"My cousin, Leslie," I blurt breathlessly, winded from trying to keep up with a bicycle.
She wrinkles her nose and responds, "Your cousin was your best friend? Did you have friends who weren't part of your family?" I sense her concern that her mom merely survived childhood as a lovable loser who could only find friendly companionship among those obligated to love me.
"Yes," I manage. "I....also....had...a best friend....named....Hallie...in school." Each word spoken between gulps of air.
A and I make it to the last mile of our four mile loop. "Mom, can we sit on that bench for a moment?" She nods her head toward a worn, wooden park bench, aged by the rain and sun. "Sure," I respond casually fighting the urge to shout, "Yes! For the love, yes!" After three miles of sprinting behind a bicycle, I can no longer feel my toes or the tips of my fingers. Instead, I say, "we can work on multiplication and spelling." She removes her bike helmet, checks for bugs, then sits. I join her. "Wow! Did you feel the bench bend when you sat? I hope it can hold us." Apparently, I need to participate in more sprinting. I laugh at her candor, clearly inherited that from her father. We review our 2s through 4s and her spelling words from the last few weeks. A decides to run a loop on the small path to help her think of the answers. I ask a question, she runs and returns with the correct answer. This continues until she tires.
When she begins to ask a question unrelated to math or spelling every time I attempt to recap a phonics rule, I realize she's had enough, so we begin to chat. A grabs my hand as she talks, signaling that though she's grown three inches in a year and has begun to use phrases like "boyfriend", that she is still my little girl. I watch her closely as she talks, her innocent blue eyes mirroring the crystal sky, a smattering of freckles dotting her nose and cheeks. The frenetic pressure of a schedule eludes us, as we relax beneath a grove of towering pines and sycamores and watch a line of ants carry their treasures across the path. I dazzle A with my knowledge of the tiny insects, "I think ants can carry like 50 times their weight or something crazy like that. What do you say we look it up when we get home?" And birds, "What kind of bird is that, Mommy?" "Um, a little one. It's not a robin, cardinal or blue jay. We'll get a book on birds at the library and maybe set up a bird feeder. That would be fun!"
Thirty minutes pass before we both agree it's time to finish our workout. Plus, the feeling has returned to my hands and feet, so it is probably also now safe for me to run again. I relieve the bench of its burden and make my way over to help A fasten her helmet. Part of me wants to freeze this moment forever, yet the other part can't wait to watch my amazing girl grow into a young woman. We pick up our pace and sprint back to the car. "Mommy?" "Yes, sweetheart." "I love you." "I love you, too, Punky."
A has the freedom not only to understand the world but also to discover it. To me that is worth all the sacrifices and frustrations that inevitably accompany homeschooling. Homeschooling isn't for everyone; it really isn't. But, it's for my family and fits us like that favorite black dress that works for every occasion. It provides unassuming moments like a simple run alongside my children as they bike. Here, I unearth the true treasure that homeschooling gives. It's these moments stolen from the cultural demands to maintain a ridiculously harried schedule that drive us to demand a simpler lifestyle. Sure, it sometimes requires hours of planning, reading, and studying to stay one step ahead; it's rearranging my life and being brave enough to start my own business. It isn't easy, but to our family, this is worth every moment that leaves us questioning our sanity. A simple bike ride where my daughter reveals her heart and easily shares her soul, a morning where I'm present, not buffeted by alarms, traffic, and the other strictures of modern society, a desire to live more intentionally: this is why I home school.
7 comments:
Its great that you are involved with your children to the extent that you are. I think every parent should be involved. But your post makes it seem like parents that send their kids to school arent involved with their kids learning, which is simply not the case. If you make a trip to your local public school on any random Tuesday, you will find that the school is not only buzzing with engaged youngsters, but its also buzzing with involved parents. Parents who are very in tune with their childs education. Parents that know their children's teachers very well (as neighbors, as friends, as PTA colleagues). You will find gymnasiums full of parents and grandparents with video cameras and iphones rolling, watching their child play the xylaphone for the spring musical.
Kids class rooms these days are wonderful places. Places where a second grader can learn how to make a video blog. Places where kids can spread out and learn in their own comfort zone, whether or not its at their desk, in a bean bag chair or laying on the floor. Schools are places where 2nd grade kids come together to do group projects, to learn about the atmospheric make up of Mars and Jupiter. They are places with structure and ciriculum, where enough topics are introduced within a day to peak a childs curiousity, but enough free time for kids to explore deeper in to topics that interest them. A teacher talks about the first mission to the moon, the child is guided with an ipad to find a video documentary on the moon landing. Schools are also places where lifelong friendships are built. They are places where compromise is learned and children learn that they all have differences and yet they know they can work through them. Schools are also places where children learn religion. But the biggest religious lesson they learn is that people may worship different than you, and that's ok.
I understand your desire and the appreciation you have for homeschooling your kids. But lets be careful that we dont condescend to parents that send their kids to school. Parents that send their kids to school are often involved just as much, if not more than you are. Parents of school kids realize the learning doesnt stop when carpool picks the kids up in the afternoon. Most parents, especially in your community, have those same conversations about birds, about bugs, and whatever other wonders cross their minds. Most parents sit along side their children while they do homework, using anything from thumb-tacs to skittles to teach math, using chessboards to teach history, and using whatever they can find around the house to teach science.
I, like you, cherish every moment I spend with my children. I am always amazed at the questions they ask me, the thoughts they come up with, the pictures they draw and gthe stories they tell. But I am blessed to live in a community where I know I can send my child to a school that is safe, to a teacher that is experienced, that has a high standard that the kids are held to. I am blessed to be able to spend time with my kids, to be involved, not only in their education, but also in their extracurricular activities. I love the fact that my children are learning their independence, developing the ability to judge character, to build friendships with those that have like values, and learn how to handle those that dont.
Its awesome that you get to spend so much time with your children though homeschooling. But lets not act like school parents do anything less.
Thank you for your comment. It certainly was not my intention to be condescending. I don't think I implied that public school parents love their children or care about their children's education any less. This was simply a reflection on why my family and I choose to home school. If anything, I want parents to feel empowered to choose what form of education they find best for their individual family. I taught in the public schools and continue to work in various roles with public and private schools. I am for choice and parental empowerment in education. This was meant to inspire someone who might be considering the possibility of homeschooling but maybe felt ill-equipped. I also acknowledged that homeschooling isn't for everyone. I did not mean to imply that my way is superior but to explain that this is why I love our choice so much. I apologize if I offended you and appreciate your feedback.
First of all, what a beautiful description of the scene! I felt as if I was there with you!
I am a fifth grade teacher in a public school, and I must say you did a wonderful job expressing your love of your family and of homeschooling! Homeschooling does afford a true IEP(Individualized Education Plan)! I struggle daily to motivate children in my classroom to learn about things that neither interests them nor will they use in their daily life. Of course there are concepts that everyone must learn; however, having the ability to allow children to choose to learn would be awesome!
Your post described a wonderful scene and passion that you have without being judgmental :) I loved that you never once mentioned the differences in a homeschool parent and public school parent! Both work so hard! You did a wonderful job showing the differences between the atmosphere of homeschooling and public school. I have taught in four different school systems in Alabama and have rarely seen ALL students engaged, on task, and invested in their own learning. Even as a public school teacher this makes me want to consider homeschooling.
You have edited your blog post since my initial comments, removing or changing the statements that drew my ire. I absolutely respect your decision to homeschool and can appreciate all the circumstances that led to your decision. My comments were based on your original post and the mischaracterization regarding conventional schools. The statement you made about kids being "confined" in a classroom, the implication that school kids dont have the opportunity to "play" or have hands on learning, and the statement that parents barely know the teachers they leave their kids with are all gross misrepresentations of what truly occurs in conventional schools. I believe that you are and will continue to be an inspiration for parents that are considering the decision to homeschool. I also believe you can do this without mischaracterizing what goes on in convetional schools. Speak fondly of your journey. Refrain from speaking poorly on the journey that so many others are on.
I realized that confined was harsh, so I edited it to better represent what happens. I really took your comments to heart and truly appreciated your feedback. I really mean that. I believe constructive criticism makes us better. Please continue to read and express your thoughts.
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