Why We Homeschool, Part 4: It's not really like school
I do not have a teaching degree.
But to my knowledge, neither did the mothers of John Adams, John Quincy Adams, Thomas Jefferson, Abraham Lincoln, George Washington, George Washington Carver, Albert Einstein, Claude Monet...the list goes on. Note to self: I should read a list like this every Monday, Thursday and Friday when I'm ready to give up. Another note to self: Shockingly few women on that list...that must be another story.
In addition to the "my kids just really need to be around other kids" comments, we homeschool moms also hear "I could never homeschool because I'm not smart enough."
That's a valid fear. Except, not really.
As a functioning adult, you are most likely equipped to guide a child through everything he or she needs to know, at a developmentally appropriate level, through at least fifth grade. For everything else - there's a curriculum for that. (This is also something I need to consistently remind myself when I am feeling inadequate)
Really. Let's just focus on the basics. Forget state history, social studies, science, foreign language, even math for now... Everyone would agree that the foundation for education is to become a strong reader. Read, read, read, they say.
In our experience at school, our daughter was kept so busy that there wasn't a whole lot of time for her to read, read, read. They had reading activities, and reading stations, and reading groups, and she was even part of some special reading pull-out class for the stronger readers...but even with all of that focus on reading, I don't remember much actual...reading. I remember math worksheets, and citizenship stuff, and paper cutting and whether she had to move her ticket from green to yellow, and recess and library and music and lunchtime and fundraisers - all good, constructive activities - but not a lot that would encourage someone to want to just get lost in a book. And certainly not when she got home. "Reading" was a school subject - something she did to satisfy her teacher, so that she wouldn't have to move her ticket.
We learned early that when it came to learning styles, our oldest was a rabbit chaser. I don't even know if that's a thing, but that's what we call it. Her process is something like this:
1. Read a short paragraph on airplanes.
2. Rather than answer the given questions about airplanes (which are too obvious to dignify with answers), decide to build your own airplane.
3. Perform a Google SafeSearch for how to build airplanes, see the words "paper towel roll," close computer
4. Dig through the house for a paper towel roll, grab tin foil, twine, leaves, bottle caps and scissors while you're at it.
5. Spend the next 4 hours neglecting the rest of your given school work while constructing a model airplane out of the above materials.
This was another reason we felt the pull to keep her home, because obviously, this approach to learning won't work in a classroom setting. Ignoring your teacher in order to build a fairy-sized method of air travel will absolutely get your ticket moved. But to us, it seems like the type of story you'd hear from the childhoods of some of the world's greatest visionaries. What kind of educators would we be if we squashed that curiosity by demanding she recite the facts of the paragraph back to us? (And before you call the School Board on us, not every day is like that, I promise.)
I think people assume, like I did, that in order to provide children with an adequate or satisfying education at home, that we must make home look just like school. Well, we've tried that, and let me tell you... it is ridiculously stressful, mostly because I am not, actually, a teacher. I don't know how to make lesson plans, I don't know the theories of this or that, I don't know about classroom management or how to structure a book report. And seeing our school friends come home with pages and pages of homework or preparations for "pioneer day" or "Dr. Seuss Day" or "career day" projects or hours of study time invariably causes me to question if we are doing enough.
I may not have a teaching degree, but I do know how to read. I can read, and I am pretty good at figuring things out. So, from me, my kids are learning to read and figure things out. They are not being trained to recite canned answers - although they know those exist, they are not bound by them. At first (and still about once a week) I thought this was a weakness, that they were suffering from my inadequacy as a teacher. But now, as I watch them do nearly all of their school work independently, I see their little brains figuring things out. They know where to go for answers (not usually mom). They know what questions to ask. They are starting to catch on to the connections between what they're reading and the lives they're living.
And they have spent hours and hours lost in books, which we think is a pretty great way to start a lifetime of learning.
But to my knowledge, neither did the mothers of John Adams, John Quincy Adams, Thomas Jefferson, Abraham Lincoln, George Washington, George Washington Carver, Albert Einstein, Claude Monet...the list goes on. Note to self: I should read a list like this every Monday, Thursday and Friday when I'm ready to give up. Another note to self: Shockingly few women on that list...that must be another story.
In addition to the "my kids just really need to be around other kids" comments, we homeschool moms also hear "I could never homeschool because I'm not smart enough."
That's a valid fear. Except, not really.
As a functioning adult, you are most likely equipped to guide a child through everything he or she needs to know, at a developmentally appropriate level, through at least fifth grade. For everything else - there's a curriculum for that. (This is also something I need to consistently remind myself when I am feeling inadequate)
Really. Let's just focus on the basics. Forget state history, social studies, science, foreign language, even math for now... Everyone would agree that the foundation for education is to become a strong reader. Read, read, read, they say.
In our experience at school, our daughter was kept so busy that there wasn't a whole lot of time for her to read, read, read. They had reading activities, and reading stations, and reading groups, and she was even part of some special reading pull-out class for the stronger readers...but even with all of that focus on reading, I don't remember much actual...reading. I remember math worksheets, and citizenship stuff, and paper cutting and whether she had to move her ticket from green to yellow, and recess and library and music and lunchtime and fundraisers - all good, constructive activities - but not a lot that would encourage someone to want to just get lost in a book. And certainly not when she got home. "Reading" was a school subject - something she did to satisfy her teacher, so that she wouldn't have to move her ticket.
We learned early that when it came to learning styles, our oldest was a rabbit chaser. I don't even know if that's a thing, but that's what we call it. Her process is something like this:
1. Read a short paragraph on airplanes.
2. Rather than answer the given questions about airplanes (which are too obvious to dignify with answers), decide to build your own airplane.
3. Perform a Google SafeSearch for how to build airplanes, see the words "paper towel roll," close computer
4. Dig through the house for a paper towel roll, grab tin foil, twine, leaves, bottle caps and scissors while you're at it.
5. Spend the next 4 hours neglecting the rest of your given school work while constructing a model airplane out of the above materials.
This was another reason we felt the pull to keep her home, because obviously, this approach to learning won't work in a classroom setting. Ignoring your teacher in order to build a fairy-sized method of air travel will absolutely get your ticket moved. But to us, it seems like the type of story you'd hear from the childhoods of some of the world's greatest visionaries. What kind of educators would we be if we squashed that curiosity by demanding she recite the facts of the paragraph back to us? (And before you call the School Board on us, not every day is like that, I promise.)
I think people assume, like I did, that in order to provide children with an adequate or satisfying education at home, that we must make home look just like school. Well, we've tried that, and let me tell you... it is ridiculously stressful, mostly because I am not, actually, a teacher. I don't know how to make lesson plans, I don't know the theories of this or that, I don't know about classroom management or how to structure a book report. And seeing our school friends come home with pages and pages of homework or preparations for "pioneer day" or "Dr. Seuss Day" or "career day" projects or hours of study time invariably causes me to question if we are doing enough.
And they have spent hours and hours lost in books, which we think is a pretty great way to start a lifetime of learning.
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