anything to do with it, but that’s another blog topic.)

After I finished, the mom asked me for my phone number so we could get together again and talk more. I guess whatever I said meant something to her, and I’m hoping maybe it means something to you, too. It surely helped me to get clear on what I want for my daughter and the kinds of environments where I believe she will thrive.

I hope more of us spend time thinking about what would be ideal for our children’s education instead of accepting what is made available to us, with blinders on to what may be missing. Your children’s education will have a profound impact on the parts of them that are nurtured, nourished, and fostered and the parts of them that are stifled, challenged, weakened, or cut off.

We as parents are active participants in their learning on all levels. What we choose here matters. And as we choose, we effectively change the system of education around us. It exists to serve our children and our families. Sometimes we forget that. Sometimes it's hard to remember. So tell me, what does a really good education mean to you?

Heather Feinberg
 

Transforming education: How a grassroots movement is changing the world

Michael Carberry is the founder and director of the Whole Life Learning Center in Austin and a cofounder of the Education Transformation Alliance. He is also a writer, speaker, and educational consultant. Michael is currently completing an M.A. in Holistic Education from the SelfDesign Graduate Institute. Here Michael sums up his views on the current state of education and what truly meaningful reform looks like. At the end of his guest post, you can watch a lovely new video about his revolutionary (and expanding) school.

I believe in standardizing automobiles. I do not believe in standardizing human beings. Standardization is a great peril which threatens American culture.
                                                 —Albert Einstein

It seems like common sense today that a highly standardized education system will only hinder the creativity of both teachers and students, ultimately damaging their ability to teach and truly learn. Students are often lost and disenchanted within this vast, competitive system. I propose that the highest aim of education ought to be supporting every student in discovering and cultivating his or her unique gifts, while promoting a lifelong love of learning.

Rather than stressing and obsessing over grades and test performance, we educators and leaders in the alt ed movement shift the focus to guiding and mentoring youth toward living more fulfilled, empowered, and joyous lives while promoting health and wellness, ecological awareness, and social justice. Author Ron Miller describes education as “the primary vehicle for cultural transformation.”  This is why it is so important to take a hard look at our traditional education system while researching the myriad alternatives that are sprouting up.

When choosing a school for your child, or deciding on an educational philosophy that you are aligned with, you have to ask the questions: What is the purpose of education? What do I want for myself and my child? And what kind of future do I want to contribute to?

A 2012 Gallup poll demonstrated that the longer students stay in school, the less engaged they become with their own education. The Gallup Student Poll surveyed nearly 500,000 students in grades 5 through 12 from more than 1,700 public schools in 37 states. It found that about 80 percent of elementary students who participated in the poll were engaged with their education, measured in terms of “involvement in and enthusiasm for school.” By middle school it fell to about 60 percent, and by high school, only 40 percent of students would be considered engaged.

It’s no secret: public schools (and traditional private schools too) are focusing on the numbers and forgetting about the students. The most-watched TED Talk ever is “How Schools Kill Creativity” by Sir Ken Robinson. He makes the case that over the past hundred years our education system has basically emulated the industrial, assembly line model. What we need to return to, then, is a more organic model that understands human unfolding and learning as a natural process that requires diverse environments, specialized attention, and unique inputs in order to nourish optimal growth and well-being.

A glimpse of organic learning at the Whole Life Learning Center in Austin, Texas

John Taylor Gatto is another outspoken advocate of education revolution. Gatto was named New York City Teacher of the Year in 1989, 1990, and 1991, and New York State Teacher of the Year in 1991.  He shocked administrators upon his acceptance of this award by lambasting the public school system in a speech that he later expanded into his book, Dumbing Us Down: The Hidden Curriculum of Compulsory Schooling. Gatto asserts that schools confuse students by presenting an incoherent array of information that the child needs to memorize in order to compete in school. He explains that rather than teaching kids to be independent, creative, confident individuals, schools are teaching (through built-in contexts) emotional and intellectual dependence and indifference.

Despite these clear arguments for radical reform in our public education system, pervasive and corrosive programs like No Child Left Behind continue to stifle school districts throughout the country by attaching funding to test performance. The good news is that there is a growing movement of families and educators turning to a rapidly expanding array of alternatives.  The increasing drop-out rates and the steep rise in the number of medicated students are just a couple of examples of the fractured system they are leaving behind.

In the past, alternatives were fewer and farther between. Awareness around these alternatives was quite limited; perhaps people had heard through mainstream sources about Montessori or Waldorf education, but they probably had a very limited understanding of what those were or why they might be better choices for their families than the public school system.

Today the education revolution is in full swing, and it’s not led by any one model of education to universally replace public schools. It’s a movement comprising homeschoolers, unschoolers, co-ops, small independent schools, charter schools, families, and educators choosing options that they’re aligned with—options that see their children and students as more than cogs in a machine being prepared for the workforce, options that recognize that everyone learns differently and honor and support each child’s unique strengths and weaknesses, that recognize the importance of social-emotional learning along with academic study, options that facilitate a connection to nature and promote ecological awareness, social justice, and global citizenship.

Happy learners at the Whole Life Learning Center

An invaluable resource in this movement is the Alternative Education Resource Organization (AERO), which hosts an annual conference and acts as an international hub for all things alt ed. In Canada, a great example of government-funded measures to support homeschooling efforts can be seen in the organization SelfDesign, which supports parents financially and with a “Learning Consultant” who helps them create and follow through on an individualized learning plan for their child.

One of the cities at the forefront of this education revolution in the United States is Austin, Texas. Yes, that’s right, the home of the President who brought No Child Left Behind to the nation is also one of the most supportive states when it comes to homeschooling. Austin also happens to be a progressive oasis in a conservative state, so it has drawn a multitude of educational options for the many families moving to Austin every day. Beyond the typical alternative options of the Montessori and Waldorf schools, dozens of small, independent schools have sprouted up, each with its own unique learner-centered approach.

In 2012 educators representing a handful of these schools came together to create the Education Transformation Alliance (ETA). The ETA, a growing 501c3 nonprofit organization, now shares resources and organizes school fairs and other events to reach more families and let them know about all the great options out there. Alt Ed Austin, the family consulting service and online resource center that publishes this blog, works closely with the ETA and serves as a one-stop shop for parents interested in comparing the many educational options around Austin. Hopefully, more and more communities will catch on and follow this model of synergistic collaboration. 

Ultimately, the education revolution is not about fixing the current system or finding/creating another system to replace it. It is about supporting the creation of a diverse range of options for families to choose from, while making those options accessible for families, whatever their economic circumstances may be. Every child is unique, every family is different; so why should we continue to pump billions of dollars into a homogenized, one-size-fits-all education for our future generations? It is time we recognize that in order to transform our world to a more just, sustainable, and peaceful place, we need to start by transforming education.

We’re doing just that at the Whole Life Learning Center, and you can be a part of it! Please consider supporting our work by contributing to our crowdfunding campaign. Watch the new video below to learn more about our unique programs, our expansion project, and how you can help.

Michael Carberry, M.S.