With all my hopes and ideals pushed aside, I look at myself in the mirror and ask sincerely:
"Why on earth would you want to keep this kid at home? Are you crazy?"
There go my grand ideals of family unity and understanding crushed by a screaming, impetuous 9 year old. Fears of years to come fill my heart like a dark and heavy mass of crude oil which drowns life from anything it touches in a devastating ocean spill. Never mind the doubt of not knowing if this crazy idealistic notion of mine will work out. Sometimes if feels like I am alone between a rock and a hard place. School has made it so hard for me to homeschool my daughter, in so many ways. I hate living in a society where a young person's worth is judged by the grades they get, the school they attend, the possessions they have, the clothes they wear. It is all around us from coast to coast and it is inescapable.
I have heard horror stories from my non-homeschooling friends about homeschool children who end up hating their parents and barely talking to them as grown ups. I have heard stories of brilliant 45 year old homeschoolers who never left home and still work endlessly on elaborate projects in the basement because they cannot hold a job. I have heard stories of the neighbor's kids who were in and out of school, and only the ones who went to school the most turned out somewhat "normal". The rest are druggies and failures.
The problem for me is that I like the people who tell me these stories. Should I still call them my friends after they share their valuable anecdotes with me? Should I share my stories of school kids slashing their wrists because they don't get an A in a test? or the one about the girl who killed herself by running into the highway after school because her boyfriend dumped her? Should I share the stories of kids who are bullied and are made to feel worthless by their peers on a daily basis? or the one of the girl who was beaten by other girls near to death with a bat as a sport for being the "different"one? Or the story about the bored school boys who beat a hard working immigrant to death while sitting at a park bench? Should I tell them that these children thought their actions were amusing enough to tape and post on "YouTube"?
Would they still like me and have me over to their house as I do if I point straight at the failures of the system they have chosen to be a part of? Do I need to be part of that system to be recognized as a thoughtful and feeling individual in their eyes? I am sure they would excuse those incidents as freak occurrences that their children would never experience. Why then do they tell me their homeschooling stories with foreboding warning tones in their voices?
One of my non-homeschooling friends already warned me (when my daughter was seven years old), of her strong character, independent mindset and desire to experiment with the unknown. Apparently our daughter is doomed by her own nature. Thanks friend, but I don't happen to see those things as downfalls.
I know that the survival instinct in humans is augmented by fear. So I can't help to ask myself: what am I most afraid of?
The product of a regimented, institutionalized "people factory" system or the product of my own mistakes? What drives me to want to homeschool my child tomorrow, after a day like today? Is this a mistake?
It seems like life would be so much easier if she just went to school. She could play to be busy all day, blend in with the sassy crowd and come home to talk about other girls who are not like her. She would be accepted at camp as a regular girl by her peers, not a weird "homeschooler". She would "fit in" to everyone else's standards, would go to tutoring services when she has a problem in school and to camp whenever she is off from school. I would have a clean house, other adults to talk to in a somewhat interesting job, time to myself, money for a maid service, or a dance class... Then reality sets in.
It has been a hard day in a hard week of a hard month and a hard year. We've had more than enough of those to spare around here lately.
Sometimes this lonely path is not easy to follow. Sometimes it seems like every step hurts more than the previous one and I just want to stay put and not walk anymore.
Sometimes I just need someone that I like to give me a hug, pat me on the back and say "It will be OK. She's wonderful, you're doing great. She'll be OK."
I miss you more than you can imagine my dear friend.
