What comes to many people’s minds when they think of homeschooling?
I was certainly of the opinion, until fairly recently, that homeschooling wasn’t a completely viable or healthy form of education. How could everyday parents adequately replace teachers who have years of training and experience for educating children? How can a homeschooling environment give children the invaluable learning opportunities available in regular schools such as drama productions, school bands, science labs, and student council? And the biggest argument against homeschooling: home-schooled children will be deprived of important social interaction with their peers.
But when my daughter’s love of school began to fade, I began to look at this institution from a new perspective. We had conversations about what she liked and didn’t like, what she found frustrating, and what was changing in her education as she transitioned from elementary to middle school. I wanted her to enjoy school, and I wanted to enjoy my job as a teacher. Indeed, it was my job to make sure school was enjoyable for kids.
We both probably contributed to each other’s downward spiral in terms of our respective attitudes towards school. Her unhappiness at school added to my list of job frustrations as a teacher, and I’m sure my frustrations -which were impossible to hide- fed her unhappiness. I witnessed a multitude of ways that the school and teachers were failing and stifling her, and I came home feeling defeated and guilty every day with the knowledge that I wasn’t able to give my students the time, experiences, and learning environment that they needed and craved.
I was miserable in my teaching job, even perched on the edge of depression. So I left.
Now I had the opportunity to rescue my daughter from the same misery since I no longer had to go to work every day. I didn’t want to be too hasty and force homeschooling on her if she preferred to be at school, so she began the school year in September as normal to see if a summer’s rest and a new beginning would make things better.
It didn’t take long before she was coming home grumpy, whining about homework (or just not doing it), and beginning each school day with dread. She came home one day with both knees badly battered and skinned from a PE class accident. She wouldn’t be able to attend school for a couple of days, and I saw this as our opportunity to take a tentative dip into homeschooling.
Firstly, she was able to begin the day at a more suitable hour for adolescents’ circadian clock. She likes creative writing, and rarely gets opportunities to do so at school, so I suggested she write a personal narrative of the accident that punished her knees. She gladly accepted the challenge, and sat outside on the garden patio happily focussed on the task for over an hour. She had the freedom to write as long as she wanted, with no pressure to finish within a prescribed timeframe, and took a break when she wanted. It was the right setting in terms of tranquility, proximity to nature, and absence of stress that allowed her ideas and creativity to flow.
When it came time to do some math, I expected some resistance. My daughter cringes and tenses up at the mere thought of doing math. Math classes, under the scrutiny of teachers and peers, have left her feeling inadequate and insecure in her abilities. I showed her the math text I had purchased over the summer (just in case) and how the programme worked. We discussed the first lesson, worked through some examples and comprehension questions, and she set off to complete all the exercises without complaint. “I like this kind of math,” she announced. Feelings of relief and disbelief washed over me at the sound of these words. “Really?” I asked to confirm.
It was a happy revelation. She could do math -and do it happily given the right circumstances: a relaxed environment with no time pressure and no judgement from teachers and peers. Maybe homeschooling could actually be the right thing.
We spent the next couple of days doing lessons at home. I gained much clearer insight into how my daughter learned, and what her strengths and weaknesses were. It forced me to consider homeschooling carefully. I could see its possibilities and clear advantages, but I was still scared and harboured doubts.
When her injury had healed sufficiently to warrant her returning to school, I thought I’d attempt part-time homeschooling. My daughter would attend school for the classes that had meaning and value to her, and would be home-schooled the rest of the time. I didn’t want to throw the baby out with the bath water, and I wasn’t sure I could do as good a job in some subjects such as art and science where I didn’t have the equipment or facilities at home. Apart from the driving to and fro, it was a good arrangement. My daughter was much happier and relaxed. We enjoyed spending this extra time together, and I got to know her much better as a learner.
We continued with this part-time homeschooling arrangement for over a month, and got into a nice routine. I was able to give her support in her areas of difficulty, and she enjoyed being able to learn and work at her own pace. My daughter had a much improved attitude towards academic learning with much of the pressures associated with attending school removed. She especially liked being able to focus more on the skills and subjects she enjoyed. Her learning had more purpose , and thus, she put more into it.
From a teaching perspective, this homeschooling experiment taught me a lot about how people learn.
Firstly, being compared with others doesn’t help anyone’s learning, motivation, or creativity. This holds true whether you are comparing yourself to others, or someone else is doing it for you. Regardless of whether it’s a classroom or workplace setting, supervisors are constantly -consciously or not- ranking and comparing their charges. They make note of which ones are high, medium, and low in the required skills and quality of work; which ones work better or worse in groups; who is the smartest, and who needs the most help. When you’re constantly comparing yourself, or being compared to others, you lose sight of who you are. Your self-knowledge suffers. And without self-knowledge, you will not know how to make yourself happy.
We learn best at our own pace and according to our own schedule. As Alfie Kohn, an author and lecturer on education and human behaviour states, “Real learning takes time. Learning, not the schedule, real learning -not the coverage of a pre-fabricated curriculum- matters the most.” The education system confines students to an imposed, rigid, schedule: children should be reading by 6, adding fractions by 10, deciding a career path at 15. If they don’t conform to this timeline, they are labeled as either gifted or slow. Students are tied to a prescribed schedule which dictates, for example, two periods of art and 5 periods of math per week, a recess at 10:15, and so on. These schedules are designed to suit the priorities of a corporate-centric, consumer society as they emphasize subjects such as science, economics, math, and language, and are less suited to the developmental and social needs of children or to children’s individual aptitudes. This makes learning less enjoyable, less efficient. We can’t learn and perform at our best when we’re rushed and pressured to keep up with others and to someone else’s schedule. The same rules apply if we’re bored, forced to keep pace with some that may be struggling or unmotivated, or forced to do something that we find uninspiring. When people are given some autonomy in what they want to work on, when they want to do it, and for how long, productivity increases as does the quality of work. If we work in tune with ourselves -our rhythms, our strengths, our passions- then work, consequently, dissolves into play.
A person needs to be educated for one’s environment and passions. Subjects that serve higher importance and relevance to a person’s everyday life should be prioritized. We are naturally motivated to learn the needed skills to survive in our environment. A city dweller will learn how to read train and bus schedules. A farm girl will learn how to read the emotional states of animals. If a child wants to sell friendship bracelets, he or she will learn how to calculate the needed lengths of string, measure it, add up expenses and sales, and make change. Having a garden will prompt a person to learn horticulture and agriculture. And we are naturally motivated to become skilled in what we love to do. A person who loves to construct would be wasting his/her time and energy sitting down learning Shakespeare. When learning is relevant -to our surroundings as well as our passions- it takes flight and helps us thrive in our environment.
We can’t truly learn and be creative when there is fear and judgement. Trusting, caring relationships are key to learning. As Rita Pierson, in her excellent TedTalk says, “Kids don’t learn from people they don’t like.” Unfortunately, my daughter had an English teacher that was a very disagreeable person, to put it politely. This teacher’s strategy was to use intimidation and fear to motivate students to do their work. My daughter loves to read and write, but her fear of this woman and the way she ran her classes snuffed out most of her confidence and enjoyment of this very important subject. People must feel safe in all respects in order to learn and create. They must feel safe to take risks and make mistakes; safe to be themselves, to challenge, and to question.
And many do not feel entirely safe or free because of judgement. I cringe every time when my daughter says things like, “Do you think the teacher will like my project?” From an early age, we are conscious of the fact that the value and quality of our work is determined by others, usually our superiors. This knowledge of judgement makes us feel less inclined to follow our intuitions, ideas, or curiosities, and impedes our creativity. But this mindset is engrained, and in many ways, the way things work at school and in the work force. Even my blog writing falls victim to this. Even though I am writing this primarily for my own benefit, I am conscious that it is for public viewing and will be judged. Therefore, I am careful with my words and ideas, conscious of the reactions and opinions of my audience, and constrict the free flow of my thoughts and creativity.
So, I keep to my standard response to my daughter’s query, “It’s not important what the teacher or anyone else thinks of your work. What do YOU think of it?”
We mustn’t lose our ability to honestly reflect on and evaluate our own work and ideas. The creator is the only one who knows if the product is a personal best or not, who knows what aspects were particularly challenging, and what thought processes were responsible for certain features. The creator’s perspective on the product is the most valid and of greatest significance, and the skill of reflection is perhaps one of the most important to learn and practice.
Of course, it’s always beneficial to gain others’ perspectives. I ask other people to read my writing before I publish and ask for their reactions and suggestions. Notice that this kind of feedback is not a form of evaluation or cold judgement. It will neither give me an unhelpful grade, feed me empty praise, nor highlight the mistakes and weak points –and is by invitation only. I ask for feedback because I have a genuine desire to learn and improve, and I’m so invested in my creation that I want it to be the best that I can make it. After conducting my own thorough reflection on my work, I am ready to receive input from others. That’s how and when students should use and receive feedback on their products of learning.
Work and learning, in order to occur most effectively, should be play. Why do we have this mentality that if something is enjoyable, it’s not worthwhile or good for us? My students were most excited about learning, and indeed, learned the most when it was play. Why do most kids run and skip happily to elementary school, but drag their feet and groan when they go to middle school and high school? Yes, adolescence will play a part in the more sullen attitude, but take a look at their opportunities to play. They’re all but gone. No more playgrounds, no more math games, role plays, discovery stations. Where’s the fun in learning? Kids are stuck inside, at their desks, for hours on end with little time to move, play, or go outside – three key components for better brain function and emotional and physical well-being. The same applies to the workforce. People are more productive, take fewer sick days, and have a greater work ethic and job satisfaction in work environments where they have opportunities to take breaks when wanted, move around, and get outside.
Just like work, learning must be challenging, rewarding, and have purpose. The challenging work provides opportunities to try new things, make mistakes and persevere. This makes us grow and develop skills which, in turn, provides us with a steady stream of feelings of accomplishment. We are rewarded in the currency of our accomplishments, but also with the knowledge that our work or learning itself is achieving something worthwhile. Our work may be helping others, making a better world, or our learning may be giving us a very useful skill or knowledge in a topic of interest to us.
To get back to homeschooling, our education system should provide students with challenge, reward and purpose. It should teach kids how to discover and develop their passions and talents – whether they feed into the corporate model or not. It should let kids be themselves, free from judgement and imposed schedules and subjects of learning. It should teach them how to live healthy, happy, fulfilling lives. But it doesn’t. So homeschooling or even “unschooling” is a very attractive option to many who have the opportunity of time and finances.
My experiment with homeschooling opened my eyes to its many benefits as well as to its challenges. I thought I’d be able to carry on with my work and “To Do List” as normal while my daughter did her home studies. This wasn’t the case. Homeschooling is a full-time job that needs conscientious planning, commitment, and time set aside every day for it to work. It has wonderful potential for being flexible and spontaneous, but one does need a vision, a plan and set goals. Living in a foreign country, where the language and cultural barriers were significant, made finding social opportunities outside of school very difficult. This wouldn’t be a problem if we were living where those barriers didn’t exist. For most parents, homeschooling isn’t an option due to work and financial demands. I envy those parents who have found ways to give their children this marvellous opportunity to discover and blossom into their true selves. I have hope that those children will have the strength, skills and values that will contribute to our world where we need it the most: for peace, compassion and nature.