Once upon a time in the not too distant past, there was a home schooling family.
Pa worked, and Ma stayed at home, teaching their five children. They had begun their home school adventure much like many other families, merely bringing school home...
In fact, when Lisa and Glenn -the two eldest children- were brought home at the end of grades three and one, Pa and Ma made arrangements with the principal to borrow all the texts they would need for the next year. The principal told Pa he could pick up anything he thought he might need from the pile of renovation discards behind the school. Throughout the month of July, as the grass and weeds worked their way up through that pile, Pa could be found, conversely poking through the debris, and puttering away in the basement. By the end of the month, he had provided his family with their school room, complete with desks, maps, and a recycled blackboard. The blackboard was particularly exciting to have, for it made the room feel just like a school. The alphabet written along the top (although it went only as far as the letter M) provided a particularly authentic feeling, and old chalk and years of use left it even smelling like a school room.
Lisa and Glenn were keen to start August 1st, but Ma and Pa thought it would be best to wait and be more like everyone else. Often, throughout that month, the kids could be found adding touches to their "schoolroom," and hardly a day passed without them inquiring as to how much longer they would have to wait to start school. "Wait until September," was the standard reply, and in due course it seemed to Glenn that September must be the most wonderful month of the year. By the time "Back to School" savings hit the local drug store, the anticipation was practically unbearable. Ma took them shopping for all the essentials: pencils, pens, erasers, glue, 3-ring binders with subject dividers, lined paper, art paper, graph paper, extra paper .... Ma finally put her foot down as Lisa admired the rows of colourful new lunch pails. Surely it wouldn't be necessary to buy everything the school kids needed ... "although for field trips...."
"Why do we have to start September with a holiday?" moaned Glenn, whose favourite month had finally come. Tuesday morning, long before Pa even began to get ready to go to work, Lisa and Glenn were firmly ensconced in their desks. Ma was still feeding the younger three children their breakfast when Pa made his way downstairs to pray, and sing O Canada, and wish his two "home schoolers" well on their first day of school. Careful not to ‘cheat’, Lisa was reluctant to read Glenn's Arithmetic assignment to him, but was busy helping him review his counting, and alphabet, and colours. This was great fun to Glenn, who had mastered all these basics two years ago, and was scoring 100% on every question Lisa threw his way. By nine o'clock, the agreed upon "school time", Glenn was pretty much ready for a break, but the excitement of the "teacher" coming downstairs kept him in his seat.
School went very well for the whole month of September, and the kids were having fun comparing their progress to that of their public school friends. Significantly ahead by the end of the first month, they began to muse upon how they would be able to finish grade twelve while their peers were still struggling through grade ten. Ma was able to keep a pretty steady school schedule going, but the house was looking less orderly, and the younger three children seemed to be crying more easily and certainly squabbling more.
With the coming of October, they all began to notice a change in tone, and just after a gala Thanksgiving, complete with abundant art and thematic writing projects, everyone was hit with the same feeling: playing school just wasn't fun anymore. Glenn began to wish their schoolroom had a window he could see out of, moaning that he had missed the Fall colours, seeing "nothing all day except the dried up daisies" brushing against the glass of the basement window. Lisa was less inclined to complain, but it was evident to everyone that her heart was no longer in it. Ma tried heroically to keep it all together, scaling down her expectations, allowing a longer lunch break, and even initiating "time off" if they got their lessons done in a timely fashion. Then, just before Remembrance Day, Ma woke up to her first bout of morning sickness.
Well, school was pretty much hit and miss for the next few months. Pa took a bit of time off work to try and man the schoolroom, but found himself running after the younger three more than supervising school, and Ma's green colour filled their home with a hue that seemed to affect everyone. By the time the coldest weather was past and water began to trickle off the roof, the hue had lifted a bit, and everyone had Spring on their mind. Ma had capitulated and allowed Lisa and Glenn to move upstairs, as much for herself as them. She too had begun to find the basement dreary, and now she could guide the kids while she lay on the couch. The results of a day's schoolwork became less evident to Pa when he returned home from work each day, and he began to wonder if his "pupils" were learning anything at all.
By Easter, the Principal was asking pointed questions about how the year went and whether or not the kids would be back in school next Fall, especially since Ma would be having a baby in August, and would be "in no shape to handle school in September." He had heard stories last Fall about how far ahead Lisa and Glenn were, but noted that things had quieted down considerably as the year had progressed. When they listened to him, Pa and Ma were convinced they had failed. The school room now looked more like Legoland than a school, Glenn and Lisa had dropped most of their curriculum entirely (except on the odd day when Ma sat down beside them with a "now, where were we?") , and with the advent of Spring, they had taken to the woods nearby, finding nests, carrying home 'pond life' in a jar, and building forts. They had almost forgotten that they had been following a specific Language course, and began reading some of the discarded library books Pa had dragged home for "when they are older." Glenn especially loved to listen to Lisa read about early explorers as they crouched in their makeshift shelters and imagined themselves in times of yore. Ma didn"t mind much, for during at least a part of each day Glenn and Lisa would take the younger three with them, and she could take a much-needed nap, or catch up on the laundry or housecleaning without facing the constant demands of children who love being with their mother.
By the time the Principal had called three times, Pa and Ma decided it was high time they sat down and made a decision about next year. Actually, they believed they had already made a decision, but it was difficult to face it and get on with it. Besides, Glenn and Lisa were beginning to express vociferously how much they loved home schooling, especially as they watched their peers trudge by to school each morning, while they themselves made plans for the next phase of their developments in the woods and backyard. "Sure," said Pa, that evening when they had determined to finally get the kids to bed early, and discuss next year in concrete terms; "they love home schooling because they never do it." "I'm not sure I could disagree," said Ma, but having searched out the views of other home schooling mothers over the past few weeks she now added, "but I really want to look at this year fairly, perhaps even stretching our definitions a little, to see if there has been anything positive about this experience."
It was late -well, actually early- when Pa and Ma finally settled into bed. Pa had insisted upon listing all the failures first, but once he was able to get that off his chest, was ready to listen to something positive. He, like Ma, had noticed how much better their two eldest (rivals from the start) were getting along. They had begun to take initiative as soon as they had realized Ma was going to be "feeling ill for a while," and in fact Ma couldn't remember when she had last been the one to feed the younger three breakfast. A natural little mother, Lisa had all but taken over the kitchen with Glenn bringing up the rear. Ma had found this pregnancy easier than any previously; last time Lisa was away in school all day, and Glenn was a bit young to be of any real help. In fact, contrary to what the principal was saying, Ma couldn’t imagine how she would get along next year without the help of her 'school kids.' Both Ma and Pa noted how it had become easier to be consistent in everything from discipline to family prayer, and although Lisa and Glenn still saw their friends, they seemed less influenced by them, and generally content to be with their own family.
The momentum of their analysis was at a good roll when Pa put on the brakes with, "I think it is time to get back to the issue at hand." "True," he said, "they have grown in really positive ways, but what about the academics?" "You know, I've been thinking," said Ma, "If I step back and challenge my institutional mindset a little, I can see a lot of learning in what they have been choosing to do on their own."
True, the texts Pa had borrowed from school were forgotten and dusty by now, but subject by subject, Ma began to express what she had been seeing. Between researching designs of shelters used by explorers and building them, the kids had learned a great deal, but that was only the beginning. Once they began to play in them and read aloud the stories they could become a part of, History truly came alive. They made Lego models to scale, they created maps for both exploring and hiding treasure, they researched the use of a compass, and many other skills Ma didn't even know about, and Glenn was already reading the grade five Science book they had dragged home from a used curriculum sale. The Math they were learning wasn’t in a book, but Lisa had developed a good command of fractions, having to double or triple most recipes (designed for much smaller families). Ma had also begun to let the kids plan menus, right down to developing a shopping list on a fixed budget. Glenn had no problem figuring out how much they might have for 'extras' if he selected his ingredients wisely. In the midst of all this, Ma noticed that Eric, the five year old, was beginning to read, starting with the labels and signs at the grocery store.
Pa just lay there, long after he'd turned out the light, marveling at how much his children were teaching him about learning.
They decided to involve the kids, including Eric, in planning for the next year. Glenn took to planning like a Field Commander. He chose the books he would like to read instead of the Language Arts program from school, bargained for "just reading" about Science rather than doing it (Ma thought this would be okay, since he was actually exploring much of what he was reading anyway), wondered if Social Studies could just be more stories read by Lisa, and if he could skip Math for one year and then see how he felt about it next year. It was much the same with Lisa, and by then Ma decided Eric may as well just read this year and keep following Glenn and Lisa around as they continued to build things and look things up and find treasures out in the fields and woods near town. She wouldn't have much time to spend formally with him anyway. While on the couch during her first trimester and most of her second, Ma had noticed that the kids were most attentive when she read to them, and the discussions that grew out of those times together were always great opportunities to impart valuable knowledge, or lessons in life, or spiritual lessons, or character development, and slowly, her children were opening up their minds and hearts to her and to each other. She had that sense that she was finally getting it, and this was going to be a good year.
And indeed it was.
All through that second year, and in fact over the five years that followed, Pa and Ma grew along with their children amidst the changes of family life. Although they always "wanted to do more" with their home schoolers, they were perpetually kept busy by the "younger three." It seemed, just as one would enter 'school' another baby would join them, and before long that downstairs 'schoolroom' was subdivided into bedrooms, making the main living area of their home the irrefutable schooling area. As Eric, then two years later Amelia, followed by Joseph and then Naomi (who was born in their second year of home schooling) began to home school; Pa and Ma came to realize that home schooling was just an extension of the first five years of life with the addition of reading, writing, and numbers. Beyond that, each child simply continued to explore the world that was opened up in their 'pre-school' years.
As grade ten began to loom on the horizon for Lisa, Pa and Ma had made a point of attending the 'high school' sessions at conferences, ordering calendars from colleges, and most of all talking to other parents in their support group who, between them, had tried pretty well every option. The advice they liked best was to continue what they had been doing all along, treating high school as simply another three years of home schooling. Whenever they spoke to her about careers, Lisa insisted she just wanted to be a mother, so any work she might do would only be until she was married. "Why go to college for three years to train for something you don't really want to do anyway?" she would say. Pa was uneasy about this, and although he had to admit that their home was the best place to train a wife and mother, he reasoned, "What if the Lord chose not to provide her with a husband, or what if she were widowed with children to support?" It would be wise to have a career anyway, and to start by closing doors simply did not make sense to him. He preferred to try to maintain all the advantages of being at home while keeping open as many post secondary options as possible. When he discovered Lisa could qualify for a provincial diploma using her own curriculum, he was able to draw Ma and Lisa onside.
Grade ten and eleven went well enough. There was the nagging inconvenience of continually trying to show how Lisa's learning fulfilled provincial requirements, but all in all, she was able to continue pursuing the studies they had taken great care to choose.
It wasn’t until grade twelve that Lisa began to feel the squeeze. This year began with the sure knowledge that she would be facing provincial exams, and what began as a small knot in her stomach, grew to a state of near-panic as the first-term exams approached. She found her work-load greatly intensified as she pored over old exams in an effort to become familiar with content, all the while trying to continue to learn as much as she could in each of her courses, a conviction she had made years ago. Now, in her final year, the last thing she wanted to do was put aside her rich learning program in order to fulfill technical requirements; but the personal cost was great. Between the long days with insufficient rest, and the stress caused by trying to achieve too much, Lisa came to the Christmas break pale and exhausted.
Visiting relatives and friends expressed concern, and when cousins arrived not only looking healthy but feeling confident about upcoming exams, Lisa quietly left the room. Not only did the guests zero in on what they called Lisa's academic handicap, but they quizzed Glenn who, casual and open about his aspirations, shared his zeal for medical research and his desire to pursue microbiology. By the end of the evening, what had begun as a chorus of concerned faces deteriorated into a tirade on home schooling. As Pa turned off the porch light at the departure of the last of his guests, all caring and loving people, he turned and leaned on the door jamb with a look of defeat.
Pa didn't sleep well that night, nor the next, and the day after Boxing Day, with no argument from Ma, he was on the phone, trying to find a high school for Glenn in the second semester. "Doesn't anybody work anymore?" he grumbled, slamming down the receiver on the last of a run of answering machines and heading out the door. Thwap! a burst of cold hit him on the back of the neck. He turned to see Glenn slip around the corner of the house. "Well that little..." he snorted, as he bent down to pick up a handful of snow. Another snowball whizzed over his head. A little league pitcher in his day, Pa was always up to a good snowball fight, and although Glenn was fast and almost as tall as he was, it was rare that Pa wasted a shot. After a battle that took them through the streets, across the park, and out into the woods, Pa and Glenn collapsed in a heap of laughter, breathlessly recalling the best of their antics of the past forty minutes. They rolled into the house soaking wet with their arms slung over one another's shoulders, hands swollen and numb, still chuckling over the highlights.
That night Pa slept very well. At breakfast he was quiet, but while the younger three cleared the table he caught Ma in his gaze. "You know, I saw something yesterday that scared me." Pa described the snowball fight that Ma had already heard about anecdotally, and she waited patiently to see if there was going to be something new. Pa's countenance changed. He recounted how, as they had crossed the park, a group of teens began to gather, obviously amused by the antics, but when Pa and Glenn crossed back on their way home, arms over shoulders, the reaction was not at all charitable in words or gestures. "And your niece and nephew were among them, even more cocky than on Christmas Day." "I was hoping Glenn wasn't hearing them, but if he was, he certainly wasn't letting it dampen his spirits." Pa glowed as he spoke of his eldest son, who at fifteen could not only enjoy a good snowball fight with his father, but embrace him all the way home, undaunted by the sneers of others.
Still sitting at the table, Pa slowly recounted the years with all the lessons they had learned about living together as a family, and the great learning projects, mostly initiated by Glenn, that had served to teach them all a great deal they could have never learned in school; in fact Ma and Pa never had. "I'm numb to think of how quickly I lost my confidence," he whispered, "one well-meaning, but misguided conversation was all it took to convince me we were failures." He paused for a long time. "Last night I looked carefully at the fruit of our years, both academically and personally, and I don't have any regrets. Sure, we wanted to do more with our kids, but it's better than wanting to do less."
They both smiled. "I don't care if it takes Glenn five years to get through high school," Pa affirmed, "he knows a lot more about History and Science than any other fifteen year old I know, he's already lined up an online Math course to get him over the bumps, and he has the discipline to work hard on whatever else he needs. Whether or not it's the most direct route to university, he's staying right here." Pa's forefinger made a distinct dent in the padded tablecloth.