No one likes a bully — or so the saying goes. Yet here we are, surrounded by them. When they’re called out, we’re met with intimidation tactics, gaslighting, and the familiar deflections: “I was just joking,” “Can’t you take a joke?” or “Why are you even asking that?” — along with whatever slurs and put-downs follow. 
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I firmly believe we find ourselves in this crisis of moral decay because bullies are now fully emboldened by the grifter-in-chief (and his enablers) — the con artist who plays the tough guy, the “big man” who has lied his way through life. He mistreats anyone who refuses to do his bidding, latches onto whatever trend promises him adulation, power, (safety from consequences), and brazenly defies any authority that dares to rein him in. The message it sends is clear: if he can get away with it, so can anyone else bold (man) enough to try.

So why this post, why today? This past week, I spent an entire night composing an opening paragraph in my head — because I am fed up with the blatant hypocrisy of this cult. (Once again, obsessively trying to solve problems in my sleep. The blessings of a neuro-spicy brain.) Their blindness to anything beyond the falsehoods they’re fed daily, their inability to think critically beyond what serves this cult of personality — it is equal parts baffling and infuriating. Which, in a roundabout way, is exactly why I’m writing this.
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These followers claim to be tough on crime — “Back the Blue” — yet when it’s one of their own facing charges, they close ranks, fight the case, and then demand apologies and reparations. Their crusades against trans and LGBTQ people, immigrants, women’s rights, and basic, proven scientific concepts are unrelenting. And yet, as has been well established, every condemnation from this crowd is, more often than not, an admission.

These are the same people who cheered loudest when DOGE made drastic, life-endangering cuts across the board in the name of eliminating government excess. Yet the staggering amounts of federal funding being funneled into vanity projects, unnecessary conflicts, and a mounting pile of lawsuits — all at the regime’s personal whim — go entirely without condemnation. The hypocrisy isn’t just glaring. It’s indefensible.
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Much has been said about what makes someone susceptible to radicalization — to being drawn into a cult. Isolation is often cited: a lack of genuine community connection leaves people vulnerable, open to any group that offers belonging. I believe that. But I also think these movements attract people who already carry a predilection for bullying, along with the phobias and prejudices that come with it — people who are simply relieved to finally find their people.

And yet, many of them would never apply those labels to themselves. They don’t see themselves as bullies, racists, homophobes, transphobes, misogynists, xenophobes, or science deniers. They simply hold — as they’d put it — a particular point of view. “Why can’t we agree to disagree?”

Because when your beliefs put other human beings at risk, disagreement is no longer a matter of preference. It’s a matter of consequence. 
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When faced with a challenge of this magnitude, my first instinct is always the same: How can I help?

I can’t fix this at a macro level. I have little power over how a bully moves through the world. But I can help one kid at a time feel a little less alone. I can build — and fiercely protect — a community where diversity and trust are the foundation.

And most importantly, I can model the world I want to live in: one where empathy, acceptance, kindness, respect, and critical thinking aren’t radical acts — they’re simply how we show up for each other as the wildly different people we are. 

DRC participated in the Spirit Faire in Norwood yesterday. It was great to chat with folx and listen to my husband, Mike Corse, play some awesome music with his friends Christopher Raymo and Lorna Zvingilas on our 34th(!) Anniversary. 

Volunteer Opportunity
As we look ahead to the 2026–27 academic year, Deep Root Center is expanding our hands-on projects and activities for student members — and we need your help to make it happen.

We're looking for passionate people who are eager to share their skills and enthusiasm with young learners. This is a meaningful opportunity to be part of a vibrant, community-driven space where youth and adults come together to explore, discover, and grow.
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If this sounds like you, we'd love to hear from you! Reach out to [email protected] or complete the volunteer application by clicking the volunteer button.

DRC Swag
Did you know that Deep Root Center has a Printify Shop with original designs, and all proceeds go toward our programs?

Grab either of the newly updated "Jump in and Explore graphics," available in v-neck, crew-neck, and hoodie styles, in both adult and child sizes.

You will also find a variety of other original designs that celebrate Deep Root Center in our storefront.

At the heart of self-directed education lies a commitment to lifelong learning: the practice of following curiosity wherever it leads, exploring unfamiliar ideas, and continually weaving new discoveries into a rich, personal body of knowledge.

Last week, I had the opportunity to take another deep dive into the learner-centered world of alternative education, alongside colleagues and well-known professionals, at the AERO Conference (Alternative Education Resource Organization) in Manchester, NH — and not surprisingly, I came away with fresh insights.

There were definite highlights. Spending time with my Peeps — the folx from the Liberated Learners network — was number one. These are the people who get it; they're intimate with the joys, frustrations, and the whole spectrum of emotions that come with running a non-coercive, self-directed learning center. They fully understand why I pour so much energy into building and growing Deep Root Center, because they do the same at their Centers. There's really no other way to explain it except to say: they're my Peeps.

A close second was once again meeting and listening to one of my heroes, Dr. Peter Gray, developmental psychologist and author of Free to Learn: Why Unleashing the Instinct to Play Will Make Our Children Happier, More Self-Reliant, and Better Students for Life — speaking about his forthcoming book, Restoring Childhood: How to Set Kids Free in the Age of Anxiety, releasing this September. Yes, I have my copy pre-ordered!  And, I look forward to the next time I have the privilege to see Dr. Gray and have him sign it, like my treasured copy of Free to Learn.  I can’t encourage you enough to subscribe to his Substack to receive regular essays that center on his work around the value of play in children’s lives. 

Along with those highlights, the conference featured several keynotes and breakout sessions. Two had the most impact, both because they made me challenge what I thought I knew about myself and about self-directed education.

The first, led by Kim Swaffield, M.Ed., explored the balance between structure and freedom in educational settings. I generally bristle at the word structure, even though my autistic brain craves the safety of routine. I'd always viewed structure as rigid, coercive, inflexible, and uncompromising, something that is the antithesis of the freedom we offer at DRC. What I learned is that structure can also look like loving guidelines and skill-building scaffolding — the kind that offers the essential sense of safety all kids crave. And, to my utter astonishment, I realized those are things we already do at Deep Root Center. 

On the last day, I attended a breakout session by David Brown titled "Rebuilding Coherence: Designing Schools Where Belonging, Agency, and Rigor Align." After introducing himself, he asked us to define those three words as they relate to our personal views, in terms of education.  I think he expected the word rigor to stir up some conflicted thinking in this predominantly self-directed learning crowd — and we didn't disappoint during the discussion portion of the session.

Upon reflection, I realized that the discomfort and challenges I felt during both of these sessions traced back to how I define, or think about, specific words. 

My first instinct was to define rigor negatively. In my mind, it is a buzzword used in coercive educational settings — shorthand for making things harder than they need to be just to satisfy some nebulous standard, and for forcing people to do things they don't want to do.

Once I got past that initial hit of negativity, I pushed myself to think about rigor differently. I eventually landed on a definition where rigor is a way for self-directed learners to take charge of their own educational experience and seek out challenges that help them grow. In other words, I placed the responsibility on the individual, not on outside forces. Others in the room framed it positively too, but located the responsibility a bit differently — placing it on the instructor and the learning environment to create a space where individuals are then motivated to embrace rigor themselves.

The consensus was that embracing rigor can only happen when someone feels a sense of belonging and agency. Those two things don't happen in a vacuum, and they certainly don't happen in a coercive setting — they simply can't be forced. Most people feel they belong and have agency because the environment and the people in it invite them in as they are, and welcome them to simply be themselves. 

Which brings us full circle back to my original argument: it's only when someone feels safe, fully supported, and at ease with their own quirks that they're able to explore those awkward, uncomfortable places — to challenge themselves, ask questions, seek out fresh ideas, and embrace vulnerability (which, spoiler alert, does not come naturally for me and is definitely a topic for another day) — and find new ways to grow. In the words of Neil deGrasse Tyson, another hero of mine, "My view is that if your philosophy is not unsettled daily, then you are blind to all the universe has to offer.”

I left the conference with more questions than I arrived with — which, I've come to understand, is exactly the point. Lifelong learning was never about arriving at fixed answers; it's about staying curious enough to keep digging, even when what you unearth challenges the assumptions you walked in with. My three days at AERO didn't just reaffirm what I already believed about self-directed education — it cracked open new ways of thinking about structure, freedom, rigor, belonging, and agency, and how they all work together rather than against each other. I'm returning to Deep Root Center with a fuller, more nuanced understanding of the work we do, and with renewed gratitude for my Peeps, my heroes, and the colleagues who pushed me to think harder.

​That, in the end, for me, is what a personal body of knowledge is built from: not certainty, but the willingness to keep weaving new threads in, and ultimately to better serve all the young people who walk through our door.  

volunteeAs we look ahead to the 2026–27 academic year, Deep Root Center is expanding our hands-on projects and activities for student members — and we need your help to make it happen.

We're looking for passionate people who are eager to share their skills and enthusiasm with young learners. This is a meaningful opportunity to be part of a vibrant, community-driven space where youth and adults come together to explore, discover, and grow.
​
If this sounds like you, we'd love to hear from you! Reach out to [email protected] or complete the volunteer application by clicking the volunteer button.

I took one photo while at the conference. Not surprisingly, it was of the panel of inspiring teens from North Star: Self-Directed Learning for Teens and Bay State Learning Center, representing the Liberated Learners Network. Thank you to them and to Ken Danford, founder of North Star, for moderating the lively, informative conversation. 

As mentioned above, it was wonderful to reconnect with a good number of folx from the Liberated Learners Network,  whom I have not seen in two years. ​ We always have so much to catch up on; our time together is never long enough. We actually discussed visiting other Centers during the year and possible student exchanges. 

Other ways to help:
We rely on our wider community to keep the doors open so we can support all of the local youth who choose Deep Root Center. 

•  Straight Donations - one-time or recurring
• Sponsorships
  
•  Purchase items from our Amazon Wishlist

Did you know that some flat earth conspiracy theorists believe not only that the 1969 moon landing was faked, but that the Challenger disaster never happened — that those seven astronauts are out there somewhere living entirely different lives? 

When I learned that, it got me thinking about a piece I came across recently, a video or essay — I can no longer remember which — that examined the nature of stupidity. I've since tried to track it down, but without knowing the author or creator, it's effectively lost to me. It wasn't concerned with intelligence in the conventional sense. Instead, it focused on something more specific: the absence of imagination, a rigid mindset with the inability to think critically or creatively, and the failure to solve even straightforward problems. What struck me most was its portrait of the stupid person as an inherent follower — someone who cannot, or will not, think independently, and who clings to their beliefs even when confronted with plain evidence to the contrary.

The piece obviously made an impression. But I left it frustrated. It dwelt on the pathology of stupidity rather than turning the lens around and describing what genuine intelligence actually looks like. I understand it was built for a specific purpose, and it served that purpose well. I just wish it had done so by illuminating the positive rather than autopsying the negative.

Intelligence isn't simply the opposite of stupidity. It isn't only a high IQ, or the ability to memorize facts, ace a test, or follow instructions without deviation. It is something far more alive than any of those things.

Authentic intelligence is — in no particular order and not exhaustive:

• Admitting when you're wrong and apologizing when you've caused harm.
• Seeing problems not as obstacles but as puzzles worth solving.
• Understanding that the best way to learn something is to jump in, make mistakes, get messy, and try again, while exploring all of the possibilities.
• Knowing that learning is not a performance — it's a natural, lifelong process.
• Standing firmly in your authenticity without using it as a license for bad behavior.
• Possessing profound observational skills and insatiable curiosity, and having the courage to ask questions.
• The ability to take in new information, change your mind, and grow.
• Realizing that there are a multitude of learning styles and no one way is the correct way.
• Caring deeply about the earth and every living thing on it.
• Having humility and meeting others with empathy and kindness rather than judgment.
• Understanding that a learning disability does not diminish intelligence — and that using tools, strategies, and hacks to accomplish something is not cheating. It's resourcefulness.
• Recognizing that intelligence itself is wildly diverse, and that all forms of diversity are a strength.

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Many of the creative, curious, bright, and compassionate students who walk through our doors arrive carrying a deep and mistaken certainty that they are somehow less — because they can't sit still in a classroom, because their handwriting is a mess, because reading for comprehension feels like a battle, because math concepts seem written in another language, because memorizing anything feels impossible. They've been told, both directly and through the quiet cruelty of being dismissed, that something is wrong with them. 
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Our job is to dismantle that belief — with compassion, with affirmation, and by modeling what genuine intelligence actually looks like. When students begin to see themselves clearly, there is nothing they cannot do.