I’ve never been comfortable identifying myself as a “homeschooler” or an “unschooler”…or, for that matter, as a “life learner.” I have a hard enough time being “the person who’s learning to be human!” I’ve also never been comfortable with other categories of self-description like “environmentalist” or “feminist,” although I probably fit into both...in some ways. And that’s the problem: Part of being human is having an individual identity and not lumping oneself into various categories ending in “ist” or “er” or “ism” and filled with millions of other people. In fact, all that wearisome slicing, dicing, slotting and labelling is one of the aspects of school that I’ve railed against for over three decades! 

Since we need descriptive words in order to converse among ourselves and to communicate about our lives with others, I’ve at least tried to find terminology that is, indeed, descriptive (such as “life learning”) and positive while not limiting what is, after all, a very fluid approach to living, learning and parenting. Still, discussions about the definitions of the myriad categories – and how one fits into them or not – always leave me feeling a bit uncomfortable. There’s one in this issue: In her “Talking About Life Learning” conversation with Sandra Rakovac, New Zealand mother Lishelle de Young talks about the difference between “radical unschooling” and “unschooling.” When I took this topic of language to our Reader Advisory Panel,* someone pointed out that such terms are used more or less in various countries and, perhaps, even have slightly different meanings in different places. Aarrgghh. 

But then there’s Theresa Shea’s article in this issue, which describes what happens when she’s around people who don’t share her philosophy. And that’s what made me realize that describing ourselves and our families’ lives via precise words is not about labelling, one-up-manship or peer group pressure. It’s about finding our tribe. It’s about identifying with like-minded people in a world of other-minded ones. In addition to our strong need to establish a unique persona, we human beings also have an equally strong desire to be accepted, to be among people who understand our choices, who accept us as we are, without reservation, and who support us on our journey. 

The need to identify and be identified by a supportive community is especially intense when our journey follows a lightly trodden path, when we are taking risks. The need for nourishment from such a group of like-minded people is probably also stronger when we’re living in nuclear families, isolated at home with very young children or feeling the lack of the status that society unfortunately gives to those who go to jobs. 

The Internet has helped many people find their tribes. And I’m pleased to know (because so many of you take the time to tell me) that this magazine has, over the last five years, become such a community. So label it what you will, as long as it works!