Freedom and Music

11/16/09: I've been thinking a lot about this situation since it happened last week, realizing I was overly enthusiastic about the use of sarcasm as a tool for interacting with others. When I wrote the post, I was still steaming about the bullying, and as I've calmed down, I've realized that sarcasm, while it may make me feel better in the short term, is not a strategy for conflict resolution. It is also not what I want to teach my children about how to get along with their neighbors, and friends, and relations - nor is it really in my personality to use it in a fight. (As a friend said today, "I thought to myself when I read your post, 'this is not my gentle Karen!'" So, please take this post with a grain of salt and know that while I may use sarcasm once in a while, and mostly with people who know me well and know that it's in a joking sense, it can hurt - and I am not about hurting.

We play baseball every week on a field nearby - although, now that the weather is turning, we've been meeting for "baseball" which is more of an all-purpose park day, with perhaps a baseball-related game played at some point, by some people.

Even though now it's just "baseball," we've kept it at the same field instead of rotating around, partly out of habit but also because the kids want to check in on their fairy houses, there are open and clean bathrooms (yay!), and it's really just a great park.

Which made this week's experience all the more upsetting.

It is easy to forget, while our kids are out in the world absorbing life firsthand instead of stuck in school, worrying about test scores, tired from being hauled out of bed at ungodly hours, hungry for something better than standard cafeteria fare, and feeling trapped, that our kids are the exception. It is also easy to forget that the frustration of dealing with school pressures day after day produces children who tease, and bully, and do whatever they can to make themselves feel better than somebody.

Earlier this week, worlds collided when schoolchildren, granted early release for a day, came to "our" playground to play too. They came with parents who frowned at us for allowing our kids the freedom to range, and climb trees, and just have less supervision than they think kids should have. But their kids' behavior was really the kicker - lots of "ohhh, you're homeschooled!" and tinkering with the rules of kickball to favor only the schooled kids. Lots of teasing and mean-spiritedness, the kind of behavior that we fortunately don't see very much of, very often.

We lasted an hour or so before calling it quits. The vibe was upsetting, but it wasn't until we were in the car that I heard about the true extent of the teasing, which verged on bullying. And it left me marveling at the anger and vitriol that sits just beneath the surface of seemingly average-looking schoolchildren.

I also marveled at how different Luke is now, from when he was in school (we took him out two years ago, almost to the day). Although upset at how he and his friends were treated, he didn't take it personally as he used to. He spoke almost empirically about what was said and done. He viewed what was happening, even while it was happening, with an eye unclouded by the resentment and anger that he used to feel about being part of that system.

He was only irritated by one thing: that he "wasn't able to get a word in to defend myself!" We talked of how, throughout our lives, we will meet people who try to hurt us to make themselves feel better.

And I shared with Luke my secret weapon: sarcasm.

So help me, I coached him in using sarcasm to fight back when somebody teases him about being a homeschooler. Together we came up with snappy comebacks like "yeah, it is really awful, learning about what you want, when you want." Or, "I just hate still being in bed when your bus goes by." And, "I know you feel sorry for me, freedom stinks."

I don't really use sarcasm very often - out loud, anyway. And I do worry that he'll end up fist-fighting with a bully, or something worse, but I want Luke to be able to defend himself verbally. Owen too, when he is a bit older. Because it is true that in life, we do meet people who try to hurt us. It's good to not take it personally, and it is good to try to understand where that person is coming from, but it is also necessary to protect oneself from a bully.

Later, we comforted ourselves with our newly acquired They Might Be Giants album, Here Comes Science. Susan at In The Kitchen put me on to it, and it came along at just the right time for Luke, Owen, and me. Not only is the album wonderful, classic They Might Be Giants - great music combined with silly rhymes that make you stop and think - the topic of science is of great interest in our house.

And so it was that music about science took us away from feelings of sadness and brought us back into the world of fun -

we made a volcano! We used the easy directions in this great book, Science Wizardry for Kids.

And, since no volcano scene is complete without a comet, Owen provided one:

Here it is erupting:

They made it erupt repeatedly, squealing with joy every time and trying out different combinations of baking soda and vinegar. And, while they worked together, I noticed so much learning and socialization going on that it made me think about the difference between schooled and homeschooled kids once more.

Watching them at work made me so glad that we homeschool.

Take Me Out to the Ballgame

For about a month now, we've gotten together with ten or so homeschool families to play pick-up baseball once a week. It's been awesome.

From pick up baseball

From pick up baseball

The kids range in age from four to fifteen, and I'm continually amazed at the patience and kindness of the older ones to the younger ones, and the capacity for understanding the game and tenacity of the younger ones.

From pick up baseball

From pick up baseball

They don't know all the rules (or, sometimes, practically any), but they take coaching very well, and their joy at just being on the field is palpable.

From pick up baseball

From pick up baseball

From pick up baseball

From pick up baseball

From pick up baseball

We started pick-up baseball because we wanted an inexpensive, low-key way for the kids to play ball, but it's become something more, now, at least for me.

It's the embodiment of good socialization; when the kids get frustrated, friends help them out. When the facilitator (me) gets a back injury, other parents take over. When the town in which the field is located tells us they need money (oddly, for reasons of 'liability'), participants step up in such numbers that it ends up only costing $10 per family for two months of baseball. When these kids' parents who work outside the home want a day off, several of them choose pick-up baseball day.

It's not just baseball anymore. It's a community.

Community

Since November, when we became a homeschooling family, our non-homeschooling relatives and friends have worried about our kids' academics and, more importantly, their socialization. How in heck do homeschooled kids meet anybody, or have a life?

While we keep in touch with (and see, as often as possible!) our non-homeschool buddies, we essentially make our own community. This has become the best and most important aspect to homeschooling, one sure to be explored in future posts.

But, that's not how I percieved it would be back when we were considering homeschooling as a viable option. Back when Luke melted down daily in his 2nd-grade class, woke up screaming nearly every night with the most awful night terrors, and went off to school in the morning with the look of a child falling down a well in slow motion.

Back then, I wanted to get him out of school only so that he could regain his confidence, stop his own inner implosion.

As good as homeschooling has been for Luke, I would argue that we are better off now - all of us - than when he was in school. Here's why:

1) We run on our own schedule.

This gives us time for luxuries such as Luke's favorite, breakfast in bed. Ironically, the breakfast-in-bed mornings are the easiest days to get him out of the house. It's as if feeling he has all the time in the world somehow gives him... all the time in the world.

2) We learn in a non-linear way, and our curriculum choices are arranged so that we can enter wherever we want, learn specifially about what we want (Pi? Metrics? Puzzles? The original Greek Olympics? The Clone Wars?) - and then move on.

As the grandpa says in The Princess Bride, "When I was your age, television was called books!"

Much of our learning begins with or is supported by copious reading. Without school, Luke has the time to read - and best of all, he chooses what to read; this is Chaucer's Canterbury Tales interpreted for kids.

Did you know that you can get balloons to do this over a humidifier? Sometimes when I walk by there'll be two balloons floating around up there, and once there were even three.

3) Often, community and learning intersect - we're at the library all the time to browse, take classes (anything from Kitchen Science to the Chinese New Year), research subjects of interest, and meet up with friends.

I'm learning new stuff, too - blogging is a brand-new thing for me, as is learning the guitar. After 3 months, I'm beginnng to realize what it means to be in a homeschooling family; learning is a state of being, and not just for kids.

Also, I've learned that "homeschooling" is a misnomer; it's about a lot more than home. We feel more embedded in our community now than ever before, because the community is of our choosing.

I hope that this blog will mark the starting point of a new community, one in which we debate ideas, gain friends, and come to a new understanding of humanity, and technology.

Karen