I went to the Minnesota Catholic homeschool conference accompanied by my friend Kim. Her oldest is only four, and she's contemplating homeschooling, but as her family's facing a number of changes in the next year — including a move to Iowa — that's still quite up in the air. Anyway, because I was with her, I chose to skip some of the more nitty-gritty detail-oriented workshops (e.g., "Homeschooling At The Library") and instead attended a couple more general sessions: "Homeschooling Beginnings" and a panel discussion called "Let's Get Real," in which a group of mothers were to answer some questions about what homeschooling's really like.
I am so glad I did. Especially the panel discussion. The presenter, Anne Gross, had prepared the panelists not so much with practical-side questions about what they do each day — you know, "What math curriculum did you choose and why" or "How much time do you spend studying each day" or "What style of schooling do you follow" or "Do you have a school room set up" as with introspective questions that led them to tell stories about their families. Questions like "What is the name of your homeschool and why did you choose it?" Or "Describe a recent joy you experienced." Or "What have your children taught YOU lately?" Or "What's the most important piece of advice you can give?"
In answering those questions, they told us so much. A woman described how she asked her husband, so that he would have more "ownership" of their schooling, to prayerfully decide on a name for the homeschool, and she told us the reasons he gave her for choosing what he did. Another was trying to tell how "in tune" family members remain with one another, and told that when pregnant, she'd feared she was losing the baby, and though her children hadn't been told of the crisis, they begged to be allowed to ask their friends at church to pray for their family that Sunday. Two were former schoolteachers and both described how they came to realize that trying to emulate school at home wasn't feeding their families. Two had already given up once, put the kids back in school, seen what it did to their family lives, and restarted homeschooling with new confidence. One mother's advice was to avoid signing kids up for activities that break up the family: "If they're playing soccer, you'll have different kids on different fields and you'll go crazy. Go skiing together. Play tennis. Do things that keep you together." Another: "You have to take care of mom. Make sure she gets what she needs so that she can do it for the long haul. And if you feel like you need professional help, get it." All emphasized right priorities: teach your children to be good people, maintain a healthy family life, and "the academics will come."
Most of us find ourselves in conversations with people who are curious about homeschooling. Rarely do I meet people who are actively hostile; there's a lot more of the "Well, I know I could never do that" kind of comments. Those in turn come in two types: "I would never want to spend that much time with my children" and "I don't think I'd be able to teach them as well as a trained teacher."
I used to like to emphasize that it's motivation, not training or even knowledge that makes the difference, that every parent wants their child to do well, wants it for the child more than any teacher ever will, and that we'll move heaven and earth to get kids what they need. Whether it's learning algebra one step ahead of a child, or hiring somebody else to teach them. I've decided to stop emphasizing that. Not that it's not a good argument, but I'm not the right person to make it. After I explain that many parents learn as they go, my interlocutor — if she doesn't know me already — always looks at me suspiciously and asks, "Well, what's your academic background?" And then I have to admit that I studied engineering, and even if I don't admit to the PhD, the response is, "Well, there you go. Of course YOU didn't have any trouble. Now ME, I could never do that." (Never mind that if my kid someday puts up a real fight against learning algebra, I'm going to have as much trouble or more teaching them as anybody else.)
So now when people ask me about homeschooling, I tell about how our family life runs. How the kids are each others' best friends, and how they enjoy playing with kids of all ages, with never any disdain for the younger ones. About family gym night and how the boys and I have all taken swimming lessons together. How we can go on vacations whenever we want, not just on school breaks. How we can, and do, stay up late to get those bedtime stories in, never worrying that the kids will be too tired for school in the morning. How the children learn to do chores by my side every day, because I've got the time to teach them and to make sure they do them. How we have so much time together to really be the family that we are and to really know each other.
You know what? People respond to that. Sometimes their face changes right in front of me and I can see a real longing appear. Although some shake it off and protect themselves — they crack a joke that amounts to, "Well, my kids and I don't like each other enough for that to be any fun." And what do you say to that? I'm sorry. As for me, I usually say that spending lots of time together changes the relationship in surprising ways.
I'm glad I got to hear the stories instead of the tips and tricks. Some tips work and some tips don't, but stories stick. They'll go on inspiring me for a long time.
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