freedom
It’s been a couple of months since we pulled our boys out of public school and began our adventure in homeschooling. Although it’s feeling more and more “normal” I still wake up some mornings and feel like we’re all playing hooky and someone’s going to show up at the door with a badge. I always make sure to have my make-up on and hair brushed, just in case.
When we meet new people and they ask what school our kids go to I still have an out-of-body experience when I hear myself saying, “Actually…um…we’re homeschooling our kids.” The reaction we get has become so predictable that I feel slightly amused and slightly annoyed when I see that first look of amazement their face.
As their eyes narrow in their reassessment of who they think I am (since I apparently appear to be sane and normal), the first thing they want to know is, “Why?” It’s the most logical question but a tricky one to answer since I don’t want to offend them with the truth. We live in one of the best school districts in the state so I start with the disclaimer about how we’ve always had nice, dedicated teachers but we’ve just come to see education in a different light. It’s not the teachers we have a problem with, it’s the system. The soul-sucking, institutional, government run, bureaucratic, politically correct, watered down, broken system that can never be fixed. But I say it with a smile and not so many words.
The next reaction is usually a wide-eyed observation that, “Wow. You have to be with your kids all day, every day.” And to be honest, that was the thing that scared me the most when we decided to take on this endeavor. I’ve been a stay-at-home mom for over a decade but had been looking forward to having all the boys in school. I had an extensive list of things I wanted do with all that “me” time. When I kept getting nudges from above that we were supposed to go in this direction I thought, “Seriously, Lord?” But from past experience I’ve learned that His plans are a lot better than anything I’ve ever come up with.
I have to admit that before I really looked into it I had the false perception that homeschoolers were reclusive, over-protective, religious zealots along the lines of the Branch Davidians. Besides the fact that they won spelling bees I didn’t know much else about them. I soon found out that homeschooling families are independent minded, self-reliant people who not only want the best education for their kids, they’re going to personally make sure they get it. And they are as prolific as they are diverse.
After I met with several veteran homeschooling moms and attended a day-long seminar I learned that when you’re with your kids all the time you have no choice but to civilize them and build their character. And when you deal with the character issues then the academics naturally fall into place. Of course it’s a character building process for me, too. Things I need to work on like my temper and patience are brought into focus whether I like it or not. As one mom put it, “Parenting is God’s way of bringing you closer to Him and homeschooling is His way of growing you up.”
But one of the most unexpected things I’ve found as we’ve adapted to spending more time together is the boys actually get along better and I enjoy them more. We’ve had several days that went so well I found myself wishing we’d started homeschooling years ago. Gone are the harried mornings filled with lunch packing, homework gathering and rushing out the door. I no longer sit in endless lines to drop them off and pick them up just to deal with their decompression time (bickering) on the way home. Without the cloud of homework looming over our heads we can read, take walks and relax in the evenings. It’s surprisingly liberating to have the boys at home all the time.
I’m also liberated from the endless fundraisers, book orders, over-the-top “Winter Holiday” parties run by busy body classroom mothers involving specific napkins to bring and games to play. I no longer have pages and pages of papers requiring my signature. No more parent teacher conferences where I tell the teacher my son isn’t getting it and they smile and say, don’t worry, he’s fine. No he’s not! I can now state unequivocally that I am the P and the T in the PTA and we’re in agreement on what my kids understand and don’t understand.
I look back on the days when I peeled their little arms off my legs to send them to pre-school and cried as I walked away. I wish I hadn’t done that. I could have taught them their ABC’s just as well. I recall the times I had lunch with them in the dreary, institutional cafeteria with the depressing food and grouchy lunch people barking at them. They’d always look up with their sad eyes and beg to go home with me. They knew I’d say no so they’d sigh and stoically line up with their classmates as they watched me walk out the door into the sunshine.
These don’t seem to be things people want to hear because the next thing they say, the thing that causes me to take a deep breath and bite my tongue is, “Well I could never do it because my kids need the socialization.” In my head I think, really? If you think that locking a group of thirty kids of the same age in a room for years on end teaches them about the world and how to interact with those of different backgrounds and ages, you’re kidding yourself. Homeschooled kids have plenty of opportunities to interact with a wide range of people on fieldtrips, volunteering expeditions, support group meetings, and extra-curricular activities. The possibilities are endless.
I volunteered in the boys’ classrooms for years and could never get over all the crap those teachers had to deal with. The amount of time wasted dealing with the trouble making children was frustrating to watch. And from what I could tell, a kid had to practically pull out a knife before they’d send them to the principal. Children in school settings look to their peers for approval and acceptance. Home schooled kids look to their family. Who do you want your kids to model their behavior after? But instead of saying that, I just smile and say, sure. People that think schools provide healthy socialization aren’t going to listen to anything else.
This inevitably leads to the next response: the nightmare story. Everyone has one. “I knew a family that homeschooled their kids and they were awkward and wore high waters.” Or, “I know some people who got sick of it and ended up putting them back in school. Those kids never fit in.” To this I say that for every nightmare story there is a success story. I’ve met families with homeschooled kids who are now doctors, lawyers and entrepreneurs. And more importantly, they are emotionally healthy and well-rounded adults.
I hear nightmare stories about schools on a daily basis. Just turn on the TV and there are the bullies and pedophile teachers, the lock-downs and shootings. And don’t forget the drugs and sex and indoctrination. When I hear those stories I breathe a sigh of relief that the boys won’t have to go through all of that.
Then sometimes I have moments of, oh my gosh, I’m responsible for making sure three human beings are equipped with the tools they need to earn a living and provide for their families some day. Those are the moments I remind myself of everything I never learned in school. I made A’s and B’s so according to school standards I was a successful student. But I couldn’t tell you much about world history or algebra. I can recall hours or watching the clock, waiting for that bell to ring so I could escape to freedom. I look forward to re-learning things along with the boys and can’t wait to bring history and science and literature to life with them.
I also look forward to showering them with time and attention because in school they had been shy, well-behaved students that got overlooked in the classroom. I don’t blame the teachers for that. The squeaky wheel gets the oil and there were plenty of squeaky wheels to deal with. The boys no longer fear asking if they have a question. With just three students in our class there’s plenty of time to answer questions and go over things as many times as needed. And they can even use the restroom without permission. It’s almost like treating them as if they’re humans who deserve a little privacy now and then.
The final but unspoken question that people imply but are too polite to ask is, “How are you qualified? You didn’t even finish college. You hate math. You have no training in education.” And to that my reply is I’ve been teaching my children since the day they were born. Nobody knows them better, loves them as much or has more of a vested interest in their education than their own mother. My goal is not just to teach them facts and figures but to help them discover what their God-given purpose in life is.
I’ve come to see that education and furniture making have a lot in common. Public school is a lot like IKEA, functional and inexpensive. Private school is more like Ethan Allen, a higher quality and unrestrained by the political correctness of government entities. But homeschooling is a hand carved, dove-tailed kind of education. An education tailored to the child, not the other way around.
I’m fortunate to have this opportunity to spend this time with my kids. They will be grown and gone in the blink of an eye. I know it won’t be easy but it will be worth it. Just the other day my eight year-old who has always preferred numbers over words said, “I never realized how much fun writing could be, Mom!” That comment alone should get me through the first year.
When we meet new people and they ask what school our kids go to I still have an out-of-body experience when I hear myself saying, “Actually…um…we’re homeschooling our kids.” The reaction we get has become so predictable that I feel slightly amused and slightly annoyed when I see that first look of amazement their face.
As their eyes narrow in their reassessment of who they think I am (since I apparently appear to be sane and normal), the first thing they want to know is, “Why?” It’s the most logical question but a tricky one to answer since I don’t want to offend them with the truth. We live in one of the best school districts in the state so I start with the disclaimer about how we’ve always had nice, dedicated teachers but we’ve just come to see education in a different light. It’s not the teachers we have a problem with, it’s the system. The soul-sucking, institutional, government run, bureaucratic, politically correct, watered down, broken system that can never be fixed. But I say it with a smile and not so many words.
The next reaction is usually a wide-eyed observation that, “Wow. You have to be with your kids all day, every day.” And to be honest, that was the thing that scared me the most when we decided to take on this endeavor. I’ve been a stay-at-home mom for over a decade but had been looking forward to having all the boys in school. I had an extensive list of things I wanted do with all that “me” time. When I kept getting nudges from above that we were supposed to go in this direction I thought, “Seriously, Lord?” But from past experience I’ve learned that His plans are a lot better than anything I’ve ever come up with.
I have to admit that before I really looked into it I had the false perception that homeschoolers were reclusive, over-protective, religious zealots along the lines of the Branch Davidians. Besides the fact that they won spelling bees I didn’t know much else about them. I soon found out that homeschooling families are independent minded, self-reliant people who not only want the best education for their kids, they’re going to personally make sure they get it. And they are as prolific as they are diverse.
After I met with several veteran homeschooling moms and attended a day-long seminar I learned that when you’re with your kids all the time you have no choice but to civilize them and build their character. And when you deal with the character issues then the academics naturally fall into place. Of course it’s a character building process for me, too. Things I need to work on like my temper and patience are brought into focus whether I like it or not. As one mom put it, “Parenting is God’s way of bringing you closer to Him and homeschooling is His way of growing you up.”
But one of the most unexpected things I’ve found as we’ve adapted to spending more time together is the boys actually get along better and I enjoy them more. We’ve had several days that went so well I found myself wishing we’d started homeschooling years ago. Gone are the harried mornings filled with lunch packing, homework gathering and rushing out the door. I no longer sit in endless lines to drop them off and pick them up just to deal with their decompression time (bickering) on the way home. Without the cloud of homework looming over our heads we can read, take walks and relax in the evenings. It’s surprisingly liberating to have the boys at home all the time.
I’m also liberated from the endless fundraisers, book orders, over-the-top “Winter Holiday” parties run by busy body classroom mothers involving specific napkins to bring and games to play. I no longer have pages and pages of papers requiring my signature. No more parent teacher conferences where I tell the teacher my son isn’t getting it and they smile and say, don’t worry, he’s fine. No he’s not! I can now state unequivocally that I am the P and the T in the PTA and we’re in agreement on what my kids understand and don’t understand.
I look back on the days when I peeled their little arms off my legs to send them to pre-school and cried as I walked away. I wish I hadn’t done that. I could have taught them their ABC’s just as well. I recall the times I had lunch with them in the dreary, institutional cafeteria with the depressing food and grouchy lunch people barking at them. They’d always look up with their sad eyes and beg to go home with me. They knew I’d say no so they’d sigh and stoically line up with their classmates as they watched me walk out the door into the sunshine.
These don’t seem to be things people want to hear because the next thing they say, the thing that causes me to take a deep breath and bite my tongue is, “Well I could never do it because my kids need the socialization.” In my head I think, really? If you think that locking a group of thirty kids of the same age in a room for years on end teaches them about the world and how to interact with those of different backgrounds and ages, you’re kidding yourself. Homeschooled kids have plenty of opportunities to interact with a wide range of people on fieldtrips, volunteering expeditions, support group meetings, and extra-curricular activities. The possibilities are endless.
I volunteered in the boys’ classrooms for years and could never get over all the crap those teachers had to deal with. The amount of time wasted dealing with the trouble making children was frustrating to watch. And from what I could tell, a kid had to practically pull out a knife before they’d send them to the principal. Children in school settings look to their peers for approval and acceptance. Home schooled kids look to their family. Who do you want your kids to model their behavior after? But instead of saying that, I just smile and say, sure. People that think schools provide healthy socialization aren’t going to listen to anything else.
This inevitably leads to the next response: the nightmare story. Everyone has one. “I knew a family that homeschooled their kids and they were awkward and wore high waters.” Or, “I know some people who got sick of it and ended up putting them back in school. Those kids never fit in.” To this I say that for every nightmare story there is a success story. I’ve met families with homeschooled kids who are now doctors, lawyers and entrepreneurs. And more importantly, they are emotionally healthy and well-rounded adults.
I hear nightmare stories about schools on a daily basis. Just turn on the TV and there are the bullies and pedophile teachers, the lock-downs and shootings. And don’t forget the drugs and sex and indoctrination. When I hear those stories I breathe a sigh of relief that the boys won’t have to go through all of that.
Then sometimes I have moments of, oh my gosh, I’m responsible for making sure three human beings are equipped with the tools they need to earn a living and provide for their families some day. Those are the moments I remind myself of everything I never learned in school. I made A’s and B’s so according to school standards I was a successful student. But I couldn’t tell you much about world history or algebra. I can recall hours or watching the clock, waiting for that bell to ring so I could escape to freedom. I look forward to re-learning things along with the boys and can’t wait to bring history and science and literature to life with them.
I also look forward to showering them with time and attention because in school they had been shy, well-behaved students that got overlooked in the classroom. I don’t blame the teachers for that. The squeaky wheel gets the oil and there were plenty of squeaky wheels to deal with. The boys no longer fear asking if they have a question. With just three students in our class there’s plenty of time to answer questions and go over things as many times as needed. And they can even use the restroom without permission. It’s almost like treating them as if they’re humans who deserve a little privacy now and then.
The final but unspoken question that people imply but are too polite to ask is, “How are you qualified? You didn’t even finish college. You hate math. You have no training in education.” And to that my reply is I’ve been teaching my children since the day they were born. Nobody knows them better, loves them as much or has more of a vested interest in their education than their own mother. My goal is not just to teach them facts and figures but to help them discover what their God-given purpose in life is.
I’ve come to see that education and furniture making have a lot in common. Public school is a lot like IKEA, functional and inexpensive. Private school is more like Ethan Allen, a higher quality and unrestrained by the political correctness of government entities. But homeschooling is a hand carved, dove-tailed kind of education. An education tailored to the child, not the other way around.
I’m fortunate to have this opportunity to spend this time with my kids. They will be grown and gone in the blink of an eye. I know it won’t be easy but it will be worth it. Just the other day my eight year-old who has always preferred numbers over words said, “I never realized how much fun writing could be, Mom!” That comment alone should get me through the first year.
1 Comments:
I'm so happy you are all enjoying it. I'm proud and envious all at the same time.
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