Kindergarten Cop-Out. I wanted to homeschool. My daughter had other plans. Babble.com.
I wanted to homeschool. My daughter had other plans.
Next month, I will drop my firstborn child off at the door of a kindergarten classroom for the first time. After I wave goodbye and bike home alone, we’ll each begin secret lives: I’ll spend my mornings writing stuff for grown-ups, while she makes friends, solves puzzles and gets in trouble in ways I’ll never know.
This is not how I planned it. I intended to homeschool my kids.
I had a miserable time in school myself. I was bored. I didn’t socialize well with my peers. I was too smart and too weird. Rio is, to put it gently, a lot like me. Homeschooling seemed like her ticket to a happier, wilder childhood.
This idea wasn’t a whim for me. I spent last summer taking training courses in Waldorf home education, and the past year building up a small home-based preschool that meets at my house four days a week. I turned our whole house into a de facto classroom. I read thousands of pages of child development books, educational philosophy and memoirs by successful homeschoolers. I wrote articles for homeschooling blogs and magazines.
So last year, we made our home a preschool, and worked at building community. At first there was a lot of enthusiasm among our friends and acquaintances. It seemed like every mom I talked to on the playground was thinking about homeschooling her four-year-old. Everyone at playgroup was concerned about the local public schools. I held a few potlucks for people interested in starting a homeschooling coop, and twenty families showed up.
But one by one, they dropped out. They’d quietly admit they’d enrolled their kids in kindergarten. Sometimes at the child’s request, sometimes because both parents needed to work, sometimes because they realized they just didn’t want to do it. Finally, there were only two or three families left.
I pushed ahead. In January, when our school district started registrations, I watched the deadline coast by. Instead, I called the city to let them know we would not be registering for kindergarten. Rio overheard our conversation.
“Tell me about kindergarten,”Rio said when I hung up the phone. “Maybe I would like to go.”
I told her that every city has schools that anyone who lives in the city can attend, and that these schools start with kindergarten at age five. She asked if I went to kindergarten and I said I had. She wanted to know what it was like. I told her about walking to the end of our long dirt road and getting on the big scary bus.
She stopped me, looking very intensely into my eyes. “Mama. I do not want to know how you got to kindergarten. I want to know what you did when you were there.”
I wracked my brain for specifics. “We learned about what different size coins were worth. We set off model rockets. I had to go to the bathroom by myself with no teacher to help, and it was scary out in the corridor alone. There was recess on a big playground with a colony of prairie dogs living under the swings. Some bigger kids told me I would get in trouble for eating lunch under my favorite tree. I loved that tree, so big and broad and shady.”
“So,” Rio said, “Learning about coins. This happened when you were, what, six?”
“No, when I was five.”
“Oh.” Rio thought for a moment. And then she said this:
“I think I would like to visit a kindergarten one day while I am still four. If I like it, I will go try it for one day after I turn five. And if I like that, I think I’d like to try it for a month. Just to see what they are doing there, and if what they do there works for me, with what I am doing on my own. If it does, I will keep going. But if what they do doesn’t work for me, I’d like to continue homeschooling.”
How do you argue with that?
I didn’t. I talked it over with her dad, who took her to a kindergarten open house the next week. To my immense relief, she found it boring and we planned to homeschool for at least one more year. She thought first grade looked intriguing because the first grade had a class pet. I told her we could decide about first grade when she turned six, and privately planned to buy her an iguana if it would resolve her school envy.
So I forgot about kindergarten and focused on getting out of her way while she learned to swim, to ride a scooter, to mix watercolor paints and to read (a little). Then one June morning, I watched Rio sitting at the table solving a math puzzle with a bowl of smooth round stones. She’d mastered it, and was doing the same problem over and over again with ease.
She wants, she said, to get out of the house more.
“Rio, you’re getting so grown-up,”I said. “Soon we’ll need to get a book of kindergarten math games, because you’ve learned this game so well.”
“Don’t worry about that, Mama,”she said in an off-hand way. “I’ll be going to kindergarten in a few months, and I can learn math there.”
“We’ll be doing kindergarten here,”I explained gently. “That’s what homeschooling means.”
“No, Mama, I am going to school,”she informed me.
She wants, she said, to get out of the house more. She wants her own cohort of friends her age who live nearby. She wants to play different games than I’ve got in my treasure chest. She wants time away from her little sister, to be read a storybook in peace or do a craft without having to wrestle her scissors away from a toddler.
Kindergarten will, almost certainly, meet those needs for her.
And finally, her bottom line reason: “Mama, remember last year, when I wanted to try homeschooling, and then I did try it, and I liked it? Well, now I want to try kindergarten. I like to try new things.”
Of course you do, kid.
“It’s too late to sign up for kindergarten,”I said lamely, a little desperate.
I wasn’t thinking of her, at that moment. I was thinking about telling the homeschooling families I’d carefully nurtured connections with for the past year that we were jumping ship and signing Rio up for kindergarten. I was thinking about the dozens of hours I’d spent poring over Waldorf child development textbooks long after my kids were asleep. I was thinking about saying goodbye to my daughter every morning and not knowing what her days would hold.
I was thinking about going to kindergarten myself, as a mom, and facing my Mommy Imposter Syndrome every morning in the mirror of the other mothers’ neatly brushed hair and coordinated outfits. Of nodding along quietly while they chat about how often they wash their bathroom mirrors and where they shop for kids’ clothes, and hoping no one finds out I dress my kids in whatever I find at clothing swaps. I continue to socialize poorly with my peers, as it turns out.
I discovered, right then and there, that I’m a little afraid of finding out who I am when I’m not covered in baby food and craft glue. What will I use as an excuse to cover my weaknesses – my messes, my lateness, my forgetfulness, my lack of stable employment – when my kids are no longer my sole, all-consuming responsibility? Would I use the yawning void of those kid-free mornings to write, or would I sleep till 11 and then surf YouTube for more videos of Amanda Palmer in antique lingerie?
I saw kindergarten through her eyes, as just one more interesting thing we might do.
Finally, I thought about Rio, and none of it was good: What if the kids don’t like her? What if she cuts her own hair in the girls’ bathroom? What if I let her wear crazy clothes to school and she gets picked on? What if she stops wanting to wear crazy clothes at all?
“Can you just call them and see if they have an opening, Mama?”
Wincing and trying to hide it, I called. Our neighborhood kindergarten was full, but another phone call revealed that the lab school at the university my husband works at had, miraculously, a sudden surprise opening in their kindergarten class.
Could I take it? Should I?
I know just about every homeschooling family goes through a little kindergarten envy, especially with the oldest child. There are a lot of strategies for working around this. I could steer her back towards my idyllic vision of her childhood.
But I didn’t want to. I didn’t feel like Rio was asking to go to school because some of her friends do or because she wanted to ride a bus. Throughout the whole conversation, I felt I was speaking with the “adult inside”, not the winsome four-year-old who wants to fly to Colorado one minute and dig a hole through the earth to Fairy the next. She was calm. She was clear. She made eye contact and used big words. She asked serious questions and listened to the answers. All of my school-based anxiety melted away. There was just me and my awesome kid sitting together talking. I saw kindergarten through her eyes, as just one more interesting thing we might do on the joint venture of her education, akin to yoga class or storytime.
After all my hours of panic and introspection and planning about my kids’ education, here we were at the precipice. Kindergarten vs. Homeschooling. And there was no hypothetical child to protect or decide for. There was Rio, a person I’ve helped grow for the past four-and-a-half years into an ally both smart and wise. It felt as if she took my hand in this talk and said, “Don’t mind the cliff, Mom, we can fly.”
Kindergarten, here we come.
Rock on.
I predict that in the next year or so you will home school her. There is no place in public school for the highly gifted. She will get bored, talk too much, ask to many questions but worst of all she will question the rules. Why do I have to sit quiet during lunch? Why cant I talk to the other kids during lessons? Why do I have to learn my shapes even though I have known them for 2 years? She will spend hours bored while the teacher deals with a kid with ADHD, teaches the others their colors and how to count to 100. You will finally either get the call from the school taht she is disruptive or she will tell you she is bored. My oldest was dying to go to big kid school. 6 weeks in I had to pull her out. The school psychologist said, “We just dont have the resources for a child like this and she may have to do most of her work alone.” So here we are. Saving up for a pricey private school for the gifted. I suspect that you are secretly thrilled she is going to school so you can work. We all wish we could. But when you have a child that is different, then you have to do what needs to be done.
Good for you on listening to your daughter, she sounds like an intelligent, articulate little girl.
I was bored in school, and I have ADHD. None of my teachers gave me extra help except for once a week and I don’t feel that I slowed down the other kids at all. I now have a masters degree. Just sayin’
It boggles my mind a bit that a 4 year old needs to so thoughtfully articulate herself in order to go to school. There are plenty of extracurricular activities etc for gifted children if the programs at school don’t provide enough stimulation. There is no reason to let your personal fears or anxiety stop your child from experiencing a natural normal well socialized life. I’m glad you let her follow her own path & got over your personal fears. I commend you on your bravery
Good for you both; it sounds as though your daughter is telling you exactly what she needs! I grew up in a home that sounds almost as enriching and educational as the one you’ve made, with a devoted educator mother, and I *adored* school, mostly because it got me out in the world and around other adults, other kids, other ways of doing things, away from baby siblings and baby things — without that wonderful home life and idyllic, wild, pre-school early childhood behind me, I would not have thrived in public school as I did, no question. But I thrived, I learned to lump the small frustrations of daily life out in the world, learned to wait my turn, learned to get along with all kinds of kids who were very different from me. The wonderful, attachment-rich home life you’ve given your daughter is her base now, from which she will sally forth, strong and smart and full of love and life, to start her secret life being whoever she wants to be in the world. Congratulations, and enjoy!
Just wanted to say that homeschooled kids can and often times do have a ‘natural normal well socialized life’ if the parents make the effort to get them involved with outside-of-the-home activities with other kids. Many do even better than their peers stuck in school all day since they often learn how to socialize with people of all different ages, not only the same age. Again just saying.
But I loved this article. It shows the conflict of a mom who only wants to give their child the best childhood ever without the bad stuff, but coming to realize that 1) bad stuff happen to everyone and it only teaches us all how to live in this crazy world, and 2) that part of being a great mom is putting your child’s desires ahead of your own. Not to mention her recognizing that her little girl is fully capable of making decisions for herself and supporting her, which I bet will help their relationship through the years.
you go mom: If an adult friend told you that she was miserable at her job and had little prospect for advancement, would you tell her to get herself some hobbies and stay miserable 9-5, or to look for a new job?
“Gifted” is a continuum, not a box. So’s “school”. Some kids, at some schools, just need some extra stimulation. Some are happy as clams just the way it is. Some need a radical change of scene.
I’m a bit baffled by the presumptuous assumption on the part of the author that her precocious daughter must be so gifted she will be miserable at school. Everyone thinks their kid is intelligent and special. Most of us are grounded enough to realize that our feelings about our kids’ talents and intelligence are probably not in line with reality. Sierra, wait until your daughter gets to school with her peers before you hail her a genius.
It really doesn’t have to be either/or. Even if you are not following a formal homeschooling curriculum, you are still her primary teacher. My son will attend his fourth day of public school kindergarten tomorrow. There he will sing the ABCs and color a picture of a school bus. Then he will come home and we will discuss the sun’s gravity and the orbit of the planets, the American Civil War, and whichever chapter book he is reading currently. He is happy, I am happy.
Ditto “come on” at 8:10.
Several times reading this essay I shook my head and said, “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
Why on earth would you tell your child about the scary school bus or the scary corridor or the mean older kids? Well, I guess it’s because you wanted to discourage her and scare her away from school. So much for raising a self-directed child. How about being truly adult/mature about it (since she is so precocious) and laying out just the facts, ma’am?
And the laughable comments about having to make small talk with neatly groomed moms about cleaning the bathroom? Are you serious? Is this based on experience or fear? Where do you live, anyway?
Rio sounds like a normal child – a sweet, inquisitive, delightful child. Not an exceptional child, just a normal one – and there’s nothing wrong with that.
You need to figure out how to allay your fears and presumptions about the outside world before your daughter gets fed up and signs herself up for even more organized activities away from home.
Thanks for writing about your decision–this is a beautiful article.To some of the commenters–I think Sierra’s point is less that she feels her child is too “special” for school, and more that she wants to protect her child from some of the feelings of isolation that school caused (and still cause) for her. I have nothing but bad memories of school and the people there, children and teachers, who made me feel that I never did anything right. I don’t think it’s presumptuous or immature to want to protect my son from those feelings, if he’s prone to them, by considering alternatives to the norm. I do think it’s probably Judgy McJudgersons like you who made school unpleasant for me, and it just reinforces my desire to make a thoughtful decision about schooling to know that people like you are still around.
Mhristie -
I seek to protect my children from physical and emotional hurts, too. I do not go about doing so by instilling fear where fears need not exist (i.e. “scary bus,” “scary hallway.”) It’s important to be honest with a child about how one was not happy in school, but it seems less than responsible to feed the child rhetoric that may not be true at all for her when she tries it herself. How about, “Mama didn’t really like school, but you might.”
I’m pretty sure I was not one of the Judgy McJudgersons to which you refer; I do feel bad for you that school sucked.
And, isn’t it a little “judgy” to make those flip comments about polished moms discussing house cleaning?
Seriously!
ceecee, I agree with you that the author probably shouldn’t go about instilling fear where none exists. I actually read that part as being much more about the author’s own issues. Like the author wasn’t doing the best parenting thing, but was so worried about and wrapped up in her own experiences that she was going to make school sound bad on purpose, but unconsciously, if that makes any sense. I agree that it’s not the best parenting choice, but it made me feel sympathy for the author, as did the bit about the bathrooms and stuff. Clearly there is some deeply rooted insecurity there.
I found the article really heartwarming. To me, it took a lot for the author to face up to her own fears and insecurities and listen to her kid tell her what she needed.
I love the honesty and thoughtfulness of this article. Brava to the author, who really dug deep to consider her own fears as well as her daughter’s needs and abilities.
I have to laugh, however, at Ali’s comment above: “I predict that in the next year or so you will home
school her. There is no place in public school for the highly gifted.
She will get bored, talk too much, ask to many questions but worst of
all she will question the rules.” Oh, lord.
I, too, was considered “gifted” at a young age. IQ of 150 and reading at 2. Whatever. I have both good and bad memories of my 13 years of public schools. I had wonderful teachers who challenged me, and lazy teachers who didn’t know what to do with me. I had lots of amazing, bizarre friends, and plenty of “mean girl” enemies. But guess what? That’s life. And I am thrilled (both as a mom and a teacher at a “pricey private school”) to be sending my five-year-old son to kindergarten the local public elementary this year. There is so much more to life and learning than constantly being attended to and “pushed” by the adults around you. I am so glad my mom made the decision she did (to send me to public school and let me read, explore, and create at home as well), and I am willing to bet your lovely daughter will thank you down the road too!
Even gifted children need the school experience to learn social skills that will be invaluable for the rest of their lives. Unless the child is being victim of major bullying or has special needs that the local district will not address, I wouldn’t consider homeschooling as the best option.
As for the “other moms”… Has the author considered the possibility of actually finding at pick-up/drop off times a diverse group of women where she can actually meet new friends, or at least people who will show her a different point of view/culture?
Is this going to be the same child you will tell college-rape-horror stories to so she’ll do online school from your basement? How on earth is SCARING a child into doing what you want (scary bus, scary corridors, all alone) positive child rearing? Nevermind your lacking ability to interact at a basic level with your peers, try not manipulating your child with fear tactics.
To all the people judging the author for “scaring” their child, did you not notice in the article that she herself realizes this was the wrong thing to do? The article is as much about her overcoming her own fears and her realization she was letting those get in the way of raising the self-directed child she wants as it was about kindergarten itself.
Because she’s human, she doesn’t have a magic wand of perfect motherdom that makes her never, ever, ever do anything except the right thing and wipes away all the insecurities and irrational worries that life brings.
Shocking, I know.
Did you notice she *does* listen to her child in the end? She *does* realize every step of raising her kid involves letting them become more and more themselves, and listening when they do?
Patricia, I think I read this the way you did – heartwarming and honest.
LC – so if she realizes it is the “wrong thing to do” then why does she do it? It seems odd that a normal person would not possess enough self-restraint to keep the fears quiet. That’s the beauty of self-awareness (for which the author receives kudos from many of the commenters) – One can make a conscious decision to NOT scare the children with tales of woe. That’s what’s bothersome about that aspect of this article to me.
I am not condemning this mother – she sounds loving and caring. I just question two primary foci of the article: Imparting her own fears of school and her presumptuousness about other moms. Does she really know they fret over bathroom cleanser? I’ve never actually met someone who does this….. But I do know a middle school aged boy whose mother has managed to feed so many of her own fears and insecurities into his poor little system that he’s a real pill at this stage of the game. (And lots of her “tapes” play similar tunes – assuming the polished mommas are rich/living a life of leisure/judging her earthy style/etc.) Now her boy is socially awkward, has trouble making friends, and constantly makes excuses for his poor performance by blaming the teachers who his mom said are “harsh” or cold.”
“I think I would like to visit a kindergarten one day while I am still four. If I like it, I will go try it for one day after I turn five. And if I like that, I think Id like to try it for a month. Just to see what they are doing there, and if what they do there works for me, with what I am doing on my own. If it does, I will keep going. But if what they do doesnt work for me, Id like to continue homeschooling.”Yeah…right. I’m sorry but a four year old did not say this. Why do we feel the need to make our children sound extra precocious or extra “adult”? Why can’t we be happy with our kids acting and talking like 4 year olds? It creates constant competion among parents…”my child is so bright..he said…”. Well, my child is sooo imaginative, she sai…”. My son thinks underwear and farts are the funniest things there are and I think thats great.
I am with OMOM – no way did a four year old say that – sorry. Maybe some version of that – but not like that. I find this article ridiculous on a ton of levels.
i am glad your daughter is going to school so she can socialize normally and not turn into a home schooled jungle freak.
there’s plenty of ways to enrich your child’s learning experience but scary stories to dissuade her from going to school aren’t on that list. im glad my parents saw past how gifted i was (am) and put me into normal schooling. also, in a normal school, how much smarter i am than my peers was quantifiable. if she’s really gifted, she will rise to the top in school as well.
mom, focus on not passing along your peer relationship problems and improving your overly flowery writing style before prejudicing your daughter.
Ha! RGeorge, if Tim Tebow is a “home schooled jungle freak,” sign me up! That’s a worthy price to pay for being super successful and, by all accounts, outrageously nice into the bargain. Also, shouldn’t you learn to write correctly before criticizing the writing of others, even if you are (were) probably just way too gifted be constrained by silly things like punctuation and capitalization? Dude, people like you are why I love to read the comments.ceecee, I think you’ve taken the part about the well-coiffed mamas a little too much to heart. I agree with Patricia that the author was revealing her own insecurities more than criticizing the other ladies. Have you really never made small talk with another mom over stain-remover, or household chores? I personally know that I’ve had the conversation about how often I mop the kitchen floor at least three times with different women, and I promise I didn’t choose the topic any one of the times. It’s what you do with friendly strangers, and the prospect scares some people completely off of their cracker, whether they’ve got their makeup on or not. As to your other criticism, I think the author was honest in her assessment of school. She did call two things scary, the bus and the hallway (and weren’t they, when you were five?), but talked about coins, and the tree she loved. How would you explain kindergarden to a four-year-old? Would you leave out the parts you didn’t like? Would that be more “mature”?
OMOM and Serty:
Not to sound like a total bitch, but the highly gifted child DOES indeed speak that way. I have two of them myself, and they even talked like that before the age of 4. I myself used to get teased for having a vocabulary (at age 5) that was larger than the adults around me. The kids picked on me constantly, and the adults were just, well, mean.
There is also a bit of anti-giftedness going on in a few of these posts, and I have to say to those who tell the parents of gifted children that “your kids are normal; stop thinking everything they do is so godd*** special” to back off. It’s that kind of attitude that keeps gifted children from receiving the education they deserve and makes parents like me pull our kids out of “high-ranking” schools. Well, that and the religious indoctrination in a state-funded school (here in Georgia). My 11-year-old started “playing dumb” to fit in and to not cause so much “trouble.” Every book in the library at her school was at least 5 grades below her reading level. Fortunately we have our own library at home, but then she couldn’t take the AR quizzes at school for the books she read because they were only available at the high school level.
I could go on and on about gifted discrimination, but this mother had some very valid concerns. I just hope her extremely intelligent child doesn’t start to “dumb herself down” just to fit in if she doesn’t get what she needs from the local school.
mhristie -
I agree with you that it’s important to be honest with one’s children about one’s fears and anxieties. The tone of the article, the words she chose, led me to believe that she was trying to scare the child off school. I certainly have been open with my kids about the parts I loved and hated about school, but left off the judgmental terms “scary” and “mean.” I framed my fears as my own issues and barriers that I overcame through becoming stronger and more mature. For example, I did say to my oldest years ago, when he came home upset, that I too had dealt with kids who were not friendly to me… and followed up with some techniques for dealing with it. I did not say boo-hoo the kids were mean.. whine, whine. I actually asked him how he responded and we had a conversation about different ways to deflect unfriendly behavior. The last thing I want to do is create a pattern in which a “bad day” balloons into an indictment of the public school system.
Too many parents, in my experience, are too quick to blame everyone but themselves and their own offspring for any problem that may arise. One of my best friends does this. If her daughter has a bad day, my friend immediately placates her with, “Oh, honey, I know, I know… Mrs. X can be too strict. And “Eve” and “Hannah” need to grow up – don’t play with them tomorrow. You’re my pretty girl…” GAG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! How about equipping the child with tools to deal with adversity? And how about encouraging a little self-examination to find out what might make oneself more approachable or appealing?
I feel bad for people who are afraid of small talk, but I understand this afflicts quite a few adults. I should be more compassionate. At worst, in my opinion, small talk is ungodly boring, but harmless.
mlc070909-
As for “gifted discrimination”, I guess we have lucked out with our school systems. (My own growing up and the one my kids go to.) I’ll admit it’s partly socio-economics. We live in a neighborhood of “haves” – CEO’s, college profs, etc. Not necessarily smarter than the average population, but definitely parents who carry weight in terms of demanding lots of resources dedicated to G&T, credit for college classes taken off school grounds, etc. Plenty of kids here start calculus in 8th or 9th grade and read Harry Potter at age six or seven. So I’m used to well-spoken, brainy children who are all along the spectrum of social awkwardness/”coolness.” One of my best friends in early elementary was a genius who started classes at MIT at age eleven. He was also one of the most absent-minded children on the face of the planet. His parents made him connect regularly with us “normal” children to keep him grounded.
I loved how Sierra was able to admit her fears and face the dreaded kindergarten mommies, and give up her image of their family to meet her daughter’s needs. Yes, I was a little annoyed at the notion that moms talk about housework all the time–I don’t know where she lives, but, honestly the sorts of moms who send their kids to lab schools have seemed to me to be either the sort that have maids or the sort that will happily let leftovers turn into petri dishes in the fridge–and then put them under the microscope with the kids. Or the type that name the dustbunnies after their favorite authors.
Public school moms are as diverse as your neighborhood. If you can’t hold a conversation with them, you are either not trying hard enough, or you should move.
Sierra,
There are a lot of good reasons to homeschool. Fearing that your child’s experience in school will be a repeat of your own experience? That’s NOT one of them.
If you fear the social sanction of your mommy peers, then you are not cut out for homeschooling. Identifying oneself as a homeschooler is generally met with scorn — both outright and subtly. Successful homeschooling parents must constantly step out of their comfort zones in order to supply their kids with learning and social opportunities.
I would know. I homeschool my kids. It’s tough. It’s empowering. It’s a decision my partner and I made together. He and me. The grown ups. The parents. NOT the kids. That’s right: our kids had no say. Because as parents — and GOOD parents, at that — WE make all the tough decisions for our children. Your situation is a classic tail wagging the dog scenario.
mhristie i guess you are too busy mopping floors to understand pop culture references…
Me too. I just put my 4.5 year old in a 3-6 Montessori class that includes Kindergarten. But the reason we bailed on our carefully laid homeschooling plan is because we moved and found a school that pretty much had everything I had wanted from homeschooling. You know, except the free tuition…
Required a change in self image, but seems to be working so far. And we can always change tracks later if we need to, right?
I must hail the author’s courage because I would never, in a million years, admit to allowing such pathetically self-involved considerations to dictate educational choices for my child. If the precious precocious peri falls prey to boredom it is the duty of the pragmatic proactive parent to provide additional stimulation. Despite our helicopter delusions, most of us aren’t raising the next Albert Einstein. A 6-year old reading Harry Potter is completely unimpressive to me as Rowling’s books are hardly replete with challenging vocabulary. A 6-year old reading and understanding Shakespeare or Milton just might be a genius.
It is completely amazing to me how many people want to judge this mom, when all she is doing is figuring out what the best thing for her child is, in the most honest way possible.
Most of you base your judgement on this mom on your very ignorant idea of homeschooling. Home schooling is not bad, it is not only for those who are afraid of school. I know over 100 home school families and all of the children are well socialized. Many spend hours in a typical day playing with other kids, some their own age and some younger or older. They have an amazing ability to get to know my daughter, who is significantly younger, in nothing other than an encouraging way. Not only do they have a lot of friends, but they seem more mature and nicer, on average, than other kids their age. They go on fun field trips with friends, participate in co-ops and clubs, go canoeing and camping with their families and their friends families all together. Because we live in Central FL, they go to the beach when it is less crowded, and Disney when the weather is nice, tickets are cheap, and there are no lines. They participate in all of the extracurricular activities public schoolers do, and more. They are able to get their schoolwork done in half the time (no exaggeration) because home schooling is more efficient, and can spend that extra time with their friends having fun, rather than in a classroom setting. I am zoned for one of the best public schools in the state, and yet many of our neighbors home school. Public school does not have to be a bad choice, for home schooling to be a good one.
You may know one or two people who were home schooled and have social issues. Remember that correlation does not equal cause, and most likely the reason they were home schooled was because of their social issues.
When it comes to fear dictating school choices, I feel it is truly the other way around. I know of moms who are unhappy with their child’s school, who would probably be better off home schooling, but they won’t even look into it because of their fears and preconceived notions of what home schooling is. This is a shame, but I wouldn’t judge them based on the decisions they make. I have never met a home school family who was afraid of public school. They simply believe home schooling is better.
I’m sure if the decision was over a magnet school vs the community school, you would not be so quick to judge this mom.
A child doesn’t always know best. Really? You are letting a four year old make one of the biggest decisions in her life right now? Would you trust your child to choose her own doctor? To choose which house she wants to live in? We are the parents, and for whatever reason someone wants to homeschool their child, they shouldn’t be persuaded by a four year old that doesn’t have the experience and knowledge to make the best decisions. I believe that this mom is seeking what is in the best interest of her child. Too bad she let her child bully her out of a well informed decision.
UGH– How is sticking a bunch of same-aged children in a room socializing? How about exposing your child to what a real society is like, people of all walks of life and, guess what, different ages?? I never had an issue socializing my homeschooled children (as a matter of fact, we were over-socialized and sometimes fell behind in our studies). It is close-minded people who judge homeschoolers that infuriate me…
Good for you for your willingness to put your needs aside- whether it be to have freedom that comes in putting your kids in school, or the instinct to protect them from the world. Homeschooling will be there if you change your mind, and it’s a wonderful choice. If you keep that attitude, you’ll do well either way.
Wow, thank-you so much for sharing your story. What a beautiful soul your little girl has and what a great job you have done to nurture someone so self aware.
Beautifully written. Thanks for your honestly and authenticity Sierra. I have some visions of homeschooling my 2.5-year-old in the future, and I respect how you listened to your daughter and realized what was being triggered in you as she expressed desires and needs other than yours. Holding our expectations with an open hand–especially as it relates to our children–is one of my hardest challenges as a mom. As many of these comments reveal, our reactions say far more about ourselves than the person we are reacting to.
I am amazed that you were brave enough to stand up to the home schooling mafia online and post this beautiful telling of your decision making process. I’ve known many compentent adults who were home schooled as children, and I know many more competent adults who went to public school. Here’s a secret- we’re all pretty much the same.
We are all holding down jobs in our field, contributing to team projects. Most of us are raising families and on the weekends we socialize with our chosen friends. I’ve got awesome memories of going to school, my co-worker/friend who was home schooled through high-school has awesome memories of the dancing she was able to pursue more ardently because of a flexible schedule.
Sierra sending Rio to school isn’t a reflection or a judgement on what you’re doing with your kid. And the bizzare lashing out of the homeschooling crowd against anyone who breaks ranks reveals cracks showing great deal of uncertainty and fear in their facade of certainty in the correctness of home schooling.
Thank you for speaking from your heart. There is absolutely nothing selfish about your thinking process. There are disadvantages to sending your child to school, as the research clearly shows that within a year in public schools, children’s intrinsic motivation for learning goes down. There are pros as well, of course, and I completely understand every parent who grapples with deciding how to educate their children. Many parents just go by the achievement record of the schools in their district, not even considering the effect high-stakes testing has on their children’s learning process. Thank you for writing so frankly about this challenging decision making process.
The difference between Waldorf methods kindergarten and a regular kindergarten nowadays is huge – This is not just homeschool versus public school. From what I gather, a lot of people who conform most strictly to Waldorf wouldn’t let a young child have any say in the matter, saying that only adults have the mature capacity for choice. (Of course, there’s some really strict Waldorf thinking that probably wouldn’t really embrace the idea of homeschool at all – no “school” if you are under seven, and no parent-as-teacher if you are over seven – shaking off hereditary influences in the quest for freedom.) So what’s my point? I think Waldorf is truly great. It’s what education should be. And when we moved to a town with limited Waldorf choices, I was prepared to “homeschool,” at least for kindergarten. But my 5 year old is rejecting that, even with the prospect of a co-op class on Fridays. Why? Because she wants to go to a public language immersion kindergarten near our house. So I’m having lots of imaginary conversations now. Will I tell my adult child – I could have given you what I think is the best education the world can offer, but instead I bowed to your childish wish? Or will I tell her -you could have been bilingual, but my need to fulfill my own desires came first? I am spoiled for choice, and damned either way.
I just had to high 5 you on googling pictures of Amanda Palmer in antique lingere – love her!!
My goodness! So much anger here in the comments. I think this post is brave, and I hear the author deciding to TRY kindergarten, at her daughter’s request. That’s not quite the same as allowing a 4 year old to make a potentially life threatening decision.
Good for you, Sierra! Sometimes you have to take a risk.
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Homeschooling is crazy. It’s bad for the child and the parent. Children need to socialize and learn. The people that I know that were homeschooled turned out to be crazy freaks who never leave the house, because their parents taught them it was bad out there. Homeschooling your child is robbing them of their childhood. Hate to sound bitchy, but it’s true