Thank 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. 

Gifts
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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!

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:

• I am grateful for my life and my family and proud to be a multigenerational resident of the rural North Country of New York State. (Thankfully, they chose the northern climes; I likely would not survive a year-round warm/humid environment.)
• I cannot erase or alter the trauma my ancestors inflicted; I can only name that harm and dedicate my life to doing good work and making positive change for my community. I am indebted to all the folks who support me in this work.
• On a broader scale, no person is "illegal." First, the word illegal is an adjective, not a noun—it describes actions, not human beings. The people who come here from other places are seeking a better, safer life than the one they left behind—which is exactly why most of us white folks are here. Our European ancestors did the exact same thing. Second, most have followed protocol but are still being hunted down, kidnapped, and persecuted—illegally imprisoned by this current regime. These individuals have contributed immensely to our society, laboring in agricultural, construction, and retail jobs that weren't being filled by the available workforce—they literally do the work no one else will do. As a group, they have paid more taxes than many large corporations and their billionaire owners combined. I am reminded that diversity is the key to our survival and grateful that these humans bravely persist.
• In that same vein, every person alive is entitled to, at the bare minimum, safe and comfortable housing, enough food and water, healthcare, and a supportive community where they can learn and grow. If that statement seems radical, consider the alternative—which is exactly where we are right now. People have to prove they are worthy of those basics. Pearls are clutched when someone accesses something they don't "deserve." Meanwhile, our society rewards the ultra-wealthy and pits the rest of us against each other. The propaganda machine is working in overdrive.
• All human beings are self-directed learners with interests and aspirations. It is societal and cultural norms that, more often than not, shut that down.
• Compassion and empathy should be the starting point for every interaction, even when anger, frustration, or disappointment are triggered.
• "No" can be said from a place of grace and kindness. Additionally, it is a complete sentence all by itself—period, full stop.
• On a related note, judgment rarely helps. Before commenting on someone's appearance or choices, ask yourself: can they fix this in five minutes? If not—whether it's their outfit, hairstyle, life decision, or anything else they can't immediately change—keep it to yourself. Instead, offer genuine support and encouragement. These small acts of kindness are far more powerful in building meaningful, positive relationships.
• Living life in a state of gratitude is essential, especially when things seem the most dire.

I am deeply grateful for the opportunity to share my thoughts (and occasional rants) with you each week. Thank you for reading and engaging with these posts, and for supporting Deep Root Center's vision of an equitable, self-directed education for everyone.

Spontaneous Friday Silliness in the DRC Kitchen

You could also help celebrate my 61st birthday coming up this Tuesday by contributing to a Facebook fundraiser. ​

Additionally you can:

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.
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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.

Weekly 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. 

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. 

Community 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. 

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. 
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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.  

Weekly 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.  

Pop-ups
​The Pop-ups Peeps had a fun Thursday at the Massena Library. They will be at Nicandri next Thursday, Oct. 30. 

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. 
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​And when you are ready, go even further:

• Be willing to ask questions when you hear something that strikes you as disrespectful or senseless, instead of immediately labeling them as the “other.”
• Be willing to be the person who stands up for all those others who are not able to defend themselves.
  
• Be willing to identify an injustice and challenge the misconduct behind it.
• Be willing to make those personal connections that may feel uncomfortable.
• Be willing to walk in another's shoes.
• Be willing to be the person who sends unconditional love into the world.

It can be that simple. Send kindness. Send humility. Send your humanness. Send your creativity. Send your fierceness. And yes, send your love without expectation, and you will be surprised at what comes back.

Thank 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. 
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All homeschool families are invited to join them next Thursday 10/23 back at the Massena Library. 

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. 

We 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:

1. evolving diagnostic criteria that have broadened the scope of what constitutes autism spectrum disorders,
2. the consolidation of previously distinct conditions under umbrella terms like "autism spectrum disorder,"
3. and the historical under-diagnosis of girls and women. Many females are now receiving diagnoses well into adulthood as clinicians better recognize how autism presents differently across genders, correcting decades of missed or misinterpreted symptoms that didn't fit the traditionally male-centered diagnostic models. 

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. 
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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.
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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. 

Our 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. 

A few weeks ago, I observed that schools have remained remarkably unchanged over the past two centuries. Among the most entrenched practices is the rigid division by grade level—a system where every six-year-old automatically enters first grade to complete "first-grade work," regardless of their individual readiness or abilities, and so on up till the age of 18. This curriculum, designed around skills deemed appropriate for the mythical "average" child of that age, becomes the universal standard for all children born in the same year. Even the one-room schoolhouses of the 19th and early 20th centuries maintained these grade-level divisions, revealing how deeply rooted this approach has become in our educational DNA.

The fundamental flaw in this inherited system lies in treating arbitrary grade-level standards as natural law rather than human constructs. These carefully crafted lists of age-appropriate skills and knowledge are inventions, not discoveries—artificial frameworks that ignore the biological reality of human development. Every child follows their own timeline, yet our schools operate as if all children should reach identical milestones simultaneously. One size does not fit all. 

Perhaps most troubling is how this system systematically excludes children's natural curiosity, passions, and dreams from their education. I recognize the practical constraints—managing thirty students on individualized learning paths presents logistical challenges that seem insurmountable within traditional classroom structures. The system prioritizes administrative convenience over educational effectiveness.

The consequences are predictable and heartbreaking. A percentage of learners race through material, becoming restless and bored, their potential stifled by artificial ceilings. Meanwhile, others struggle desperately to keep pace, often without receiving the support they desperately need. Some carry undiagnosed learning differences; others simply haven't reached the developmental readiness for the concepts being thrust upon them. Both groups suffer under a system that mistakes uniformity for fairness.

As a side note, when supported and gently encouraged—when they have access to books in subjects that they are attracted to, are read to regularly, and most importantly, are not pushed—late-blooming readers often "catch up" by the time they are assessed in high school. Data often shows little appreciable difference between those who struggled early on and those who didn't.

This issue strikes at the heart of my work, even though I serve homeschooled children who have left traditional public school structures and policies. The problem persists because most educational resources—whether digital platforms or printed materials—continue to carry grade-level labels that follow us beyond institutional walls.

These labels create invisible barriers in learning environments. When children encounter "3rd-grade math" or "5th-grade reading," they don't see educational tools matched to their developmental needs. Instead, they perceive social markers that determine their academic identity and peer standing.

The psychological impact is immediate and profound. A twelve-year-old who would thrive with third-grade mathematics will often reject it outright, choosing frustration over perceived embarrassment or losing interest in learning math altogether. Meanwhile, peers working confidently through eighth or ninth-grade concepts may unknowingly cultivate feelings of intellectual superiority. This dynamic transforms learning from a personal journey of growth into a competitive ranking system that prioritizes external validation over genuine understanding.

At Deep Root Center, we regularly work through this phenomenon—reminding student members who have dyscalculia or other difficulties with math,  as well as other learning difficulties that they can make tremendous progress by working at their optimal challenge level and exploring topics that excite them, while utilizing tools and hacks—instead of being limited by the arbitrary social constructs embedded in educational materials.  We want them to understand that the grade-level system, originally designed to organize institutional learning, is of no use to us; therefore, it is one more construct that we can happily leave behind. 

The Canton Crew had another phenomenal week. We ended with a field trip to my land in Pierrepont to play in the woods. We plan on going off campus every other Friday. The Paul Smith’s VIC is next.  

The Pop-ups Peeps met at the Massena Library on Thursday.  They had fun playing board and card games.
This opportunity is open to any homeschool family. They are meeting next week at the Nicandri Nature Center on Thursday. Learn more here.

This week, I found myself conflicted about what to write. Part of me wanted to dissect the damaging effects of hate-filled rhetoric—how it spreads through influential voices and encourages violence, particularly among young men searching for identity and purpose. The subject felt urgent, demanding attention. 

However, I'm intentionally stepping away from that discussion. The discourse around online radicalization, while necessary, feels saturated with voices far more informed than mine. Instead, I want to turn toward something quieter but no less important: the moments of unexpected glimmers I witnessed over the past five days that brought me joy. Sometimes the most radical act is choosing to document light rather than dissect darkness. 

This first week back with our DRC members has been truly inspiring. While our group is smaller than in previous years, this shift has created unexpected opportunities. The intimate size has allowed us to connect more deeply with one another and establish a strong foundation built on kindness and mutual support.

I envision this core group becoming the heart of our community—a welcoming nucleus that will naturally include new members as they join us throughout the year. By taking time now to solidify our bonds and shared values of respect, kindness, and embracing curiosity, we're creating an environment where every future addition will feel immediately embraced and included.

Thus, the smaller beginning numbers feels less like a limitation and more like a gift — a chance to be intentional about the community and culture we're building together.

This is a short list of examples of joyful glimmers I witnessed from this past week that were woven into our daily routines and shared experiences:

• Our first day consisted of creating our community agreement together and then making lists of activities & projects they all want to investigate. Based purely on the conversation about our agreement, it was very apparent that this crew clearly understands the concepts of respect and kindness.
  
• The daily morning check-ins were a delightful mix of information for the day and straight-up goofiness.
  
• Daily walks after lunch were instituted on our second day; the SUNY Canton trail and the Grasse River are favorite places to explore.
  
• On Tuesday, our chefs created a list of menu ideas and on Friday they put the menu together for next week, based on the ingredients we had in the freezer and cabinets.
  
• Lilly, our apprentice, is reading Holes, aloud - a title chosen by the Book Club members.
  
• The Creative Writing group filled a jar with story-starter ideas for the future.
  
• A spontaneous game of HeadBandz popped up while waiting for lunch one day.
  
• One kiddo invited another, who has a keen interest in bugs (and rarely interacts with others due to high anxiety), to explore an ant colony in a rotten tree trunk, they researched what kind they were, all of their needs, and created a habitat for them. They then spent the remainder of the day hanging out and looking up bug videos on YouTube.
  
• Another teen was deeply engaged in his Algebra II lessons on Khan Academy. He informed me on the first day that he has an ambitious schedule set to finish the class by November. He also told me that he wants to complete highschool in three years.
  
• The Kitchen Sink Science crew completed a density experiment with water, liquid soap, rubbing alcohol, and veggie oil (including hypothesizing the results before beginning) and started building a list of future experiments.
  
• Friday’s walk included a tour through downtown to visit the Canton Farmer’s Market to purchase apples and garlic for the Center with some Farmer’s Market tokens gifted to us.
  

It was a week of firsts and making lists, a time to get to know each other, and to share ideas for the coming year. What strikes me most is witnessing young people discover their own agency. They're not just absorbing curriculum; they're actively shaping their educational journey while weaving themselves into the fabric of our community. Each choice they make—which project to pursue, how to contribute to group discussions, when to offer help or ask for it, or actively including someone who seems uncertain about how to engage with others—becomes a revolutionary act of advocacy for self and others.

This sense of ownership matters deeply. When people feel genuinely seen, heard, and valued for who they are—not who they should become—something protective takes root. Meaningful engagement and authentic connection within a respectful community create resilience against the pull of extremism. Belonging here means less searching for belonging elsewhere, in spaces that might exploit vulnerability rather than nurture growth.

The lists we made this week aren’t just organizational tools; they are maps of possibility, drawn by individuals who are learning to trust themselves and the community they are building together. 

If our first week is anything to go by, we are in for a fun year filled with inspiring moments. 

These sessions are open to any homeschool family in the NoCo. If you are looking for social opportunities - to hang out with other kids to play games, get creative with arts & crafts, work on collaborative an projects, and have cool conversations, check it out.  Janine, our Pop-ups mentor, is looking forward to meeting you and your kids.

Over the years, I have written about the hacks that I’ve developed throughout my lifetime to navigate my learning disabilities and neurospicy quirks. In doing so, my main objective is to debunk the myth that using these tools constitutes “cheating.” We live in a culture that glorifies self-reliance — ”pull yourself up by the bootstraps”— yet expects obedience and conformity. These contradictory values are, at best, confusing and, at worst, detrimental to those who require adaptations and support to truly thrive. 
These contradictions create an uncomfortable internal tension when I take advantage of useful hacks. For example, I've started using Claude AI to elevate my writing. I type “improve” and then paste the paragraph I know needs some help. But each time, it comes with a nagging question about whether I'm compromising my individual voice. Still, when I step back, I recognize this as simply another instrument in my creative arsenal. More often than not, I cherry-pick rather than fully adopt its suggestions. This tool accelerates my learning—each use builds new skills and deepens my expertise. 
In truth, everyone deserves access to adaptations and supports to improve accessibility, not just those who carry an official label. The most common excuse I have heard over the years is that if you provide something to one person, everyone will expect it. My question is, “Why is that a problem?” Helping everyone achieve at their highest level is not a bad thing. I have discovered over these eleven years of working with students in a self-directed learning environment that supporting and encouraging someone in their efforts does not lead to the dreaded laziness, but to a willingness to try harder. I have witnessed the powers of intrinsic motivation expand as each individual discovers the joy of thinking for themselves and reaching goals previously unarticulated. When you help one more person succeed, we all profit.

Our society dedicates vast resources to bureaucratic systems—crafting regulations, administering programs, and gatekeeping access to essential services—yet these administrative expenses, including the costs of punishing those determined to be “swindling,” often surpass what it would cost to simply provide universal access to basic needs. We've created expensive machinery to determine who deserves help, when we could achieve better outcomes by eliminating the gatekeeping entirely.
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In an ideal world, universal access would render specialized accommodation plans obsolete. Instead of navigating complex systems to meet basic needs, every person would receive what they need to thrive. This principle extends far beyond education to encompass all fundamental human needs: healthcare, nutrition, housing, and safety.

Tomorrow, Monday, September 8th, is our first day of the 25/26 year. Digby Doo is excited to have his Peeps back.  And we are looking forward to a fun year filled with tons of exploration and growth. 

Thanks to Chris, the new bathroom is finished with new flooring and a shelving unit!

Last week, I explored the inherent comfort found in embracing culturally approved educational choices. The concept of formal schooling has been woven into the American fabric since the colonial period, beginning with the Puritan schools in the early 1600s and the first publicly funded school in Dedham, Massachusetts, in 1644. What's striking is how little the fundamental curriculum and methodology has evolved since the 1800s—a testament to the deep institutional stagnation that shapes our educational landscape.

While I'm painting with broad strokes here, my central point remains: challenging educational norms means confronting the deeply ingrained role and values that schools occupy in our collective history and identity. It means questioning not just how we teach, but what we consider essential knowledge within the curriculum. 

Our ultimate goal is to unravel the powerful grip of compulsory education and illuminate the transformative possibilities that emerge through non-coercive, self-directed learning. This isn't about rejecting education itself—it's about reimagining what authentic learning looks like when freed from institutional and cultural constraints.

Those of us practicing self-directed education philosophy need to step boldly into the spotlight. Whether we're creating vibrant learning communities, like Deep Root Center, or embracing the freedom of unschooling at home, our stories matter. By sharing the journeys of our student members, with complete transparency, we can spark curiosity, deepen understanding, and help individual families envision how this approach might work for their unique circumstances—besides being a last resort for those youth who have tried hard to make school work with dismal and damaging results. 

At Deep Root Center, our fundamental responsibility extends beyond educational philosophy—it's about doing meaningful work with overarching kindness and empathy for every family we encounter. We support and encourage our student members to follow their genuine interests and curiosity while remaining open to new concepts and staying true to themselves. 

This approach provides children with something increasingly rare in our standardized world: the space and time to discover who they are and what they're capable of becoming when learning springs from intrinsic motivation rather than external pressure. When we trust young people to direct their own education, we witness the emergence of confident, creative, and critically thinking individuals who are not afraid of the messiness and mistakes required while navigating an uncertain future with adaptability and authenticity. 

The path forward requires courage from families willing to question conventional wisdom and put faith in children's natural capacity for learning. As we continue to demonstrate the power of self-directed education, we're not just changing individual lives—we're contributing to a broader cultural shift toward approaches to human development and education that mirror society's demands for young people who are confidently capable of open-minded problem-solving and, in the process, cultivating answers to the multitude of issues facing humanity. 

Over the past few weeks, several parents have confided that their children, whether Deep Root Center student members or homeschool consultees, will be returning to a formal school setting this September. At first, these decisions left me scratching my head, especially since many of these young people left school behind because it failed them in a variety of ways. Their needs and interests were overlooked, and some felt adrift—bored, anxious, unsupported, or even bullied. As I read through their messages, a deeper pattern began to emerge, hinting at the reasons behind this return to traditional classrooms. 

As I reflected on all this earlier in the week, I realized that these families, like free-flowing water, may be seeking the path of least resistance. I totally understand this impulse. There's an undeniable appeal to following the cultural norm of school attendance, where the day is structured for you, major decisions are made with little direct input, the rules are established and clear, and conforming within prescribed boundaries is rewarded. 

Despite my initial confusion, I genuinely empathize with these choices. In some cases, the inherent freedom and looseness of the Deep Root Center and self-directed learning in a homeschool setting can feel uncomfortable and unmooring and may not be for everyone. Additionally, many of these children, for various reasons, have felt disconnected throughout their lives, and perhaps they simply want to experience what their peers take for granted—in a formal educational setting. I can also imagine parents longing for the practical simplicity of a school day routine, allowing them to focus on work and the countless responsibilities required to keep their families housed, fed, and secure. 

However, from my admittedly privileged perspective of distance (my kiddos are long ago grown & gone), I also recognize the potential hidden dangers of choosing the path of least resistance. Like water invading spaces meant to stay dry, this seemingly easier route may lead to unwelcome consequences that can gradually compromise the original best of intentions.  

With that being said, I am sending all the families who are making these difficult decisions my heartfelt, warmest wishes. I sincerely hope their children discover the fulfillment, success, and growth they are seeking within the walls of a more structured environment.  

And as always, Deep Root Center’s doors remain wide open, ready to welcome anyone back with kindness and understanding if their journey takes an unexpected turn.   

The Center and Digby Doo are ready for our kiddos to return on Sept. 8th!
We have a few spaces open, if your child is seeking an alternative to school that meets them where they are at, get in touch. 

As summer comes to an end and fall approaches, you may be looking for somewhere to get involved—to share your financial resources, time, or talent. Deep Root Center relies on folks from our community to help us keep our promises to the families of the NoCo. Learn how you can get involved here. 

I believe, as a culture, we do not fully understand what true intelligence entails; most would probably say it is what you know and can regurgitate on a test. However, according to my handy Apple Dictionary, intelligence is defined as "the ability to acquire and apply knowledge and skills."  And Merriam-Webster concurs, also adding  “to deal with new or trying situations - also  : the skilled use of reason and (2) the ability to apply knowledge to manipulate one's environment or to think abstractly as measured by objective criteria (such as tests).” (Interestingly, the second part of the Merriam-Webster definition is what anthropologists have historically used to differentiate humans from other species.) 

We often hear folks referred to as “book smart” or street smart” as if intelligence is static and one-dimensional and you either have it or don’t. We typically discount the brilliant people who are labeled with learning disabilities or those who are kinesthetically, spatially, inter or intra-personally, linguistically, musically, or the hyper-aware of the natural world — kind of smart. 

Additionally, portions of society revere the fake “experts,” who have found a wide-reaching platform for their nonsense, but denigrate the professional scientists, naturalists, and academics who follow the rules of scientific inquiry, by asking questions, acknowledging facts, and seeking out new ways forward. Some (I) would even claim that we are in an era of anti-intellectualism – it seems objectively cool to be dumb or willfully misguided, but still argue that the misinformation (lies) they spout are in fact the truth. 

With that in mind, I believe that in addition to the ability to learn new things and apply them, intelligence ultimately includes the capacity to view novel or previously unfamiliar ideas or theories with an unbiased, receptive, and open mind with the flexibility to change your perception of those things based on that fresh information. And to use that new understanding to think critically and solve problems. 

You may recognize that this all harkens back to the “Doing Better” post I wrote two weeks ago when I highlighted the Maya Angelou quote: “Do the best you can until you know better, then when you know better, do better.” 

This past week, I encountered a person who was deeply mired in some notions that were part of their belief system, which were then supported and perpetuated by their confirmation bias. They fully maintained everything they were saying and were unable to even hear anything beyond their prejudiced comprehension of what I was expressing. Based on those differences, they decided DRC is not the right place for their child. I can only hope that I gave them some information to consider outside of our conversation and that they may now know better, at least to the tiniest degree. 

This conversation was a test of my resolve to speak facts and uphold the DRC promise of inclusivity and utter kindness that we extend to everyone, while remaining courteous and polite. We will not change who we are and how we operate to gain membership. If we can’t uphold our philosophy, most fundamental values, and dedication to provide a non-coercive, equitable, respectful, transparent, and openminded environment that supports all forms of intelligence, independent investigation around personal interests, critical thinking, and problem solving skills, as well as sexual orientation, gender identity & expression, diverse ethnicities, and yes, even religious beliefs, then we are nothing.  

Summer Program Cancelled
Sadly, due to a lack of participants, our Summer Program will not run this year. We will consider providing it next August, only if we hear expressed interest. 

*Author’s Note: Due to spending all day yesterday at our Craft Fair & Family Fun Event, I am once again recycling a post, with a few edits, from several years ago. It is fun to look back and realize that our philosophy and mission have not changed in these past ten years.

Uniquely Personalized
8/31/2015

Self-directed education is the core principle behind Deep Root Center and other organizations in the Liberated Learners Network. I believe those simple words profess to the world that we are in the business of supporting one kid at a time, in the real world, according to their individual interests, needs, and desires. 

But what does that really mean? We have all heard the phrases “individualized” or “student-centered education”. Those pedagogies, in my opinion, try to bring out each student's interests within a formalized and structured curriculum and classroom or school setting. The schools that utilize these philosophies, however, offer some form of coercion (albeit subtle) and are not able to sincerely look at each student as a unique being, because their internal structure is governed by the requirements set forth by the state or the administration of private learning institutions. (You can read more about Self-Directed vs Progressive Education in an article written by Developmental Psychologist, Peter Gray, here.)

A truly self-directed education provides open options and free choice for each learner, by listening and utilizing the information gathered through multiple conversations and mentoring sessions to create a personalized learning plan. These plans often include: independent research, hands-on projects, group classes, online classes, one-on-one tutorials, and even auditing SUNY Canton classes, internships, or apprenticeships in the community. 

The beauty of this process is that the student and the mentor both understand the plan is completely organic and alive; they are both entirely willing to scrap the original, at any time, because life happens, interests change, and new experiences and explorations may expose new learning opportunities. 

Some students thrive in academically demanding situations, while others seek out a relaxed, go-with-the-flow learning experience. In the fluid, flexible, and non-coercive self-directed learning environment, these two contrasting styles and personalities mesh perfectly. 

Everyone understands that they have options and no one is being forced to do anything they do not want to do. The staff is not worried that one student who is engaged in a rigorous lesson will be influenced to leave the class simply because another is sitting at the next table, surrounded by their latest project and rocking out with headphones firmly attached to their ears. 

A self-directed education simply requires an open and welcoming environment, supportive mentors and facilitators, positive relationships, mutual respect, and the individual, intrinsic desire to learn.

By Maria Corse
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​Here’s a secret: My biggest fear is that I may appear dumb, uninformed, ignorant, or, to put it in less kindly terms, like a bumbling idiot. 
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As a high-masking neurodivergent individual, I work overtime to make sure that particular worry never comes to pass. In fact, I spend so much time managing how I am perceived that many would never, in a million years, have guessed that underneath the surface, I am a hot, anxious mess, constantly struggling to maintain the image of being calm, capable, intelligent, and sometimes even witty. 

An enormous part of this is my effort to learn, consciously use, and present correct terminology, ideas, and concepts I didn’t know much about or had an outdated understanding of until relatively recently. For example, my understanding of the issues surrounding the LGBTQIA community has increased exponentially over the past few years, as has my knowledge around disability (especially the invisible types, including the scourge of ablism), neurodivergence, and the difficult topics of extreme poverty, the unhoused, and the more recent horrors that immigrants and asylum seekers face. 

These are all things I had a basic grasp of—until I realized that folx from all walks of life are struggling hard, and I can be a better ally simply by learning more about the challenges they face every single day. 

As the great Maya Angelou famously said, “Do the best you can until you know better, then when you know better, do better.” 

It is a quote I live by. We are all out here doing the best we can. However, when you are wide open to new ideas and ways of being, including using correct and current vernacular, you can learn to be kinder, gentler, less judgmental, more generous, extra grateful for your blessings, and you may even discover hidden gems about the world that were previously concealed from your view that make life a little more meaningful.