I’m not sure if I told y’all this, but last May I entered into conversations with the local elementary school about partial enrollment for BigGuy. I wanted him in math and science. They wanted him to start with art, music and phys ed. Ummmm… nothanks. And they wanted him to take some math test that would have determined whether he could be in advanced math… even though he wasn’t going to be put in math at the school. Ummmm… no, thanks again.
Wait, wait, wait… I don’t mean for this to sound like the district people are unhelpful morons. Quite the opposite. Honestly and truly. Continue reading Testing, testing… 1, 2, 3→
I was hanging with a friend who publicly schools her oldest but is wondering if public school is a good fit for her middle child (who would enter Kindy next year). In the process of talking, I spoke about the various things I’m tired of hearing people say in response to hearing that we homeschool. (see “I can’t homeschool because…”)
But it brought up a good point: what WOULD you say. As I noted in the above-referenced post, you would say the same things you’d say to someone when you find out what public or private school their kids go to–especially one you know nothing about. How would you respond to someone saying that they sent their kids to a well-noted private school? What would you say to someone when they are in a crappy school district? Your responses are different based on what you know about each–right? You think about what they might be facing. You put yourself in their shoes and wonder how they’re tackling the tuition or the gang activity or whatever would be your concern.
Or maybe you think in the other direction–about how fortunate they are to not have their fine arts program whittled away, or how lucky they are to have access to aftercare programs. The thing that most people don’t do is make it about them the way they do when they hear someone home schools. True, when someone hears about a family sending children to a notable private school–inevitably they cross paths with someone that blurts out “Oh I wish I could send my kids there but we’re not rich!” Most of those people follow up tat comment with something more meaningful. Not all people, of course, but most. Likewise, if someone’s in a crappy district, it’s not like you’re going to say “Oh, I could never live there!” I mean, there are definitely people out there who are that inconsiderate; but it’s not the majority.
None-the-less, that is the overwhelming response to homeschoolers: “I could never do that!” Although those making that statement think that we homeschoolers should take it as a compliment. We don’t. (again, see the above-referenced post for more info) So the recommendation is that you do the same thing with homeschoolers as you do for anyone else. Think about what THEY are doing and respond meaningfully. Think about how you’d respond to someone whose kids go to school in a place you know nothing about. What would you want to know or what would you say to make conversation?
Sometimes you don’t get forewarning about these conversations. You don’t think about what you’d say because you can’t possibly know all of the places in the world that a child could attend school. You’re immediately put on the spot when you hear them spew out the name of some educational facility you’ve never heard of. It’s the same with homeschooling, too, right? Or maybe you just say “Oh, I’m not familiar with that–what’s it like?”
Why not say THAT to a homeschooler?
Because really, unless you’ve done it–you’re NOT familiar with it. And if you HAVE done it, you’re unlikely to be familiar with the way THAT person is doing it–much the same as public schools, school districts and private schools vary. Let me give you a list of responses to help get your mind thinking in the right direction for build bridges rather than walls. Obviously, there are way, way, WAY more responses available than this. I’m just hoping that this set will get you on a track that leads to meaningful discussion.
“I’m not really familiar with homeschooling…”
“…what’s your favorite aspect of it?”
“…what do your days look like?”
“Are your kids involved in any enrichment activities where we might run into you?”
“What are they most interested in?”
“Does this area offer a lot of group activities specifically for homeschoolers?”
“What do you do on days that get off to a rough start?”
“What’s your favorite or least favorite part of it all?”
Another really important thing to know is that we often (but not always) know about the local schools, local resources, and cool stuff. Don’t assume that we do; but also–don’t assume that we don’t. Share what you know with us anyway! Likewise, we will share the stuff we’ve found with you! Many of us would even assume that you might find an activity or two worthy of keeping your kid home for a day. There is definitely stuff we DON’T know about–stuff that you may have learned just because your kid found out from some other kid we’re not friends with or through the school. I had no clue about xtramath.org or Kik Messenger (or it’s caveats) except from our public schooling friends.
Another thing that might surprise you is that a lot of us keep up on what’s happening in public education. Partly because a chunk of us are former teachers and care deeply about public education even if we’re not currently using (or working in) it. Some of us live in states where what happens to the schooled population affects them as homeschoolers (or there is concern about how it might affect them). I was at a block party in my new neighborhood and I think my new neighbors were slightly surprised to hear me speak about Core Curriculum like any public schooling parent. But many of us also know that our kids may be in the public education system at some point. Some are in delicate financial positions where a few unfortunate events could render us needing an income from the homeschooling parent–making them unavailable to homeschool the kids. Some have simply decided to give their kids a foundation at home at their own pace, giving more attention to their kids individual needs, and sending them back to school at a later age with better preparation for what awaits them. Parents do this for Kindergarten or first grade; but some wait until middle school or high school to re-enter. Aside from that, almost all of us know that public education is a service to our communities and to our future as a nation. We value it deeply and know it needs to address all of the children fairly–not just some of them.
There are DEFINITELY homeschool evangelists out there–the parents that would hear any complaint you have about your education choice and immediately try to push you into homeschooling. There are some who are not very diplomatic or considerate in how they articulate their reasoning for homeschooling in comparison to public schooling.
Please do not assume we are all like this.
I don’t assume that all public schooling parents feel like I took a teachers job or that ALL kids should be in school no matter what. Those parents exist. In large numbers (with lots to say about my child–who they know nothing about). But in fact, I don’t know many of these kinds of homeschoolers at all and I’m in an area where homeschooling is VERY common. Most of the homeschoolers I know are considerate people that realize this is a personal choice that differs by the family; and if you are willing to be open and honest with them, they are happy to be open and honest with you. I have public schooling friends that know they can vent to me and I will offer them suggestions for working within the school’s system rather than say “This is why we homeschool” or “Maybe you should homeschool”.
Likewise, I can usually gripe to them about something regarding my kids without them saying “Ugh… I don’t know why you don’t just put them in school already and let the professionals handle it.” Because neither of those responses is supportive; and rarely are either of those responses appropriate. If we could all feel like our choices would be respected, there would likely be a lot more communication going on. Possibly a lot more playdates.
Needless to say, a morning of scheduled schoolwork is bound to NOT go well in this house. Mama gets all panicky and goes into teacher/project manager mode rather than Mama mode. It’s like a flip of a switch. And then when BigGuy does anything other than sit at a desk and belt out work as if he were in a classroom, I lose it.
Suddenly, he is 20 years older and a bum or a prisoner or living with me for the rest of his life and I’m hearing everyone tell me all the things he could’ve been “if he’d have been in school”… as if this trajectory could be backed by evidence. And of course, if he enters now and fails miserably it will be because he needed to be in school earlier. Of course. Because ya know–it’s not like we had a reason to pull him out, people… right? People don’t see that. And those that do would say “But you could’ve put him back in before now.” No matter what parenting decision you make, it’s just going to be wrong.
Whatever. His complete lack of discipline or perseverance towards a goal (keep in mind that this was all his idea) make me LOSE. MY. SH!T. I know what makes a successful person and it’s the ability to face a difficulty and take it on. Even if you don’t overcome it, just having the ability to attempt getting through it is so huge. And he completely lacks that. And it’s so polar opposite to the person I am at my core that I cannot even understand how he will function in life. Ever.
BigGuy’s IQ puts him in the 99.9% percentile of human intelligence. This is beyond Mensa. There are organizations that I didn’t even know existed for this kind of intelligence. Sometimes, it’s hard to NOT see that he’s a bright kid. But he also has Asperger’s and sometimes the connections between work and reward/success or other relational connections are completely absent. I can’t bank on the neurotypical developmental trajectory that would say “He’ll get it someday… maybe at 22, but it will come” because for BigGuy, it truly may never come. When he was younger, the therapists were so lost because there was no consistent “currency” to work with him–no consistent motivator. There is no carrot you can dangle in front of him to bribe him; and nothing he loves enough to motivate him on his own. Truly. Now, at 10, there are definitely some motivators, but nothing that pushes him hard. Even his strongest interests do not push him to do simple things if he just doesn’t feel like doing them. So losing his Minecraft time is not enough to make him brush his teeth. I don’t think you can grasp the gravity of that statement. It will result in a one-hour meltdown with begging about his being willing to “do ANYthing” to get his Minecraft time, but the offer to let him brush his teeth to get his time back results in him running up the stairs and playing with a Lego or his stuffed Tepig or reading whatever text-based material is within view. And the reminder that this is what he needed to do to get his Minecraft time results in “OH YEAH!”, but no movement.
You cannot wrap your head around this. I know you can’t. And it’s not just frustrating–it’s scary.
I was so thankful to see Time put out an article that (at least a tiny bit) addresses this oxymoron. Even without Asperger’s at play. In their article “How To Make Your Kids Smarter: 10 Steps Backed By Science” they note that IQ is kind of worthless without self-discipline.
“Self-discipline predicted academic performance more robustly than did IQ. Self-discipline also predicted which students would improve their grades over the course of the school year, whereas IQ did not.… Self-discipline has a bigger effect on academic performance than does intellectual talent.”
How do you teach a kid to have self-discipline? Seriously? How do you instill perseverance? We are not indulgent parents and there is a good structure to how our house operates. We’re not helicopter parents nor permissive parents. We facilitate our kids making their own choices (and having to stand by them as long as the consequence was foreseeable and not excessively/downright cruel or harmful). Some kids are just not going to get it. Especially those with impaired relational skills (and “relational” doesn’t just mean “between people” it means “connecting less concrete things”).
I’ve watched other kids with these issues in the schools and I’m not going there. People like to tell me that I don’t know that MY kid will wind up like that, but ya know what? I’m not rolling the dice either. I’m watching a rather brilliant young man who is VERY similar to BigGuy pretty much fail out of high school for the exact same problems and a mother who has given up trying to find his currency. I’m thankful to be able to see how his life is unfolding and seeing how removing the things he lives for or holding them hostage are doing absolutely nothing to move him. Just like BigGuy. I feel like I can learn from this and feel confident that this is just not going to be the route.
But I don’t know what the route is yet for my guy. And part of me is heartbroken because I often wonder if the last 4-1/2 years of moving and my less-than-engaging/encouraging/supportive behavior have squashed any potential inspiration and motivation or willingness to chase after his interests with more fervor. I can’t think about it. That’s over. We were in survival mode. It happened and I can’t change it.
I just need to get back on my horse and leave it alone. I need to focus on Girly. I need to do more with her. If he doesn’t want to work, nobody’s going to make him. Not here and not at school. That Cell Biology lab motivated him and I just cannot find a place like that for him to be full-time. I ache for that for him. Explaining to him that doing this work would get him to such a place is too far out for him to grasp.
Maybe his sister surpassing his achievements will be the motivator. Because that kid’s going to knock it out of the park.
And really, if I go back and look at MY goals for my kids, I could give a rat’s ass about any of this crap. But trying to meet his needs as he has explained them has been rough and it means doing this kind of crap. Maybe I just need to change my attitude about it. I don’t know. I’m having “a day”. And I love him so much. I just want to meet his needs. And hers.
I actually like this week as the last of my Facebook friends list sends their kids back to school. Here in the Midwest, that happened last week and the week before. But back on the East Coast, that happens this week. Above is my “back to school pics”. A friend pointed out the quintessential homeschool part: bare feet.
It’s not that I love the back to school pics. I mean, I enjoy seeing their kids and all–but I see them in pics all the time. It’s interesting to see what they’re wearing, but it’s not the “milestone picture” for me that it is for them. What I enjoy is knowing that NOW all of the “I can’t wait to ship them off” posts are close to an end. At least until winter break.
Thankfully, I have more than one friend on my Facebook list that actually mourns the back-to-school departure of their children. I love them. I love them for standing up and saying “I love my kids and I will miss them all day” against a cultural tide of parents singing about it being the most wonderful time of the year and cartoons of blissful parents literally dragging unwilling kids to school. Oh my God… WHAT have we become?
People will say “We’re only joking” but it’s not a joke. Truth lies in jest. These parents are as bored as their children. They are worn out of the daily struggles and arguments that often take place between parents and children. They are relieved to minimize those interactions. They are especially relieved to know that someone else will impart the knowledge those kids need to get those kids out of their parents houses… quickly and efficiently with at least an average level of self-supporting success.
Some people will even say “My kids are as thrilled to be away from me as I am of them–they want to go back to school!” Really? And what kind of statement is that making about your relationship with your children? Or about how they feel knowing that you’re all that happy to shoo them off? Why WOULD they want to stay with you knowing you feel that way?
Long ago and far away, I was the parent with a child that I NEEDED to go to school because truly–the idea of dealing with him all day was a prospect I just could not handle. I was in survival mode every minute that I was in his presence. I was miserable and I was struggling. I never felt like I knew how to make it right–no matter how many books or blog entries I read. This photo pretty much sums up my days with my son… and this is the lightest of it (which is why I COULD capture it on film):
BigGuy’s face: age 2-6
It was a daily exercise in knowing how badly I was failing at parenting and having that very in my face. I hated everything about life back then. I woke up with dread about what the day would bring. I worried about what might get broken, how much yelling might occur, if there might be physical interactions, if my son would tantrum for 45 minutes straight at some point, hoping that if he did–it would be in our house, how many looks I would get from people around us who would instantly judge me as a bad parent… the list goes on.
His going to preschool filled so many voids for me. I felt like sending him there might have been the only thing I was doing right for his future because they would at least be able to educate him to be a productive human being. I also felt like sending him there made me a better mother because I got a break from feeling so completely worthless that it kept me alive. During that time, I could do other things that validated my worth–even if that was just a matter of cleaning the dishes and doing some laundry. Low-hanging fruits that were signs that I was capable of doing SOMEthing right.
It didn’t change the problems. It just gave me a much-needed break from them.
We had gone through two years of intensive therapies with our son. Fourteen hours/week (we were offered 20/week and declined out of sheer exhaustion and overwhelm). Research, interventions (both therapeutic and nutritional), every moment being a “teachable moment”. It was exhausting. It was beyond most parents challenges of finding things for a kid to do because they’re bored. I was engaged with my son at almost all times for a long time… and not in a loving parent way as much as a therapist/practitioner way. He didn’t see me as a parent. He didn’t connect with people really (at that time). And we didn’t grow into a family.
I loved my son, but the situation was just a nightmare. I was doing what I could. Then it all changed.
In a nutshell, we found out that he was being mistreated/mishandled at his preschool in ways we really didn’t know about. We knew he was “having bad days” but we had no idea what the school’s definition of that was. This resulted in mutually agreeing to end a private school contract midway through the school year (for the familiar, you can see how bad it was). We sent him to a school with a different pedagogy for the second half of the year and that went better but not WELL. He was our only child at the time and I loved him so deeply.
When it came time for Kindergarten, the school situation was just NOT a good fit. You find that schools do this with kids in the spectrum: put them several levels below their academic capabilities for the sake of them gaining other “skills” like relational skills or following directions (which would be easier if they don’t ALSO have to figure out how to do what they’re being instructed to learn). It was horrible. And I felt it was a recipe for behavioral disaster beyond what we were already dealing with. Ultimately, a teacher I respected told us that we should just keep him home for his Kindergarten year.
I wanted to cry.
But I did it.
You hear over and over from homeschool parents about the profound behavior and relationship changes that come with homeschooling. It sounds too good to be true–so good that you insist (at least in your head) that they could not possibly be dealing with the issues you’re dealing with. But many of them are dealing with worse.
And you don’t have to homeschool to change this relationship. But you DO have to take an active interest in engaging with your kids. That doesn’t mean being in the same room with them. Lots of parents say that they’re “with their kids all the time”. Sorry, being in the same room as them does not equate to being ENGAGED with them. I don’t mean to say you should be their buddy. But it does mean taking an interest in them from THEIR perspective. It means setting aside your agenda for them and really HEARING them without recourse about what you’re hearing. It means spending one-on-one time with each of your kids–even if it’s just a dedicated 15 minutes each week (preferably each day) that they can bank on having with you to talk about whatever THEY want to talk about and you being actively interested in hearing them 100%. It means hearing about Minecraft and at least pretending to follow along sometimes. It means trying really hard not to say “No” unless you really have to. It means finding opportunities for them to pursue their interests (and not being angry at your wasted efforts if they don’t want to do it). It means respecting their input on what things they want to take on, and what things they feel they need to quit. It means giving them a hug when they’re crying before lacing into the reprimand. It means a lot of putting aside how we culturally handle our kids and seeing our kids and their tender hearts first. It means understanding that they generally only operate out of love or fear–and trying to get to the heart of which it is, and addressing THAT rather than how that came out/manifested.
Connecting.
It doesn’t matter how you school your kids. But your relationship with them or their behavior shouldn’t be the reason you don’t homeschool. And sending them outside of the home to school doesn’t equate to offloading the work or getting these behavior or relational issues resolved. They’re not in your face as much and it’s easy to let the goal of correction slip off your radar. But make it a goal.
Life changes when you homeschool. All of your life. It’s different from the mainstream in many ways; but in many ways that you grow to be thankful for. Especially where it concerns the bond between you and your child.
Me and my BigGuy after Girly has gone to bed. We were reading catalogs. He didn’t even care–he just wanted to be with me doing something together at a time he’s usually supposed to be in bed.
Heaven help me… Honest to God, I truly do not make any judgment of someone who doesn’t wish to homeschool. Seriously. But when parents hear that I homeschool, they seem compelled to give me their “excuse” for why they “can’t” homeschool.
Listen, mama–you don’t need to create an excuse for me. If you’re happy with your current situation, there’s really no need to change it. I see the value in “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.”
The reality is this: if you actually thought homeschooling was the better alternative for your child, you would find the ways to get around whatever excuse you’re about to spew out to me. But the fact is that you simply don’t want to homeschool your child enough to dig any deeper into it.
And that’s totally fine! AND…
YOU DON’T NEED TO SAY ANYTHING TO ME ABOUT YOUR DECISION NOT TO HOMESCHOOL!
I mean, when I find out that your kid goes to public or private school, I don’t feel compelled to tell you why my kid doesn’t go there. I also don’t assume that you are laying judgment on me for not taking your family’s path. I’m sure you feel that your education choices for your child are optimal (for your family at least–but you might actually think it’s ideal for all kids because there are parents that think like this for all kinds of things).
What’s worse is that for every excuse you can give me that is not REALLY the reason you’re not homeschooling, I have a response that will refute that excuse.
“My kid is too social,”… really? Meet my 10yo who has been known to spend THIR. TEEN. HOURS with the dozen of kids on our former block only to come in and cry that he “barely” got to be with his friends. Trust me–I “get” having an uber social kid.
“My kid already knows more than me, I wouldn’t be able to teach him/her.” Again, meet my 10yo. Today, someone posted this picture and I reposted it on Facebook:
The subsequent post went like this:
Honestly–I don’t even know if what he wrote is correct. But really, he’s 10. He has time to correct it. And I don’t really question it because he belted out such high marks on his biology exam. Maybe he’s wrong, but the odds are in his favor. Needless to say: my kid knows more than me about things. I don’t have to know things. I facilitate learning, I don’t disseminate information. And good teachers usually DON’T spew the information into their students heads.
Then there’s the “I can’t handle my kids for the short time they’re home” or “I can’t spend 6 hours/day at the table with them when I can’t handle an hour of homework”… I refuted both of those yesterday. I think I most appreciate the friend of mine that honestly believed that she couldn’t homeschool her child because she couldn’t manage that child’s behavior–and she wasn’t telling me this as a means of filling the space. I asked her if she had problems when her child was home and she said she did. I pointed out that school really wasn’t FIXING the behavior problems–it was giving her a break from them. She thought about it and (with some degree of melancholy) agreed that this was the case. And I appreciated her willingness to be honest about it.
Here’s a word of advice: find a new way to respond when you hear someone homeschools. It’s so popular nowadays, you’re going to run into this again–probably soon. Think of something OTHER than “I could never do that”. I mean, how would YOU feel if you told me your kid went to public school and I said “I could never do that” and rattled off reasons like “My kid is too social to be stuck in a classroom” or “I want my kid to go to a good school” or “I love my 5yo too much to be away from her all day”.
Think about what you DON’T mind people saying to you when you tell them where your kid is educated… and use that.
Educated Adventures 