The Walls
Every year we homeschool, I struggle. I mentally fight for and against educating our children at home. Whenever someone asks about why we homeschool, my default answer is that my husband decided we are going to homeschool, so we do. He has always been fully convinced that this is the right educational choice for our family. And I waffle back and forth. I can't seem to make up my mind. Most of the time, I'm glad we homeschool.
I struggle because I was trained as an educator. I love teaching - it is one of my passions, and it brings me joy in whatever format I teach. Almost any age, any subject. Bring it on!
Because I am an educator, I want to know I am "doing it right," and there is no "right way" in homeschooling. I have nothing to measure our progress against. No comparisons. No benchmarks. No previous students. Last spring, I told a new homeschooling mama, "Don't worry - your homeschool won't look like anyone else's, and that's okay." I believed it when I said it, but for some reason it is hard for me to hang on to that philosophy without waivering.
Last night, it dawned on me. I finally knew why it bothered me so much. Why I have never been comfortable homeschooling.
An illustration popped into my head, building itself out of my high school track experience.
Almost everyone knows what a track looks like. Even if you never attended a high school track meet, you've probably seen the Olympics, right? Eight lanes, precisely measured. Start and Finish clearly marked. 100 meters is the same for everyone. The most perfect way to run a race.
Fair as fair can be. My kids could appreciate that.
When a family enters homeschool, it's like being set on a track. Again, everyone begins at the starting line.
Kindergarten, right?
Only in this race, there are concrete walls erected where each line divides one lane from another. No one can see anyone else. Each homeschool family has their own lane, choosing their own homeschooling goals, curriculum, and pace.
So not only can I not see the progress of kids who are publicly or privately schooled, I can't see how other homeschoolers are doing either.
I can't look to the side, gaining a measure of confidence knowing I'm running the same pace or better than others. I can't view a crowd ahead of me, indicating I need to work hard to catch up. I can only look straight ahead and hope we'll get to the finish line in an acceptable time, with acceptable results.
That's it! This is why I struggle. I don't know how we're doing. Are we doing too much? Are we doing too little? Are we doing it right, for pete's sake? (This is when I need to repeat to myself for the millionth time, "Our homeschool doesn't look like anyone else's, and that's okay.)
When we go for our homeschool portfolio review at the end of the year, I painstakingly gather different samples of the year's progress and carefully organize them for our evaluator. She takes about 30 seconds to review the portfolio, asks my daughter what her favorite subject is, and then signs the form indicating we fulfilled our requirements for another year.
Although this way of evaluating our work for some homeschool families, I feel the need for something more concrete. I want to know if we are on course for college. I want to know my children can succeed in life and that I'm doing this right.
Almost certainly, other homeschool parents run through this same train of thought as often as I do.
I want to be the kind of family that is confident and has peace about the decision to homeschool. It's almost like I won't fully commit because I think, if I fail, I can say it wasn't my idea in the first place. Just typing that sounds so wrong, but it's honest.
How do homeschool families who are sure they've made the right decision...reach that place of steadfast confidence and stay there?
Why do I feel the need to compare? Why can't I just be happy with what we're doing?
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