by ps pirro
Back from spring ARGH, the twice-yearly unschooler gathering in the mountains of east Tennessee. A smaller group this time, fewer families, less frenetic, with plenty of time and space to wander and think and porch-sit and play.
ARGH stands for Autodidactic Radical Gathering of Homeschoolers. Kind of a mouthful. But it makes for a memorable acronym. And memorable gatherings. We’ve been to five so far. I like to imagine that we’ll just keep going, growing old among these people who are our spirit sisters and brothers, our found family.Returning from a gathering or a conference always entails a period of re-acclimation. I’m tired from the long drive, and sad to leave people with whom I feel such a sense of ease, knowing it will be months before I see them again. Once home, I find myself at loose ends for days, not sure which threads to pick up from my daily life, and which to leave alone. Before I left I made a list of new projects I want to work on, but now I look at the list and can’t muster the energy to begin any of them.
Re-entry takes time. I think I’ll give myself some.