Weeks 23 & 24 2025-2026
These first two weeks back from spring break were marked by reconnection, growth, and change as we returned to each other, the land, and our spaces. We returned to seasonal traditions, and to the rapid emergence of an early spring. I know we say it a lot, and perhaps this is because it's always true, but these weeks - they were full to bursting. The onramp back to community was both steep and slow, somehow. We all noted that after our breaks, the group tends to gravitate towards complex, open, free play. And this makes sense. Free play is where we practice being people, all of us, and where we practice being together. It's truly where we learn everything we need to know.
Free play is the space where all of us practice connecting, being in our power, and learning that we do have power to engage with and transform our worlds.
Young people here almost immediately generated myriad rich play scenarios at the week's beginning - most of the older young people moving into a game they referred to as "The Murder Game” or “Someone Died,” complete with currency, complicated character identities, distinct roles, kid-created rules and guidelines, and so much communication, laughter, and joy (and yes, also “murder”!). The game evolved over the course of our first week back together, and the young people added layers of depth to the play each day they resurrected it.
The youngest young people were pulled into free play of different sorts - open-ended creativity, water play, digging in the dirt and mulch, searching for frogs, visiting the pond and watching the mated pair of ducks that is an annual forest fixture. They "mined" in the mud in Cramped Canyon and delighted in finding frogs, turtles, and turtle shells. Free play among everyone overlapped and created many opportunities for beautiful mixed-age experiences - tag, hide-and-seek, and even a pop-up homemade Slip-n-Slide that transformed an actual slide into a wet playscape on a surprisingly hot day. The connection and communication, the ways the young people problem-solve with ease and take care of one another…these moments are what wire us for resilience in relationship now and in the future.
If these moments are all we had together, would we consider them "enough"? Is it enough to learn how to communicate, practice consent, figure things out, argue a bit, navigate conflict, learn to apologize well, reflect, change our behavior, and then try again, repeat? Consider the prominence of these skills in your life - most of us are still learning and practicing them (we certainly are).
What if we'd all had the opportunity to “just” engage with these skills, all day, every day, instead of practicing…long division?
We digress. So much more than "just" the interpersonal transpired these two weeks - we filled both the visible, official schedule and the shadow schedule, simultaneously. We intentionally discussed what care and presence in our new spaces might feel and look like, and then mapped out norms and ways of being that would bring that care and presence to life. We asked, “What can we put in place that feels good to all of us, and that everyone can agree to? How can we bring up norms with one another if we notice folks aren’t sticking to them in ways that sound like connected care vs. policing? What are we all willing to do to hold ourselves accountable?” Several young people eagerly organized and cleaned, establishing with consent new schemes for storing supplies neatly and tidying up after their use. Organizing fabric and thread in rainbow order was particularly exciting!
We recorded our first episode of what we’re referring to as the TCC Radio Show - and what a beautiful conversation it was. We cannot wait to share it with the world! Through this process we’ve been confronted with questions about how to manage background noise, how to collectively write a song, how and who will edit the episodes, how we’ll manage constraints on space and microphones against larger numbers of folks who want to be in on these recorded conversations, and more.
Knowing that the time for our annual Redbud & Lemon Cornmeal Loaf Cake was near, we searched the forest for signs of spring our first week back, and in the second, gathered redbuds, violets, and spring beauties by the handful. We collected and combined ingredients, and transformed them into a beautiful confection, which, we agreed, was the most exquisite rendition yet. Other foragable friends returned - henbit, purple dead nettle, chickweed. We’re watching Mayapple and bloodroot unfurl from the forest floor, as well.
These weeks saw several other offerings: Staffs with Sarah, during which we’re decorating and learning to spin large wooden staffs; Root Magic book club, which met for the almost-final time; and Train Club. DnD saw a resurrection by way of a new, child-led campaign, complete with the making of a new fantasy map and complex characters (both in terms of game mechanics and backstory). In the shadowy background: singing, dancing, music-making in the digital studio, drawing, small hand-sewing projects (scrunchies, bandanas, a pillow), erecting a makeshift rain shelter in the forest, tidying indoors and out as we prepared for our spring virtual open house and for many tours and new-family visits, abundant connecting conversations, and mud (so much mud!).
Spring reminds us of the constancy of change - this time of year brings with it a predictable newness and (re)emergence. As we cycle into another season, we hold and ground one another in another constant: that we can figure just about anything out, because we’re together, and we’ve had practice being together and Figuring Things Out.
Amidst change, we remember our roots.
With care, gratitude, and hope for the future,
Emily, Sarah, and Zoey