our pairs of worn hiking boots of various sizes, ranging from small to large, are lined up in a row on a sunlit green lawn. The boots are muddy, suggesting a family or group trek, with a grassy garden and trees visible in the soft-focus background.

The View from the Summit: Lessons in Learning and Home Education

Seven years ago, I trained in VERVE. It aligned beautifully with Home Education. Alice from Streams kindly invited me to write about my experiences, and about how inclusion is woven into both approaches. If my words resonate, please feel welcome to contact me – Gillian Bolton (VERVE for Home Education)


When you reach the top of any hill it is time to pause, turn, and look back.

Our eldest was 3y, her brother a baby, when we set out on this path. Now there are just the two of us here – my partner and I – at the summit enjoying the view and reflecting on how far we’ve come.

The 3y old now works full time in a theatre and her younger brother spends his working life in the Cairngorms. Different from each other in many ways, they are similar in others:

  • self-motivated
  • independent
  • hardworking
  • creative
  • imaginative
  • astute
  • compassionate

people who continue to seek out knowledge and opportunity.

What is so apparent, when viewed from higher ground, is that they always were. We did not shape them that way, we simply did our best to provide the environment, the nurture, the support they needed at each stage of growth to ensure they stayed that way.

The Home Ed community in our area was thriving, welcoming and inclusive.

Our children enjoyed weekly sessions of sport, climbing, and drama and we belonged to a group, run by families, where children of all ages engaged enthusiastically with diverse topic-based activities, followed by chasing or chatting in the park.

We developed friendships based on shared interests not age.

Those connections took time to find and build but we met so many lovely like-minded people of all ages and made lifelong friends.

Overall, it was a positive experience for our family, and we have no regrets.

There are definitely things we would do differently with hindsight. Our children thrived with what we were able to provide and despite our inevitable shortcomings.

We try not to wear rose-tinted glasses when people ask us about our experience!

We had not planned to Home Educate.

I was a Speech and Language Therapist before I became a mum. With 10 years’ experience in ‘Parent Child Interaction Therapy’ I cared deeply about the parent-child relationship and the importance of play. That guided much of what we did in our first 3 years as parents.

We saw a huge change in our daughter after she started nursery. Her protests were loud and prolonged. Two terms in, staff reassured us that tears were not a problem; she would learn to ‘cope’ so she could ‘manage’ school.

We couldn’t leave her, at that tender age, in an environment where the only aspiration for her was that she coped.

We decided to delay school entry until she was 5y.

The nursery teacher kindly warned us that she ‘would have to go out into the real world at some point’.

We thanked her, and our daughter continued to go out in the real word alongside us… to the park, the library, the swimming pool… on other days we stayed home, baked, read stories, and played.

I found it fascinating observing my children play.

Neuroscientists and child development experts know play is vital to emotional well-being and brain development, but it is routinely sacrificed in schools to formal teaching and testing.

At home we were tiptoeing through vast Playmobil and Lego landscapes, like giants in Lilliput, when the children were at, if not beyond, the top end of primary education.

The ways in which play supported their development were as limitless as their imaginations.

The other fascination for me, as a SLT, was watching their cognitive skills unfold and their language skills emerge.

They were insatiably curious:

What are my teeth made of mummy?
Why is the sky blue?
Do trees ever get hungry?
How do hedgehogs laugh?
Why can’t I see my voice?
What do wasps eat?
Why do pigeons have eyes on the sides of their heads?
What does atmosphere mean?
Where do tigers come from?
How do snails poo?
Do people still eat when they’re dead?

No wonder I was tired a lot of the time. We did not need to motivate them to learn, we could not stop them.

As our eldest approached 5, we were immersing ourselves in a welcoming community of Elective Home Educators and wondering if school was going to be necessary.

Whatever route you take into Home Education, as a parent, you experience mixed feelings. Liberated but daunted. Excited but scared.

Offering our children ‘education otherwise than at school’, means deciding what ‘otherwise’ is going to look like.

There is no map.

An overwhelming minefield of educational approaches, philosophies and opinions, but no map.

We dabbled with Steiner, I read about Montessori, we watched an inspiring film about unschooling. Elements of each appealed.

We also drew from our own memories of school, incorporating elements we assumed were essential.

You gradually realise cultural norms are often just that. What worked for the Victorians wasn’t necessarily useful. Changes in education driven by the industrial revolution were questionable.

We shifted our understanding of learning.

At 17 our daughter chose to join the local grammar school Sixth Form.

At parents’ evening each teacher told the same story; a delight to teach, confident, an enthusiastic participant in class discussion, self-motivated, and her work was excellent.

They praised how well she had settled in and made friends, assuring us this was challenging for students transferring from another school.

We realised they had no idea she had not been to school before.

At graduation, her university lecturers described her in the same way.

Our son, an equally delightful, active and enthusiastic child chose not to go to school at all.

He:

  • enjoyed Home Ed club, theatre group, climbing, cycling, hill walking
  • built lots of models
  • climbed lots of trees
  • dug an impressive hole in our back garden and turned it into a den
  • became a young leader at Scouts
  • volunteered with a local canal society
  • helped a friend build a roundhouse on his farm (now let out as holiday accommodation)

He also dabbled with carpentry, guitar and welding, and, like his sister, studied at home for a handful of GCSEs.

Volunteering for the canal society led to a part time job with an independent narrowboat hire company.

Another volunteering opportunity, which he arranged for himself at the age of 18, led directly to full time employment ideally suited to his varied interests and skills.

As the previous blogs have articulated so clearly, what is fundamental is not the philosophy or curriculum we choose but our relationship with our child.

In 2019 I trained in VERVE Child Interaction Therapy. It has the same foundations as other interactive approaches which I favoured during my NHS career; in the early 90s interactive approaches marked a shift in professional thinking – away from traditional behaviourist models in which the child is a passive learner, supported through a cycle of assessment, target setting, and adult led intervention.

In VERVE sessions, video reflection is the key to witnessing the unique dance of interaction between parent and child and recognising and endorsing the intuitive skills of both.

It enables parents to experiment and see how subtle changes in their approach have significant impact.

I have gained a deeper understanding, through VERVE, of why relationship is key to a child’s development.

It has also inspired me to read more widely on this topic. Practitioners such as Gordon Neufeld and Dr Sue Gerhardt give insight into the key role parents play in meeting our children’s needs and how our love shapes their brains. Neuroscientists, like Prof. Sam Wass, have shown exactly what is happening during adult-child interactions using technology that measures brain activity and heart rate and why co-regulation is vital.

Interactive approaches also changed the role of the therapist. I was struck by the words of a therapist who had used VERVE for many years. She was no longer ‘the fixer, the therapy provider, the expert, the advice giver’. She had become ‘listener, observer, a sounding board, a facilitator, a co-investigator, an experimenter and a cheering squad’ for parents she worked with.

What struck me was that this was the exact shift we had made in supporting our children’s learning through Home Education.

I began to integrate VERVE into interactions with my own children – then teenagers.

I remember a moment when I was just about to lean in and correct my son’s finger position on the guitar fret board. I caught myself and zipped my lips. Within a few moments of silent experimentation, he found the chord shape.

My daughter was in Sixth Form and needed me to step more frequently into the role of co-regulator. When she needed to vent about the demands or injustices of the day, silence and attuned listening were key. Too often we give unsolicited advice or unintentionally negate their feelings. I learnt so much through VERVE that would have enabled us to better support their learning, and their emotional development when they were younger.

Home Educating our own children we intuitively know when it’s working – we enjoy the connection.

We also feel it deeply when we are disconnected; when we have brought a learning activity to the table, and our child shows no interest or protests. When we respond to a sudden spark of curiosity about a new topic and find our tidal wave of enthusiasm has put out their fire rather than kindled it.

We wobble. Can I do this? What even is ‘this’? Our confidence drops. Self-doubt increases.

VERVE enables us to understand and regulate our own nervous system and then respond rather than react.

Parents need every ounce of confidence in their decision to home educate – as has always been the case – but also to advocate for their children in the face of increasing regulation. Home Ed and VERVE are both inherently inclusive: they can foster every child’s innate love of learning, regardless of age, interests, or diagnostic labels, and every parents’ ability to walk beside their child and provide the support they need in each moment.

One of the benefits for us as a family was shifting to the mindset of ‘lifelong learning’. We included ourselves as learners. Our children have flown the nest now and I continue to follow threads that interest me.


Support for Families

“VERVE supports families in understanding and strengthening the everyday interactions that shape a child’s development. Whether you’re looking for guidance, reassurance, or therapy support, this is a place to start.” Keena Cummins, SLT, Founder of VERVE


Gillian Bolton has been a Speech & Language Therapist since 1992, working mainly in the NHS, and moved into independent practice in 2019. She offers VERVE via home visits and telehealth (video call). Both as a therapist and as a mother to two young adults who were Home Educated, Gillian has seen how VERVE benefits families, supporting children’s well-being and helping them reach their unique potential.

She provides tailored support to help parents better understand and meet their child’s needs and emerging skills, particularly in relation to learning (including literacy) and emotional well-being (regulation). More details about VERVE for Home Education can be found here.

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