Homeschool. Ah, how I loathe the word.
It’s back on the table, y’all, and I’m eyeing it like a weary barn cat with a surprise litter of babies to feed.
There are people who love it; there are people who mock it. But there is one thing for dang certain–some people take to it better than others.
They are the doers, no doubt, the kind that love family time and conquering projects with a good dose of teamwork. They are habit-happy, disciplined and discerning–weeding out the unnecessary and proud of their many accomplishments. They don’t waste time. Their houses are clean, because chores are assigned. They set the table and clean it off. Their kids do not wander through the galley kitchen, mindlessly grabbing a handful of Cheezits from the pantry and leaving the box tipped over. Their kids pick up and throw away the hundred zillion paper airplanes they crank out, assembly-line style. They don’t race in circles around the house or dismount the trampoline with bloody noses. They light candles and gather for cozy, marathon read-aloud sessions. They get along.
At least this is what I’ve always assumed, and therefore concluded I had no business ever pretending I could manage such a lifestyle. Yet here we are again, Fate spinning the Wheel of fortune and sticking a firm landing on Homeschool, Suckers!
I’d be lying if I said I’m thrilled.
In modern hipster-speak: I, an Enneagram 5, am married to Joe, an Enneagram 9, and we suffer the curse of being doing-repressed. Snicker all you want–it is categorically unfair. We are, by nature, sorely lacking in energy. We can barely get our kids to bed at night, let alone plan for the insurmountable task of implementing curriculum. We hide, rarely surface in public, ever cautious of overextending ourselves. Doing too much causes us major stress–it’s our biggest handicap. We manage life by scraping out a lowkey existence.
Our kids, if they are great kids (and I’m partial), are so because we love them, nothing more.
I don’t think it’s fair that people who are good at it constantly pin their homeschool badge to every bio, handle, resume, and “about the author” blurb. I’m terrible at schooling, but I’m not a failure of a mom for delegating it to the professionals.
The thing is, homeschooling doesn’t count a lick in the grand scheme of things. No one will ask you when you are eighty if you homeschooled your children. It is irrelevant and sort of conceited. It’s like making sure the world knows I hang my clothes on the line to dry instead of using the dryer (though imagine the energy savings). What matters is that I care enough about the clothes on my back to wash them once in a while. I take good care of what I’ve been given.
I say this to encourage you readers who find yourselves in the same unfortunate circumstances. This is for all of you who have never homeschooled before because your conscience never pestered you about it until now. You are not alone in this endeavor. Homeschool has only ever been the back-est of backup plans for us, too.
My husband, nearly forty years old, rolls his eyes if you ask him what he thought of being homeschooled as a child. My mother-in-law has birthday card-shamed me for making my kids go to public, where they “probably sit at a desk, staring longingly out the window, wishing they were free to play.”
Church people have offered remarks like aren’t you afraid for them? Too bad you’ll have to unteach them all the bad stuff they learn there. It’s a waste of time. They only teach to the middle. Do you really expect your kids to set a good example? Wouldn’t they do better at home?
This feels like a slap in the face to any parent who really, truly is just looking for an ally in the kid-raising business. Any schooling option has its pros and cons; the choice cannot be reduced to what-ifs. Of course we will still need to manage behavior and expectations: any conversation surrounding the viability of school ought not doom a parent to immediate failure.
Like millions of other parents, I’ve been scouring the internet since June for options. I’m not going private, for many personal reasons (but let’s be honest, money). I’m stumbling upon homeschool blogs who plug it as the only breeding ground for “family unity” and “Individualized learning”–but it seems like more of an excuse to homeschool for people who already love the lifestyle it offers.
My family is the opposite of a traditional, well-oiled machine. We are flounderers. We are imposters. I can’t even open the mail on a regular basis.
But here I am.
Public school is failing me. My governor is failing me. News outlets are propagating fear and dread.The world is terrified of breathing in a virus, and my only standing choice is to rely on the computer for remote learning. I could stand, yelling into the wind, hoping for some reason to catch on, but I’m a quick learner. I don’t want to send my kids into a vitriol panic at the local school, so I’m keeping them home.
For the foreseeable future.
Fortunately, I’ve done this before. Unfortunately, I’m doing it again.
Listen: I am not a legit homeschooler. I’m as reluctant as they come. But dang it, I’ve been drafted back into the service, and I’m going to give it all I’ve got until God discharges me with honorable merits.
So–for the uncertain, reluctant public schoolers out there commencing a tentative homeschool journey–I propose we stick together and buoy each other above the waves.
First, try to nail down the reasons you are taking this path.
Obviously, school is no guarantee, and right off the bat we are facing summer slide. Amid the politics and sickness going around, it is necessary to do whatever it takes to move forward in our education.
My family’s primary concerns at this point hover around the concept of computer-based learning. Public schools are worried about health and safety, but they are not coming up with a great alternative to being in class. The problem of computer learning for multiple young students at home is that it exceeds my ability to manage the situation. Something is funky about little boys and their brains on computers, and scheduled, hourly check-ins with various teachers is, for me, the worst ball and chain. What if I need to get groceries? What if I have an appointment? What if my four year old is throwing a huge screaming fit? It is too much to manage.
Therefore, this year my learning goal is excellent forward motion, minimal screen time, reasonable expectations.
(Note: it isn’t the goal that holds me up as “the best teacher for my kids”–a trap many fall into and sets parents up for failure and despair or on the flip side, pride and contempt for public education.)
Second, let your local school district know your plan to homeschool. I am still holding out till this week to see if, by some miracle, things will revert to normal. But many districts require fourteen days notice before the first day of school, so check into it.
Also, look up the your state’s standards on the Department of Education website, and jot down the core, primary standards and must-dos:
Is your child in a grade where state testing is mandatory? What are the expected areas of study? What does a family need to record? How many days of learning per year?
Hold these things lightly, because the world is a trainwreck right now, and sadly, chances are good there are many, many kids who will be far behind when we are all back in school eventually.
Excellent forward motion, reasonable expectations. I’ll try and post weekly some resources and ideas that are helping me stay relatively in the forward-motion–at least till things get back on track. We will get through it, and we will do it because we love our kids.
Encourage one another–from one reluctant homeschooler to another.
