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To school or not

05.12.10 | homeschool | 21 Comments

Last week I got a call that excited me almost more than my college admission letter fifteen years ago. Susan had won the lottery to go to our local charter school. I know people who’ve been applying ever since they moved out here, six years ago, to this school. So it really was quite a stroke of luck, especially since Susan got one of the fifty kindergarten spots, which are usually filled by siblings of kids already in. Sally’s now in the sibling lottery pool for the fourth grade, and has a good chance of getting in this fall or the next.

Only, she doesn’t want to. She loves her own school, which is already the fourth elementary school she has attended (because of our moves), and a fine school, as schools goes. A couple weeks ago, as I filled out time requests for next year at the regular school (morning kindergarten for Susan, B Track (an hour later than A Track and more aligned with the kindergarten schedule) for Sally, she begged me to let her stay on A Track, which starts at 8 and gets out at 2:15. It’s a nice schedule since she is so self-sufficient about making her lunch and pouring her cereal if I’m not up in time to make something warm. We both like how early she gets home in the afternoon. But I told her I can’t be coordinating that many different schedules and carpools, especially with the new baby coming.

Then I told her, if she hates being at school so late in the day, we could try a half-day, something allowed in Utah by law, though I’ve never seen anyone do it. Sally doesn’t know anyone who does that, either, so she said it must not really exist. I told her she could homeschool for awhile if she’d like to try that, and she said no one does that either, so she can’t, and besides, how would she ever learn what she needs to know if she doesn’t go to school?

This was the week before the third grade standardized testing, and I tried to counter the propaganda from her teacher by telling her that those tests are measures of how good the teachers are at getting you to memorize certain things that a person far away thinks you should know, and not indicators of how smart you are or what you know or what you’re interested in. (Though they’re both, maybe; I am not against standardized testing, per se, mostly because it was always good to me.)

I even suggested that we see if she could go at the B Track time (when Susan’s kindergarten starts) and then come home at A Track time (which would shave 75 minutes off her school day). And she said, but that’s when we read! I have to go then, otherwise I’ll never get to read.

This from the child who won’t put her book down long enough to eat, except at dinner time, when she’s required to conversate.

I really didn’t know what to say. I thought when we got rid of our TV months ago that we’d have all this extra time (the kids watch approximately one movie a week now, on Friday or Saturday night), but instead, all that time is filled with playing and reading and more playing. There’s no extra time, and I can’t imagine how they ever had time for TV before. (I still have time for TV on hulu, because somehow adult time and kid time are different. Or because I’m in denial/stupid. Whichever.)

But mostly I wanted to tell her that every word coming out of her mouth made me more and more convinced that homeschooling (if only for a few years) would be the best possible thing for her, because here she is, nine years old, and completely brainwashed that if she doesn’t go where she’s “supposed to” and do what she’s told to do at the “right” time by the “right” authority figure in the “right” setting, she won’t be able to learn.

Damn and Hell and five other swear words.

Part of this is semantics. Sally cooks with me and gardens with me and writes stories for her sisters and builds lego towns and roller skates with the neighbor kids and steps in to help Spot change her pants when I’ve lost all patience because the pants she’s wearing are not too big for her and we’re late for the dentist already so JUST GET IN THE CAR.

In April we stayed at my parent’s house for the weekend and Sally spent two days making felt dolls and clothes with fabric, markers, lace, ribbon, and a hot glue gun. When she got tired of dressing dolls for everyone in the family, she got into the real fabric scraps and made pinafores for Susan and Spot and a pieced shirt and skirt outfit for herself. She didn’t tell me until later about the blisters she’d gotten from the hot glue because she didn’t want me to make her stop.

Sewing is a big mystery to me, and the idea of just cutting some fabric and making something without a pattern baffles me at the same time that it tells me there’s hope for Sally. Which is why I’ll stop pressing the merits of the charter school for now, and drop the matter of tracks at the other school for now, and instead make plans to teach her a course of math this summer. Because it’s her least favorite subject and I want to change that, and because I want to show her that our kitchen table is actually a great place to learn.

totally unrelated, but fun to read

21 Comments

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