About Punk & Pedagogy

Something is wrong and you know it.

Not in a catastrophizing way. In a quiet, persistent, 3am way. The world your kids are inheriting feels like it's losing the plot and you're trying to figure out what to hand them.

I'm not sure books are the answer. But I find something deeply reassuring in knowing they exist. That someone, somewhere, already sat with the question you're carrying and wrote it down. That the confusion you feel has a shape. That you're not making it up.

That's what this place is really about. Not reading lists. Not curricula. Finding other people who are still asking. Parents who are angry and hopeful in equal measure. Who haven't outsourced the big questions to the algorithm. Who believe that a curious kid  who questions, makes, resists, imagines might actually be what the world needs next.

I built P&P because I couldn't find my people. And I thought if I built the right kind of place, they might find me.

P&P loves people. That's the whole thing, really. Not ideas in the abstract, not causes, not movements — people. The specific, messy, funny, grieving, resilient ones who happen to live somewhere and have something true to say about it. Every book here was chosen because a person wrote it. Every stage in the arc exists because people feel those things. Every workshop we're building is for the small people who are still figuring out what kind of person they want to be.

Meanwhile, in Long Beach...

What I'm actually building is the Department of Childish Revolution, a creative program for young people starting in Long Beach, California where kids make films, tell stories, and learn to see through a lens that's entirely their own. Not a school. Something wilder.

P&P is how I find their families first.

If something here feels familiar or, if you've ever felt the specific loneliness of thinking differently and wanting more for your kid than the world is currently offering, then you're probably who I'm looking for.

And your kid is probably who we're building this for.