I graduated high school 25 years ago this month. I will spare you the jokes about how old I am because, frankly, I don’t feel all that old. I do feel seasoned, if only lightly so.
School, for me, was a sanctuary. I took great pains to assure that my home life not bleed into my school life. I even fooled myself into thinking I was successful at such blatant compartmentalization, mostly because I could lose myself in the mundane comfort of teen drama and a tenacious drive to excel academically.
My social experience was a bit picot-trimmed, holes in a few areas, but mostly simple, sweet, and practical. I was not in the popular crowd, though I had a lot of friends. I did not attend parties for the most part, nor was I a recluse. I was neither jock nor cheerleader. I was, however, heavily involved in student government and school plays. I didn’t really date, though not for a lack of interest on my part. But I was a good listener, vivacious and funny, and people either enjoyed my company or they found me annoying. I’m not sure much has changed in that respect.
People who hear stories of my school journey often point out the irony that, given such a positive experience, we would want to homeschool our children. Of course, our choice to homeschool isn’t in any way a reaction to our own educational careers — though HotNerd can tell a few painful stories of what it was like to favor computer code over football games and theatre tech over performance during those tender teen years.
The truth is that the most valuable component of my education was the teachers themselves, a gift our children receive in abundance while homeschooling. Moreover, my kids get to develop deeper relationships with their teachers, as we continue with some for multiple years (instruments, art, etc.) and socialize with others and their kids on a regular basis. It very much feels like they have multiple versions of adults after which to model their own futures. This comforts me. I don’t want them growing up to be exactly like me, especially when it comes to my stubborn streak. Or my inability to make a decent pancake.
I do hope that the adults who journey with my family as we learn together are as influential to my children as my teachers were to me.
