 From the Archives: photo taken January, 2014 It's surprising what you discover when you step back from the daily grind and look back at the past. This week I've been building a presentation for the SOAR class I'm facilitating on April 1st — and to avoid relying solely on recent photos, I started digging through the archives dating back to 2013. That is over 12 years of weekly essays! Many of those posts — even the ones written before we had many members — could have been written yesterday. My writing has improved over the years, but the core content holds up remarkably well. That realization was deeply gratifying. It means our philosophy and methodology have remained consistent from the very beginning, unchanged despite outside pressures: the misunderstanding of self-directed learning, funding challenges, and pushback that could have led us to abandon our core beliefs. None of it moved us. Reading through them, I realized I'm sitting on a treasure trove of ideas, stories, and insights — about self-directed learning, but also about how it quietly shows up in everyday life at the Center. Over the years, many people have suggested I write a book using these posts as a foundation. I think I might finally be ready to dive in. (I tried once before, during the pandemic, attempting to sort everything into categories — only to abandon it when the sheer volume became overwhelming. That was six years ago. There's considerably more material now!) Honestly, I've felt a bit unmoored this past year and need a big project to reignite my passion and creativity. This may be it. With that in mind, I plan to begin revisiting and revising older pieces. Some may be combined, others will need little more than a light polish, and several will likely be unrecognizable from the original. I will always reference the original post and its publication date. From the Deep Root Center Blog page, you can look at any of the archives from the past twelve years. They are listed on the side by month and year. The first is this piece, written in January 2014, the month that we opened. Trust January 18, 2014 This is a post I'd been trying to write for a long time. The bones of it existed for months, but it never felt quite ready. Looking back, maybe there was a reason for that. Around that time, I read a memoir by Elizabeth Marshall Thomas, an author well into her eighties, known for her observations of animals and indigenous peoples in Africa — including her early work among the Ju/'hoansi (also known as the !Kung) of Namibia. She is a remarkable writer, and in one of the final chapters, she offers six rules for writing she always tries to follow. The sixth is about revision. Her suggestion: remove the sentence you are most proud of. Brutal — and effective. Ego has no place in good writing. I'll admit, some of my posts were written at the last minute with very little editing. This one deserved better. At its core, this piece is about trust. I have to believe that what I put into the world is the best I have to offer in that moment — and that the people reading it will receive the message for what it is. I have been passionate about trusting kids for a long time. Trust that they know what they need to become the best versions of themselves. Trust in their abilities, their insights, the goodness of their hearts. Trust that they will make mistakes, mess up, and make bad decisions — and that, as with all missteps, they will learn from the experience and carry that knowledge forward. Trust that they are not wasting time when it looks like they're "doing nothing." They are learning, growing beings absorbing information every moment of every day, because it is genuinely impossible to do nothing. As parents and teachers, we cannot judge what learning looks like — or, more importantly, what experiences are valuable for a particular person at a particular moment. We grow frustrated when kids can't seem to motivate themselves to do what we consider important. But we rarely stop to ask whether we've allowed them to be self-directed. Many children are told what to do constantly — at home, at school, and socially. They are bombarded with instructions: do this, don't do that, hurry up, sit still. Is it any wonder they haven't developed the skills for independent decision-making? Society makes the decisions for them. And it is our fear for their futures — not their incapacity — that drives us to micromanage their lives. I wear both hats: parent and mentor/facilitator. I have two teenagers, one of whom is homeschooled and the other is in college. There are moments I have to physically bite my tongue to keep unsolicited, judgmental comments from escaping. I am not always successful — some of those comments have pressure behind them. But I try most of the time to trust them to make the best choice available to them at that moment. When they ask for advice, I learn to pause before answering: Does he actually need me to solve this? Can she figure this out on her own? The goal has always been to raise happy, empowered young people who can make important decisions confidently. It's just that solving things for them is faster. Easier. And that temptation never fully goes away. So how do we find the balance between controlling our kids and supporting them to become emotionally mature human beings? I believe it comes down to mutual respect and trust. When you genuinely listen to your children — when you have real conversations that include your own dreams and imperfections, not just instructions for theirs — they respond. Kids want authenticity. They need to know we aren't perfect, because none of us are; we are all learning, growing beings. They need space to think out loud without fear of ridicule. And they need, most of all, the security of unconditional love, consistent support, and the occasional moment of pure, unadulterated silliness. Because when everything else fails, a sense of humor will carry you through. DRC NewsWeekly Wrap-up On Monday, the DRC crew discovered that the Grasse River is high from all the quick snow melt this past weekend, and the sledding hill is a sheet of ice. B has enjoyed cooking lately. They made pancakes for lunch. On Tuesday, we did a quick Kitchen Sink Science experiment looking at the properties of Hydrogen Peroxide. We sprayed some on our countertops and cutting boards to see how much it bubbled. Then put raw potatoes in one beaker of peroxide and cooked potatoes in another. The raw ones bubbled and fizzed, and the cooked ones did not. It is because of an enzyme called catalase that gets cooked out. We also tested carrots because most plants contain that enzyme. The raw ones bubbled, and the cooked did not. The DRC Crew took another walk to SUNY Canton. Digby wanted to be sure he was the center of attention at the end of the day. This Thursday ended up being a very relaxed day after we had to postpone our field trip to next Thursday. The crew had the chance to dig some ditches to divert the water from our garage and the annually flooded cellar. We thought we had avoided it from the melting snow, but the heavy rain last night created a river running through it again. The two sisters created and played a game on their own that involved using plenty of math and ELA skills in the Seedlings Room with Chris. And everyone else stayed occupied with projects and conversations. Some of the crew braved the chilly spring breeze for a walk to the Grasse River and the SUNY Canton trail. We had Friday off.   SOAR Class As mentioned at the beginning of this post, I will be facilitating a SOAR class on April 1, 2026, at the Canton Free Library. If you are a senior and have wondered what Deep Root Center is all about, or want to learn more about the self-directed learning philosophy, I hope to see you there. 
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 Engaging all of our senses during the Kitchen Sink Science Experiment this week Lately, it feels like we're living inside a slow-motion catastrophe — one that is somehow, at the same time, careening toward the edge. Every day brings fresh news from a government gone rogue that has abandoned any pretense of legitimacy: propaganda churned out on an industrial scale, accountability nowhere in sight, and the guardrails stripped away so deliberately it can only be by design. I won't pretend this hasn't taken a toll. I fight daily to stay balanced, calm, and hopeful — and I'll be honest with you: this past week, I lost that battle more than once. Tuesday's full blood moon didn't help. The big feelings it stirred were real and widespread — frustration, anger, fear, anxiety — all of it feeding into how we moved through the day. There was sniping. There were sharp, critical words that didn't need to be said. A low-grade discontent settled over the Center like a weather system, and by the end of it, we were all depleted and desperate for relief. Happily, it was just one day. By Thursday and Friday, we had found our footing again — equilibrium restored, the storm passed. But I keep turning over the same question: how much of that Tuesday, full moon aside, was collateral damage from the world beyond our walls? Our kids are taking in more than we realize. One teen asked, with complete sincerity, whether it was true that this was the beginning of World War III. They absorb everything — the anxiety threading through adult voices, the headlines half-glimpsed and half-understood, the ambient dread saturating daily life — without the context or tools to process what they're sensing. Without understanding that the chaos has architects. That propaganda is real. That we are all, in ways large and small, being played. So what do we do with all of that? We keep showing up. We create spaces where kids feel safe enough to ask hard questions and honest enough to sit with uncertain answers. We model the thing we're struggling to practice ourselves — steadiness in the unsteady, hope that isn't naive, nor defeated. We name the dread without surrendering to it. The world beyond our walls may be chaotic by design, but what happens inside them is still ours to shape. That feels worth protecting. That feels worth fighting for — especially on the hard days when we fall down and fully surrender to the big feelings. DRC NewsWeekly Wrap-up It was a full week! Monday passed in a blur with no photos taken. As mentioned, on Tuesday, we were feeling some wild full moon energy at DRC. Phew! Lots of action and big(!) feelings. Thursday at DRC featured tons of chill vibes and engagement. Our Kitchen Sink Science Experiment involved testing which carb makes yeast grow the best and making predictions. Conclusion: dark corn syrup, brown sugar, sugar, and honey all made significant CO2 in that order. Flour, corn meal, and milk had negligible growth after 45 min, and the control with just yeast and water had none. One unintended variable was the fact that the dark corn syrup contains molasses. Everyone was happily doing their thing, while cool conversations swirled all day long. B began making sourdough bread to be finished on Friday. They also made yummy paella for lunch. The three siblings were in the art room, buzzing with creativity. The middle sibling proclaimed herself the superhero maker and created her siblings’ superheroes, including a detailed list of powers, along with the youngest's costume, while the oldest designed his own. Digby even got in a few cuddles at the end of the day. We had a well-deserved, very chill Friday, featuring beautiful homemade sourdough bread and drop sugar cookies, and plenty of independent projects and activities. B was very proud of their first effort in their sourdough adventure. It was delicious!  DRC Pop-ups The Pop-Ups Peeps met at the Massena Library and had a good time playing UNO and socializing. They will meet at Nicandri this coming Thursday.
DRC Fundraiser  Author's Note: Pulling from the archives this week — too many competing ideas rattling around in my head, and not enough creative energy to wrestle them into something coherent. Enjoy this revised post from February 2016.  Kitchen Sink Science experiment on Friday After our most basic needs are met, two things stand between human beings and genuine contentment: affirmation and validation. Eastern philosophy reminds us that true happiness is an inside job — it cannot be bought, bartered, or commanded. And yet, we are profoundly social creatures. Connection and belonging aren't luxuries; for members of the primate order, they are biological imperatives. History has tested what happens when human interaction is stripped away entirely. The results — from institutional experiments on infants to solitary confinement — have been devastating, and widely condemned as a form of torture. We are simply not built for isolation. It follows, then, that genuine serenity and fulfillment are nourished by something deceptively simple: being seen, appreciated, and recognized by others — our gifts acknowledged, our essential selves accepted. Which raises an uncomfortable question: if affirmation is so fundamental to human wellbeing, why is it so often the first thing we withdraw the moment someone fails to meet our expectations? In conflict, we tend to reach instinctively for punishment, shame, or manipulation rather than conversation, acknowledgment, and understanding. We treat dignity and respect as something to be earned rather than something inherently owed. This impulse is rooted, I think, in a deep cultural anxiety — a fear that freely offering compassion and cooperation will produce a spoiled, entitled society. Here's the irony: we already have one. It just isn't coming from the people we're most worried about. A system built on carrots and sticks — doling out small rewards for conformity and harsh judgment for anyone who dares step outside its lines — is neither sustainable nor morally defensible. Strip people of their dignity, tell them explicitly or otherwise that they have no inherent worth, and they will seek that worth by whatever means available. We are watching this unfold in real time: propagandists and con artists spinning lies and making promises to those who feel most unseen and unheard. These are people who have already internalized society's contempt. Shaming them won't work. Arguing them out of it won't work—neither will change their thinking or their behavior. It is not our place to decide who deserves basic human needs — food, safe shelter, supportive accommodations, empathy, encouragement, respect. Every human being does. Full stop. Our collective epilogue is being written in real time, and I'll spare you the suspense: it is not trending toward the hopeful ending most of us want. But it doesn't have to end this way. So here is my challenge to you: roll up your sleeves and join me. Before the conclusion consigns itself to the inevitable, let's choose to reimagine it — with compassion, with kindness, with the courage to show up for one another. One honest conversation at a time. One unconditional connection at a time. One moment of genuine recognition at a time. The ending isn't written. But the window to change it won't stay open forever. DRC NewsWeekly Wrap-up Our first day back from break was pretty chill. We had an Economics class, multiple ongoing, intense conversations about a particular anime, and several hands-on projects, including sewing a stuffy and building a plaster of Paris embankment for the train set in the cellar. Tuesday: A teen showed up with a pristine box set of the manga books that the anime they were discussing on Monday is based on. One teen dove in and read two in quick succession, and others joined in and began reading too. And the conversation continued through the day. Three kiddos painted the embankment they made from plaster of paris for the train set. Thursday: Most of the crew went skating at the Canton Pavilion. Then some went sledding at the SUNY Canton hill after lunch. E found a very large stick on the walk there and pulled it out of the snow, declaring it the walking staff that he has been looking for. When they got back, he insisted that we should get the perfect photo of him holding the stick. The rest of the day was filled with various craft creations, computer time, and building with Magna-Tiles. A chill Friday at DRC included a kitchen sink science experiment that explored color. We made dots on a coffee filter with water-soluble markers and placed the bottom edge in water. And then watched the water wick through the colored dots. Some separated into the colors that were mixed to make that particular color, and others stayed the same. We should have used taller beakers because, in some cases, the separated colors traveled up past the stick holding the coffee filter. But otherwise, it worked well.  Fundraiser Summer Program Survey  The beginning of the storm on Friday evening in the deep woods. Author’s Note: A short one this week — because sometimes simplicity is the clearest path to being heard. On Thursday, two young women showed us exactly what it means to be a genuine good sport — bringing joy, authenticity, kindness, and warm generosity into the fiercely competitive world of figure skating for all of us to witness. It shouldn't feel remarkable. Yet somehow, it does. How we win and lose — how we carry ourselves when outcomes disappoint us — reveals everything about who we are. There is nothing quite as uncomfortable to witness as a sore loser, unless it's a sore winner. In a culture that glorifies cutthroat competition even in everyday life, treats winning as the only currency, and crowns ruthlessness as strength, simple decency has become a quiet act of rebellion. It doesn't have to be this way. What if kindness, generosity, and the courage to be wholly yourself weren't the exception — but the expectation? Thank you, Alysa and Amber, for leading the way. DRC News
The Pop-ups Peeps met at the Massena Library on Thursday and had an insightful discussion about the US Constitution. They will meet at the Massena Library again on the 26th.  Exciting News: I am facilitating a SOAR class this spring semester! If you are a senior and have wondered what Deep Root Center is all about, or want to learn more about the self-directed learning philosophy, check it out.  Fundraiser  DRC Swag
 Stirring the “ice cream" This past week had me silently screaming every profanity I know into the void—and inventing a few more. Not because of my DRC students, who’ve been doing great. But because I’m watching this administration run a protection racket with a presidential seal—in real time. Since last January, I’ve been thinking we are living a true-life version of Weekend at Bernie’s—people behind the scenes with actual power exploiting his narcissism, feeding him his lines (lies) and stroking his ego, trotting him out and propping him up while they run the grift, the cheating, the bullying, the exploitation, all of the diabolical actions. These are just three of those things that set me off this week: First, the SAVE Act—a pay-to-play scheme disguised as voting integrity that blocks women who changed their names from voting unless they have a passport, which this administration conveniently made harder to get by gutting passport office staff. Just another way to rig the vote after their gerrymandering scheme collapsed. The Republican Party has made it clear: they are very aware that the only way they can win is to cheat. As I write this, the SAVE Act has passed the House and sits in the Senate, where it will hopefully die. Second, the continued brutality unleashed on Minnesotans even after the administration announced ICE and Border Patrol operations were supposedly winding down. The real way to end this terror is through an appropriations bill that defunds ICE. I’m hopeful our representatives will stand firm and do it—because this isn’t just Minnesota, Chicago, LA, or Portland. ICE patrols are everywhere, intimidating and terrorizing regular people, even here in Northern New York, where local sheriffs are working with them. This isn’t, as they claim, a crackdown on illegal immigration, keeping us safer. They’re actively targeting and threatening anyone who disagrees with this administration’s bigoted, misogynist, ableist, xenophobic, homophobic, transphobic, white supremacist, oligarchic, fascist ideology. Finally, the Epstein files—the cover-ups, the lies, the lack of accountability, and the utter frustration that these horrors against children were possible in the first place, and that this still isn’t the thing taking this administration out. How is it conceivable that the monsters who hurt those children remain in power, still raking in money, and not behind bars at the very least? I’m constantly reminded that our kids are watching. Tuesday afternoon, two teens asked if I knew about Epstein—meaning the files, the revelations. Even without all the details, they know some people did some terrible sh*t and faced no consequences. I wonder if they may even, in some dark corner of their understanding, admire that kind of untouchability. What struck me wasn’t the question itself, but their assumption that I might be too sheltered, clueless, or just too old to know. I was caught off guard. I only managed “Yes, I know about him” before the moment passed. Looking back, I realize I probably missed a crucial opportunity to help them understand the inherent responsibility of leadership, the importance of accountability, what an effective, dependable, and trustworthy leader actually looks like, and why we can’t let exhaustion, and some people’s willingness to shrug and look the other way, stop us from demanding all those things from those in power. A lesson I’ll carry forward, even if I can’t reclaim that particular moment. DRC NewsWeekly Wrap-up We had a weird week before midwinter break. We had several kids out sick most of the week. On Tuesday, we closed early because of impending snow. On Thursday, a few spent the day on my land, playing in the snow, hanging out, eating chili, and entertaining my cats. And on Friday, we had most kids back and made “ice cream” for Valentine's Day in Kitchen Sink Science. The idea was to use packed snow with salt instead of ice to surround the bowl filled with the ice cream mixture. We did one outside, one inside, and the bag method, where you put a Ziploc filled with the ingredients inside another bag of snow and salt. The inside mixture came closest to ice cream, but that may have been due to CM's dedicated, vigorous whisking. At the end of the day, we poured our efforts into cups and called it a milkshake. Thanks to the SLU CBL students who helped kiddos look at snow, dish soap bubbles, and hot sauce with the microscopes. In case you were wondering: yes, there were very much alive, and wiggling, microscopic critters in all that snow you ate as a child! As mentioned, the DRC Crew is on midwinter break this coming week. We will be back to our adventures on Monday, 2/23.  Fundraising Raffle Purchase your chances to win $100 worth of NYS Lotto Tickets from any DRC family or online here. Drawing is on March 17th.  Thank you!  Thank you to Stewart’s Shops for the $350 grant towards essential needs. We are grateful for their continued support over the years.
 On the way to the SUNY CAnton Sledding Hill. When I think about authenticity, I consider how comfortable someone feels showing up as themselves. It's rarely straightforward—neurospicy people often don't feel safe letting their weird flag fly in unfamiliar places. Yet even when we're masking, fragments of our true selves slip through. Our core ethics, principles, and beliefs reveal themselves despite the mask. This applies to neurotypical people, too. Based on behavior—not what people say but what they do—it's fairly easy to determine someone's morals. Though maybe that's just my particular flavor of neurospicy giving me a knack for seeing through facades. I base my impression of how well a student is fitting into DRC on a few things, but the main one is their willingness to be themselves and stick to their moral compass. Sometimes it takes a while. Even though our environment is inherently designed as a safe space, we're working with real people who have real emotions, real history, and varied neurologies. Being genuine matters because it makes connection easier—it inspires trust and paves the way for meaningful relationships. People can detect a fake from a mile away. Most of us relate to those who more closely resemble our own messy, chaotic, real lives. Successful content creators and entertainers understand this instinctively. Bad Bunny—the Puerto Rican artist who is headlining the Super Bowl Halftime Show and won multiple Grammys—exemplifies this principle. Despite industry pressure to record in English for broader appeal, he sings every song in Spanish and celebrates his Puerto Rican heritage unapologetically. He was told it would ruin his career. Instead, his commitment to his roots, culture, and mental health made him a global phenomenon. The pattern holds true whether you're building a community, creating content, entertaining, or simply trying to connect with another human being. Authenticity isn't just morally right—it's practically effective. When we show up as ourselves, we give others permission to do the same. And that's where real connection begins. DRC NewsWeekly Wrap-up This week flew by—filled with plenty of activities and projects, such as a kitchen sink science activity that included making insulated containers to see how long they would keep snow from melting, and which material worked best. Each cup got 2oz of snow. And we have a control set out at room temp. One of our Chromebooks had the black screen of death, and KP began the process of fixing it with the help of YouTube videos. He figured out that the OS was corrupt, uploaded a new one, and thought he had it, but then found an additional issue with the battery. We purchased a new one, and he installed it. We discovered that the scruffy old fake leather chair in the seedlings room, which had been shedding fake leather pieces for years, had beautiful upholstery underneath. J helped take off that ratty outer layer to reveal the new aesthetic. On Friday, we welcomed our three SLU Community-Based Learning Volunteers for the Spring Semester. In addition to going outside, they also had fun playing UNO with the Crew. Oh, and on Monday, we celebrated the triplets’ 16th birthday!  The Crew even got in some quality outside time. Besides sledding earlier in the week at the SUNY C Hill, K & E decided to try out the cross-country skis. On Friday, K took them out again, with E (who had not skied in a couple of years), and two of our SLU CBL volunteers agreed to join them. After a bit of struggle to get the skis on, they enjoyed their very first ski adventure.  Fundraiser It is time for our annual Lotto Ticket Raffle. You can purchase tickets from any of our families or online by clicking the button below. Thank you for supporting DRC!!!  Author’s Note: This is not the fun piece I had intended to write this week. Sometimes, real life has a way of changing plans and creating opportunities. This is one of those times.  Having fun with a coin toss physics lesson in Kitchen Sink Science class When someone retreats to "I'm just joking" or "it's just a joke" after being called out, they're not offering the defense they think they are. These phrases are a transparent cover for cruelty—an attempt to repackage unacceptable behavior as harmless banter while posturing as tough for an audience. The disguise fools no one, and no one is laughing. We recognize it for what it is: another tool in the bully's arsenal. Authentic comedy can be a powerful device to discuss controversial issues—but it should never turn vulnerable people into punchlines or use language that demeans them. Period. The questions I'm left struggling with: How do we teach empathy to those who reach for this excuse again and again? How do we break the cycle of peer pressure that reinforces it? How do we get them actually to care? What drives the desire to hurt others in the first place? Those of us who can't imagine intentionally harming someone struggle to understand those who can. I know I'm not alone in lying awake, replaying my day, wondering if I inadvertently hurt someone. This is probably why I can't easily answer my own questions without considerable thought and research. The other variable complicating these questions is the Deep Root Center's Self-Directed Learning philosophy, grounded in trust and non-coercion. When a student betrays that trust, I feel it deeply—while knowing I can't force atonement. Coercion doesn't create genuine remorse or lasting change. It breeds resentment. What I can do: discuss the impact of their actions, acknowledge my own disappointment and anger—because I'm human—ask them to take responsibility rather than make excuses, involve their parents, and offer opportunities for meaningful growth through restorative practices. Ultimately, the decision is theirs. They know that if they can't uphold our one rule of respect in good faith to rebuild trust, DRC isn't the right place for them, and they will have to leave. I don't have answers yet. But after all these years, I know that changing hearts and minds is slow, uncertain work, especially when someone has built their social currency on making others feel small. What I can offer is consistency: clear boundaries, honest conversations, and genuine opportunities for repair. Some students will rise to meet that challenge. Others won't—at least not yet. All I can do is create the conditions where growth is possible and trust that the work matters, even when I don't see immediate results and feel the weight of discouragement. That's when I need to catch myself and remember to celebrate even the tiniest step forward, along with all of the good I witness every day. DRC NewsWeekly Wrap-up The DRC Canton Crew had another short week with a snow day on Monday. We were also missing Chris, who was out sick. For the most part, we had a positive vibe running through the Center—kids fully engaged and doing their thing, but as you can probably surmise from the essay this week, we had a few tough moments to work through. I also didn’t catch much of the action in photos. DRC Pop-ups The Pop-ups Peeps met at Nicandri Nature Center this Thursday and had a great time playing in the snow. They will meet at Nicandri again this coming Thursday, February 5th.  The Art Room - a center for conversations and fun experiments on Friday afternoon. Newton's Third Law states that for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. This might seem like pure physics, but as I was mulling over ideas for this week's post, I realized the principle extends powerfully into human dynamics. I began thinking about my home—the North Country of New York State—and the friction between generations-old residents and newcomers who arrive as students or professors at one of our four universities. It's a dynamic I've struggled to explain to people from outside the region. The best way to describe the mindset of native North Country folks is to reflect on the geography itself. As with most isolated places, the North Country has traditionally been cut off and left behind. In the early days, the wilderness of the Adirondack Mountains to the south acted as a barrier not only to goods but also to new ideas, innovations, trends, and fads. Many of the original settlers came from Canada, Vermont, and Massachusetts—including my own ancestors. These were stoically, resilient people, already accustomed to hardscrabble living (which probably explains why so many roads in this area bear that name), seeking the farmland and natural resources found in abundance here. As transportation options were invented and roads modernized, more people found their way here, and it became easier to leave. Passenger trains were an alternative, with stations in each small village, until the 50s or 60s, when these routes were discontinued as the interstate system was built. Today, a personal vehicle is essential to go anywhere. The closest airports have limited destinations and are heavily subsidized by the federal government. Most residents must travel at least two to three hours to reach a larger airport. All to say—though we are less isolated now, both geographically and through digital connection, that independent, survivalist, stubborn mindset endures. This is where Newton's Third Law comes into play. Direct resistance to new ideas, innovation, and progress—the action—brings inevitable consequences: the reaction. This resistance is so deeply embedded in our collective psyche that we continually make choices that work against our own best interests, including our voting patterns. The indirect impact of those decisions is devastating. This past week, Claxton-Hepburn Hospital announced the closure of all its clinics across the North Country. One hundred twenty people lost their jobs, and our already strained healthcare system took another blow—pushing us closer to becoming a medical care desert. With health insurance costs soaring, people will delay or avoid care altogether. The result will be preventable deaths. Other factors contributed to this crisis, but the root cause traces directly to the bill Congress passed this summer. This isn’t politics as usual. It’s cruelty dressed up as policy, sold to the public through lies and propaganda, while real people lose access to the care that keeps them alive. This is not an attempt to blame the victims—I place the full weight of responsibility for every tragedy on this regime and its propaganda machine. As an anthropologist, I'm trained to observe human behavior and identify patterns. Our resistance to change runs so deep in our culture that breaking free requires more than information or argument—it demands understanding the historical forces that forged it. That's my job—as a multigenerational member of this community, a writer, and a mentor at Deep Root Center: to illuminate the opportunities that emerge when we choose curiosity over assumption, when we ask questions instead of accepting inherited answers, and when we make decisions based on concern, empathy, and current realities rather than clinging to strategies that once worked but no longer serve us. Given access to information and permission to explore genuine possibilities, our young people can break cycles of poverty and isolation that have persisted for generations—while preserving what defines us: the resilience, independence, and deep connection to this beautiful place we call home. DRC NewsWeekly Wrap-up With MLK Day on Monday, it was another short week. We managed to pack those three days with plenty of activities, projects, and good vibes. Unfortunately, we forgot to document most everything on Tuesday and Thursday, but tried to make up for it on Friday. We said goodbye to Lilly, our DRC apprentice. We are grateful for everything she brought to our crew- her positivity, welcoming presence, love for books and music, and most especially her joyful laughter. We will all miss her, but we send her off with our thanks and very best wishes for a bright future. Besides the usual projects and activities, our designated cooks made chocolate cake with vanilla frosting for Lilly and chicken quesadillas for lunch. Maria's mom even stopped in unexpectedly to get help with an iPad issue she was having. Thanks, TS, for assisting.  Goodbye, Lilly  After another brutal news week, I'm done tiptoeing around the elephant in the room. Last year, in the days following the inauguration, I noted in my weekly posts that what we were witnessing transcended politics. On January 25, 2025, I wrote: "Understand, though appearances suggest otherwise—this is not politics. It is simply a means to an end, designed to divide the population and advance a vicious agenda." As we approach the one-year mark of this nightmarish hellscape, I'm reminded daily that bullies only know one language. When leadership is defined by abuse, criminality, and thuggery, it inevitably attracts every other bad actor eager to join the cause. We all know Project 2025 isn't an actual governing plan—it's a retaliatory hit list. Its architects are con artists and thugs who've weaponized the system with one purpose: punish dissenters, reward loyalists. Which brings me to my original point: how to recognize a bully.
These patterns hold true whether we're talking about a schoolyard bully or those currently running the country. The scale changes. The tactics don't. Families have flooded my inbox exploring homeschooling—primarily because bullying has intensified in local schools. This surge isn't coincidental. When those at the highest levels model bullying behavior, it cascades downward into schools, communities, and daily interactions. Standing up to bullies doesn't mean matching their violence or descending to their level. The most powerful response is often holding firm to your convictions while actively protecting the vulnerable. This is how we transform tragedy: by embodying the kindness, compassion, and care that leadership refuses to demonstrate. Every deliberate act of decency becomes resistance—and a source of hope. This is not the time for passivity, despair, or retreat into victimhood. The worst outcomes aren't inevitable—they only become so when good people surrender to silence and hopelessness. We prevent them by standing up—in whatever way fits who you are—and declaring: "Not on my watch.” DRC NewsWeekly Wrap-up The Crew had a short week with a snow day on Thursday. Among many other things, we had plenty of kitchen adventures and froze bubbles in Kitchen Sink Science.  Thank you! Shouts of thanks to the Northern New York Community Foundation for supporting Deep Root Center's Explore the NoCo Field Trip Project with a $1000 grant specifically for admissions to various venues & guest speakers. We will be going on a field trip every two weeks - a total of 18 over the next year. We have a list going, but if you have any ideas for where we should go, drop them in the comments. Thanks!  Author's Note: This week brought more heavy national news. I often struggle with concern and despair for our country and its most vulnerable populations, while balancing that weight against the good happening directly around me. Every day I'm surrounded by happy kids doing their thing. Four new members joined us this week, with one or two more likely next week. I've also been working with several new families who want to homeschool independently. Families are actively seeking alternatives to public school, and Deep Root Center is on their radar. That keeps me incredibly busy and feeling immensely fulfilled.  A walk back from the SUNY C sledding hill. Trust forms the foundation of self-directed learning. During initial meetings with new families, I make one thing clear from the start: I trust every child who walks through DRC's doors. This trust operates on multiple levels. I'm confident that each child intuitively understands what they need to grow and learn, and that they'll naturally pursue those things—including learning to trust themselves rather than what society tells them. I also trust they'll honor our community agreement, which opens with a simple phrase: Respect yourself, each other, and this space. Do they sometimes need reminders? Of course. But within a short time, it becomes clear whether a child is invested enough in membership to uphold that agreement. Sometimes this requires a conversation or two. Usually, it leads to self-awareness, taking responsibility, and an apology, if warranted. When I fully embrace trust—getting out of the way and allowing each child's curiosity to lead—things flow beautifully. Kids explore and discover, everyone engages deeply, and the Center hums with energy. That hum isn't always quiet or decorous. Loud and boisterous? Absolutely. I am often reminded that trust runs both ways. We understand, and take seriously, that every family is placing their child in our care. This often comes with hesitation and skepticism because our philosophy flies in the face of convention. But within the first day—sometimes within an hour-long visit—that uncertainty dissolves when they see how happy and engaged their child is. It's hard to argue with radiating excitement and joy. We're building a space where everyone feels comfortable enough to be themselves. At the end of the day, isn't that what we all want—to be trusted, cared for, and supported as we find our way to our authentic selves? DRC NewsAs mentioned above, this first week back from Holiday Break was a busy one. Welcome to all of our new kiddos and their families! To add another layer to our usual chaos, our T-Mobile internet went out for the last half of the week. Apparently, a router is considered a dinosaur when it is four years old. We received the new one on Friday afternoon; however, I fear getting it set up is going to include another lengthy phone call with T-Mobile, because it was not cooperating after the first few tries. I submitted to frustration and exhaustion but will go back to it Monday morning with a fresh brain and new perspective.  The DRC Pop-ups Peeps had a great time at the Massena Library this past Thursday. Janine reported a lot of great far-ranging conversations, fun, laughter inducing games, and shared thoughts about future plans, including college. They will meet at Nicandri next week. We are hoping to expand the number of kiddos who participate in the Pop-ups. All homeschool families are welcome. Learn more: here.  As we enter 2026, ambitious resolutions abound—healthy eating, exercise, reading goals, more travel. But here's the problem: when we measure our worth against societal norms or others' achievements, we chase a version of success that was never ours to begin with—and often can't be reached to our satisfaction. We're left feeling like failures, believing we're not good enough. This sense of defeat obscures a fundamental truth: each of us is inherently different. Our neurology, personality, upbringing, health, wants, needs, and environment are entirely our own—which means we each have distinct gifts and talents to offer the world. How I approach something may be completely different from how someone else tackles the same activity, project, or problem—and both strategies are absolutely valid. Take my recent foray into sourdough bread. Multiple social media groups share recipes and protocols. I found basic instructions for a starter and made my first loaf within a week. But then, over those first two weeks, I started obsessing over perfect feeding ratios and hydration levels—chasing what others deemed the "perfect loaf." I never stopped to consider that lots of open holes in the crumb isn't even something I appreciate in my bread. A few days ago, I realized I don't need to pursue someone else's ideal. I can make a delicious loaf according to my own criteria: solid, multi-layered flavor, a good rise, and a squishy, loosely packed crumb with just a few small holes.  My goal is to keep the process fun by experimenting with both the starter and the recipe, not following arbitrary hard-and-fast rules. The byproduct is delicious—or at least acceptably edible—loaves of bread. After all, winging it in the kitchen is my signature move. Why should sourdough get special treatment? My DRC Cooking Crew will tell you we rarely follow recipes to the letter. Understanding the basics, then experimenting and adapting—that's the key to intuitive cooking. It's a metaphor for life. Lofty aspirations matter—but only when they're truly yours and align with your needs and lifestyle. By all means, dream big, commit to growth, and dive into your latest hyper-fixation. Just remember to play, relax, make the most of the messes that will be made and mistakes that will happen, and enjoy the journey without comparing it to anyone else's. Because at the end of the day, the only version of success that truly satisfies is the one you define for yourself. Your journey is yours alone—and that's exactly what makes it valuable. DRC News
Is your child struggling with the thought of going back to school after this long holiday break? January doesn’t have to mean returning to a place that makes your child deeply unhappy. Deep Root Center is a viable alternative that supports each young person’s needs, interests, and goals. We are here to listen. Get in touch today to schedule a visit.  As 2025 draws to a close—a year that somehow stretched endlessly yet vanished in an instant—I find myself examining how we all were challenged to confront apathy, cruelty, and injustice head-on while maintaining our authenticity, empathy, and respect for others. Through it all, these ten foundational truths have grounded me and enabled me to move forward into 2026 with newfound knowledge about myself and the world.
Happy 2026 The DRC Crew will be back on January 5th, just in time to celebrate our 12th Birthday! Help Us Keep Our PromiseThank you to everyone who has contributed to the Deep Root Center 2025 funding appeal. To those who haven’t yet, but want to help us keep our promise, you still have time. Any contribution that arrives before midnight on Dec. 31 is eligible for a 2025 tax write-off.   From the DRC family to yours, may your Holiday Season be filled with light, kindness, and peace.
Author’s Note: Ten years after writing this post— when DRC was in its infancy—I'm struck by how these themes remain not only relevant but perhaps even more urgent in our daily lives. This week brought some challenges, and revisiting these words proved to be exactly the reminder I needed. With a bit of revision and polish, the message remains true. Building Up vs. Tearing Down December 21, 2015 I don't play computer games—not because I think they lack value, but because I'm extremely sensitive to visual and auditory stimuli. And, to be honest, they frustrate the hell out of me. My lack of coordination and inability to follow instructions are stories for another day. That said, Minecraft has captured the imagination of an entire generation, particularly school-age children. From my exceedingly limited experience (all five minutes of it), the game seems to center on one essential choice: building up or tearing down a world. This binary—build or destroy—offers a useful lens for understanding several heartbreaking stories I've heard recently. In each case, a child was emotionally harmed (and in one instance, physically) because unhappy adults responded to the child's behavior by tearing them down rather than building them up. Here's what I know to be true: The only way to help someone make positive changes is to build them up—to cheer them on, encourage them, and offer guidance, support, and choices. Tearing someone down and belittling them doesn't inspire change. It only increases their pain and, like in Minecraft, destroys their world. I recently encountered a story from South Africa that illustrates this beautifully. When a village member misbehaves, the elders bring them to the center of the village. The community surrounds them—not with condemnation, but with words of praise, celebrating everything beautiful about that person. Their belief? That love and encouragement inspire positive choices, for both the individual and the community. This practice reflects the African philosophy of Ubuntu. In their world, punishment doesn't exist because they understand its detrimental and irrevocable consequences. It's one more example of how Western civilization isn't nearly as "civilized" as many indigenous cultures around the world. I work with children who've experienced punishment, belittlement, judgment, and fear tactics—children penalized simply for being themselves. These negative interactions accumulate in their impressionable minds into one crushing conclusion: I am broken. There is something fundamentally wrong with me. People often ask what my role is at Deep Root Center if I'm not functioning as a traditional teacher. My answer is unsophisticated but essential: I build kids up. I appreciate them. I love them. I celebrate their accomplishments. I listen to their stories and ideas. I offer opportunities for meaningful work based on their interests and aspirations. I support them in becoming their best, truest selves—while maintaining the boundaries that keep them safe and accountable. It’s a constant balancing act between unconditional affirmation and clear accountability, grounded in reality. There are challenging days that make me question everything, and then moments of grace arrive—unbidden and perfect—reminding me that transformation happens slowly, quietly, and always on its own timeline. Together, we dismantle the walls of misconception and untruth, building in their place an internal foundation of self-love and respect—one that honors their authentic selves while extending empathy and understanding to others. My goal is both simple and subtle: to help students see themselves as beautiful human beings with abundant gifts to offer the world, and to help them recognize and celebrate these same gifts in each other. DRC NewsThese weeks between Thanksgiving and the December Holiday Break always feel a bit weird, almost disconnected from reality. Daylight has diminished, winter has effectively begun, and for some of us, a different kind of tiredness brings an overwhelming desire to hibernate for a few weeks. Additionally, some kids bring over-the-top energy that doesn’t always feel useful or welcome. This week was extra disorienting because of the snow day on Thursday. You will also notice a decided lack of photos for the week—oops. The exciting news is that we added three new members on Monday, and they seem to be fitting in nicely. The crew has also started creating their D&D characters. We got the official playbook from the library, and Lilly is facilitating this beginning process. We are looking for a DM to run our game when we get back in January. If you would like to help, please let me know.  Gifts Sometimes the perfect gift isn’t wrapped in paper or bows, doesn’t cost the earth, and won't take up much physical space, but can have an enormous impact. Contributing to Deep Root Center in honor of an important person in your life has far-reaching consequences for you, the receiver, and the children that Deep Root Center supports. Quite simply, your gift helps us keep our promise of offering our pay-what-you-can policy to the North Country. We are changing lives, and you can help. Thank you!  Perfection is my enduring aspiration. Unfortunately, my neurospiciness has other priorities—creativity, spontaneity, impulsiveness, flexibility, and the persistent belief that nothing is ever truly finished. The result? I spend hours checking, rechecking, and then checking a dozen more times for obvious errors, misspellings, grammar mishaps, and any slip-ups that might make me look less competent than I am. As I mentioned earlier this fall, one of my biggest fears is appearing foolish or incompetent. Case in point: I revised our funding appeal compulsively. I had multiple people review it. I checked the proof before sending it to the printer. And still, the moment I opened the package, there it was—an error staring back at me. I'd accidentally added a white version of the DRC logo in Canva, which disappeared against the white background in the digital proof but showed up plain as day in print. Despite all my efforts, the mistake slipped through. It's just one more in a daily catalog of "oops" moments that persist no matter how hard I try. Here's the paradox: I obsess over these details because I've learned I usually miss them—especially the most obvious and important ones. Yet I can walk into a room and immediately sense that someone was there before me, simply because something was moved an inch to the left. My brain notices everything and nothing, all at once. This quest for perfection extends beyond projects—writing, cooking, crafts—to my appearance, housekeeping, and even my behavior around others. A telling example: before a leg ultrasound this past week to rule out blood clots (negative, thankfully), I felt compelled to shave so the technician wouldn't encounter my very furry wintertime legs. I didn't end up doing it—the cold bathroom and mental exhaustion won that battle—but the urge itself was revealing. Why was I so ready to modify my body for a medical professional who's seen thousands of legs? The absurdity hit me: I'd internalized this need to preemptively manage other people's comfort, real or imagined. I recognize this people-pleasing urge for what it is—61 years strong, rarely useful, rarely healthy. But awareness doesn't stop it. What does? Inconvenience. A cold bathroom. The extra ten minutes. And that's what bothers me most: I spend my days mentoring young people, encouraging them to be unapologetically themselves, to embrace the quirks and differences that make them authentic. Yet I can't seem to extend that same grace to myself. As I've been writing this, something just clicked into place. The anxiety, the fear of appearing incompetent—it all traces back to decades of masking, of trying to pass as "normal," of constantly monitoring myself to hide the ways my brain works differently. This weekly blog continues to be cathartic. It lets me take whatever bubbles up during the week and work through it on the page. In the process, I'm learning to accept the whole package: the weird, quirky, unconventional, still-learning-and-growing human I actually am. And maybe, within all of that messy authenticity, I'll find what I'm really after—not perfection, but grace, acceptance, and gratitude. Not despite the imperfections, but because of them. Thank you for coming along on this adventure. If the lessons I'm stumbling through as I write resonate with your own journey, or give you permission to embrace your own messy authenticity, then that makes the fumbling worthwhile. DRC NewsWeekly Wrap-up The DRC Canton Crew had a full week. Some teens rediscovered the building toys in the Seedlings room and spent a good deal of time building towers. In Kitchen Sink Science, we are experimenting with several variables to determine which slice of bread grows mold the fastest. Lilly brought in a game to play. The kitchen was busy all week, making our lunches every day and baking banana-blueberry muffins on Friday. Digby supervised the action from his favorite spots. And, there is finally enough snow to go sledding! We had four teens visit on Friday. Two of them will be joining us on Monday.  The DRC Pop-Ups Peeps had a blast with a new game on Thursday afternoon at the Massena Public Library. Janine reports that they laughed so hard they were crying.  Good News It is official! Deep Root Center owns this old place - in all its glory! The discharge of mortgage came through on Thursday morning.
 This week the US celebrated Thanksgiving, and as usual it hit me with conflicting emotions and sentiments. As a child, I called this holiday my favorite—but honestly, I was all about the food. My family celebrated with my maternal grandparents, the ones I highlighted in last week's post. My mother was an only child, so it was just my parents, grandparents, and three siblings gathered around the table. As you can imagine from my descriptions of cooking with my beloved Gram, it was always a feast to behold. We'd watch the Macy's Parade, then eat and eat and eat. None of the adults were really football fans, so I wasn't exposed to that part of the tradition. As a child of the '60s, I was taught the story of the first Thanksgiving as a rite of passage, without question. No one—at least that I heard—thought to challenge it. It wasn't until my mid-30s, when I was majoring in Anthropology at SUNY Potsdam, that I fully understood the atrocities inflicted upon Native peoples by my own ancestors—atrocities we have so cleverly disguised through sanitized stories and selective retellings of history. I try to reconcile those facts daily: the people I come from made my presence here possible through hundreds of years of colonization—stealing land and lives from the people who were already here, destroying their culture, traditions, and languages in the process. Which brings me to the following truths that I believe with my whole being:
DRC NewsWeekly Wrap-up The DRC Canton Crew had a short week and most of it was spent in the kitchen prepping for the traditional Thanksgiving feast (with chickens instead of turkey) we served for DRC families. Thank you to everyone who came to hang out and eat with us.  Big News  Gratitude - This simple envelope that was sent Wednesday, 11/26 represents an enormous positive step forward for Deep Root Center. It contains the final payment to discharge the mortgage on 48 Riverside Drive. For those who don't know, because we are a small not-for profit and no bank would even consider working with us seven years ago, the previous owner graciously held the mortgage for us. He even extended the time period two years ago when we couldn't raise the balloon payment. Now, thanks to a tip from our accountant, Nathan Wray, we were able to secure a 5 year loan from AmeriCu in Watertown to make this final payment a year early. It brings our monthly financial obligation down to 60% of what we were paying, and we won't have a balloon payment to worry about. We are deeply grateful for everyone who has helped us along the way to this momentous occasion!  Despite this incredible boost, we still need your support during our fall funding appeal to fulfill our promise to the NoCo community. Our pay-what-you-can policy keeps DRC accessible to families who otherwise couldn't afford to send their children. Last year alone, we provided $124,000 in fee assistance, and we're on track to provide more than $64,000 this year. You can help us keep our promise to the folks of the North Country who rely on our services.
 Kitchen Sink Science - Experimenting with various slime recipes. Author’s Note: I spent several days searching for the right words to describe something specific: how my neurospicy quirks have sharpened with age, particularly this maddening inability to follow directions. Not rebellion—actual paralysis. Multi-step instructions, whether verbal or written, trigger something between confusion and a panicked state of overwhelm that stops me dead in my tracks. Saturday morning, when nothing came to me, I turned to the archives, hoping an old piece might get the creativity flowing. The search didn’t last long. I immediately found “Life Tales,” written seven years ago—three and a half years before I discovered I’m AuDHD. Reading it now, I was struck by how clearly I’d described my personal quirks without understanding their neurological roots: the stubbornness and persistence, the shyness, all of it. But here’s what moves me most: even without that crucial context, I was already honoring those traits as essential parts of who I am. That kind of self-acceptance took years to build. I spend my days with kids working through personal shame and disappointment—whether related to their neurodivergence, body type, or other natural traits. Some actively choose the victim role, making everything negative someone else’s fault. Others hide. Some instigate or lash out aggressively to deflect their own perceived flaws. Our daily conversations circle back to the same core truths: take responsibility for your actions and make choices that reflect who you truly are. Own your quirks and differences as the positive trademarks they are, the things others will genuinely appreciate. Blame, instigation, and aggression, whether toward self or others, only sabotages the authenticity and connections you’re trying to build. I hope you enjoy the below edited version that got the creative juices running this week.No matter what we’re experiencing at the Center, I can always look back and find something that speaks to our current moment. Life Tales November 25, 2018 I was reminded today that each of our lives is made up of the collective stories we create (live) throughout our lifetime. The most amazing part is that these individual tales are completely unique to each of us. I have three siblings, but the family recollections we share about particular events are completely different. In fact, I think I have fewer memories of our childhood than my brothers and sister, and I am the eldest. I can, however, reminisce about the insane amount of time I spent with my grandparents—I recall it being every weekend and weeks on end during the summer—but it probably wasn't that often. It is where I learned to cook and appreciate garden-fresh fruits and vegetables while standing on a stool at my beloved Nama's elbow. And where I could pick raspberries, eating more than ever went in the pail to make the most delicious pies and tarts. It is where I learned that perfection was not always required, when my grandma proclaimed, "It won't show from the road," after I had ripped out and resewn a crooked hem three times in the skirt I was making. I recall the smell of my Poppy's cigar and pipe smoke surrounding his massive recliner, crawling into bed with my Gram after he left for the early shift at Alcoa, donuts oozing with raspberry jelly from the Norwood bakery dunked in milky coffee, and sweet and gooey Sugar Daddy lollipops from Perry's market. Grandma and Poppy's was my happy place. It was where I was accepted and loved for myself without having to share any of that attention with my sibs, where the bedsheets were cool and crisp with the smell of summer sunshine, where I could read all day if I desired, and where ice cream sundaes with hard-crack chocolate syrup were a nightly ritual. I think we forget that our personal identities are often tied directly to the narratives that our loved ones recite about us, as well as the personal lore we tell ourselves. Some of those tales are positive and allow us to see ourselves as proficient and successful, while others have the opposite effect. Those negative anecdotes we tell (and believe) about ourselves are, I suspect, the most damaging of all. I recognize that my childhood stories have played a major role in creating the person I am today. I can say that cooking is an innate skill that I love because I had the opportunity to do so as a very young child. My tendency to do the opposite of everyone else—to walk my own path based on my unique ideas and to stubbornly persist until the very obvious end—was born right there on those five acres of pure and unadulterated childhood paradise. It is also where I recognized that I am extremely shy and that, if given the opportunity, I will hide out with a book instead of interacting with people. To this day, over ten years after her death, I feel my grandmother's loving energy surrounding me. I know without a doubt that she is my guardian angel and that she is so proud of all I have accomplished. I encourage you to take time to examine your personal narrative—are you telling it with a favorable and affirmative spin, or are you weaving your tale with negative vibes? If it is the latter, consider a revision that includes writing yourself in as the hero. Honor your idiosyncrasies, as well as your skills, and talents. Take ownership of all that is you. And celebrate. DRC NewsDRC Canton Weekly Round-up The Canton Crew had a fun week. Our diehard winter lovers tried to go sledding on the SUNY Canton Hill with only a dusting of snow - twice! In Kitchen Sink Science, they each took one slime/cloud dough recipe that came from social media posts to see if it would work. Once the discovered that the recipes were flawed, they spent time experimenting with various ingredients—but in the end found that the only way the recipes would work was to embellish them with traditional slime ingredients—glue and activator. This activity served two purposes - (a) you can't believe everything you see on the internet and (b) sometimes it is OK to play around and get messy to figure something out. We had a great time at the SUNY Canton Field House on our Thursday field trip. They played basketball with regulation hoops, practiced making soccer goals, and walked the track. We had a very chill vibe going on a rainy Friday. K made a cheesecake for our Thanksgiving meal this coming Tuesday when we traditionally welcome all of our families to join us.  Help us Keep Our Promise As we head into the season of gratitude and giving, I am highlighting, once again, the ways you can support our work and the promise we made to the NoCo community over a decade ago: to help any child who requests our services. You can make a one-time or monthly donation, or set up a sponsorship. Or if you're looking for alternatives to material gifts, a meaningful way to honor a friend, family member, or someone special in your life—is to make a donation to DRC in their name. Click the button below and simply provide us with their name and address, and we'll send them a note informing them of your thoughtful gift. You could also help celebrate my 61st birthday this past Tuesday by contributing to a Facebook fundraiser, which is live until the 28th. If you wish, you can also donate through Venmo - @WholeLearners, or send a check directly to Deep Root Center - 48 Riverside Dr., Canton, NY 13617 Spontaneous Friday Silliness in the DRC Kitchen This week, as we head into the season of gratitude and giving, I'm highlighting ways you can support our work and the promise we made to the NoCo community over a decade ago: to help any child who requests our services. Below you'll find this year's Annual Fall Funding Appeal with a note from me spotlighting two of our student members, reflections from our apprentice Lilly, and news as we head into our twelfth year. One meaningful way to honor a friend, family member, or someone special in your life—especially if you're looking for alternatives to material gifts—is to make a donation to DRC in their name. Click the button below and simply provide us with their name and address, and we'll send them a note informing them of your thoughtful gift. You could also help celebrate my 61st birthday coming up this Tuesday by contributing to a Facebook fundraiser. Additionally you can: If you wish, you can also donate through Venmo - @WholeLearners, or send a check directly to Deep Root Center - 48 Riverside Dr., Canton, NY 13617   Author's Note: Every writer needs a break. I know it's time to revisit an old post when my brain—normally buzzing with competing ideas—has none. No concepts queue up for consideration. No spark to begin. This week is one of those times. It is fun to look back through the archives and see that things have changed very little, and that our core principles and philosophy are still shining through all these years later. I hope you'll enjoy this edited and revised piece from exactly ten years ago. 11/9/2015 Trust at DRC reveals itself most clearly in our mentoring relationships. I tell every member from the start: "I will never tell you what to do—or what not to do." My role isn't to direct but to listen, support, and nurture—to help each student discover their own intrinsic motivation. I'm here to help them follow their interests and passions, wherever those may lead. Mentoring happens organically as we move through each day. Every interaction—whether a conversation during a project, a debate over a game, or a spontaneous exchange—feeds our individual and group creativity and passions and becomes a chance for me to show up with mutual respect while engaging in dialogue that matters. I also meet individually with students for more formal conversations as needed. Sometimes they request these meetings; other times, I initiate them when I notice something worth addressing. They might last two minutes or stretch to half an hour, depending on what each student needs. During these meetings, I wear many hats: I'm a sounding board, listening carefully to both words and body language. I brainstorm with them based on my observations. I offer feedback on their progress and behavior and connect them with resources for their projects or classes. Most importantly, I act as their personal cheerleader because my main goal is for them to be successful here. This past week, one of our thirteen-year-olds asked me for a meeting. I think he was feeling like he really needed that one-on-one time to work through some concerns. When we finally sat down that afternoon, he told me he was feeling a bit worried because he had all these fantastic ideas, created amazing plans, started the projects, and then didn't follow through to completion. During this particular session, he was requesting guidance and concrete suggestions—he was feeling frustrated and couldn't figure this out on his own. First, I offered him an analogy: "You're like a hamster who spent seven years in a cage—doing what you were told, running on that wheel, getting nowhere. Now you're frantically racing around because suddenly there are so many possibilities, and you're just so happy to be free." He laughed in recognition. Then we got to work. We reviewed all his projects—and there were many—chose two he wanted to complete, identified where they fit in his academic plan, outlined the necessary steps, and set a realistic timeline for both. This simple course of action alleviated his feelings of frustration and defeat while allowing him to remain fully in charge of his education. The first weeks—or months—after kids are freed from traditional school are always interesting, both for them and the adults in their lives. They suddenly have all this freedom and seem to be waiting for someone to step in and say, "Ha, fooled you!" or "OK, you're feeling lost. I think you should do X, Y, and Z." This phenomenon varies in intensity (often depending on how long they were in the traditional system) and plays out differently with each child. For some, it looks like that delighted hamster racing around, happy to finally be free. Others feel completely overwhelmed, which shows up as ambivalence, boredom, or complacency. A few have no visible reaction at all. These are all legitimate responses to this revolutionary concept of self-directed learning. One of our fifteen-year-olds is a classic example of someone who grasped independent learning from day one. When we meet, my job is simple: listen, suggest tutors or internship sponsors, provide resources, then stand back and cheer her on. She's already completed two internships, studies osteology at SUNY Potsdam's Physical Anthropology Lab with a student intern, and is helping design our potential after-school program—all while participating in group classes at DRC. Another twelve-year-old is still catching his breath after just a few weeks with us. He happily hangs out with other kids, participates in group sessions, and has completed some art projects. He's taking time to adjust. I haven't heard him express specific interests yet, but in time, he'll let me know how I can help. Then we'll watch him take off. These examples show how our everyday interactions offer me opportunities to observe, listen, nurture, play, get messy, and learn—because I'm not concerned about controlling any student's outcome. We're all trusting and encouraging each other to be our best selves. Together, we've created a place where all thoughts, ideas, emotions, and suggestions matter equally. DRC NewsWeekly Wrap-Up This week passed in a blur! On Thursday, our bimonthly field trip kept us closer to home. We ate lunch at the SLU Dana Dining Hall and then visited the Brush Gallery on campus. The exhibit showcased three artists diagnosed with Parkinson's Disease and highlighted how each of them experiences and uses their creativity as a result of their illness. It is well worth a visit.  Field Trip Fun!  The week in pictures.    Author's note: When I use the term "honeymoon phase," I'm referring to the excitement of beginning something new—not romance. Around this time each year, as first-quarter report cards go out, inquiries about Deep Root Center and homeschooling surge. The shine has worn off the school year. The honeymoon phase is over, and the reality of every day hits hard. Many young people get swept up in the cultural ritual of "back to school"—the crisp notebooks, the unmarked sneakers, the carefully chosen new outfits. These aren't just supplies; they're talismans, quiet promises: This year will be different. This year I'll fit in. I'll make real friends. I'll finally understand what everyone's talking about. I'll stay on top of the work. I'll remain calm, focused, and in control. By the end of the first marking period, the gap between hope and reality becomes impossible to ignore. School refusals spike. Self-doubt takes root, twisting into self-blame. Many of these kids may not be utterly miserable yet—but they're heading in that direction My conversations with young people and their families start with one essential truth: This isn't your fault. School feeling impossibly hard doesn't mean something is wrong with you—it means you're being forced into a system built for uniformity. We're all unique individuals, wired differently, with distinct needs and ways of learning, yet school operates as if one size fits all, both academically and socially. Homeschooling and self-directed learning—whether on your own or at Deep Root Center—can flip the script entirely. The very things that make you feel like a misfit in traditional school (your pace, your interests, your way of thinking) become assets instead of liabilities. You take charge of your education, exploring what makes your heart sing. Don't get me wrong—the honeymoon phase ends at DRC too. It just looks and feels different. After two months, kids know each other well enough to get comfortable—sometimes too comfortable. They forget that respect and kindness aren't negotiable; they're our baseline. I call it the sibling effect: when you feel secure with people, it's easy to slip into unkindness, disrespect, and snarkiness disguised as humor. But here's the difference: when the honeymoon ends at DRC, we don't see it as failure. We see it as progress. Getting comfortable enough to test boundaries means you've found a place where you belong. And unlike traditional school, where struggling means you're falling behind, here it means we're doing the real work—learning how to be in community, how to advocate for yourself, how to repair when things go sideways. The missteps aren't signs you don't fit. They're proof you finally do. DRC NewsCommunity Actions: We know times are tough. The cost of groceries and other necessities keeps climbing, SNAP benefits are likely delayed, and folks right here in our neighborhood are feeling it. That’s why DRC is in the process of setting up a Little Free Pantry—stocked and ready for anyone who needs a hand. We need your help stocking it with items that can brave the cold—nonperishable foods and personal care products designed to survive winter temperatures. Feel free to leave donations in the pantry or on the porch. If we happen to be there when you stop by, please knock—we’d love to see you and chat! Just remember to check that items meet the cold-weather guidelines above. We’re so grateful for any support you can offer. We’ll keep you posted as we get it ready, or reach out anytime if you’d like to get more involved. For those who prefer, we’ve created an Amazon Wishlist specifically for the DRC Little Free Pantry. Any item you purchase from the list will be sent to us directly. If you wish to be thanked, publicly, please include your name. Thank you! Note: We will put together personal care and menstruation kits to place in the pantry with some of the items on the Amazon list.  Weekly Wrap-up The DRC Crew enjoyed a chill week, including our Halloween Party on Friday that had the typical DRC vibe.  Pop-Ups On Thursday, the Pop-Ups Peeps had fun at the Nicandri Nature Center, although the weather did not cooperate with them again.   Watching the ship enter the Eisenhower Locks No one would argue that competition forms the structural foundation of capitalist society. Every facet of this economic ideology operates through contest and the inherently created conflict. The bigger, faster, stronger, smarter, skinnier, richer, and loudest claim victory—winning not just games and rewards, but resources, wealth, and social status. Power, privilege, and entitlement inevitably follow. As late-stage capitalism convulses, the ultra-wealthy mount increasingly ruthless campaigns to expand already-massive fortunes. The simple act of being alive has become a competition for connections, where influence and association determine worth. The inevitable result is systemic inequality embedded at every level of society—a reality that remains glaringly obvious yet persistently denied. We perpetuate this by immersing our children in constant competition and social stratification, reinforcing through daily example the illusion that rivalry and othering are natural human impulses. From old-fashioned bullying and schoolyard mockery of anyone too authentic to fit prescribed norms, to calculated ostracism and the competitive hierarchies of our games and organized sports, we teach exclusion as instinct. The poor, people with disabilities, LGBTQ individuals, ethnic minorities, and other marginalized groups are automatically cast as "other," their exclusion framed as inevitable rather than deliberately constructed—a fiction that erodes our moral foundation. Our children bear the ultimate cost. As if to prove my point, two teens walked into the office mid-draft of this piece, discussing martial arts and self-defense. I suggested that in a real threatening situation, using your brain beats using brawn—removing yourself from danger is smarter than fighting. One kid nodded: "Because you could get hurt or worse." I added, "Yes, or worse," dragging my finger across my throat. Without missing a beat, the other teen mimicked the gesture and declared, "I did it better." I broke into laughter and showed them what I was writing. Beyond this silly anecdote, and despite my best intentions, competition surfaces constantly in daily life here. It emerges during 45-minute allotted gaming sessions, in casual exchanges like the one above, while playing outside, on walks to the Grasse River, in the kitchen during meal prep, and even during collaborative art projects that are supposed to foster cooperation. Most of these interactions appear, on the surface, benign—dismissed with "We're just kidding around” or some other banality—but some, with seemingly little difference, escalate into messier conflicts that ripple through the entire community. This is where my frustration mainly lies. Kids have learned that one-upmanship is expected and that being passive or non-confrontational equates to weakness (or invites any of the other slurs that can be casually tossed around). This induces additional conflict and hurt feelings—or worse—and perpetuates the acceptance and normalization of cultural and systemic inequities, injustice, and prejudice. I want these young people to understand that their words and actions matter, even when they feel small. Each of us is responsible for showing up positively and contributing to a better world. I expect empathy and kindness to be our baseline—the foundation of how we treat each other. I encourage them to sincerely support one another, speak up for what's right, actively practice conflict resolution, and engage in intentional daily acts of kindness. This is how we build community together and create positive change that ripples beyond our group. Taking care of one another isn't just idealistic—it's fundamental to our humanity. Cooperation and mutual support have been essential to our survival for hundreds of thousands of years; it is literally built into our DNA, while systems like capitalism are relatively recent inventions in human history. DRC NewsWeekly Wrap-up The Canton Crew had a good week. Thursday’s field trip to the Seaway was a blast. We arrived at the newly renovated Eisenhower Locks Visitor Center as a ship was approaching from upstream and watched the entire fascinating process of it entering the locks and being lowered to the matching water level on the downstream side. Then we traveled a few miles to the Hawkins Point Visitor Center and explored the interpretive displays about electricity. On Friday, in Kitchen Sink Science, we played with siphons, BL made a delicious pialla for lunch, and our walkers explored the SUNY Canton trail in between rain showers.  Field Trip 10/23 - St. Lawrence Seaway   Friday SUNY Canton Trail Adventures Pop-ups The Pop-ups Peeps had a fun Thursday at the Massena Library. They will be at Nicandri next Thursday, Oct. 30. Thank you! We are so very grateful to be a SLU community partner for their Make a Difference Day each year. On Saturday, the SLU Women’s Softball Team came to deep clean inside our home and rake the yard. Thank you!  Author Note: This revised and edited post from 10/13/2015 seems to be a perfect fit for this week’s message, when I only had a scattering of ideas for a new piece and a limited amount of time to write this weekend. Enjoy! We humans have a built-in biological need to name and sort every single thing we encounter, whether they are people, behaviors, emotions, animals, plants, inanimate objects, fungi, storms, or illnesses etc. On one hand, classifying allows us to make that comfortable personal connection and identify kindred spirits; however, in many instances, assigning a label is equal to placing judgment on them. In a very simple way, this automatic categorization makes it easier to discredit them, and in that instant of identifying the differences, we have created “the other”. They are not like me, and they don't think like me; therefore, I can disregard, ignore, ridicule, and dislike them. Governments, religions, businesses, and organizations have long ago learned to capitalize on this basic human biological characteristic by developing propaganda that perpetuates the cycle of identification, distrust, formation of alliances, and hate. How then can we escape the trap so easily set by our own natural inclinations? I believe that becoming aware of this tendency is probably the first step. Every time you find yourself in a difficult or uncomfortable situation, stop for a moment and ask yourself, “Will my actions bring people together or will they divide us even further?” Whenever you have that awareness that the person in front of or beside you is completely different from you, smile and meet their eyes. If you find yourself automatically labeling someone you see walking down the street, stop and recognize your behavior. And when you are ready, go even further:
DRC NewsThank you! Shouts of thanks to Boyden Brook Body Works in Canton for their sponsorship of $500! We are deeply grateful for their continued support of our work. If you know of a business that may be interested in joining them in sponsoring Deep Root Center, please get in touch. Every contribution goes directly towards our promise to accept any child who needs us, despite their family’s financial situation. You can also learn more by clicking the button. Weekly Wrap-up The DRC Crew had a short week and we caught very little of the action in photos.  DRC Pop-ups The DRC Pop-ups Peeps have hopped onto the Pop Dart trend and had a great time playing for most of their time at the Massena Library on Thursday. All homeschool families are invited to join them next Thursday 10/23 back at the Massena Library.   View of the ADKs from the Paul Smith’s VIC Lodge We live in an era saturated with deception. AI-generated content and deliberate misinformation have become standard tools for propagandists and con artists seeking to manipulate public opinion. They work to convince people that self-serving, often illegal agendas are actually righteous causes. The real damage occurs when those fighting back against this manipulation adopt the same tactics—when resistance to fraud becomes indistinguishable from the fraud itself. For example, over the past few weeks, I've noticed many left-leaning social media pages sharing photos tagged as recent protests around the country. (I pay close attention because my two children and their life partners live in two of those cities that have been targeted with threats of military occupation.) Upon investigation, these turned out to be old images from entirely different locations. This is deeply problematic. When people on the right side of history resort to false clickbait and rage-bait tactics, they forfeit their credibility. This behavior is no better than the propagandist's long con. Detecting manipulated content—whether AI-generated, deceptively misidentified photos and videos or fabricated stories—has become increasingly difficult. The key skill is determining whether a source is legitimate. Several important questions can help you evaluate not only whether information is factual, but also whether it's propaganda and whether you should share it. The following is a list I compiled from several sources, as well as from my own experience. Essential Components for Evaluating Information: 1. Currency (Date Published) – When was it originally written, photographed, or filmed? 2. Source – Does it come from a known, reputable news agency or verified social media page? 3. Author/Creator Credentials – Who made this, and what's their expertise or track record? 4. URL/Page Validity – Legitimate sites are often cloned; verify the exact address and page authenticity. 5. Plausibility Check – Does it seem too good (or outrageous) to be true? 6. Bias Assessment – Are you getting the whole story, or just one angle? 7. Cross-Reference – Compare with multiple independent sources. 8. Reverse Image Search – Verify that photos are being used in their correct context. I use TinEye. 9. Intention – Is this designed as clickbait or rage bait to trigger an emotional reaction? 10. Most Importantly, follow the money – Who profits from spreading this information? Additionally, if you need help identifying the veracity of any piece of information, check in with your local librarian. They are the absolute heroes of the moment! We cannot fight deception and propaganda through silence or resignation—they're uncovered through disciplined skepticism and commitment to facts. Every time we share unverified content, even with good intentions, we become unwitting participants in propaganda. The tools for verification exist and are accessible to anyone willing to invest a few extra minutes before clicking the “share” button. Transparency is the greatest weapon against the long con, not counter-propaganda. When we consistently use critical thinking skills to apply the above criteria in investigating content, we build credibility—something propaganda cannot claim. That trustworthiness becomes a badge of legitimacy for individuals, communities, and movements genuinely working toward justice, distinguishing them from those merely exploiting outrage for clicks, donations, or political gain. Truth-telling is not a tactic to be deployed selectively; it's the foundation upon which all legitimate resistance must be built. In an age of deception, your most radical act may simply be refusing to share a lie. *Sources: Institute of Museum and Library Services flyer-www.InformationLiteracy.gov; https://www.scribbr.com/working-with-sources/credible-sources/; https://www.una.edu/writingcenter/docs/Writing-Resources/Source%20Credibility.pdf DRC News Paul Smith’s VIC Field Trip Field Trips The DRC Crew traveled to the Paul Smith’s VIC on Thursday to spend a delightful day in the ADK. We missed peak colors by about a week, but it was still a gorgeous view. Thank you to the Madill family for letting us borrow their 8 passenger van for this trip. It is our intention to go on a field trip every two weeks. In fact, we are writing a grant for this purpose. Our biggest hurdle is reliable transportation. Even if this grant gets funded with travel cost reimbursement, it is not guaranteed that we will have cars and drivers when we need them—for the number of kiddos who want to go. We understand that parents are often busy with jobs and other responsibilities. In the process of writing the grant, I contacted SLC Public Transit because in the past they have chartered busses for a local private school & various community group activities. They no longer do that for insurance purposes. I also contacted Premier bus services. You don’t want to know what it would cost for one trip, never-mind 18 over the course of an academic year. Holy Wow-zers! If you have any viable (wouldn’t cost the earth) ideas to solve this issue, please get in touch. Also, if you have any thoughts on places for us to visit within a 1-1.5 hour radius of Canton, please pass them on. (I have a pretty long list already, but I am sure I am missing a few important places.) Weekly Wrap-up Besides our field trip, the Canton Crew had a fairly chill week at the Center. They took one last walk to immerse themselves (yes, literally) in the Grasse River on Monday before the cold, real fall weather hit. The kitchen was busy with kids making pancakes & sausage, buffalo chicken mac & cheese for lunch, and chocolate chip pumpkin bars, banana bread, and a pumpkin roll.  DRC Pop-ups The Pop-ups Peeps had a great time at the Nicandri Nature Center on Thursday. Your homeschool family can join the fun this coming Thursday Oct. 16th, from 12-3, at the Massena Public Library.   Learning of your hero’s death is always devastating. This Wednesday, the world lost an extraordinary force for good — its bravest, kindest, most dedicated, humblest, inspirational, and tireless champion, when Dr. Jane Goodall, the world-renowned primatologist, ethologist, and activist, passed away at the ripe age of 91. Few would be surprised that she spent her final days in Los Angeles, on a speaking engagement. She famously toured the world 300 days each year. I first became aware of Dr. Goodall’s work when I returned to college to study anthropology, as a 37-year-old adult (non-traditional student). It was a physical anthropology class called Human Origins, where we examined the evolution of modern humans, looking closely at our primate cousins. Dr. Usher showed the National Geographic films of Dr. Goodall developing the chimpanzee research facility at Gombe National Forest in Tanzania. As a shy, introverted mother of two young children, I was quickly and completely enamored with her boldness and single-minded pursuit of her dreams. In 1960, as a young woman, she realized her childhood ambition of living in Africa when she convinced the famed paleoanthropologist Louis Leakey to allow her to travel to Tanzania to study chimpanzees. Additionally, with her time with the chimps running out, she was able to convince National Geographic to film and photograph her work. This, of course, is how the rest of the world and I learned of her breakthrough research and how she met her first husband, a wildlife photographer. Her studies of the chimps of Gombe National Forest utterly changed not only how we view other species, but also what we understand as purely human characteristics. Because of her, we know that other creatures make and use tools, hunt cooperatively, show emotion, and have complex social structures—all things previously thought to define humanness. She also upended the scientific world by naming the animals she studied rather than reducing them to numbers. Her work with the chimpanzees, however, is only half of her remarkable story. She went on to create the Jane Goodall Institute and the Roots and Shoots program for young people worldwide. Activism for animals and the environment became her focus, ultimately consuming most of her time. She traveled extensively, giving speeches around the world, wrote 32 books, and has inspired many with her words and actions. Dr. Jane quickly became a friend to everyone she met. Two of the main reasons I have idolized Dr. Jane since hearing of her work are that she exemplifies self-directed learning and, no small feat, remained steadfast to her values while achieving worldwide acclaim. She didn't wait for things to happen to her; she seized opportunities and explored every possibility while spreading empathy, kindness, and compassion for all creatures. With her playful, adventurous, and generous spirit intact, she captured the hearts, minds, and imaginations of people around the world, including mine. Now, in my view, that is just plain badass—something I have always aspired to be.  DRC NewsWe had a strange week with several kids out for the last two days, which is why we postponed our field trip to the Paul Smith’s VIC to next Thursday. We did manage to celebrate a newly minted 13-year-old on Thursday (Happy Birthday, T) with homemade pizza and cake. Thanks to our newest member, C, for helping make both.  The Pop-ups Peeps had fun at the Massena Library on Thursday with a walk to Stewarts to buy ice cream and a can of whipped cream. Janine reported that they also had an interesting conversation about biases. Plan on meeting them next Thursday, October 9th at the Nicandri Nature Center.  This past week, the Administration's Department of Health made autism misinformation a focal point of their agenda—an agenda that continues to advance with detrimental and corrupt intent. While this news had been anticipated for weeks, witnessing it unfold remains deeply troubling. I'm grateful that numerous experts have responded with factual information to counter these harmful narratives. What follows documents my personal experience and understanding of autism, informed by science and the aforementioned experts. First and foremost: I am AuDHD, and I am not broken, missing pieces, or part of some manufactured crisis or epidemic. To be absolutely clear—I don't "have" AuDHD the way someone might have a cold or temporary ailment. I am AuDHD. It is integral to my neurology and fundamental to who I am. The apparent increase in autism and neurodivergent diagnoses stems primarily from three factors:
There is no one cause of autism. It is neurologically multi-pronged and is usually inherited. Oftentimes, after a child is diagnosed, the parent(s) begin to understand and investigate their own neurospiciness. This leads to the final point: it has been unequivocally proven in multiple studies—childhood vaccines are not implicated in the “development” of autism, and neither is the use of Tylenol by pregnant people. The misinformation and pseudoscience presented as fact are dangerous on multiple levels and are forms of gaslighting. Vaccines represent one of modern medicine's greatest triumphs, preventing millions of deaths annually and eliminating diseases that once devastated communities. The resurgence of measles—a disease nearly eradicated in developed nations—demonstrates the real-world consequences when misinformation undermines public health. This outbreak directly correlates with declining vaccination rates fueled by debunked theories propagated by individuals without legitimate medical credentials. The spread of anti-science sentiment extends beyond childhood immunizations, creating dangerous ripple effects throughout healthcare. This latest assault on pregnant people wrongly discourages them from using safe, essential medications like acetaminophen (Tylenol) to manage fever during illness. Clinical research consistently shows that untreated maternal fever poses significant developmental risks to the fetus, including serious complications. When expectant mothers avoid medically necessary fever reduction based on unfounded fears, both maternal and fetal health suffer. This phenomenon represents more than medical misinformation—it constitutes a broader assault on women's autonomy and the dignity of neurodivergent individuals. Anti-vaccine rhetoric often perpetuates harmful stereotypes about autism while simultaneously undermining women's ability to make informed healthcare decisions. When fear-based messaging replaces evidence-based guidance, vulnerable populations bear the greatest burden. It also creates broad feelings of guilt where there should be none. The solution requires renewed commitment to scientific literacy, clear communication from healthcare providers, and recognition that public health depends on collective action grounded in rigorous research rather than speculation and fear. Additionally, public health decisions should not be made by those who have ulterior motives and will benefit financially from policy.  DRC NewsOur third week flew by!  DRC Pop-Ups Is your homeschool family looking for opportunities to meet other kids, play games, create art, or do projects together? Plan on meeting our DRC Pop-ups mentor Janine at the Massena Library on Thursday, October. 2nd.  |
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Deep Root Center
48 Riverside Drive, Canton, NY 13617
315*323*1435/[email protected]
Deep Root Center
48 Riverside Drive, Canton, NY 13617
315*323*1435/[email protected]