Why We Began Homeschooling by Christine Guest
I love DIY projects, so when I first heard about homeschooling (on a
1987 TV news program about an island in Maine too far away from the
mainland school) I thought it was cool. While my public school was
important, most of the ideas that stuck with me came from dinner
conversations with my parents. Dad would show me the physics of bicycle
repair, Mom put books on reserve at the library whenever I showed an
interest in anything. (This was when you filled out a post card to put
a book on interlibrary loan, and it took weeks to hear back about it.)
When my now-husband's little brothers were lost in a large classroom and
not learning to read, my now Mother-in-law started emergency
homeschool. I thought that was the approved method; try public school
to “support the community,” but keep your options open if someone wasn't
learning something.
In the mean time, I met more and more homeschoolers through church, and
out and about in town. Some were traveling internationally, some were
military, some didn't want to bother with public school at all. I heard
about Charlotte Mason and unschooling, and started reading library books
on education. There were so many models and methods, I was confused,
but enthusiastic.
Somehow, just because I was reading and thinking about homeschool; my
thoughts did not find their way into my husband's head. One night, he
surprised me with a long discussion about his concerns; I am ditsy with
paperwork, would I land us in trouble with social services? And what did
I know about education, I'd studied chemistry, not child development.
(He remembers this conversation much differently than I do. Take the
emotional panic down about 80%).
Well, he is an engineer, and worst case scenarios are part of what he
does to keep the rest of us safe. I hired a babysitter, and came to his
work to use the internet (the library was slow and we weren't on-line at
home yet.) I looked up and printed Massachusetts case law. I asked
church friends about HSLDA and why Home Education Magazine seemed iffy
about them. My friends from church invited me to support group parties,
park days and field trips. We didn't exactly click with everyone we
met, but it was interesting.
Finally the night of the local kindergarten orientation arrived (we
weren't notified by the town, it was more word of mouth. Strike one for
the school system.) I'm not sure if I did have a completely open mind
to the process, I did want to homeschool; but I sure didn't want to do
it without my husband's enthusiastic support, and I didn't want to do it
because some folks think homeschooling is the only way responsible
parents see to their children's education. It isn't.
I was delighted to meet the other parents at my table, especially the
Nigerian doctor and Pakistani post doc. I wondered if the rest of the
kindergarten parent cohort would be international and hyper-educated.
I glanced through the thick packet of papers at my place, the “describe
your child” page had 20 adjectives, all ones I recognized from the ADHD
description, none positive. They wanted me to label my kid before he
even got to class? Some of the adjectives did fit my son sometimes –
but only in certain settings. None of those particular traits had
bothered me as much as what my husband calls, “Learning to speak Boy.”
If I asked my son to please set the table (trying to model a polite
method of speech) he would continue to build with Lego, thinking I had
made an optional suggestion. If I said, “Set the table now,” he would
set the table. I didn't like sounding like a drill sergeant, but
clarity was vital. The checklist of difficult behaviors did not mention
“only obeys direct instruction.” so I set the list aside, I'd ponder it
later.
The principal walked to the podium. “Are we ready to begin?”
Strike two for the school system. If her indirect crowd control method
was also used by the teachers, my son would be in trouble all the time
for non-compliance.
The principal began to read the entire handout packet aloud, because
“there are so many languages present.” Her tone of voice struck both my
husband and I as condescending. True there were a lot of languages
present (mostly spoken by professionals.) This went way beyond strike
three. What sort of dysfunctional school treats parents with disrespect
before they have even met them personally?
After detailed instructions about busing (2 hours a day, they preferred
it to us dropping the children off or walking them to school.) She
continued with her expectations: the children would not have any naps,
recess or snack, they needed to get ready for standardized testing.
They should already know their alphabet, their numbers, how to dress
themselves, how to behave in class and how to tie their shoes; because
there wasn't any time for any of that in class, they needed to get ready
for standardized testing.
These expectations seemed appropriate for robots, not 5 year olds.
Perhaps the students were 'getting ready for standardized testing' in an
age appropriate way, but it didn't sound like it to me from her
description.
One of the post docs raised his hand, “What methods are you using to
teach the children?” She continued with busing and forms so the
child's sitter could meet the child at the bus. Another parent raised
his hand to re-iterate the curriculum question. She said we could see
all the sorts of work the children would do after the meeting when we
looked at the classrooms and saw the bulletin boards.
But as we left the building, the classrooms were dark and their doors
were locked.
My husband whispered in my ear, “OK, you can homeschool.”
Christine Guest blogs at www.ourcurioushome.net
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