 “Volcanic" action When asked to describe the young people who actively choose DRC, my answer is always the same: they are excited to be here. They arrive curious and creative, eager to explore every possibility, and hungry to spread their wings and chase their dreams. Some arrive unsure, withdrawn, buried under layers of hurt — but the spark is there. It simply needs the right conditions to find its way to the surface and ignite. The adults here exist for one purpose — to create those conditions, and to champion every adventure and discovery that follows. But there is one lesson we have learned, time and again: choosing DRC as a last resort — because a parent demands it, or because every other door is shut — is no foundation to build on. It will always fail. And still, every single time, I hope — and every single time, my heart gets broken by reality. This is one of the reasons we built a month-long trial period into our membership process. But if I am being completely honest, we sometimes see the signs and choose to look away — because hope is a hard thing to set down, even when wisdom says you should. This week, I am revisiting a post from ten years ago that speaks to this very topic — and polishing it now, I find it as true and as necessary as the day I wrote it. Offering Opportunities and Honoring Decisions 2/8/2016 Thank you for indulging my storytelling instincts as I share two moments from this past week — small in scale, but perfect in what they reveal about the heart of what we do here. On Monday morning, a student who had been enrolled to audit a college class came to me with three words I wasn't expecting: "I want to withdraw.” Honestly, my heart sank. I had quietly cast her as DRC's pioneer at SUNY Canton — blazing a trail for future students, opening doors, all of that. The story I had written for her was already half-finished in my head. Then she kept talking. She explained that after honestly and carefully weighing every factor — including the very real possibility of disappointing me and her family — she had concluded that she belongs here, at the Center, working alongside the other kids, deep in her hands-on projects. She loves the horse farm and her mentor there. And as a sophomore, she has already pored over the catalogs and websites of colleges with equine programs — while leaving open the possibility that college may not be her immediate next step at all. How could I possibly be upset? She had done exactly what I have always encouraged her to do. The process she followed — honest, thorough, entirely her own — is self-directed learning. There is no purer example of it. Every Thursday, DRC heads out on an excursion. This past week, we were invited to the very horse farm where that above student is an apprentice. Eight kids piled into two vehicles — mud boots, winter gear (on most of them) — for the short drive outside of Canton. A few of those kids are, to put it plainly, horse-obsessed. The others couldn't care less about horses, but will never say no to fresh air and room to run. This story is about one of the latter. The farm's owner brought us to the paddock to retrieve Blackberry — a small black pony with a mischievous glint in his eye — and attached the cross ties to his halter inside the barn. She talked about safety, cleared up a few myths, then picked up a curry comb and handed it to the boy standing closest to her. What happened next is hard to describe any other way than pure, unadulterated love. An immediate and wordless connection between a kid who came for the fresh air and a pony who apparently needed exactly this boy. He had no interest in the other horses brought out. When Blackberry was eventually returned to his paddock, the boy followed to the fence and stood there, continuing whatever quiet conversation they had started.  Many people — including prospective students — don't fully grasp that DRC runs entirely on volition. Every student chooses when to show up and what to do while they're here. And many don't believe us when we say the kids arrive as early as they possibly can and sometimes have to be asked to leave at the end of the day — until it happens with their own child, on the very first day. Each student understands something essential: they are genuinely responsible for building this community. Its warmth, its safety, its spirit — that belongs to them. I believe this happens because of one thing we never waver on: we trust them. We support their choices. We hold them — and what they care about — in genuine respect. The only guideline we have ever asked anyone to follow is this: Respect yourself, everyone here, and this space. My most important job — despite everything else on my list — is to stop talking and truly listen. Not just to words, but to what goes unspoken. To body language, to energy, to the quiet cynicism that sometimes sits just behind a student's eyes when they first walk through our door. Those observations — gathered in initial meetings, mentoring sessions, quick check-ins, and passing moments throughout every day — tell me what each person needs right now: something physical, something inspiring, or something that simply says you are seen. At the center of every one of those connections is trust. I believe, without exception, that each of my students has a good heart and an open mind — that curiosity and talent live inside every one of them, however deeply buried they may be in the moment. The proposals we make are suggestions, nothing more. There are no ultimatums, no guilt, no coercion. Every class, project, excursion, and conversation happens by choice. And those choices matter more than we can measure. Sometimes an opportunity becomes the key that unlocks something powerful and completely unexpected. Other times, it simply confirms what a student already knew — and gives them the confidence to stay true to their own path. Both outcomes are exactly right. DRC NewsWeekly Wrap-up It has been one of those weeks! I don’t say it often, but in this case, I am very happy to leave it behind. And, unfortunately, we have very few photos to share. Monday: The boys moved a table from the garage into the music room to hold a PC that has been retired from the Seedlings Room and replaced with one that has been refurbished by a DRC parent. Thursday: We finally exploded our volcanoes in Kitchen Sink Science. E, E, and K made the volcanoes with papier-mache over a bottle. They also gave us a quick earth science lesson about plate tectonics and the formation of volcanoes. This lesson expanded on our KSS from a few weeks ago when we tested acids and bases with purple cabbage juice and pH strips. Our cooks made chicken noodle soup and garlic bread for lunch. The basketball hoop saw lots of action all week.  Volunteer Opportunities: We are looking for 8-10 volunteers, for the 26/27 academic year, who are excited to spend time with our youth for 2 days each month. If you have any of the below skills or any other interests that you would like to share, please get in touch.
 Homeschool Support  In-Person Enrollment Enrollment is open for the 26/27 academic year. We are here for kids who are anxious to take charge of their education. Contact Maria for more information. 
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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]