I have had the pleasure of speaking with homeschoolers all this week who are readying for the new school year. It is a time to re-examine curriculum choices, evaluate the needs and learning styles of the children, and even incorporate the next child more formally into the school day. Exciting stuff!
Some have gone to conventions, some belong to homeschool networks and support groups. Planning and implementing is in the forefront of their minds. Gaining perspective and understanding of how to put what is important first is the goal.
Overwhelmingly at the top of the list of importance is this radical notion that offends some and brings a deep sigh of relief to others. No matter the reaction, I have become convinced it is quite true.
This radical notion grabbing the hearts of homeschoolers is that the early elementary years—some would argue the entire elementary years—are not about academics at all. Academics at this age don’t matter.
‘What?’ You say. ‘But I spent all that money, I forced the kids to sit, to write, to read, to compute. What about the importance of the first five years?? If the first five are important, surely the first five school years are, too!’
Well, they are. But not because of academics. I am not suggesting you forbid your child from learning his math facts, how to write or how to read. Expose them, certainly, but expect nothing. Those lessons will be repeated time and again through their school careers, and I respectfully submit that you do not know how to read because you learned in the first grade (or earlier, or later). You know how to read because you continued to read throughout your life. You know how to compute figures because you do it now. And you may not be so good at it if you don’t do it now! What does that little nugget of truth reveal? We learn through exposure and repetition.
The focus and purpose of those early years are far more important than anything so trivial as one plus one equals two. Those first years of school teach love for learning—or not. They teach the child to see himself as a lifelong accomplished scholar—or not. The child learns she is important and loved unconditionally—or not. The child learns how to learn, what he is worth and how to behave. The scary thing is that they learn these things whether or not you are aware of it.
Consider this. Are there any subjects that you don’t like? Why is that? Because you aren’t good at them? Why not? You got bad grades as a kid? You weren’t exposed to enough lessons? You had a mean teacher? Or what about a cute guy or best friend sitting next to you in that class?
What does any of that have to do with grammar, or history or chemistry? Nothing! And yet it shaped how you feel about a subject and determined for you whether you are ‘good’ at it or not. I hope you see my point. What and how we learn has far more to do with environment and how we see ourselves fitting into that environment than just the academic facts with which we are presented.
When we as parents are watching the clock, the calendar and the checklist—and perhaps the Jones family next door—our focus is on performance and timeliness. The big lesson is, 'Get it done now.’ We get frantic and impatient. Our children interpret that as conditional love. “Everything will be ok when we do well. We must get good grades and sit still so that Mommy doesn’t turn scary.” (No peeking into my house, please.)
When we as parents are watching character, confidence and a sense of community, our focus is on equipping our children and timelessness. Our children experience that and know that how they behave and treat people is what matters. A good attitude with school and trying their best will be rewarded. Mistakes and slow going aren’t a cause for concern, but are par for the course when learning something challenging.
These lessons will help them in life. Let’s face it, there are lots of challenges out there. We want our children to respond with calm perseverance and integrity, right? They learn these lessons from those first school years.
Be at peace with wherever your children are academically. One of the ladies I spoke with this week said that you can learn your times tables in three years of haranguing or in thirty minutes when you are developmentally ready. What a revelation that is, and I hope it brings you peace! Whatever may be missed can be made up later if that child knows how to learn, and knows just how smart and special she is. Without confidence, however, every encounter that reveals a gap in her education (and we all have them) will only confirm what she knows: she is dumb.
(Continued tomorrow with the conclusion: what to do with your kids)