One of the children who used to live in our neighborhood has moved away and grown up and gone off to college...much to my amazement because she is still the adorable, bright eyed 3rd grader she used to be in my head. In a class she is taking, she was assigned the culture sub group of homeschoolers. She has asked for our participation in answering some questions and observing us for this project.
We are a cultural sub group.
It makes me laugh every time. I mean, it is so true and yet it is something I never thought about.
Should I tell her I am a trekkie as well? Part of me is tempted to go and purchase a long denim skirt to wear on the day she visits;)
Her first question is why we decided to homeschool. I figured, if I was going to type it out in an e-mail, I might as well double dip and put it here as well. It is probably the # 3 question get asked right behind #1) What are you going to do about High School? and #2) How do you put up with your children all day long?
Here is a recap of how it came about:
(Despite my best efforts to fix it - the spacing on this post is a bit odd from here on out.)
The short version - I realized the the private school (that the boys were attending) and the public school in our area did not provide the options I felt like David needed as a child diagnosed with Asperger's Syndrome. Despite what medical and educational professionals told me, I realized I was the person who was the most invested and informed about his abilities.
The long version - When David was in 2 year old preschool, we realized he was behind in vocabulary and other age appropriate skills. He was diagnosed at 4 with Autism. He went to speech and occupational therapy several times a week from the ages of 2 - 7. We had selected a school that the children could attend from preschool all the way to 12th grade when we enrolled them. There was even a preschool co-ordinater who helped children in the preschool program to assimilate into the classes if they had any special needs.
Preschool, over all, was a colossal failure for all of us. David just never adjusted. He heard every little sound in the room or he blocked it all out and lived in his own little world. We struggled with what to do. I mean, if he couldn't even sit in circle time and sing about a bear coming over a mountain, how would he ever be able to sit at a desk and learn to add? And if he couldn't do that, then how would he cope with changing classes one day and driving? And if that was a problem, then how on earth would he ever be able to manage his time in college or hold down a job? I had such a traditional, linear thought process about education that I equated not sitting at circle time to never living on his own or having a family or a job. It sounds ridiculous to say it in a few sentences like that, but it is an idea loop that a lot of parents have. I can defend that statement very well, but that is a digression for another day.
When it came time to apply for kindergarten, this same lady pulled me aside and told me something that was hurtful and yet, extremely helpful: there was no point in applying for David. The school had so many applicants, that they would not even consider a child in any sort of therapy. She told me as a kindness and I did really appreciate it. I am not even upset with the school. It is what it is.
A resource teacher from Fulton County schools was assigned to David. She came and observed him in his preschool class when he was 4. She came as many times as we requested and met with us for consultations. Her suggestion was that David should attend full day kindergarten instead of the half days I wanted to enroll him in. We should put him in the special needs classes and he should ride the bus (even though I wanted to drive him to school). We needed to put him in all of the sensory filled, abrasive environments we could so he would learn to cope with them.
She was thoughtful and invested in David. I appreciated her suggestions, but I went to my car and burst into tears. (It didn't help that I was very pregnant with little boy #3 on the emotional front.) I sat there and cried and cried.
And then I was done. It was as if a cloud lifted and the sun came out.
I would teach him at home. It was almost a choice left by default.
I understand the idea of putting him into abrasive environments and making him adapt. It reminded me of those swim class where you throw your baby into the deep end of the pool. Those children never drown and they learn to swim within a week. It is practical and designed to save lives. However, I didn't sign my kids up for that. I signed them up for swim lessons over a summer. I wanted them to have the skills so that when they got to the deep end of the pool, it was about enjoyment and not survival. That is the best way to explain my perspective on educating David. I wanted to give him the skills to handle the abrasive environments while dipping him into them in a controlled way.
Some people will tell you they are called by God to homeschool. That is super. I'd never tell non - homeschoolers that if it were my own story because that puts even more pressure on making the decision. I did, however, have a peace about it that I really can not attribute to anything emanating from within myself. I am not a peaceful person. I am tightly wound by nature and my imagination and self doubt tend to wind me up even more. As overwhelming as teaching him seemed to me, I still felt positive about the process. Some people are called by God to homeschool. I volunteered. I do attribute the peace I felt in the face of so many unknowns to the Holy Spirit.
I started homechooling David for kindergarten. I researched curriculum on line. I went to a homeschool event with speakers and curriculum. I overwhelmed myself with information. I second guessed myself. His pediatrician, grandparents and friends and therapists all thought this wasn't the best route (to varying degrees). Even with all this uncertainty, I knew 2 things: 1) This was the best thing for him even if I didn't have all the details figured out and 2) I was smarter than a kindergartner.
By November that year, Alex asked if he could come home and do school with us. He was super social in preschool and learning came easily to him. But he wanted to be with us and "do fun things with David."
Max never went to preschool.
I still wake up about 2 times a year, out of the dead of sleep, and wonder if I an messing up my kids by homeschooling them. I second guess myself at times. I worry. I pray. But instead of thinking that means I made the wrong choice, I realize that it is just parenting and being contentious. Every parent wonders if there child is reading on grade level, on the right baseball team or has the best teacher in their grade. The difference is that all those things fall on my shoulders instead of being spread over several people's skill sets. (O.k, not the baseball...but someone has to teach them kick ball and that someone would be me.)
David's change in stress level also lead to a new diagnosis: Asperger's Syndrome. For him, a classroom is like going to a restaurant where the music is a little bit too loud and trying to have a conversation with someone. You can do it, but it takes extra concentration and it wears you out. He does not love school. That was never my goal. While my version of school does not offer him everything a regular school would, I feel like it is the best educational process for him.
And that is the long version of why we homeschool.
