NHEG-Magazine-September-October

www.NewHeightsEducation.org
Schools Have
Created a
Generation of
Permit Pattys
and BBQ Beckys
www.NewHeightsEducation.org
You can study how to Yet this is a skill that A) isn’t taught in any traditional school curriculum, and B) is best learned
through experience and observation in the real world. Simulations only do so well. You can study how to de-escalate
situations. You can study how to calm people down. At the end of the day, however, knowing how to de-escalate when
your emotions run high and you want to call the cops is a different experience altogether.
Psychologist Peter Gray’s research of unschooled and Sudbury Valley schoolchildren presents a strong case that traditional,
command-control schools miss an important opportunity to let young people develop dispute resolution skills.
His book, Free to Learn, notes that very few cases of conflict are brought to Sudbury Valley staff because the children
reach conclusions on their own. Unschooled adults surveyed by Gray note opportunities to take up internships and get
real-world experience learning these skills. Meanwhile, their command-control schooled peers sit in classrooms.
In my own experience working with recent grads, high schoolers, homeschoolers, and unschoolers, I’ve noticed a striking
sense of maturity in the average homeschooler and unschooler. Contrary to the stereotype that they can’t get around
without their parents’ help, they hold their own under pressure just as well and often better than their peers in traditional
schools. At 18, they often seem more like adults and less like children.
John Taylor Gatto wrote that adolescence is a new invention created by scientific managers to extend childhood into
young adulthood. If Permit Patty and BBQ Becky become the norm, childhood will extend well past young adulthood.
Maybe we should go a step further and abolish childhood altogether.
Source: The Foundation for Economic Education (FEE)
https://fee.org/
By Zak Slayback
Wednesday, June 27, 2018
It seems like every week there’s a new Permit Patty (a grown woman who called the police on an eight-year-old selling
water without a permit), BBQ Becky (another grown woman who called the police on a man BBQing without a permit), or
someone who calls the police on a lemonade stand.
Beyond being an irritant and filling society with busybodies of the worst type—who calls the police on kids?—these people
are indicative of something deeper. These people are indicative of the infantilization of the American adult.
Schools, Tattletales, and the Permission-Based Mindset
One of the defining characteristics of a child is an inability to solve disputes well. When somebody throws a temper
tantrum, you tell them, “You’re acting like a child,” “grow up,” and “act like an adult.” But these Permit Pattys and BBQ
Beckys run rampant through society. Although it is unclear if they are more common, they are more powerful. They have
more permits, licenses, and regulations backing them up. They have larger police forces more prone to enforcing regulations
than stopping violent crime. And, as in many lemonade stand cases, they have the anonymity of not knowing their
neighbors well.
Make no mistake about it: calling the police on nonviolent license offenses is the adult equivalent of throwing a temper
tantrum on the playground, except the temper tantrum doesn’t have a chance of ending in shots fired.
The mature adult approach to each of these cases is to remonstrate with the offending party and have a conversation
leading to a conclusion that is either win-win or a compromise. If that’s not possible, deference to social pressures and
norms like not wanting to offend your neighbors should come before involving armed police officers.
What should we expect after putting people in an environment for the first two decades of their lives that rewards a noquestions-asked
deference to authority and being a tattletale? Schools deprive young people of practicing the skill of
dispute resolution, compromise, and negotiation. In lieu of encouraging students to come to resolutions with each other,
schools reward taking problems to formal authorities who then hand down decisions with few or no alternatives for
recourse.
This deference to formal authority runs so deep in schools that students develop a permission-based mindset for everything
from going to the bathroom to borrowing a pencil. I’ve personally witnessed a number of awkward interactions
between new hires and their employers where the recent grad asks their boss if they can go to the bathroom. They’re
almost surprised when the answer is inevitably a “Yes, you’re an adult.”
This is why it’s so hard for so many young people to adjust to the real world. I’ve written elsewhere on the deschooling
period that recent grads who work outside of bureaucratic environments must put themselves through. Mature, adult
dispute resolution is one of those components of deschooling. Understanding that everything in life doesn’t require the
permission of a central authority who grants credentials is another component.
Dispute Resolution is a Skill
Nobody is born great at conflict or dispute resolution. Knowing how to de-escalate a situation, remonstrate with another
person, and reach a conclusion you're both happy with is a skill. It’s a mark of a mature individual to be calm, cool, and
collected during a conflict.
94 NHEG Magazine | September - October 2018
How My
Unschooled
Child Learned to
Read Financial
Statements (It
Started with
Silly YouTube
Videos)
By Kerry McDonald
Friday, June 29, 2018
It started with a “Dude Perfect” video on YouTube. A couple of years ago, when Jack was very interested in basketball, he
found these guys who create fun videos about making baskets with all sorts of twists and turns. He continued to watch
these videos, even after his interest in basketball waned; and when his interest in photography sprouted, he followed
the basket-swishers on Instagram. It was there that Jack first learned about the Make-A-Wish Foundation.
The "dudes" posted a video of a young boy with muscular dystrophy who had an opportunity to be in a "Dude Perfect"
YouTube video as part of Make-A-Wish's efforts to grant wishes to critically ill children. Jack was mesmerized. He visited
the Make-A-Wish Instagram page and was increasingly curious.
He wanted to know how much Make-A-Wish's total annual donations amounted to.
Jack then asked if I knew about the organization. I said I had a vague understanding of their mission, but suggested he
visit their website to find out more. He read to me the gripping story about the organization's beginnings to its current
impact. I was in tears. He explored much of the site, reading more stories and learning more about the different chapters.
He decided to make an online donation, giving 20 percent of his total savings to this organization that captivated
him. He wanted to know how much Make-A-Wish's total annual donations amounted to. I suggested he search on
Wikipedia, but he couldn't find the information there so he returned to the organization's website and downloaded their
2017 annual report and analyzed their audited financial statements to determine annual revenue and expenses, all on
his own.
Were you voluntarily reading financial statements at age nine? I certainly wasn't. And I'm fairly certain that the first time
I read one was to prepare for a test, not because I was personally curious about an organization's economic health.
September - October 2018 | NHEG Magazine 95