While nobody has yet to say this to me, this is the look on some faces when I tell them that we’re seriously considering homeschooling our boys. And definitely doing so for Charlie’s kindergarten year. And I want to scream, “YES! I must be going crazy!” because so often I feel that way, too, even though I can just as easily feel that people are nuts to put their kids into the current system. I can talk myself into and out of homeschooling about as quickly as I can eat a truffle.
Obviously, no one can really predict what will happen year to year, but I have the strong sense that once we’ve jumped the monumental first hurdle of not registering for public school and begun our first projects we won’t be turning back. This may seem like a pretty brazen or extremely naive thing to say, but I have a few reasons that make it somewhat educated. I have yet to meet a single homeschooled child or homeschooling parent who has regretted their choice. I’m sure they’re out there, but I don’t think they’re anywhere close to the majority. Every parent I’ve talked to immediately lights up with how amazing it has been for their entire family, not just the kids. It’s a little bit like talking to a newly engaged twenty-year-old: you’re happy for them but their giddiness and tremendous energy also makes you feel like you drank decaf. You also can’t help but wonder if they’re overcompensating for the struggles by being overly enthusiastic.
There’s also my heart. I think I know to my core (when I am still and not scared and trusting that we’ll all be ok) that it is best for our oldest and probably will be best for our youngest, too. This could change, but as long as I feel that way, I can’t ignore it. I’ve tried really hard and it keeps coming back. We want our boys to be able to pursue their passions with abandon. If they want to dig in the dirt for an hour, they can. If they want to paint all day, they can. If they want to do written-based work in the car on a trip to the mountains, followed by a hike, so be it. We want them to thoroughly enjoy learning. We want our life to be an education and we want it to be a lot of fun. And there are many more reasons backed up by reading we’ve done–I’ll share those another time.
But it is so crazy! I KNOW! I get scared. Every time someone talks about our neighborhood school positively, I doubt our choice. I freak out a little bit every time I meet a weird homeschooler. We all know them–though I wonder if we’d all be weird if we weren’t trying to shape ourselves to fit in at school because we would be more unique, more ourselves. I wonder if we’ll find a community of homeschoolers that fits us. I wonder if I’ll be lonely and missing my friends with children in public schools. I wonder if we’ll all feel left out from school’s big events.
Despite all those doubts and some yet listed, kindergarten still feels like a no-brainer. Our neighborhood school requires full-day K and you have to pay a hefty monthly tuition to compensate for the lack of full-day funding. And since the school has chosen to focus on providing language immersion and academics, there is not a single dedicated art teacher for any form of art. It is totally up to the classroom teacher to provide music, visual arts, theatre, dance or anything else. I’m sure the teachers do their best to fit these in when possible, but these are Charlie’s passions and we don’t think a full day of dealing with 27+ other classmates and their behaviors while listening to and completing academic lessons he already knows is worth the second language exposure. Especially at the cost of missing the chance to pursue his passions and have some afternoon rest before a group activity. We could supplement art in the afternoons, but I am really wary of over-scheduling the boys and know he also wants to play soccer, pursue music and have downtime. Charlie still sleeps 12 hours a night and definitely needs it. Packing in activities at the cost of play time, family time and sleep has no appeal to me right now.
So, we’re going to take it year by year. Kindergarten will be a great low pressure chance to see how we like home-based education. We will get to know a few local homeschooling groups (Seattle is overflowing with opportunity in this regard), Charlie will likely continue with the Seattle Children’s Theatre next year and his group activities beyond that will come from sports, church, playdates, and anything else that float his boat. He’s already got the K-level academic basics down, so continuing to build his literacy skills, math knowledge, and general world knowledge will be a continuation of how we already function.
We have not run into this decision blindly. Who the heck would do that? Why would a stay at home mom give up the potential for six hours of gardening, cooking, exercising, meeting friends and running errands by herself, uninterrupted?!? This choice does not come easy. In fact, I spent a good year incredibly torn because I felt homeschooling would be the best education for our boys but not if my heart wasn’t in it. I didn’t feel up to it and I was concerned I was going to be angry and eventually bitter. So, late last summer we committed ourselves to the idea of public school, allowing cognitive dissonance to do its work and make us feel fine about our choice. “It’s a bilingual school! It’s going to be a brand new building! Everyone we meet there is happy! Our boys will have more fun!” There’s a lot you can tell yourself to make it feel alright and I eventually forgot about homeschooling and embraced the idea of being an involved public school volunteer.
With the passing of a few months, life got much easier for us. Harry had a steady income. Mr. Toddler was safer, more independent, and didn’t require constant attention. The boys started to play together long enough that I could bake or cook while they were awake without fear of setting the house on fire. I had an outlet for regular exercise while they were cared for and life was much, much better. I was really enjoying my role.
So, into that environment walked my brother, the sailor, spending time unwinding with us after a few months at sea. He is one of several incredibly bright people I know who were failed by the public school system. Bored to death, needing creative outlets, and happier learning from a book than from teachers (I’d bet he had more book smarts than most of his teachers), he skipped high school classes to sit in the public library and read. He got kicked out of high school and later passed the GED with a nearly perfect score (without studying, of course). He’s a voracious reader to this day. Within a few nights of staying with us, he told us about an article he read at sea about a few homeschooler’s experiences while we were eating dinner. The minute he started talking I got a little anxious, sipped on my red wine a little faster. I had grown accustomed to the idea of having time to myself once Miles started preschool, of participating in Charlie’s classroom as a happy volunteer, of having instant community from his classroom peers and more friends for him. But, he got me thinking again. Harry didn’t need any convincing. He had always liked the homeschooling idea but also supported my decision to not do it if I wasn’t passionate about it since I would be doing the bulk of the work.
I was scared, I wanted to fight it, but I eventually started believing that I might really enjoy it. Maybe I was actually in a spot to thrive in the role. Our family has a pretty amazing setup for it right now. Harry works from home and has some flexibility in schedule. He often has jobs that he can do from anywhere there’s an internet connection. So, I began dreaming. What about January in Florida, escaping Seattle’s nasty rain, enjoying sunshine and beach, and learning from Harry’s mom’s house? What about June in Colorado, enjoying a longer summer than Seattle provides and spending time with all our family there? And dare I really dream, what about a year or two in Europe? Introducing our kids to all my Dutch friends from my exchange student year, visiting other friends scattered around the continent? These make my heart jump with delight. And yet I fear holding onto them too tightly because they might not happen.
Those dreams may not ever be the reality of our homeschooling. Harry’s job could change and he could be gone from our home 10 hours a day in a full-time job with very little flexibility. That may change my mind altogether about this endeavor. More likely, though, is that our reality may be some typical “schoolwork” / paperwork and lots of projects, reading, cooking, gardening, beach trips, library visits,volunteering, hikes, walks through the zoo, classes (there is an astounding number of really cool extracurricular activities for homeschooling kids in the city) and maybe a homeschool co-op for some academics.
I have also had the pleasure of working closely and being friends with someone who homeschooled her two boys, now in college, and saw the incredible projects they achieved, the quality of their writing, the passion they maintained for interests that likely would’ve been squashed by peers in public schools. She owns a business, her husband worked contracts and the two of them pieced it together to handle their boys’ learning. I have other friends who grew up spending hours every day just playing with their siblings because they completed their “work” in a few hours. Some completed lots of workbooks without much adult interaction, others completed amazing projects that were very dynamic. You don’t have to guess what we’ll be doing.
But doubt creeps in. I ask myself if I’m crazy. I hear that a dear friend’s son, who is also one of Charlie’s best buddies, will be moving into our school zone and I immediately want to enroll Charlie, too. But I think about it and know that the move feels better for me than for Charlie. I am more worried about my loneliness than the boys being socially isolated. I think to my childhood and the best times I had with friends. All were after school, either in each others’ homes or in extracurricular activities. These things will be easy to work in, especially when my boys are not worn out from a day of school and don’t have homework. I think about how many close friends I had that I really delighted in and know we only need a handful of great companions for the boys to be in quality relationships.
So, consider this my announcement of yet another unusual step by our family. I am comforted deeply that all our past choices that felt stupid, nutty or risky have all been worth it. I think this will be the case again but I can’t always walk boldly in that space. I try to keep my eye on the beauty that will be found in simplicity, the fun that will be had, the passions that will be allowed to fully blossom, the relationships that will be deep and rich. If you catch me forgetting these things, I would love a nudge in that direction. And if you know of fantastic resources, I am always happy to add them to our ever-growing pile. Thank you for supporting us in our many nontraditional ways, dear friends and family!
