We were floating in the river today when my daughter asked, "Mom, when is George Washington's birthday?" I have no idea and said so, which made her smile. I asked why, wondering if maybe it was a trick question or if folks usually answer: the Fourth Of July. She said she just wondered. She said she used to sit around trying to guess what kids in school were learning and she wondered if it was facts like that. Pretty good guess, actually. A lot of elementary school is all about facts like that. I said it was a perfectly fine thing to wonder about--what other kids are learning. Neither of us commented further, but the supposition is true enough and I think she felt it all rather shallow. Was it a smile of relief or recognition that crossed her face?

Apparently she and her friend, M, used to play school. Until they wondered if school kids play homeschool, and if so what that would look like to them. They wondered if playing homeschool might make school children angry. Which is an interesting thing for these girls to wonder.

We grew new things in the spring garden this year, a very satisfying experience. Truth be told, I don't really garden for the produce. I do enjoy the tomatoes, beans, basil, and fresh cucumbers. Having fresh greens in the front yard does help stretch our food budget. But we waste more of what's grown than we preserve. A personal failing of mine is that I've never been all that interested in preservation--of any resource, but especially food. But I do enjoy the flow of plenty. And if a garden provides, it usually provides plenitude. In that way a garden is a lot like a thrift shop or a library. Its a hall of yes, here, and take what you will. 

Generosity and plenitude are great reasons to garden. But I do it just to learn how things grow. I feel a new intimacy with beets, for instance, that I've never known before. Having plucked that "drilling whisker", having felt the tearing of a deep root in a thing that looks as if its merely sitting on the earth, to feel a beets activity...its something one must do to know. Carrots flirt on the surface as pretty people always will, but their hold and reach are deep. They don't let go easily, and they have to mature before they  are sweet.

Aunt Katherine, Dean Of Students, always admonished us to be sweet as we were walking out the door. It was her universal instruction for all children. Be sweet. I never once heard her say "be smart." I guess she knew most children are already smart. Kindness is much harder to learn. And if learning how to be good at one thing makes a child more adept at learning anything, why not teach them how to be good at kindness first? I think kindness used to be a cultural standard but has slipped as our collective worship of pedagogy and expertise expands.

Which is to say, society is kind of obsessed with preservation, a form of hoarding and a hedge against uncertainty and mortality. There is some wisdom in it--a fennel sort of wisdom, I suppose. Its pretty and seems complex and weighty at first, reassuring. But reliance on experts hinders more than it helps. Too bad that's what society seems most anxious to teach the children.

Too bad you rarely hear anyone telling a child: Be Relaxed. Or: Be Unconcerned with Perfection. Be Less Impressed By Expertise. Why not: Be More Willing to Try It Yourself?

I gave my son a small lecture about being helpful, enthusiastic, and figuring out how to drive your own life through action. I mentioned the Seven Deadly Sins--an act of irony if ever there was one. Are 13 year old boys naturally a bit lazy? Then what's my excuse?!  Spongebob Squarepants and the 7 Deadly Sins

Me: What are you reading?
Dear Boy: The Book of Deadly Animals, the part about butterflies and moths.
blank stares at each other....
Dear Boy: I KNOW, RIGHT?!

Dear Daughter: Are you scared of Bunny?
Me: Of course not, I just don't want it in the kitchen because its narble.
Dear Daughter: Just because its green doesn't mean its narble.
Me: True, but the fact that it is supposed to be white and is now green definitely qualifies it as narble.

I broke down and watched the school bus video. Have y'all seen it? Many different things can be said about it. For myself, the school bus was an unusually happy place. Our driver was young and oh-so-fine; we are still friends to this day. And I was a popular girl in those days so I enjoyed the privilege and meager shelter such status offered.

I saw bullying on the school bus, of course. Because bullying is endemic to the institution in general, part of the daily background noise. These bullying children in the school bus video are a product of their environment.  They are one possible logical endpoint to the many years of training they've already endured. The video is so familiar, brings back such visceral memory, such normality.

Today, the truth I see on this video is a jolting reminder which gives me complicated and philosophic feelings. Had I seen it the year I graduated high school, I would have laughed cynically. Cold cynicism being one possible logical endpoint to the many years of training I had endured.

The normalcy of systemic bullying should be a grim indicator, a slavering canary. The institution is familial. After all, most children spend as much, if not more, waking time in school than they do at home. Bullying is as rooted in the common dysfunction of our school family as any generational family dysfunction. Just as daily, plain, and unconsciously tolerated and taught as any family dysfunction. Like any family, the institution has its goodness and of course its complicated. But what is broken is profoundly ill.

There is no other place in society, save perhaps jail, where bullying is so blithely normal and common.

Yesterday my husband and I spent a quiet afternoon sitting outside sipping rum, knitting, and discussing the children's education. My father called on father's day to offer a big fancy new computer to support Dear Boy's emerging interest in computer science, perhaps for his birthday. Which is lovely. Pops feels its important to put current sharp tools--the best you can find, into the hands of children. I agree completely.

However, Dear Boy doesn't love computers that much and a bigger faster computer isn't all that different from any reasonably new computer, which he already has. My husband pointed out that Dear Boy's true love is reading. He reads all the time. He reads everything. His first choice of somewhere to go is always the book store or library. He has the temperament of a scholar. And he really doesn't need more quiet thoughtful hobbies. The archetypal Tarot card whispering through the stars above this kid's head is Earl of Cups, Quiet Thoughtful.

But plumbing put a smile on the boy's face last week. The wrench in his hand seemed to light him up. And his father and I think action is what's wanted. All those long years ago in the early homeschooling dark ages, I planned to encourage the children to build tiny houses. I still think that's what my son should do with his teen years, unless he decides to go to high school. Or until he goes to college.

Our daughter spent the day helping run a henna booth at a festival. It was her first true professional day of work and she was paid 10% of the door, (more actually) plus lunch. Of course, the true payoff was experience and mentoring, both of which were rich. She came home exhausted, sunburned, and wiser. She told me, "This could be a summer job, something I could put on a resume for college." Which is absolutely true. She spent the day studying business acumen.

Specifically, Dear Girl noticed how the artist handled the flow of money. Two little girls with one five dollar bill wanted two tattoos. Our Girl was surprised the artist offered to do a five dollar tattoo on each child, which was the written and clearly stated price. Rather than choosing to give two tattoos for two fifty--thereby splitting one. Or, seen another way, giving a free tattoo. I pointed out the artist was working hard to feed her family and deserves to get paid. She wasn't there for fun. We have also noticed a certain open giving attitude can serve business interests well. All of which we discussed. It can be tricky to balance giving with working to get paid--a confusing part of life and business.

My husband and I think Dear Girl may never choose straight academic training. Not because she's so artistically inclined, though she is clearly artistic to her core. More because she wears blue wigs when we go out, or cat ears, and notices such behavior requires bravery. Consciously then, she does not choose what's easy. Quite Thoughtful is in the Tarot deck of this child, but she is likely guided by the Goddess of Alternatives. And Dear Girl is driven to make money. She wants to be well set, able to take care of herself, and buy what she wants. She'll likely not wait around, dithering through college. She may be off and running her meandering path even now.