Tiny Grass

I was reading this old post on Wired For Noise and thinking about all the stress that outing myself as a homeschooler has been giving me lately. I suppose it’s hard because M is right at the age when he would be heading off to kindergarten soon, so I seem to be constantly having to answer the question about whether he will be gong to school next year. And I’m too much of an idealist (or maybe just a bitch?) to pussyfoot around the topic. So I always proclaim that we’ve decided to homeschool, and that M and J won’t ever be attending school. I guess it’s become a sort of test. Depending on their reaction, I decide whether they are likely to continue to be friends with me in the future. If they give me a look that says I’m some kind of freak, I know I won’t be seeing them much more.

On the one hand, this sort of thing is just practical stuff - I likely won’t be making as many contacts with people in the public school realm as time goes on and we move around more in the homeschooling circles.  But on the other hand, I see that I’ve been kind of wrong.  I was talking over the issue at our new unschooling support group a few weeks ago, and I’ve begun to see that maybe I need to give people more time to deal with my oddities than I’ve been doing so far.  I’ve been struggling with how to deal, for instance, with old friends or family that have chosen a way of life that diverges from mine.  I’ve been expecting them to be totally supportive of my choices right from the get-go.  But I’m beginning to realize that maybe I just need to give other people more time.  After all, our family has been making a slow progression towards unschooling for 4 years, and it took me a lot of research and soul-searching to be fully comfortable with my choice.  Would it be so hard for me to give other people in my life a little time to get used to the idea that we are, more and more, becoming a not-very-mainstream family?  My hope is that if I give people outside our immediate family a little more time that some of the friendships and connections can be salvaged.

I’m still working through the idea of homeschooling. I mean, I’m committed to doing it and convinced by it’s efficacy, but I’m still working through the wheres and hows. For instance, how did I make it to this point, when just 10 years ago I imagined my life so much more mainstream?

Just the other day I was telling M about his birth (at his request). I was thinking how strange it seems now to remember how, just when labor was getting really intense, I walked out of my home, got into a car, and drove through rush-hour traffic with my husband and the midwife to a hospital. That was one hard ride, and the hospital experience was no picnic either! The machines, endless checks by nurses, painful bloodwork, all were just distractions and hindrances of the normal course of my labor. In contrast, J’s labor and birth was all accomplished in my own home, with no interruptions except for occasional trips to the bathroom (How dare my bladder interrupt the flow of labor!). For J’s birth, I learned to trust - trust in my body, trust in the process, and embrace my intuition. It was so satisfying - a birth that brought us all together as a family - working together and learning the secret of life.

It occurred to me the other day that the trip to the hospital in rush hour is so similar to imagining suddenly putting M on an orange bus and sending him to that lovely institution called school. How weird would that be? What an interruption from the flow of life. Not only that, but all the things that come with school - the unchanging schedule, homework, report cards, etc. - would just put roadblocks up in the relationships going on in our family. So I now see that embracing homeschooling, for me, is just one more step in putting trust in the process of life - I trust M and J will learn the things they need to when the right time comes (and with my assistance).

Here’s a little pic just about 12 hours after J was born. I just love this one.