John Holt
Do you know who John Holt was?
Isn’t it strange how someone can come up with an idea and share it with other people and have the idea take on life and flesh of its own, independent of the person, to the extent that it is no longer associated with the one who gave it birth? These days I speak to educators and unschoolers who have never read one of his books, and some who, so sadly, do not even know who John Holt was! And yet, when you pick up one of his books for yourself and read it, you cannot believe it. It is just not possible that so generous, so loving and so imminently sensible a man could ever be forgotten.
I for one will never forget, and in my mind the words ‘unschooling’ and ‘John Holt’ are synonymous. There is scarcely a day that passes in which I do not thank God for His gracious kindness in leading my stumbling footsteps across the writings of this wonderful person. I deeply love and respect the heart of the man that comes through in the pages of his books. And I am forever indebted to him for his rich insights about children.
It is my privilege to own and to have read all the published books of John Holt. As a young man he taught in a small school. He kept diaries of his classroom experiences and observations which grew into 2 books – How Children Learn (1967; revised 1983), and How Children Fail (1964; revised 1982). With time, he began to question what he saw in schools, and he wrote down the questions he was asking and the conclusions he was drawing. He wrote 10 books in all. Over and over again his plea was that we treat children with great respect – that we respect their boundaries and their personhood and their capacity to learn.
As I read these two books, I found myself in tears over and over again. I realized that I had to go deeper. Change is hard, and the books were a mirror, showing me where I had to change. I had kept my children home from school because I did not believe in the values, norms, socialization, ethics, agenda methodologies and curricula of schools. Now I felt challenged to go further, to release educational control to my children; to be a good parental authority in their lives by drawing and enforcing clear boundary lines, but giving them all the freedom there is to run and play; like lambs, to enjoy the lovely green pasture within those boundaries.
Dear John Holt. I am sure that he and I would have debated many matters pertaining to a philosophy of education if we had ever been given opportunity to do so. And how I wish we had had that opportunity. I know he would have been a candle to my thinking, showing up incongruence and errors, challenging concepts and perceptions, but also delighting in where my explorations led me. I think, deep down inside, that he would have liked what he saw in my children, and that it would have made a small contribution to his feeling that the struggles he had gone through in defining unschooling had been worthwhile.
The foundation in what he said — and said over and over and over again in all sorts of different ways — is that learning is to humans what swimming is to fish – something we do naturally, without even thinking, all the time. We do not need to be taught in order to learn. We do not need to be in a specially prepared environment in order to learn. We do not need the intervention of others in order to learn. What a freeing idea, if one can just grab hold of it! So often parents, teachers and carers of children think that it is all up to them! As if the child was some piece of clay to mould…
Of course this does not mean that learning cannot be facilitated. A rich learning environment, and assistance from others can be very useful indeed. But so much of what is done in the guise of helping is actually a hindrance.
One’s beginning point makes all the difference. Do I get involved in someone's learning experience with respect and sensitivity, understanding that the mind of the learner is fully equipped to learn? Or do I perceive myself as some sort of Superhero, flying in to make all the difference as the learner passively and expectantly waits to be fed? My conviction on this will determine everything that follows.
Because learning is natural to humans, the child must have REAL, first-person, hands-on contact with the world and its wonders; not static, stationary interpretations of that world via pre-prepared external curricula and learning outcome goals. Mary Griffith, in the Unschooling Handbook, speaks of ‘using the whole world as your child’s classroom’.
Life is beautiful. Who saw the movie with that name? Who saw a father, against all odds, and in the most difficult of circumstances, convey that message to his son? Life is beautiful. It is wonderful. It is a gift. And so I am left asking the questions: In my comfortable, modern life, with all its hidden pressures and expectations, am I telling my children this? Am I encouraging them to go out and take hold of life for themselves? Or am I confining them within the limitations of my own experience and discoveries, my own fears and anxieties?
Have I stopped to consider that this child is not only in my life to receive wisdom from me, but also to impart wisdom to me?
The writings of John Holt free each of us to learn alongside our children, helping us understand that we are embarked together on a rich adventure of discovery that ultimately brings us so much closer to one another and to our God, the Creator of all.
Isn’t it strange how someone can come up with an idea and share it with other people and have the idea take on life and flesh of its own, independent of the person, to the extent that it is no longer associated with the one who gave it birth? These days I speak to educators and unschoolers who have never read one of his books, and some who, so sadly, do not even know who John Holt was! And yet, when you pick up one of his books for yourself and read it, you cannot believe it. It is just not possible that so generous, so loving and so imminently sensible a man could ever be forgotten.
I for one will never forget, and in my mind the words ‘unschooling’ and ‘John Holt’ are synonymous. There is scarcely a day that passes in which I do not thank God for His gracious kindness in leading my stumbling footsteps across the writings of this wonderful person. I deeply love and respect the heart of the man that comes through in the pages of his books. And I am forever indebted to him for his rich insights about children.
It is my privilege to own and to have read all the published books of John Holt. As a young man he taught in a small school. He kept diaries of his classroom experiences and observations which grew into 2 books – How Children Learn (1967; revised 1983), and How Children Fail (1964; revised 1982). With time, he began to question what he saw in schools, and he wrote down the questions he was asking and the conclusions he was drawing. He wrote 10 books in all. Over and over again his plea was that we treat children with great respect – that we respect their boundaries and their personhood and their capacity to learn.
As I read these two books, I found myself in tears over and over again. I realized that I had to go deeper. Change is hard, and the books were a mirror, showing me where I had to change. I had kept my children home from school because I did not believe in the values, norms, socialization, ethics, agenda methodologies and curricula of schools. Now I felt challenged to go further, to release educational control to my children; to be a good parental authority in their lives by drawing and enforcing clear boundary lines, but giving them all the freedom there is to run and play; like lambs, to enjoy the lovely green pasture within those boundaries.
Dear John Holt. I am sure that he and I would have debated many matters pertaining to a philosophy of education if we had ever been given opportunity to do so. And how I wish we had had that opportunity. I know he would have been a candle to my thinking, showing up incongruence and errors, challenging concepts and perceptions, but also delighting in where my explorations led me. I think, deep down inside, that he would have liked what he saw in my children, and that it would have made a small contribution to his feeling that the struggles he had gone through in defining unschooling had been worthwhile.
The foundation in what he said — and said over and over and over again in all sorts of different ways — is that learning is to humans what swimming is to fish – something we do naturally, without even thinking, all the time. We do not need to be taught in order to learn. We do not need to be in a specially prepared environment in order to learn. We do not need the intervention of others in order to learn. What a freeing idea, if one can just grab hold of it! So often parents, teachers and carers of children think that it is all up to them! As if the child was some piece of clay to mould…
Of course this does not mean that learning cannot be facilitated. A rich learning environment, and assistance from others can be very useful indeed. But so much of what is done in the guise of helping is actually a hindrance.
One’s beginning point makes all the difference. Do I get involved in someone's learning experience with respect and sensitivity, understanding that the mind of the learner is fully equipped to learn? Or do I perceive myself as some sort of Superhero, flying in to make all the difference as the learner passively and expectantly waits to be fed? My conviction on this will determine everything that follows.
Because learning is natural to humans, the child must have REAL, first-person, hands-on contact with the world and its wonders; not static, stationary interpretations of that world via pre-prepared external curricula and learning outcome goals. Mary Griffith, in the Unschooling Handbook, speaks of ‘using the whole world as your child’s classroom’.
Life is beautiful. Who saw the movie with that name? Who saw a father, against all odds, and in the most difficult of circumstances, convey that message to his son? Life is beautiful. It is wonderful. It is a gift. And so I am left asking the questions: In my comfortable, modern life, with all its hidden pressures and expectations, am I telling my children this? Am I encouraging them to go out and take hold of life for themselves? Or am I confining them within the limitations of my own experience and discoveries, my own fears and anxieties?
Have I stopped to consider that this child is not only in my life to receive wisdom from me, but also to impart wisdom to me?
The writings of John Holt free each of us to learn alongside our children, helping us understand that we are embarked together on a rich adventure of discovery that ultimately brings us so much closer to one another and to our God, the Creator of all.
