It takes a village

One of the things I most love about getting out to places is the opportunity to learn from people who are passionate and knowledgeable about their particular area. We tend to frequent places at quiet times during the week and so get the chance to monopolise these wonderful experts for as long as we want. 

There are the old codgers at Men In Sheds, the Age Concern shop that sells reconditioned tools, who will discuss with the deepest seriousness with a 4 year old the relative merits of various designs of hand drill. 

The volunteers at Bristol Museum who took the various groups in the HE session and each brought a different style and approach to the activities. 

Then there are people like Harry at Escot's Anglo-Saxon village, who will answer any question about the Anglo-Saxons (turns out Daniel had been listening to me after all!), gets small children involved in using hand-carved mallets to split kindling and build up the fire, recruits their help to cook a full meal for the other staff, and just so happens to have an encyclopaedic knowledge of dinosaurs.

The friend with a degree in Classical Civilisations who will happily answer urgent questions about Roman emergency services via Facebook Messenger at 11pm. 

The restorers working on an obelisk we came across on a woodland walk, who told us all about steeplejacks, safety ropes, repointing and guilding. 

The lady at the Dulux centre who took the time to explain and demonstrate the colour-mixing machine to the boys. 

Craftsmen, academics, amateur enthusiasts. All so generous with their time and knowledge. Where would we be without them?

And, of course, there are the people we see regularly - other parents, forest school leaders, extended family. 

The grandfather who will drop everything to make quill pens using a real pen knife, or introduce a 5yo to soldering by helping him fix a broken police siren using parts from a pocket torch from a Christmas cracker. (Incidentally, that same grandfather is just as likely to produce Tibetan singing bowls or bagpipes, or answer in-depth questions about British Roman archaeology!)

The uncle who is THE person to ask about all things lego or medieval knights and castles. 

The grandmother who explains the life cycle of a coddling moth while collecting apples for juice, or helps them identify a frilly parasol mushroom, or provides a real working stethoscope and blood pressure monitor when teddy falls out of a tree. 

There are times when the term ‘home education’ seems like such a misnomer, and ‘community-based education’ would far more accurately reflect what we do. Whatever we call it, I am so grateful for our ‘village’. Our lives - and our children’s education - are so much richer for having these amazing people around us.