Rediscovering the Joy

I am a home schooling mother.  I know that I am stating the obvious for you, the reader (all three of you).  It is a huge part of my identity, but it is also probably the part of my identity that I am least honest about with others.  I don't talk about it much unless people ask, and when they ask how things are going, I almost always say "Fine" or "Great."  Even if things aren't fine.  Or great.

There are a myriad of reasons for this, but one of the biggest reasons is that education can be an emotionally charged issue for many of us.  Hopefully, all of us were educated in some capacity, and we have feelings about that experience.  And many of us have been in the position of making educational decisions for someone else...usually our children.

Now, I am a "teacher by trade,"  which in no way makes me more qualified to home school...but that's another post, entirely.   Many applications and interviews for teaching positions generally include a question about the teacher's philosophy of education.  Over the years, my philosophy  of education has become incredibly simple.

I believe that all children have the ability to learn, and should be given the best opportunity possible to do so.  And I believe that ultimately, the responsibility for an individual child's education rests not with the federal, state, or local governing bodies or a school's administration, or even the individual classroom teacher.  It rests with the parent or guardian of the individual child.  

That doesn't mean that every parent should home school, but it does mean that as parents, we have a serious responsibility to be involved in our child's education, and be constantly evaluating that process and how it is working.  Sometimes that means asking the hard questions...and getting the hard answers.

I did not start home schooling because I had this burning desire to educate my children at home.   In fact, initially, I had NO desire to educate my children at home.  :o) I wanted my daughter to go to the small, private school where I had taught.  It had a reputation for academic excellence, small class sizes, and half-day kindergarten. :o)  But it cost money.  Money that we didn't have, unless I wanted to go back to work.  So I began home schooling.  

I was unprepared for what a rewarding experience it would be.  I had been in the classroom.  I had seen the "lightbulb" go on when a child "got" a concept, and it was amazing to behold.   But those experiences paled in comparison to seeing the "lightbulb" in my own children--snuggled up next to them as I watched with rapt amazement as they sounded out a consonant, vowel, and a consonant to come up with "cat" and the look of wonder on their faces when they realized that they read and comprehended a word.  There were many such wondrous moments in the early years.

I have a dear friend who takes very seriously her responsibility for her daughter's education.  She is constantly evaluating and asking the hard questions, and jumping in with both feet to do whatever it takes to help her beautiful girl be successful.  Very recently, that has involved the decision to school at home.  

We were visiting the other day about how it was going.  My friend was glowing!  She was so excited about the "lightbulb" experience, and the joy of being able to take a small diversion during a math lesson to have a discussion that would've otherwise been missed in a traditional school setting.

And in visiting with her, I came face-to-face with something that I have been suspecting but have largely ignored.  I have lost that joy in my own home school.  School around here has become one more thing in an impossibly long list of things to get done.  The students aren't happy...the teacher isn't happy.  I have been neglecting my responsibility to my children.  I am still providing the curriculum...and the instruction...but I haven't asked the hard questions.  I've stopped evaluating.

So, to you four students, who mean the world to me, I sincerely apologize, and I humbly ask for your forgiveness.  And I promise...that if I get nothing else done over this two week break, I will find a way to rediscover the joy.