The Things We Wish We Had Said...

Does it ever happen to you that someone asks you a question, and only later can you think of the witty, thoughtful, or just basically intelligent reply you ought to have given? Yes, I thought so. Well, here's my most recent example of just such a situation.

Over Easter weekend, one of Dave's relatives asked me how long we thought we would homeschool. After having fumbled through the answers to some other pointed questions about family size and homeschooling, I was relieved to be able to answer this one directly, and I said we would probably go all the way to graduation. But then this relative leveled her gaze at me (she really did - it was somewhat unnerving) and said,

"So you feel you have a sufficient grasp of every single high school subject?"

And the smile froze on my face as I considered how to answer that. Later I remembered a few witty things with which I could have responded, such as,

"Why yes, actually, I do! I was homeschooled myself, you know!"

or, with an expression of panic, "I hadn't thought about that!"

But I don't think that sort of humor would have been appreciated, so it was probably best I didn't have a chance to think of it as I gave a barely intelligent (and probably not very convincing) response about outsourcing. I could have, however, at least mentioned that my homeschool friends and I all made it through the high school years, none of us having parents who were experts at "every single subject," and we seem to have done well for ourselves on the whole. Most of us had above average SAT scores (some had incredible ones!), made it into college, and proceeded to do very well there. I have friends who went on to become talented nurses, engineers, photographers...It's true that not everyone went all the way through college (for various reasons), or even went, or had impressive high school records, but I'm fairly certain that the same is true of public and private school student bodies.

And I could have gone on to talk about why I think we all managed to survive, and why I believe my children won't be shortchanged or ruined, either. Growing up, we fit somewhere in between the first and second generation of the modern homeschooling movement, so while my parents didn't exactly have to create the path, it was certainly a new one when they began walking it. In short, there were many things I think they figured out along the way, and many things we all learned together. That process gave us, the students (and probably our parents, too!), the ability to learn how to learn, which sounds simple enough but is really an amazing gift. When you cannot simply take a teacher's word for it, you have to look it up for yourself, and to do that, you have to learn how to find the resources, and to determine whether they're reliable, and you must explore and question constantly. I think this usually results in an immersion in what I like to call "an atmosphere of learning," in which the lines between "formal education" (i.e. being told what to know and what you're supposed to do with it) and the rest of your life become rather blurred. Learning doesn't start and stop at predetermined intervals, and the fear of learning diminishes.

I am absolutely not saying that this can't happen to students in public schools, please understand me, but I am saying that I have never been in a situation in which a group of public students overwhelmed or intimidated me with learning skills acquired from a lifetime of teachers with a "sufficient grasp" of their subjects; in fact, rather the opposite was true. As a senior in high school, I took a couple classes at the local technical college to fulfill my high school requirements, and I remember being confused at how unnecessarily difficult many of the students seemed to make the classes. Chemistry, for instance, was neither my forte nor even a remote interest of mine, but it didn't take long to determine what it was we were supposed to get out of the class and the best way to get it. We weren't supposed to learn everything there is to know about chemistry, but many students remained stuck in their fear of just the word and couldn't seem to see the forest for the trees, as the saying goes. The English class I took was even worse, as most of the students barely had a grasp of the most basic writing skills and therefore certainly couldn't put together coherent essays comprised of their own thoughts. Later, when I graduated and went to a university, I didn't find things much better among the general population of students. Many students had a very difficult time NOT being told what to do, think, write, and say at every turn, and found the task of doing, learning, and thinking for themselves a challenging one. The point of this is to say that while there are plenty of people, from all different educational backgrounds, who are smarter than I am - and, for the record, a good number of friends who were educated in the public schools and whom I quite respect - I have not found myself behind the masses. I have found, instead, that the ability to learn for myself has been a most valuable gift.

I've been able to bring that gift, and the lack of fear that accompanies it, along with me in the journey of educating my own children. (Ok, ok, not a complete lack of fear and doubt - no one's perfect!) I do remember that in the beginning, I wondered if I would actually be able to teach my children how to read. But it happened - and most of it without my direct instruction. And that's usually how most learning happens around here. I give them a springboard (and there's a vast array of resources these days), we learn together, and if they're really interested, they wallow around in more facts, information, and knowledge than any teacher could every give them. I think about Aimee's "sufficient grasp" of The Lord of the Rings, a book she's read voluntarily now three or four times, all without the knowledge that she's not "supposed" to tackle or understand that until junior high or high school. Then there's Drew's recent love of World War II study. After three weeks of poring over books I had brought home on the subject (and becoming, in the process, a walking encyclopedia of WWII facts, including battles, leaders, and all kinds of other statistics) he begged me for more, and I brought him home an armload of more fact-filled non-fiction, with more World War II information than I've ever known or could teach him. What's funny is that recently both of them moaned something about not liking school. I asked them what they were talking about, and referenced the above. Aimee replied, "We don't mean reading or history- we mean 'school'," which beyond a subject or two each, they never could really explain further. The point is that the learning that goes on here all the time, the learning that is above and beyond what would be asked of them elsewhere, is approached without dread or worry, usually because they hardly know they're doing it. And what of those subjects that they don't love, or those with which I really have no familiarity at all? Knowing that they are hard-wired for learning, at the very least we don't worry that we need someone competent to feed the information to us. We tackle those subjects together, and when we don't understand, we look for more resources to help us...and when we still can't grasp it, we go find people who might know. And that's what we'll keep doing, learning and growing together all the way through.

Are you still there? If you are, you're right, this particular relative wouldn't be at this point if I had attempted to give such an answer. As it was, I had the distinct impression that I had been dismissed and was no longer of much interest after my feeble answers. But I feel better now, anyway!