Not-Homeschooling 101

Knowing that our Adventures in Homeschooling have recently taken a detour (i.e., our two oldest are attending the local public school this year), Rebekah sent me this link, which instantly became my new favorite blog post on homeschooling.

Why? Just because someone else was “dropping out of home school?” No. Because Simcha Fisher wrote it so…freely. Because it is so matter-of-fact. Because it’s real, and it’s funny. But above all, because it feels almost entirely devoid of the sometimes-crushing guilt too often associated with homeschooling and/or not-homeschooling.

So much of homeschooling talk is so…ultimate. Final. Decided. Case closed. Homeschool or bust (even if it turns out to be homeschool and bust). We attended a statewide homeschooling conference a couple years ago, and I’m really glad that we did. We came home newly inspired, with tons of ideas and resources and encouragement. We crossed paths with some really wonderful people, and also with some people who are really militant about homeschooling (those categories of course not being mutually exclusive :D).

We’ve never been terribly militant about homeschooling. (Our charity of speech in this regard was learned partly of necessity, as a rare homeschooling/pastor’s family in small towns in which schools and teachers comprise important parts of community and parish.) Are there a lot of things that are ideal about homeschooling? Yes. Is homeschooling The Ideal? Perhaps--but our world isn’t exactly idyllic, and I’d have to put so many qualifying and explanatory asterisks after “Ideal” that the word would become, for all practical purposes, devoid of meaning.

Was sending our kids to school an easy decision? No. Heck no. But it could have been a lot easier, had I allowed myself, in the throes of the “gut-wrenching decision” (aptly described by Fisher in another hilariously true article that Monique recently sent me), to accept three simple truths: We began homeschooling because it was the best thing for our kid(s) and our family in that town at that point in our lives. Now we’re sending two kids to the community school just down the road because it’s the best thing for our kids and our family in this town at this point in our lives. Furthermore, should any of those factors change, this decision is immediately reversible.

Those statements sound so much simpler than the hopes and fears and prayers that cluttered (and to some extent still clutter) the mental space occupied by this decision. But that’s the honest distilled truth of our present situation, whether I like it or no. As Fisher wrote elsewhere,“The best advice I got about homeschooling? Do it one year at a time.” And, I would add, evaluate it one kid at a time. Boy, do I wish that more people on both sides of the homeschooling fence, even public school teachers, even people at homeschooling conferences, were wise and brave and kind enough to give and/or heed that advice. While I might still secretly envy stalwart homeschoolers’ twelve-year master plan, I must live in the reality of my family—these children, in this place, at this time.    

Whether we’re back at homeschooling in a year or three years or never, I pray that I will become wiser and braver and kinder all the while—confident (but not militant) about the educational choices we make for each of our children. And above all, confident in the mercy that covers my sinful shortcomings and in the grace that blesses my children in spite of my mistakes.

Room mothering: F+

I am the selfish, neglectful, worldly Concordian Sister who is sending her child to first grade this week (jk! I know not a soul thinks that ;) ). This has not really been a choice for us*. If we are still here in eight years when, DV, our oldest child finishes at this school (which I hope we will be), we will have no choice then but to homeschool.

Given this situation, I labor not to fret over a situation which offers me, for all practical purposes since none of our children appear at this time to be "hard cases," no choices. If the choice were ours, I honestly don't know what we would do, because there hasn't been any point in thinking about it. So this post is totally not about "deciding" about homeschooling--I know numerous others who are similarly bound, whether that means they must homeschool or they can't.

What this circuitous preface is leading up to is a post about being CSPP and a school mom. And what that is about is stinking it up. I was a terrible school mom last year. It was often impossible for me to get to school functions at which parental attendance was invited/requested. Why? Because I have three younger kids.

Dragging my entourage along on field trips would have made a disaster out of the trip for everyone else who is not used to our disastrous way of life (even if stage performances and such were baby-friendly venues). I couldn't fit any other kids in my car anyway because it's filled up with my own. If I helped on party day, I spent the whole time keeping the baby out of the rabbit cage and trying to prevent the [then] 2-yr-old from packing away a fifth cupcake instead of whatever Froot Loop stringing or Bozo Bucketeering I was supposed to be facilitating.

When yet another paper comes home requiring me to check "Yes, I'll be there" or "No, I don't care about this important reminiscible** event in my precious child's life so I'll be sitting on my can at home eating chips," I feel pretty worthless. Because, see, I would have a legit excuse for not being there if I were working. Or if I were a really good "working mom," I would take the afternoon off and go on the field trip. Since I'm an at-home mom, I'm supposed to show up for this stuff. But for some reason I keep having kids and providing all the evidence anyone needs to prove how this leads to the neglect of those already in existence.

Homeschoolers, I salute your toils, and I anticipate they will be my own some day. In the meantime, I've got this to make me doubt my maternal fitness.

And on the odd chance that anyone is reading this who is or hopes to be a homeschooler and is wondering what would become of her life if homeschooling became a great deal less do-able: I can tell you from both a parental and a post-teaching perspective that there is LOTS of work to be done just down the hall from your kids as a school mom, and always more work to be contrived ex nihilo in support of a school. Scrip! Book fairs! Getting rid of 30 years' worth of trophies in the basement! Pointless gimmicky sentimental events to plan! Teacher Appreciation Semester! Teams to coach! Terminally ill geckos to make comfortable! Buses to learn to drive! Elective courses to teach on a volunteer basis! And all of it with the help of your younger kids. The fun never ends. EVER.

*In some Lutheran parishes, it is not a big deal if the pastor's family homeschools, and in others it is. We are blessed to have a veritably Lutheran school in our backyard. I almost feel bad about how well the place has catechized our child--but then Dad has something to do with it too. :)

**Since when did the point of childrearing become packing a kid's hippocampus (thank you, Gauntlets) with phosphorescence? Remind me to rant about that sometime.

School

I have no idea what the actual numbers look like, but here in the vortex, it pretty much feels like everybody homebirths and homeschools and homeetc. Since I know some people find an otherwise elusive solidarity here in CSPPville which needn't involve perceived pressure into other parental PACs, I'm going to go on the record and say that if it is of interest to you, my kids go/will go to Lutheran school (our oldest just finished kindergarten, next in line won't be up for another year). Now that our first year of school is over, I find that I haven't said anything about it here. This is both because there isn't a lot to say that I consider to be of broad interest, and also because the things I might be interested in saying are not things I'd be interested in blogging. So, if you're interested, there it is. If you're really interested for some reason, you can always email.