{how & why of homeschool}
Today begins our 5th year homeschooling. I type that with a bewildered yet peaceful capacity encompassing my heart. The oxymoronic state of this status is proof that purpose is anything but ad hoc.
Bright twangy,marigold school buses hover hustle by our home. Each day come August-May they carry growing bodies to learn. For recess and for center time. For square pizza with fried okra and chocolate milk cubes. They'll take spelling tests and have reading programs and tornado drills. Fire safety classes too. And my boys don't know the likes of any of that.
They know home. Books. Read aloud days & nature walk afternoons. Book publishing and computer navigation self-prompted and Mama guided. They feel freedom and know expectations. They are in pursuit of learning more about a job well done. How it looks, better yet, how it feels.
They above image is how we will begin our day. Our very first day. Curriculum is still boxed. The ipad is charged. The stacks of our necessities are nearby and waiting. Today begins our journey of attitude. Today we'll talk about passion and what our best looks like. How prayer moves our muscles for more and why our steps are important not only in the happy, but just as much in the hard. Today we will settle into feeling.
We'll hike. We'll write. We'll read. A new box of 96 crayons, not to mention a very fantastic set of FIFTY colored pencils WITH SHARPENER, well, they need our attention too. They are worth celebrating. The colors. The new untouched hues. The perfect points and the sideways shaves just the same. Eli has his last book in a 4 set series arriving from Amazon to our home today. He's already asked for some extended reading time just as soon as it makes its appearance on our front doorstep. Casey wants help drawing football players. I have my work cut out for me.
Why? Why choose home, Meghan? Why are you depriving them of square pizzas with fried okra and chocolate milk cubes? Why aren't you giving them the opportunity to learn criss-cross applesauce. To feel the presence of friends surrounding them and a to know a teacher other than yourself?
The longer we homeschool, the more frequently I field these questions. Some are just out & out direct with their disdain in our decision. Some shake their heads and offer up, "Shew, I could never do it. My kids would get on my last nerve if I had to be around them all the time." Others want to inquire more about why I feel that public school isn't good enough for my kids. Then there are others who want to tell me what I need to do. "Kids need to be in school, Meghan. It's the right way to do things. It's normal. Good for their growing up."
To each of these emotionally sabotaged offerings, I bleed out a bit more internally in a sense. And then I do what I know best. I settle into feeling. I remind myself of the journey I'm on. The one called attitude. And I think on passion. And how important my steps are in the happy and the hard. To field these questions with appropriate & best would be this response: my purpose is anything but ad hoc.
Kenny and I decide yearly, through prayer & planning, what is best for our boys and our family. We are not burdened by the public school system, but to better put it, delighted and thankful for the opportunity we have to invest more intimately in our children. Investment, for our family, for this 5th year, looks like homeschool. It looks like extra reading sessions. Writing workshop. New colors tested and rocks skipped on our hikes by the lake.
To be fair, it looks like happy and hard. And very much so important. That's just exactly what we're all after when it really gets down to it. The being different part--to choose public, private or home-- as the adjective before school is that box of 96 crayons. Opposite in color & hue yet each completely capable of creating their kinda beautiful when put to use.
I want to exercise this space as a place to celebrate home. To document our happy and our hard. I am not gifted in organization or in great scope & sequence school planning. But I can give out hope & honesty like a champ. It is my intent to chronicle our journey here once a week. I want to remind myself and others that when your purpose is anything but ad hoc exciting things can happen. Overwhelming failures can too. This is true for school no matter what adjective nestles in beside it.
Today begins. We pursue a job well done. A little more, we'll find it. Best, we'll feel it. In both the hiccups & the hallelujahs, our journey of attitude is here & now. I can hardly wait to peel those crayons naked and get down to some good ole fashioned color making. Eli won't talk to me for a week. Casey will be all about it. Aw, here.we.go.
.mac :)
