Our challenges with school began when our oldest son was in preschool. He was enrolled in Montessori school, and at the time, we believed it was the best choice for him. Everyday at pick-up, however, I received a string of negative reports. Not only was it frustrating, it also began to affect our relationship. I subconsciously internalized these reports as a sign that I was failing as a mother, while feeling that something was wrong with my child.
We suspected that ADHD along with other social and behavioral challenges were at play, but we felt stuck. We were at the best school, right? What else could we do?
We continued to seek tools and resources to best help him, and felt like this educational approach was better that private or public school. Time passed, and it was time to transition to a new grade and classroom. However, the negative reports continued to roll in. While I tried to navigate them respectfully and with curiosity, after a while, anger bubbled inside me.
Startling information I learned in early childhood development class lingered the back of my mind. The words from scientific articles and textbooks I studied in college while pursuing my Psychology degree, found their way from my stored memory center to the front of my brain.
By the time a child is 8-years-old, they have established their concept of self, and who they are.* This self-understanding is highly reflective of other people’s perceptions of them.
Therefore, if a 5-7 year-old child has a teacher that criticizes him constantly, and regularly gives his parent negative reports in front of him, he begins to develop the view of himself that he is “bad”. Knowing this, I felt sirens going off in my brain. Panic set in as I realized the path we were headed down was detrimental to his development, education and mental health.
The day I stood up to my child’s bully…
Finally, I asked his teacher, “Tell me something good that Liam did today.” She had no answer. She fumbled her words but nothing came out. I followed with, “I get a negative report every single day. You give me details of everything that went wrong. Then, when I ask what went well, you have nothing to say. This tells me you spend the day only pointing out what he does wrong. This tells me you never praise him for what he does right. And I refuse to believe that my child does nothing right. That is absurd.”
I followed with, “Imagine your boss criticizes you all day. Then, at the end of your work day, she gives you a report with everything you did wrong. No good feedback – just a list of your problems. It would make you feel pretty bad about yourself. I bet you’d feel like you were incapable of doing anything right. Well, Liam is a small child and feels ten times worse.” The next day, I withdrew him from the school. Though he only attended for 3 weeks, they gladly kept his scholarship tuition for the entire year.
Our journey to find the right educational path for our son was a struggle. We tried various schools, environments, and teachers, but none seemed to be the right fit. I watched as the light in his eyes slowly faded. The light in me was fading too.
Our new path wasn’t going so well.
We found the best fit for him at that time to be public school. At least he couldn’t be kicked out, which meant his teacher would have to invest in his success instead of finding reasons why he couldn’t be in her class. I spent a lot of time volunteering, bringing snacks and doing what it took for him to be “liked” by his school. That’s sad, isn’t it?
One day, while I was having lunch with him, some children nearby told me, “We’re not his friend.” Sweet Liam seemed unaware, as he focused on enjoying the brownie I had brought as a special treat. In less than 20 minutes, his teacher was yelling that lunch was over, and I watched as the children scrambled to gather their things and shove the last bit of their lunch in their little mouths. Liam was cared for by his teacher, but his Kindergarten classmates were unkind to him. While I do not blame the children, the fact remained that they were also contributing to how he viewed himself.
That day, I realized we had to find another option. Homework followed in the evening, and as we both sat at the dining room table with tears in our eyes, I knew this couldn’t be helping his sense of self. As we looked at the list of 10 words that needed to be turned into sentences, I felt stress hormones course through my body. “Just write it!” I exclaimed, with no patience or energy left within me. This 2-hour fiasco cut into dinnertime which quickly became bath time and bedtime routines. At 9:30 p.m. I felt like I had been hit by a truck and there were still lunches to pack and papers to sign.
Homeschooling became the only choice.
I spent hours each day Googling other options, and homeschooling was the last of them. But, a few months into researching and interviewing other schools, the pandemic hit. That’s when I finally withdrew my sweet boy from school. Failed attempts at virtual schooling and many tears and arguments were the final push. I still have the screenshot and selfie on my phone from the day I sent in my Notice of Intent, despite his teacher’s plea for me to keep him enrolled. It was a decision that changed the course of our lives.
We were thrusted into a world of homeschool curriculum, home education philosophies, nature study, wooden learning things and books galore. I spent countless hours (and money) researching the best way to teach my children, the best philosophies, how to paint my own peg dolls, which curriculum to use for Language Arts, who Charlotte Mason is, and how to get my children to listen to me.
We found Morning Time, Morning Baskets, Poetry Tea Time, nature journals and wooden ten frames adorned with wooden acorns. We read Little House in the Big Woods, Winnie-the-Pooh, Charlotte’s Web and Aesop’s Fables. A nature table found its place in our home, and we never looked at leaves, rocks, bug carcasses or pinecones the same again. I ordered the popular curriculums, and they served us during our early season. I bought too many books and fell in love with nature study and classic literature. I was never quite sure I was doing the right thing. To be honest, I don’t think we’re ever 100% sure. But I did realize we made the right decision.
What began as a year of temporary homeschooling turned into a new lifestyle for our family. We began homeschooling to ensure my children had a positive sense of self, but continued because it turned into a lifestyle that enables our family to truly thrive.
I will never question others who choose a different path than me; but more importantly, I will not question myself and the path we’re on. And that level of certainty feels so good.
If you homeschool, I’d love to hear why you started in the comments!
References:
Marsh, H. W., Craven, R. G., & Debus, R. (1991). Self-concepts of young children 5 to 8 years of age: Measurement and multidimensional structure. Journal of Educational Psychology, 83(3), 377–392. https://doi.org/10.1037/0022-0663.83.3.377
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