Why do you even ask? The Bitter Homeschooler’s Wish List

Okay, for the record, I would never actually SAY anything of these things.  Not out loud.  But I’ve thought a few of them, and agree with a few more.  16 and 18 are my particular favorites.  Maybe you’ll have a favorite of your own.  Anyway, I hope you find these funny or that they’ll give you a little food for thought.

Homeschooling is one of my favorite topics to talk about, and yet there’s a vast chasm between chatting about it with friends or genuinely interested acquaintances, and defending my personal family choices to nosy, bigotted strangers.  One is pleasant and informative for all sides.  The other is a frustrating waste of both our time that’s unlikely to change anyone’s opinion anyway. 

So, snicker for what these are worth.  Here’s the link http://www.secular-homeschooling.com/001/bitter_homeschooler.html to the original if you’re piqued to read more of Deborah’s thoughts.

The Bitter Homeschooler’s Wish List

By Deborah Markus, from Secular Homeschooling Magazine, Issue #1, Fall 2007

1 Please stop asking us if it’s legal. If it is — and it is — it’s insulting to imply that we’re criminals. And if we were criminals, would we admit it?

2 Learn what the words “socialize” and “socialization” mean, and use the one you really mean instead of mixing them up the way you do now. Socializing means hanging out with other people for fun. Socialization means having acquired the skills necessary to do so successfully and pleasantly. If you’re talking to me and my kids, that means that we do in fact go outside now and then to visit the other human beings on the planet, and you can safely assume that we’ve got a decent grasp of both concepts.

3 Quit interrupting my kid at her dance lesson, scout meeting, choir practice, baseball game, art class, field trip, park day, music class, 4H club, or soccer lesson to ask her if as a homeschooler she ever gets to socialize.

4 Don’t assume that every homeschooler you meet is homeschooling for the same reasons and in the same way as that one homeschooler you know.

5 If that homeschooler you know is actually someone you saw on TV, either on the news or on a “reality” show, the above goes double.

6 Please stop telling us horror stories about the homeschoolers you know, know of, or think you might know who ruined their lives by homeschooling. You’re probably the same little bluebird of happiness whose hobby is running up to pregnant women and inducing premature labor by telling them every ghastly birth story you’ve ever heard. We all hate you, so please go away.

7 We don’t look horrified and start quizzing your kids when we hear they’re in public school. Please stop drilling our children like potential oil fields to see if we’re doing what you consider an adequate job of homeschooling.

8 Stop assuming all homeschoolers are religious.

9 Stop assuming that if we’re religious, we must be homeschooling for religious reasons.

10 We didn’t go through all the reading, learning, thinking, weighing of options, experimenting, and worrying that goes into homeschooling just to annoy you. Really. This was a deeply personal decision, tailored to the specifics of our family. Stop taking the bare fact of our being homeschoolers as either an affront or a judgment about your own educational decisions.

11 Please stop questioning my competency and demanding to see my credentials. I didn’t have to complete a course in catering to successfully cook dinner for my family; I don’t need a degree in teaching to educate my children. If spending at least twelve years in the kind of chew-it-up-and-spit-it-out educational facility we call public school left me with so little information in my memory banks that I can’t teach the basics of an elementary education to my nearest and dearest, maybe there’s a reason I’m so reluctant to send my child to school.

12 If my kid’s only six and you ask me with a straight face how I can possibly teach him what he’d learn in school, please understand that you’re calling me an idiot. Don’t act shocked if I decide to respond in kind.

13 Stop assuming that because the word “home” is right there in “homeschool,” we never leave the house. We’re the ones who go to the amusement parks, museums, and zoos in the middle of the week and in the off-season and laugh at you because you have to go on weekends and holidays when it’s crowded and icky.

14 Stop assuming that because the word “school” is right there in homeschool, we must sit around at a desk for six or eight hours every day, just like your kid does. Even if we’re into the “school” side of education — and many of us prefer a more organic approach — we can burn through a lot of material a lot more efficiently, because we don’t have to gear our lessons to the lowest common denominator.

15 Stop asking, “But what about the Prom?” Even if the idea that my kid might not be able to indulge in a night of over-hyped, over-priced revelry was enough to break my heart, plenty of kids who do go to school don’t get to go to the Prom. For all you know, I’m one of them. I might still be bitter about it. So go be shallow somewhere else.

16 Don’t ask my kid if she wouldn’t rather go to school unless you don’t mind if I ask your kid if he wouldn’t rather stay home and get some sleep now and then.

17 Stop saying, “Oh, I could never homeschool!” Even if you think it’s some kind of compliment, it sounds more like you’re horrified. One of these days, I won’t bother disagreeing with you any more.

18 If you can remember anything from chemistry or calculus class, you’re allowed to ask how we’ll teach these subjects to our kids. If you can’t, thank you for the reassurance that we couldn’t possibly do a worse job than your teachers did, and might even do a better one.

19 Stop asking about how hard it must be to be my child’s teacher as well as her parent. I don’t see much difference between bossing my kid around academically and bossing him around the way I do about everything else.

20 Stop saying that my kid is shy, outgoing, aggressive, anxious, quiet, boisterous, argumentative, pouty, fidgety, chatty, whiny, or loud because he’s homeschooled. It’s not fair that all the kids who go to school can be as annoying as they want to without being branded as representative of anything but childhood.

21 Quit assuming that my kid must be some kind of prodigy because she’s homeschooled.

22 Quit assuming that I must be some kind of prodigy because I homeschool my kids.

23 Quit assuming that I must be some kind of saint because I homeschool my kids.

24 Stop talking about all the great childhood memories my kids won’t get because they don’t go to school, unless you want me to start asking about all the not-so-great childhood memories you have because you went to school.

25 Here’s a thought: If you can’t say something nice about homeschooling, shut up!

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Setting New Standards

I stumbled onto this profound quote this morning while reading a few homeschool jokes:

“How do you ever expect your children to fit into the world if you don’t institutionalize them, and you encourage them to develop advanced vocabularies and you teach them self-sufficiency. This does not coincide with the new way — they must follow the new standards.”

Mother looked at Mr. Pointy Nose thoughtfully. “I appreciate your apparent concern, kind sir,” she said, ” but you see, I am not raising children to follow standards — I am raising them to set standards.”

It comes from a pointed story written by Tammy Drennan, a Georgia homeschooler, and it simply jumped off the page at me. 

Feel free to read the whole story; it isn’t long, and it paints a lovely picture of a homeschooling family (though I admit that I neither make my own preserves nor listen to Beethoven, my children have certainly shocked people with their vocabulary as happens in this story).

http://home.neo.rr.com/edzoo/Homeschooling/mr%20pointy%20nose.htm

It’s an inspiration to me when people ask me how my children will fit in or meet public school standards of education.  We aren’t trying to meet the standards; we want to set new ones. 

Tiny, fluffy compassion

My husband has a theory that raising pets makes children more compassionate.

If this is true, I’m raising the next generation of Mother Teresas.

We’ve added yet another furry fluff of compassion to our ark…a dwarf hamster!

scuttle.jpg

Kind of a fuzzy picture, but he is a fast-moving blur.  I think our hamster has ADHD.  Appropriately, we’ve dubbed him with a verb for a name.  Scuttle.

He joins 2 parakeets, 2 cats (yes, the cats ADORE the birds and hamster…shudder), and the dogs.  Luckily, we’ve just sold the last of the Bassett puppies (oh, can you say CUTE! nothing but sad eyes and ears everywhere), so we aren’t completely overrun with compassion.