The Boy Who Could Change the World

by Aaron Swartz

  Art is obviously something that can be learned outside of school. All one needs is the materials and the time to let their creativity flow. Schools often have many materials that allow you to explore different forms of art, and it may be useful to work out an arrangement with your school so that you can continue to use their supplies. If not, there are many art supply stores, and plenty of other ways to find the necessary materials. The most important ingredient of all, however, is creativity, which is something you must cultivate from inside yourself.

  However, don’t think that unschooling is limited to just a new way of learning the same subjects in school! Instead, it’s just as important to do other things: become an apprentice or volunteer and learn how to take care of a “real job”; start your own business; lobby politicians and try to make changes in our government or society; go on an explorative trip around the world to learn about other cultures and ways of living; etc.

  As TLH points out, adolescence is one of the most exciting and important times of transformation in a child. Other cultures mark it through strong and powerful experiences: the town coming together to perform a hallowed tribal ritual; sending the child out on a quest or journey, making him into a man when he returns; etc. Why do we go on like nothing is happening, throwing our children into a mind-numbing, spine-straightening, painfully useless ordeal?

  Today (2001-04-04) I visited a museum which included a theme-park-like adventure. Like Indiana Jones, it had you climb through its mazes and passageways to find the stone statues of the spirits of Reason, Inspiration, Questions, and Perseverance. When you discovered each statue, it sang a little song where it stressed its importance. In the end, when you had found all of them, all the statues came together to do a little song-and-dance number about how the secret of knowledge was to balance all four of them. It was quite insightful and certainly true. If you have Reason, Inspiration, Questions, and Perseverance, it’s hard to go wrong.

  But Won’t My Child Become an Unsocial Hermit?!

  Interestingly, I’ve heard people dislike unschooling not because they are afraid that their children will not learn anything, but because they are afraid they will not develop “healthy social relationships with their peers.” Nothing could be farther from the truth.

  First, school is not a place to develop social relationships. In fact, it seems designed to stifle them. There is hardly time for socialization provided, and it is discouraged for the majority of the school day. Any student who does develop a true relationship with someone does it outside of school: at a local meeting place (like a park or mall); when going over to a friend’s house; or after school. An unschooler can still do all of these things.

  Second, who decided that meaningful relationships could only be had with other people who happen to be in roughly the same physical area at roughly the same age? If anything, this is a severely restrained peer group. I have developed my most meaningful relationships online. None of them live within driving distance. None of them are about my own age. Even among those who I would not count as “friends,” I have met many people online who have simply commented on my work or are interested by what I do. Through the Internet, I’ve developed a strong social network—something I could never do if I had to keep my choice of peers within school grounds.

  But I Don’t Want the Kids at Home!

  Now, I have sort of implied that unschooling only takes place at home. This is not true. As I said at the beginning, the unschooling movement considers Sudbury schools part of them, and playfully calls them the Unschooling Schools. Unfortunately, through all of my research in Sudbury schools, I had not heard them mention the unschooling movement—this would be especially appreciated for fans of the Sudbury model who do not have such a school close by.

  Where Do We Go from Here?

  I have strong hopes for the growth of the unschooling movement in the future. First, I think that it needs to get the word out: I never knew unschooling was a choice, or that others did it, until just recently—and I’ve done my best to research these things. So many people complain about the quality of our school systems today, and are ready for a change in the system. Unschooling is not only a change—it’s a tidal wave knocking out all that we know and believe about the school system and providing a vastly different—and better—alternative.

  Also, I hope to start a community for unschoolers on the web. If you know of any unschoolers, please point them to me. Have them send me an email. I’d love to see more sharing of experiences and collect this great knowledge that exists out there.

  Finally, I end with a plea. If you have kids, or know kids, who are stuck in the monotony of school, give them an escape route: buy them a copy of Teenage Liberation Handbook. I’m sure they’ll thank you for it. It’s time for the kids to rise up and take control of our lives again. Our slavery has lasted long enough.

  Large portions of this piece are based on an online discussion I’ve been having. I want to thank all who have participated and encourage you to join in the discussion if you haven’t already.

  School Rules

  http://web.archive.org/web/20020101213828/http://www.swartzfam.com:82/aaron/school/2000/12/12/

  December 12, 2000

  Age 14

  “They” tell you to behave: to follow the rules, to do what they say, to be quiet and polite and kind. Don’t listen to them. It’s a scam.

  It’s school, right? What better place is there to experiment? School, while not exactly a playground, is supposed to be a safe place. It’s somewhere that the consequences are small, but are there. Just enough to deter you, but not enough to hurt.

  None of this was in my head as I hid out in the bathroom. These thoughts and justifications didn’t come to mind as I slithered down the hallway. It wasn’t there to console me as I was caught and dragged back down the hallway, onto the bus. The neurons didn’t fire as I sat, in tears, through a bitter interrogation and reprimand by the principal. I never realized them as I scrubbed the desks and shelves during my Saturday detention. In fact, they didn’t hit me with full force until several days ago—a full year or so after the event took place.

  In the meantime, other kids asked me what it was that made me do it. It seemed so silly, so pointless. I wasn’t the kind of kid that did these things, they said. I always apologized, or mumbled, or tried to change the subject. The truth was I really didn’t know what kind of kid I was.

  Now, however, I have an answer for them. It was part of my education—a more important part than science or history could ever be. They were events that did more to flesh me out as a person, and build my character than all the boring lectures put together. And that’s the way it should be.

  That’s the kind of thing that the big folks don’t understand, or at least they often pretend not to. They deliver their harsh words with all the anger they can muster, and perhaps they truly are angry. But some part of me can’t help but wonder if deep inside they really understand. Somehow, perhaps, they know that it’s a test. A test meant to crush the self-confidence of children, and, in doing so, have it grow back even stronger.

  If that’s true, I want to tell them that there are easier ways. Ones that work not through hatred and pain, but through love. Ways that bring out the inner strength of those who are weak, and cultivate it in those that are stronger. Ways that teach all of us—both the oppressor and the oppressed—that we’re in this fight together. Instead of fighting each other, and sowing hatred that will last throughout our lives, why don’t we work together to solve the problem, and share the love that we all want and need.

  It seems like such a better solution. I’m a human, not some lab rat that needs to be rewarded and punished. I have reasons for what I do, you have reasons for what you want. Things between us can’t be so different that we can’t work them out eventually. You’re probably thinking that this isn’t just a good lesson for school, but a good lesson for life. And you’d be right. And if it’s such a good lesson, how come we don’t teach it through our actions?
That’s the way it seems to me at least. But I’m not the one who makes the rules.

  The Writings of John Holt

  http://web.archive.org/web/20011222043951/http://swartzfam.com/aaron/school/2001/04/29/

  April 29, 2001

  Age 14

  Whenever people talk about unschooling, one name comes up. That is the name of John Holt, the man who invented the concept. He wrote numerous books about his ideas and theories, but I think none are better than How Children Fail and How Children Learn.

  John Holt, like many of the people involved in unschooling, was first a teacher. He felt he was a great educator, a man who always worked hard to make learning more enjoyable and fun for the students. He invented games, bought expensive educational toys, let the kids talk in class, and used innovative educational techniques. Yet he didn’t [see] his folly.

  It was only when he began to stop teaching and started sitting in on other classes that he began to see where he went wrong: He had never actually watched the kids—watched them carefully, that is. Throughout his year of careful observation, he wrote notes to his friends and the teacher with whom he shared the class, Bill Hull. These notes were published in the book, How Children Fail. Noticing that what went on in his class was not at all what he thought, he writes:

  You can’t find out what a child does in class by looking at him only when he is called on. You have to watch him for long stretches of time without his knowing it. [. . .] There doesn’t seem to be much a teacher can do about this [. . .]. A teacher in class is like a man in the woods, at night with a powerful flashlight in his hand. Wherever he turns his light, the creatures on whom it shines are aware of it, and thus to not behave as they do in the dark.

  He began to realize that the students were not learning what he “taught” them, but merely pretending to. He discovered all of their fearful defense mechanisms and strategies, which they used so that they wouldn’t appear stupid in front of their classmates and teacher.

  One of the “innovative” things that John and Bill used in their classroom was a balance beam. The students would be given several weights and had to try and guess where on the beam to place them to make it balance. Here is what students said when they were asked to predict what would happen to the beam:

  Abby: It might move a little to one side—not much.

  Elaine: It might teeter a little then balance, but not really. (She is covering all the possibilities.)

  Rachel: It might balance.

  Pat: It will balance pretty much.

  [. . .]

  Gary: I think it’s just going to go down—that’s safer.

  [. . .]

  Gil: May go down a little and then come back up.

  Garry: It will be about even.

  Betty: I sort of think it’s going to balance.

  [. . .]

  Betty: I’ll say it will, just in case it does, so we won’t get too low a score.

  It’s incredible how the students will do anything to get out of the spotlight, so that they wouldn’t look foolish.

  Later, John begins to throw away the teacher disguise and work with kids individually. Doing so, he realizes that students who supposedly know fifth-grade math are too unsure of themselves to even count by two. He works with them to rebuild their math knowledge from the beginning, but they still don’t seem to remember what they’re taught. After more of these experiences he gives up on teaching.

  In his later book, How Children Learn, he decides to stop teaching and simply spend time with children. He starts with his small baby cousins, noticing that they are relentless scientists, always observing and experimenting. He documents their scientific inquiry as they begin to grow, read, talk, and play games. Soon enough, he begins visiting classrooms, bringing interesting toys with him and starting to play with them himself. Soon enough, the children go over to play with them, and begin to learn from them.

  John does his best not to interfere—to let the children learn and discover on their own time. His only job is to give them very small nudges in the right direction and to provide moral support. One day he decides to bring the balance beam back and simply sets it in the back of the room, saying only that it’s “just some junk I got from Bill Hull. [. . .] Nothing special; mess around with it if you want to.” They began to do just that and half an hour later they all figured out how to work it.

  I gave one of them one of the problems that in earlier years had given very able students so much trouble. She solved it easily and showed that she knew what she was doing. I said, “You have any trouble figuring that out?” She said, “Oh no, it was cinchy.”

  He explains it thus:

  [The first set of children all had trouble] in spite of the fact that we—or so we thought—had done everything possible to set up a situation that would make discovery more easy. We worked with the children in small groups; we gave each child an easy problem; we encouraged the other children to say whether the solution to the problem was correct, and if not, why. We thought we had set up our class as a laboratory in miniature, and that the children would accordingly act as scientists. But we hadn’t, and they didn’t, for just for this reason, that it was our problem they were working on and not theirs.

  Sadly, while it’s clear to many that this kind of free exploration and discovery is the best way to learn, many teachers see it as a threat. They want to be, as John explains, “a tyrant [you better do this!] and a saint [you’ll thank me for it later].” Worse, even well-meaning teachers have to throw away such toys so they stay on track with the curriculum—they can’t be late for the next stop on the “Ivy League Express.” But children don’t learn that way. Instead, they hide, play dumb, forget, weasel their way out, or trick you. Worse, they begin to think that this is how to behave in every situation. But Holt gives the hope of another way.

  I’ve only given you the smallest bit of the wealth of wisdom that is in these books. I encourage anyone who works at a school, or believes in one, to read a copy of How Children Fail—it has certainly taught me more about how my classmates think than I’ve been able to realize through years of being with them. Furthermore, it makes clear through simple stories why teaching plain doesn’t work. Currently, John Holt’s work is being continued by Holt Associates, which publishes his books and other materials.

  Anyone with small children should really read How Children Learn. It describes in detail just that process, and by example, provides ways to keep your children learning their entire life, rather than hating the whole thing and quitting as soon as possible, as too many children do. For some children, it may be too late to unlearn the bad habits they learned in school, but it is certainly never too early.

  Apprentice Education

  http://web.archive.org/web/20020306075407/http://www.swartzfam.com:82/aaron/school/2001/02/19/

  February 19, 2001

  Age 14

  I was recently asked my opinion on how to best teach computer science. Being rather opinionated about such things, I prepared a rather long answer to the question. I soon realized that the plan was of general use, and that I hadn’t written it up yet, so here it is.

  This proposal, like most things, has its roots in history (both my own and that of my country). Starting with more general history, I remind you that education was originally practiced through a system of apprenticeship. One teacher would teach perhaps one or two pupils (generally their children) with hands-on, real-life experience in the trade. The system worked rather well.

  Despite its success, as time continued on we began to move to a system of mandatory schooling. This system, while generally offering a broader choice of career options, also brought with it numerous problems. It detached students from their important one-on-one relationship with their teachers, separated what they learned from how it was used, and taught students the lessons of institutionalization instead of practicality. Now, when systems approximating apprenticeship are used, they are usually called modern or new-age educational methods.

  H
owever, despite the success of the current schoolhouse system, very little practical information was actually learned in school. The vast majority of education now takes place on the job, with a system just like the apprenticeship of history. Even more importantly perhaps, the ever-developing fields of technology, where new terms and ideas are being created every day, is next to impossible to teach in schools, and so people generally don’t even try to. Many of the best programmers are self-taught, or are at least able to learn most of what they need to know on their own.

  In terms of my personal history, I learned how to program myself through reading programs others had written, and asking questions about them on the web. Responses to my naive questions were generally courteous and almost always helpful. I got back responses extremely quickly—rarely longer than a day. And through this method I eventually learned to program. I took no preset course, and had no usual instruction. However, while I was able to learn to program through this method, there is no similar system to learn to program well, which is usually something altogether different.

  So all of this leads me to my proposal on how to teach students for any given field. First, find a group of kind, older, wise, and respected people in the field and get them on the Internet. Then, take a group of brash, young, naive, and impatient kids who are interested [in the] field and have them do the same. Then, bring the two together and watch the magic happen.