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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.
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 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.  |
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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]