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 Fairhaven School’s Theatre Corporation is staging Kesserling’s comedy “Arsenic And Old Lace” for a second weekend this Saturday and Sunday. Doors open at 7:00. Approximately one-third of the school has been involved, from acting to directing, from set-building to stage crew. It’s a barrel of laughs, and a lovely testament to what a Sudbury education can be!
Pasted below are a bunch of photos from former Fairhaven School Assembly member and professional photographer Antonio Amador.
Click here to see all of the photos.
Click here to purchase prints.
(Reprinted here with permission, a blog post from Frome School founder Guy Wilson. http://fromefreeschool.co.uk/
Best wishes to Guy and his start-up group as they open a Sudbury school in the United Kingdom!)
After seven hours of traffic jams and motorways, my family and I are bored rigid. Our aging golden Labrador snores sonorously in the back of the VW Fastback. Muffet is virtually blind and suffers from arthritis… this may be the last of her annual trips to the Berwickshire seaside.
At last we arrive. We get out of the car at the much-loved gate that heralds the entrance to our beloved summertime retreat.
At that moment, something miraculous occurs.
Muffet leaps out. She wags her tail vigorously and runs to the cliff-edge, drawing in the brisk sea breeze, re-charging her batteries. She bounds around like a puppy, greeting old friends with licks and yelps of excitement. She darts about from person to door to garden to gate in a mad display of excitement. The rest of us are soon copying, getting caught up in the act, whooping and laughing with the fun of it all.
The tension of the drive has gone, we all feel exuberant and the rest of the day has a freedom and ease that we haven’t felt since we were last there.
This scene illustrates what a surge of recent research is telling us about the power of play. Most obviously, play is fun; it enlivens us; it relieves tension; it makes us happy; it seems to open us up to new possibilities.
Consider, however, that this is just the tip of the iceberg. Neuroscientists, developmental biologists, psychologists and social scientists now know that play is in fact a profound biological process. It actually makes us smart and lies at the very core of creativity. It is fundamental to all profound learning. Stuart Brown, author of Play (2009) says that play actually “shapes the brain”. He explains that the more playful an animal is, the bigger its brain (compared to body size). New brain-imagining techniques show that brain activity is at its greatest when mammals are engaged in play activities. Neural and cognitive connections get created, even when we’re a bit long in the tooth. The brain is literally being built and re-designed as we play.
Witness how play is now used in large corporations to foster creativity and team-work. When I worked in the City, the whole atmosphere in the office was one of play. High fives and laughing, flirting and boozing. Playfulness kept us all going, lightened the atmosphere and gave us the kind of working environment we needed to cope with vast workloads and huge amounts of stress.
Brown goes as far as to say that “play is the basis of all art, music, books, sports, films, fashion and fun –that it is in fact the basis of culture”. Now kiddos, there’s a good excuse for not doing your homework. “But I just wanna play, Mummy. Stuart Brown says….”
In his blog “Freedom to Learn”, Peter Gray adds that “Play in our species serves many valuable purposes. It is a means by which children develop their physical, intellectual, emotional, linguistic, social, and moral capacities. It is a means of creating and preserving friendships. It also provides a state of mind that, in adults as well as children, is uniquely suited for high-level reasoning, insightful problem solving, and all sorts of creative endeavors.” Now hang on a minute there, Peter, surely that’s one for Mr Gove. Our Education Secretary needs to know that human beings are intrinsically ludic. Double play on a Monday morning from now on, everybody.
Brown also tells us that “The opposite of play is not work. It’s depression.” If Barack Obama understood this, would he still be saying that kids need to “spend more daytime hours in school, with longer school days, school weeks and school years” (quoted from Danny Weill in Counterpunch magazine)? No. When humans are brought up without play, they become incurious, materialistic, angry, self-centred and boring.
True, economists argue, workers tend to be more manageable after 14 years of doing what they’re told, thereby contributing better to the country’s economy. But what’s the flip side? Just listen to Todd Kashdan, author of a recent book entitled Curious: “We know that novel, engaging, curious activities reverse the cognitive decline of old age,” he says. “We can extrapolate that extensive levels of boredom could have the opposite effect… Science shows you can die of boredom, literally.” Yes folks, it’s official. Playlessness kills.
This week I have been seeking advice from state-funded Sudbury Schools in Denmark, Germany and Israel (yes, good news for Frome Free School: there are already enlightened governments out there who fund democratic free education), as well as the oldest and most famous democratic school of all, Summerhill, which has been running for 86 years. In these radical schools, children literally play all day, in mixed age groups. Contrary to popular assumptions, their educational results are very persuasive. All of Summerhill’s students this year went on to further or higher education, for example. And get this from Dan Greenberg, co-founder of Sudbury Valley School: “Every single Sudbury Valley student who has ever wanted to has gone on to college education.” SVS has been going for 42 years.
Greenberg continues: “The last thing any parent wants today is a child who will be good at following strict orders that somebody else lays down. That is the kiss of death. That is a guarantee of a poor economic future. The best future anyone can ask for is a child who’s inventive, who is a self-starter, who is imaginative, who can overcome failure … not afraid to try things out.” Anyone who has worked in the modern world knows Greenberg is right. Industrial-type jobs have mercifully now been taken by robots. We no longer need to be taught to do as we’re told. The implications for schools and parents alike are huge.
So what is play, exactly? Well, it seems to be different for different people. Play can involve anything from running around, rough and tumble, exploring, building, role-play, make believe, formal games, or just reading a book. You’ll be able to add to my list, I’m sure, because to me, the secret weapon that play represents is essentially ontological. By this I mean that play is more a way of being than a definable set of actions. Children brought up being happy are likely to continue being happy through adulthood, because ‘happy’ is who they have become. The more time children spend at play, the more their essential qualities as human beings become those associated with play. Energised, alert, creative, focused, smart, empathic, joyful, “in the zone”, skilful, empowered, imaginative, stimulated, physically fit, free, healthy, curious, constructive, cooperative, egalitarian, autonomous, social. These are the qualities we want for our children. We could live our whole lives at play, in fact, and be incredibly successful. Lots of rich people do just that.
I’d like to leave you with a quote from a Zen Buddhist master: “A person who is a master in the art of living makes little distinction between their work and their play, their labour and their leisure, their mind and their body, their education and their recreation, their love and their religion. They hardly know which is which and simply pursue their vision of excellence and grace, whatever they do, leaving others to decide whether they are working or playing. To them they are always doing both.”
“Play has to be THE core activity of any post-industrial educational institution”, writes Greenberg. This is why, at Frome Free School, we want mixed aged play to be at the heart of our curriculum.
Over the next few weeks, I intend to explore how play contributes to other areas of development, such as morality, reasoning, responsibility, equality and sustainability. If you have any questions about how these theories are going to apply to Frome Free School in reality, please do feel free to post.
For the month of January, Fairhaven School hosted Monika Wernz, a visitor from a startup Sudbury school group in Munich. From the beginning, we have welcomed visitors from all over the world to our campus. On the one hand, we want to support growth and awareness of the Sudbury approach to education. On the other hand, visitors who understand the model are a gift to our community, enriching all of our lives. As usual, Fairhaven School families generously hosted Monika for the month.
For several months, Monika has visited numerous schools Sudbury and democratic schools across the globe, and she has been posting photos and text via her blog. Although the text is in German, her photos are stunning, and I encourage you to check them out!
http://www.sudbury-muenchen.de/aktuelles/sudburyschulen-live-blog.html
(Scrolling down to the bottom of the page will reveal a few Fairhaven School posts, with links to more at the bottom of the page.)
Monika plans to compile her photos and writings in a book as a promotional tool not only for her nascent school, but also as a boon to all of the Sudbury schools. To that end, Fairhaven School’s PR Committee voted to approve the use of Fairhaven School photos in her project. We look forward to seeing the book in the near future.
Many thanks for visiting, Monika, and good luck with your school!
Mark McCaig
February, 2011
 Showing students a snake. Two months ago, C., a twelve-year-old student, obtained permission from School Meeting to volunteer every Thursday at the nearby Clearwater Nature Center in pursuit of his Junior Naturalist certification. Two weeks ago, as a component of his training, he co-hosted a live animal demonstration in the Chesapeake Room with his supervisor.
He and the school are thrilled that we have the flexibility to allow him to pursue this passion as part of his education. We also appreciate C. and the Nature Center for sharing their animals and expertise with the school. Our students sat in rapt attention for nearly two hours as C. and his supervisor showed us a screech owl, a red-shouldered hawk, a black snake, a milk snake, a toad, a lizard, and a hissing cockroach. Their patience with our questions was exemplary. Afterward, our guest commented on the quality of the questions our students asked.
 ...and a lizard. Sometimes, the unique quality of Fairhaven School can be difficult to convey, and has to be seen and heard to be believed. Just like live animals…
 Our naturalist guest and C. compare snakes. Mark McCaig
February, 2011
Understanding Fairhaven School often involves what we do. To name but a few things I’ve seen this week, students here have been spending their days creating, playing, thinking, debating, reading, writing, running, dancing, swinging, acting, voting, drumming, climbing, and drawing. (See the earlier post linking to Sudbury Valley School’s new video or the many previous posts to learn more about what we do.)
Nevertheless, understanding our approach can also include a fresh look at what we don’t do. Below is a link to a video outlining Sir Ken Robinson’s analysis of the current educational climate, including the origins of compulsory schooling, the ADHD “epidemic,” and the centrality of creativity and collaboration in successful schools. We offer it as another building block in understanding Fairhaven School. Enjoy.
Mark McCaig
February, 2011
\”RSA Animate – Changing Education Paradigms\” on YouTube
The best book I read in 2010 (and one I’ve used in my Creative Writing class here at school) might just be expatriate poet Gustaf Sobin’s essay collection Luminous Debris: Reflecting On Vestige In Provence And Languedoc. In it the late author writes brief meditative essays about prehistoric artifacts in southern France, his home for the last thirty years of his life. His subjects include a Bronze age earring, a human skull with a seashell ear, votive mirrors, and toponyms (place names.) A slow read, to be sure, yet one that connects the past with the present, archeology with ontology, and the reader with both himself and others.
The second chapter in Part III is entitled Undulant-Oblique: A Study Of Wave Patterns On Ionico-Massalian Pottery. Among the fragments and potsherds of his ideas, I found some passages that called to mind, out of nowhere, the process of Sudbury education. In the ceramic remains found in what is present-day Marseilles, Sobin identifies a clear break in decorative patterns on pottery from more organic forms to more linear, circumscribed forms. He writes the following:
***
“…From an elemental vision of emergence, notions of number, of discrete units of articulated time, increasingly predominated. The potter’s hand could only follow. Indeed, in Henri Maldaney’s words, “measure had introduced the idea of limit (peras) into the midst of the limitless (aperion). Between these two extremes, the destiny of rhythm itself would unfold: would die, finally, from inertia, from dissipation.” Would die, finally, with the Latin, cadare, cadentia, the mechanical breath-fall of our own acquired notions of “cadence.”
With the ossification of the wave pattern, we become witness to the cryptic birth of a certain technological ideation. Traveling from Logos to Eidos, we reach- in an amazingly brief period of time- the very thresholds of concept, an order of thought that no longer needs to acknowledge its own origins, inception, emergence. In recognizing no antecedent, it cannot, in turn, generate sequence, translate energy. Static, self-sufficing, it can do little more than replicate- ex nihilo- its own formulations.”
***
Haven’t schools followed a similar movement towards ossification? Don’t Sudbury schools defy the rigidity of compulsory schools? If, on so many levels, “the line” is the Ur-symbol of traditional schools (lining up for recess, the hierarchical line of school administration, the linear curriculum, etc.), isn’t “the wave” the symbol of Sudbury schools (follow your curiosity and interests, flow through your day, pursue the arts, etc.)? Sobin’s observations about emergence and older patterns seem to replicate the very essence of Fairhaven School.
To be clear, notions of time, conceptualization, numbers and order are crucially present here on campus. However, they do not predominate at the expense of less rigid forms. Furthermore, a school that transmits and allows more of an undulant pattern does not necessarily mean an easier school. (The opposite is often true.) However, a Sudbury school does create a place and students more attuned to the actual rhythms of the very lives our students live. Sobin closes his essay this way:
***
“How can we but marvel, discovering one of these potsherds ourselves? At Saint Blaise, for instance, after the winter rains, a fragment may inch its way to the surface out of some excavated cross section. Examining the supple lash of its undulations whipping their way across this all too abbreviated fragment, we might find ourselves wondering what is it, exactly, if not current itself. If not the still-living filament to a lost luminosity. If not, indeed, the limpid inscription that has somehow survived (like Heraclitus’s fragments) its vernal discourse. We might find ourselves asking these questions as we hold the potsherd between thumb and forefinger. Hold it like some kind of key. Hold it like some very particular kind of key to some very particular kind of door. The door, alas, has long since vanished.”
***
Or has it? I submit to Sobin’s readers that here at Fairhaven School and our sister schools around the world, his “lost luminosity” still vibrates, in the eyes and minds of our students, on the pottery wheel in the art room, and in the woods outside. His doors have not vanished. Here, we still hold the keys to “a very particular kind of door,” and that door is open.
Mark McCaig
January, 2011
Sobin, Gustaf
Luminous Debris: Reflecting On Vestige In Provence And Languedoc.
University Of California Press, 1999
In the latest installment in its forty-three effort to explain and promote the Sudbury model of education, our colleagues at Sudbury Valley School have produced a new video. It is lovely, and features a student named Ben whose thesis defense I had the pleasure of approving last spring (along with Stephanie Sarantos from Clearwater School in Washington state and Jen Schwartz from Sego Lily Schol in Utah.)
We hope this video gives you another layer or two of understanding what Sudbury Valley has been doing all these years, and what Fairhaven School has been up to for thirteen years.
Just follow this link to the video:
Sudbury Valley Video
Mark McCaig
January, 2011
This post by Shoshona London Sappir appeared on the blog of Michael Sappir, a graduate of the Jerusalem Sudbury School. (Michael writes often on issues of education at http://sappir.net.)
A few years ago my husband and I attended a lecture by linguist Ghil’ad Zuckermann, presenting a provocative theory: the Hebrew we speak today is closer to the European languages of the early Zionists than it is to classical Hebrew, even though most of its vocabulary is Hebrew; therefore, Zuckermann proposed, it would be more accurate to call it “Israeli” than “Hebrew,” letting go of the romantic notion that Israelis today speak the language of the Bible. Our conversation about this idea went on for days after we came home, sweeping up the whole family; later, Michael even wrote a term paper about it.
So it was only natural that when I saw the translators’ association to which I belong had scheduled another lecture about the genealogy of Modern Hebrew, I asked if anybody would like to go with me. Perry said he would and we both looked forward to a pleasant evening in Tel Aviv. I dutifully registered in advance. Next to Perry’s name I added: “14 years old.”
On the hour-plus drive we discussed the upcoming lecture. The speaker was a researcher who was studying the structures of spoken Hebrew and was going to present us with her findings as to whether they had more in common with European languages or with Hebrew, and whether, indeed, this language was Hebrew. Perry was already inclined to believe it was not, because he cannot understand the Bible without an intense explanation or translation: he welcomed the new translation of the Bible into Modern Hebrew and has begun reading it.
At the registration desk a colleague of mine searched for my name on the list, crossed it out and started writing me an invoice. I noticed the total she had entered, and started to protest, “what about him?” – but thought the better of it mid-sentence and shut my mouth; if minors got free admission, who was I to argue?
During the lecture we tried not to disturb anyone with our excited whispering and exchanges of meaningful looks of agreement, surprise or exasperation over certain points in the presentation or behaviors by members of the audience: one woman stormed out not ten minutes into the lecture, shouting at the speaker: “Shame on you!” for doubting the unbroken chain between ancient and modern Hebrew. Another translator prefaced a question about the effectiveness of correcting linguistic “mistakes,” by saying: “If my 15-year-old son had his way, he would spend his whole life lazing in front of the computer and television,” which elicited a room full of nods and sighs of agreement. Perry and I rolled our eyes at each other and clenched our teeth, as if to say: “Just look how people talk about children.”
On our way out of the room for the break, one of my friends turned to Perry, and asked in a kind but patronizing tone: “So, did you fall asleep?” More awake than ever, Perry replied with a startled: “Huh?”
Suddenly I started seeing a pattern: my friend was assuming Perry wasn’t there of his own will but was forced to suffer in boredom while he waited for his mother. As if a child couldn’t possibly come to a lecture out of interest, just like we did. Could that be why they hadn’t charged him admission? Just by looking at him and noting he is of school age, did everyone take it for granted I made him come because I didn’t have a babysitter? Did the organizers let him in for free as a favor to me, allowing me to use an extra seat because they thought I had nowhere else to park him?
It reminded me of the story about the guy who comes to a movie theater box office carrying a crocodile under his arm, and says: “Two, please.” The teller says: “Sir, don’t you think you should take that crocodile to the zoo?” “Thanks,” he answers, “but we already went this morning.”
Sitting down in the lounge with our refreshments, we analyzed the evening. We agreed that people were so upset by their preconceptions’ being challenged that they hardly let the lecturer speak, interrupting her with questions and comments from the beginning.
The next day I sent an e-mail to a colleague whom I had seen at the lecture, with some information she had asked for. On a personal note, I added: “My son really enjoyed the lecture and would like to come to future events.” To which she replied: “That is SO funny! What an adorable geek!” I answered: “What is funny is that everybody thinks he came with me because I didn’t have a babysitter. He really came because he was interested.” She replied, by way of apology: “My son’s a geek too.”
But Perry does not consider himself a “geek,” nor is he considered one by others. The idea, I gathered, is that it is unusual, and what’s more, uncool, for a teenager to pursue intellectual interests, especially at an “adult level.” The geek label implies that such a child is probably uninterested in sports, music and girls, socially awkward and unpopular, living the lonely life of the misunderstood, his best friend being his computer.
Perry knows what a geek is; he just played one in a teen musical about geeks and jocks, the American high school stereotypes. But such categories have never meant much to him. From the first grade Perry has been attending Sudbury Jerusalem, where students are not divided by age and mix freely with each other and with the staff. They are free to pursue whatever interests they have at a given time with whatever means available: play, books, the Internet, but primarily conversation with other children or adults.
Maybe it is because of this upbringing that Perry has never internalized a hierarchy of subjects of interest and activities, rating them as childish/adult, work/play, serious/frivolous, cool/geeky. He has always flowed with his interests, at times devoting intense attention to one thing and then moving on to another. In the early years of school he was very interested in climbing on door frames and walls and leaping from high perches; we nicknamed him Spiderman. He went through an Ancient Egypt period and still likes to go to the museum and decipher hieroglyphics. He spends a lot of time playing the piano. He has a rock band with some school friends. In the last couple of years he has become politically aware and sometimes comes to demonstrations with me.
Perry is still a child and we treat him like one: we support and protect him, attempt to know where he is at all times and keep him safe. But the status of child should not be a barrier that keeps him out of the adult world insofar as the environment in question poses no danger to him. He is just as mentally capable as any adult of hearing a lecture about the Hebrew language, and a lot more open-minded than some language professionals.
Sometimes we are startled to be reminded we live in a world where adults have such a skewed view of children: if they spend a lot of time on their computers, like us, they are presumably brain-dead. If they show signs of interest in their culture, they are freaks. I suppose the ideal, non-threatening child, in this view, would be penned up in his classroom with other members of his ilk, dutifully performing age-approved tasks dictated by adults – but not too enthusiastically.
Shoshona London Sappir
(reprinted with permission)
Some things don’t change. In an era of increasing homework, we are buoyed by this this quotation from 1860 reprinted as part of The Scientific American’s 50/100/150 feature:
Against Homework
“A child who has been boxed up six hours in school might spend the next four hours in study, but it is impossible to develop the child’s intellect in this way. The laws of nature are inexorable. By dint of great and painful labor, the child may succeed in repeating a lot of words, like a parrot, but, with the power of its brain all exhausted, it is out of the question for it to really master and comprehend its lessons. The effect of the system is to enfeeble the intellect even more than the body. We never see a little girl staggering home under a load of books, or knitting her brow over them at eight o’clock in the evening, without wondering that our citizens do not arm themselves at once with carving knives, pokers, clubs, paving stones or any weapons at hand, and chase out the managers of our common schools, as they would wild beasts that were devouring their children.”
October, 2010
http://www.scientificamerican.com/article.cfm?id=50-100-150-oct-2010
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