You can teach a student a lesson for a day; but if you can teach him to learn by creating curiosity, he will continue the learning process as long as he lives. - Clay P. Bedford
Showing posts with label public school. Show all posts
Showing posts with label public school. Show all posts

Saturday, September 29, 2012

State Testing: An Education Super Fail

It's 4:16 AM.  Instead of sleeping, I'm here drinking coffee and blogging.  Why?  Because today was absolute utter hell in my home, and my daughter just got to sleep about two hours ago.  I'm still running on pure adrenaline and righteous anger.

Let me back up a bit.

Last year, I began homeschooling my children.  The reasons are many, but it mostly comes down to my belief that education is not one size fits all.  My children are both diagnosed with autism spectrum disorders, and my son additionally has a diagnosis of expressive/receptive speech disorder.  Both of them also have sensory processing disorder.  Mostly, in everyday life, this means little.  They have coping skills, they are really great kids, and they deal with the things that pose challenges like a couple of champs.  We realize, though, that it is having the freedom to be who they are in a supportive and loving environment which allows them to really shine like they do.  A public bricks and mortar school was not that environment.

K12 seemed to be a perfect fit for us.  I loved the curriculum.  Yes, I am using past tense words here, because I am beginning to realize that K12 is susceptible to the very same pitfalls, in terms of actual education, that any other public school suffers.  Perhaps it hit me extra hard this year because the language arts curriculum reading materials were severely slashed in terms of quantity, while at the same time we received a pile of test preparation materials which seemed more than a bit over the top.  The only reason I can think of to remove so much of the reading materials is that kids struggled with the amount of it, and spending additional time working through it would mean less time spent on test preparedness.  It also affects the kids' grades, and thus the school's reputation.  Now, I'm not blaming K12 for this at all; the state regulates their schools just like any other public school.  If anything, I think K12 is fucntioning exceptionally well given the circumstances and all of the red tape.

I wondered to myself, what would a curriculum look like if the schools were not being judged and the children were not being dragged through this nightmare known as state testing?

Today, I sat beside my daughter as she worked through a math Scantron assessment, her eyes welling up with tears, shaking with frustration, rocking back and forth.  She is good at math, but she hates it.  Her mind is definitely geared more toward right-brain activities than the logic-based, left-brain activities involved in math.  She hates math that is typical for her grade level, but this is the type of problem she had to work on:


Forgive me, since it's been quite some time since this was first introduced to me, but isn't this something you'd expect 7th-9th grade students to be working on?  I know a lot of adults who would struggle with this.  I almost wonder if they gave her the wrong assessment or something, because the problems were almost all at this level of difficulty and this was complete and utter torture for a 3rd grade child who detests math to begin with.

I have no idea what is in store on the actual state testing, but if it's anything like this, I have no idea at all what the goal is.  This is ridiculous.

I hope I feel better about things at some point, but right now I've had a rough day and I'm not feeling very warm or fuzzy about any of this.  Kids should not have to go through what my daughter went through today.  And you know, I'm quite sure that these state tests and district scores won't mean a damn thing in 100 years, but the contributions these children make to the world because of actual knowledge and experiential learning (read: not from tests for pretests for pretests to prepare for the pretest for the actual test) will.  Einstein, Tesla, George Washington, Hippocrates, and Galileo did just fine without all of this state testing crap.

Alrighty, then.

Thursday, June 28, 2012

Let Me Tell You How I Really Feel About Public Schools


The decision to homeschool was one that had been somewhere in the recesses of my mind since the pregnancy test came back positive. In fact, it was something I'd thought about even before that, due to my own experiences with the public education system. I had always considered it a 13-year prison sentence, personally. However, due to sufficient brainwashing, from which I have since deprogrammed myself, I also believed that school could actually be a good thing with the right support and conditions.

Undoubtedly, there will be no shortage of people who can attest to the truth of either side of this argument. After all, I was quite bipolar about it depending on the day. But I have learned a few things, through observation, experience, and real world education. I have come to the decision, which you can applaud or vilify me for, that I was correct in my assessment of public education as a prison sentence. I will share with you why.

In recent years, there seems to have been a precipitous drop in the use of common sense in dealing with problems which plague public schools. Most of the problems don't actually need to be problems in the first place. Take, for example, the news reports of elementary-age children being suspended or even expelled for such innocent behaviors as giving a classmate a kiss on the cheek or drawing a self-portrait including a friend and a water gun. I cannot begin to imagine the confusion and fear these children must have felt over being so severely punished for such innocuous behaviors.

I suppose it's a good thing, considering the fallout of children having time to actually interact with their peers, that schools are slowly but surely phasing out recess. This is apparently so they have more time to fill the kids' little brain containers with the rote memory tasks that will ensure the best scores on state testing - never mind that this isn't real learning and they'll forget most of it by the following school year. Hey! They scored in a range of excellence, so the schools must be doing something right! Wrong. Children need free time. They need to play. Children are built to play, and it is how they learn. Inadequate play time goes against every natural instinct a child has.

Ah, but then you can just medicate those unruly children, hyped up from a miserable combination of their nutritionally-deficient cafeteria carbohydrate slop load and lack of adequate down time between cram sessions. It's easier to pathologize behavior that can't be easily controlled, rather than admitting it is a natural consequence of essentially messing with nature by forcing children to be the opposite of what they are. Currently, more than 25% of U.S. children are on prescription medication. Ironically, we're drowning publicly-schooled children with war-on-drugs propaganda while simultaneously pumping them full of Ritalin and other psychiatric medications. When I was a kid, parents and teachers were concerned about us being hyped up on too much sugar. Kids today are snorting and selling their Ritalin. All of these unnecessary drugs are turning young children into drug dealers.

And, oh yes, this brings more consequences. Drug sniffing dogs and SWAT teams, metal detectors and random searches. My, what little criminals they must be! Or...not. The FDA acknowledges that some antidepressant medications can cause suicidal behaviors and other brain dysfunction. Could it be that the disastrous things happening to our children and in our schools is being perpetuated by these drugs and not prevented by them? I'm firmly believe it.

Of course, there is also the bullying, the verbally abusive teachers, the school administrators on power trips, the mental programming delivered via advertising piped into the schools, the severe disconnect between children and their families and the lack of opportunities for most parents to be involved, the financially-driven attendance policies that have parents with the constant threat of criminal liability over their heads if Timmy happens to miss more school days than the district thinks he should, and let's not forget the all-important dress code! Wait, you didn't know there was a dress code? Oh yes. It's unwritten, but your kid is expected to know it and comply, and it involves copious amounts of money so he or she can fit in and (hopefully) avoid some of the peer-perpetrated abuse that would result from committing the sin of not wearing whichever brand is deemed "cool" at any particular moment for whatever arbitrary reason.

And finally, the public school system violates my beliefs and principles as an attachment parent. Homeschooling is a natural continuation of what we have been doing as parents from the moment our children entered this world; we guide them, encourage their interests, foster a love of experiential learning (zoo or museum, anyone?) and reading for enjoyment as well as information, share in the experience of learning, provide opportunities for them to interact with children of all ages - not just their identically age-matched peers, and provide them with as much time as they need to play.

Yes, public brick and mortar schools suck. If children come out without psychological damage and with an education that genuinely reflects their actual potential, I call that a miracle. And I know there are teachers who take offense to this, but this is not about you. I'm sure there are also parents who don't care for my assessment and will adamantly protest and say that public education was the best thing that ever happened to their child(ren). You're not the ones I'm talking about. This is about all the other schools and teachers.

Recommended: The War on Kids documentary, available on Netflix

Friday, June 22, 2012

Karen Klein

I can't watch the following video without crying. I managed to get through the entire 10-minute version of middle school students verbally abusing bus monitor Karen Klein as it circulated around Facebook the other night. I'm just so saddened and disgusted at how children behave in schools, on school buses, playgrounds, and at other school-related functions. It sickens me how abuse like this can go on. I blame parents for not teaching better values. I blame schools for not cracking down harder on child perpetrators of abuse. I blame society's view of "bullying" as a rite of passage instead of calling it what it is - child-perpetrated harassment and abuse.

This case of child-perpetrated elder abuse went viral, partly because it was so heinous and partly because many of us are still from a generation when children were taught to respect their elders. While I am not of the mind that people automatically deserve respect simply because of their age or position (because I know that argument will be raised), I absolutely believe that no one deserves to be humiliated, berated, abused, harassed, mocked, and hurt like this woman was. Ever.


This is why my children will never be in public school again. And I am relieved to hear an adult admit that ignoring the bullies does NOT make them stop. It doesn't - ask any kid who has been bullied. Once you're selected as a target, you either beat them at their own game or you're going to suffer as long as they decide you're going to suffer. Of course, if you retaliate, then you get in trouble. THIS sort of thing is the result of kids being taught that bullying is a rite of passage. THIS sort of thing happens to children (and apparently bus monitors and drivers as well) on buses and in schools every day.

How long are we going to accept this?

Thursday, January 5, 2012

Kentucky City Arrests Children In Attempt to Prevent School Financial Losses

In Convington, Kentucky, new legislation makes skipping school a misdemeanor. Yes, that's right; kids who skip school can now be arrested for a crime.

On the surface, this might seem reasonable; actions have consequences and failure to meet responsibilities, by choice, certainly falls into that category. But, where are the statistics on why children are not meeting school attendance requirements?

Before I address that topic, I would like to briefly discuss the path of a child who is charged with a misdemeanor crime for skipping school. Chances are likely that a judge and perhaps a juvenile detention facility may be involved in such a case. And, if the child is ditching school to go steal, obtain drugs, or engage in other illegal activity, this is clearly a criminal issue. Such a child might benefit from rehabilitative youth programs. However, what about the child who is so overcome with anxiety about dealing with school-related anxiety that they are worrying themselves sick each morning? Do they deserve to be charged with a crime, to stand before a judge, or to land in a juvenile detention facility? Can you "scare straight" a child who is already frightened to face their classmates, or it it just psychological torture at that point? Personally, I believe the latter. And few schools consider the bullying epidemic as part of the truancy problem; they prefer instead to treat them as separate issues.

In Belen, New Mexico, where a similar law goes into effect this year, truancy expert (seriously?) Rochard Romero said, "The safest place for kids is at school..." Assertions like this really fry my grits, because I can unequivocally tell you that my child was not safest at school. In fact, school and the bus she rode to get there were two of the most dangerous places she went. I watched a bright, confident, smiling little girl, full of self-esteem and thinking she could conquer the world, morph into a quieter, less confident, almost fearful little girl who started getting tummy aches at the end of the weekend before returning to school. She was clawed, spat on, pushed, hit with her own lunch box, and pelted in the face with a rock snowball on the playground - and that's not all. In the 6 months she has been away from that environment, her confidence is growing, she is smiling all the time like she used to, and I can't get her to stop talking (and dude, sometimes I really wish I could).

Not all children who skip school do so because they're defiant youngsters with poor discipline. There are many reasons for truancy, and many of them are related to how schools handle problems that arise for students. Attendance problems should first be addressed by school counseling staff who are adequately trained in the effects of peer abuse and bullying. Sadly, far too many people consider bullying a harmless rite of passage.

Children receive so many mixed messages about abuse. Schools tell children to report abuse they are subjected to at home or by caregivers, sending the very clear message that it is not okay. And I agree, it is not okay. Children who are abused absolutely should report it and feel safe doing so. But at the very same time children are receiving the message that it is not okay for adults to harm them, they are being abused by their peers - sometimes to the point of suicide and often to the point of serious psychological detriment - on a regular basis. Schools are doing very little, beyond giving the bullying epidemic a lot of lip service and putting on a very thin facade of anti-bullying propaganda designed to make parents believe they're making an effort. It is my firm belief that school attendance could be dramatically improved if there was more walk and less talk where bullying is concerned.

There are, of course, other reasons a child may be skipping school. Autism spectrum disorders and sensory processing disorders, for example, are two reasons a child may be having an extremely difficult time in school, though they may not be able to explain or define what their trouble is. They may not even think to share some of the sensory issues they struggle with, assuming that everyone has the same issues and they just deal with them poorly. Many children with sensory processing difficulties have been told things like, "Everyone else can deal with it, why can't you?" Though there is a very legitimate issue, they internalize this and come to believe that they are the source of their own problems and are simply not good enough to compensate like they believe everyone else does. With the very high rate of these diagnoses among children this past decade, schools should have specialists on hand who are familiar with sensory disorders and autism. Would that not be better than labeling children as criminals and slapping them with a record?

The school years can be tumultuous times even for students who are not dealing with bullying or personal difficulties. There could be academic difficulties, stress at home, or any number of other things or combinations of things that children are dealing with. In our society, there seems to be this belief that children are not really people; they do not deserve basic human rights or the same ability to protect themselves. They are often not seen as individuals and their troubles are easily dismissed. This is laziness on the part of parents, educators, schools, and caregivers. Children are not born into this world with their motivation and personalities fully intact, and they need us to guide them, encourage them, and help them become the people they are. Children are frequently defined by those around them, rather than encouraged in positive ways.

I do not believe that we raise healthy, responsible children by allowing them to be abused by their peers, silencing their voices, terrifying them into obedience, or furnishing them with a criminal record for not falling in line with their compulsory attendance at school. Children need to be taught lessons in life about responsibility. They need hope, guidance, love, compassion, respect, and some measure of freedom to make their own decisions (within reason, of course).

You might say to yourself, if kids are having a legitimate problem which is resulting in repeated absence, the schools would deal with these situations differently. And I'm here to tell you there is a better chance of a unicorn happily dancing through your yard under a rainbow with a leprechaun holding a pot of gold with your name on it. Children are dollar signs to schools, and schools do not like to be parted with their money.

Tuesday, December 13, 2011

New York Times Targets K12, Online Schools In Severely Biased Article

Since we began learning at home as a family, my daughter has had a couple of rough days. Call it a rough week, even. But compared to having her come home with injuries from bullies, having her self-esteem chipped at on a daily basis, and the fact that she started to develop tummy aches about getting on the bus each day when she used to grin ear to ear every morning anticipating the day she would be old enough to ride that bus to school, I'd call our rough week a mere bump in the road. As for my son, he hasn't had one day of learning at home that I could consider rough. He craves knowledge and literally begs me to continue teaching on weekends, a request I am happy to indulge. I can make choices about the children my children associate with. I'm aware of what they are learning and I can always easily slip curriculum-enriching things into our day. We don't have homework in the traditional sense, so our evenings are family time instead of a mad dash to finish a mountain of homework, take baths, throw down some dinner, and get into bed. And academically, they are excelling. The experience has made us all happier.

Homeschooling has been a wonderful option for us, and I can't say enough good things about K12. But apparently, people feel threatened by school choice (or is it the loss of funds for their districts?) and feel the need to attack online schools. A recent New York Times article was a catalyst for some major misconceptions about K12 and similar schools. I, and many others, took great offense to how K12 and the families enrolled in their school were portrayed.

My daughter attended a bricks and mortar school for two arduous years. While I will quickly admit that her classroom teachers were both excellent - even exceptional, I was profoundly unimpressed by everything else. Perhaps most disturbing was having a school system telling me how - and if - I could parent my own child for the great majority of the day, five days a week, while they failed to do even a mediocre job of protecting her or following their own policies. The lack of predictability, reliability, and safety were major concerns. The only thing predictable about sending my child out that door each day was that, at some point, I was going to get a call about some kid doing some thing to my child. Again.

I'm quite certain that having parents regaining control of their children's lives scares some people in this country to their very cores. Independent thinkers? Oh my. People like that are so much more difficult to control and manipulate, and they tend not to believe everything they're told. They ask questions. That could be bad for those who wish to maintain control over the masses.

The New York Times article, Profits and Questions at Online Charter Schools throws out a real golden nugget of revelation with the statement, "Kids mean money." Wow, really? Anyone with a functioning brain above their stem realizes this as fact, but let's examine how this affects people on a personal level. The article attempts to make it sound like this is some kind of proof that K12 has profits over kids in mind, but I challenge any parent in any school district to take a good hard look and tell me if that isn't true for bricks and mortar schools - to a much greater degree. At public school, my child contributed thousands of dollars each year just by existing there. To her personally, that translated into a sub-standard school environment, heavily-used books and materials, and parents contributing a lot of time and money from our own pockets. On the other hand, I enrolled my children in K12, and I had 100 pounds of brand new school supplies delivered to my door. Free. Yes, free. We paid nothing. I had to go buy a bookshelf to dedicate to just the books, CDs, and DVDs alone, and I had to clear an entire cabinet in the kitchen for all of the science materials, paints, clay, and other materials. And comparatively speaking, my children cost taxpayers much less as homeschoolers than they would if they had continued to attend our local public schools.

The article presents another epic failure of an argument with this little gem: "Current and former staff members of K12 Inc. schools say problems begin with intense recruitment efforts that fail to filter out students who are not suited for the program, which requires strong parental commitment and self-motivated students." Here's a newsflash: any form of education requires strong parental commitment. Whether a child is attending a bricks and mortar school, an online school, a private school, or a traditional homeschool, parental involvement is the number one factor in a child's success. Uninvolved parents who do not participate in their child's education can turn the brightest child with the greatest potential for success into an academic failure with zero motivation, and it happens all the time in public schools.

I'm quite tired of parents being painted as morons who are incapable of contributing to their children's academic success. An Agora teacher paints a profoundly biased picture with the statement, "When you have the television and the Xbox and no parental figure at home, sometimes it’s hard to do your schoolwork." First of all, we don't even own a game console. Second, my children have never been left alone in their lives. And finally, K12 kids are assessed regularly. If they are not making it, there is accountability. We are responsible for making sure our children are progressing; there is not the huge disconnect portrayed in the article. Further, they quote a mother, Mrs. Ubiarco, as saying, "I called the teacher the other day to find out what a simple predicate is...She said it’s the verb. I said why don’t they just say that?" To this I say, wow. You needed to call a teacher for that? Try Google. Better yet, that handy little teacher's guide you get with every course might be helpful, too. The New York Times apparently left out all of the many successful examples of K12 students and found a handful of disgruntled teachers, and a few parents who use videogames to babysit their children, don't know how to tell their child to put the iPod away, and manage their time very poorly to represent our online school. Bias much?

Of our attendance requirements, the same Agora teacher who made the Xbox comment said, "Students need simply to log in to be marked present for the day." While it is true that K12 is not sending someone to the door of each and every homeschooled student each day to be sure each child has pencil to paper, the academic progress and assessments speak for themselves. A child who is not "attending" regularly is not going to meet standards, plain and simple.

And then, because you can't have any good, irrational anti-homeschool argument without bringing the topic of "socialization" into it, the deputy superintendent of Memphis City Schools, Irving Hamer, offered the following: “The early development of children requires lots of interaction with other children for purposes of socialization, developing collaboration and teamwork, and self-definition." Fascinating. Children couldn't possibly garner these skills from, say, Scouts, homeschool co-ops, neighborhood children, friends of the family, siblings, K12's field trips and other opportunities for social development, community sports or classes, or anywhere other than public school? I'd like to inquire as to when children are obtaining these wonderful social skills in school; would it be on the playground, the school bus, or in the lunch room? As far as my personal experience tells me, those are basically the only times children are doing any socializing in bricks and mortar schools - and it is largely unsupervised and where most bullying takes place. Ah, but Mr. Hamer's pompous assertions probably shouldn't surprise me, since a quick Google search revealed that he handles people who disagree with his policies by telling them to "go flip burgers". Nice. I think I'll pass on any social advice he proffers, particularly since Mr. Hamer's degree is in education and not child psychology.

The article (yes, it's quite lengthy) goes on to say that schools like K12 have "aggressive recruitment campaigns". I prefer to view them as awareness campaigns, which are rather necessary with anti-homeschool propaganda such as the New York Times article that prompted this blog post. K12 and schools like it do try to provide many informative opportunities for parents who have been brainwashed into believing that they cannot contribute much to their child's education beyond buying school clothes and supplies, and joining the PTA. Parents need to become aware of how much they really mean to their children in terms of learning and education. I cannot begin to count how many times people say to me, upon learning that I homeschool two advanced learners, "I could never do that." My response is always the same, "Yes, you absolutely could." Any parent with the time and desire to teach their child can teach their child. K12 has amazing teacher support. You are never alone. But public schools do everything they can to convince you that homeschooled children will be socially-awkward, poorly educated nitwits who will never go on to college. K12 has students go on to Harvard. But those students were not included in the Times article. I'd laugh at how utterly ridiculous the Times article is, if I didn't know so many people really believe that.

Is K12 perfect? No. But it's lightyears ahead of bricks and mortar schools in every way, in my opinion. Nothing is perfect. This is a relatively new concept and there will be bumps. Overall, I think this is a wonderful thing. There will always be naysayers who don't like change or who are just too uninformed to make any kind of judgment about this type of education. As for the New York Times, I'm not (nor was I ever) sure why people give that rag so much credibility. The reporting is poor and biased, the stories are highly sensationalized, and I wouldn't use that publication to line my cat's litter pan.

Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Why K12?

The K12 page featured the following question this morning:

Finish this sentence: The reason our family chose online school for our educational needs is ...

I love answering this question, because we all feel really happy with our experience thus far. Homeschooling my children was something I gave a bit of consideration to from the moment I found out I was expecting, though I wasn't entirely certain it was for us. For starters, with the exception of being an assistant to my Psychology professor during First Year Seminars at Penn State, I basically had no teaching experience at all - and what little I did have wasn't very relatable to teaching young children. I realized that most homeschooling families probably didn't have parents with teaching degrees, either, but I didn't even have the benefit of personally knowing someone who homeschooled. The extent of my experience with this type of learning was based purely in stereotypical viewpoints and jokes made on television shows.

As my daughter neared the end of preschool years, I felt immense trepidation about putting her into the public school system. I'm aware of the growing epidemic of bullying, my children's quirks, and how those issues might not mesh so well. Since education is a very high priority for me, and my children both love to learn, my second greatest fear was that negative school experiences could ruin that for them. But we tried it, both because Reezle had done so well in her mainstream preschool and because she expressed great enthusiasm about going to Kindergarten and riding the big yellow school bus. And sadly, and one might also say predictably, problems emerged before the year was half through. Academically, she excelled. Socially, she did well, but still managed to be a frequent victim of bullying. It got to the point I was afraid every time the phone rang during school hours because I dreaded the principal's voice on the other end telling me which kid hurt my daughter this time and how.

It became evident that homeschooling was due some additional consideration, particularly since also struggled deeply with the massive disconnect fostered by the traditional public school system. I wanted to be more directly involved in my children's education experience, especially since I always had been involved in their learning and know how to work within their different (er, wildly different?) learning styles. Both of my children are advanced learners, and I wanted them to have a rich educational experience. I didn't feel the public schools could provide it adequately, nor did I agree with the fact that gifted programs didn't even begin until grade 3. Furthermore, with my son's various challenges (speech, sensory, autism), I knew there could never be the type of one-on-one interaction that would allow him to thrive the way I knew he was capable of.

I began researching various curricula available to determine if there would be a good fit for our family. K12 kept popping up in my searches, so I decided to look into what they offered. From the start, I was really impressed. The curriculum was exceptional compared to all the others I had looked into. There were options to buy the curriculum or enroll in an online, teacher-guided virtual academy. Right then, I knew this was exactly what we needed; I could provide my children with an excellent curriculum while also have the safety net, so to speak, of lesson plans, experienced teacher contacts, and technical support. The unbelievably awesome bonus? We received over 100 pounds of school books, materials, and supplies...absolutely 100% free. I must have saved a fortune, which freed up money to enrich our curriculum even further.

K12 gives my children the opportunity to work at their own pace and seek out enrichment and curriculum enhancement opportunities or explore in greater depth their own areas of interest. They love learning in the comfort of their own home and we all love the freedom we have to hold "class" anywhere we choose. I no longer have to worry about what kind of peer-perpetrated abuse my child has been subjected to every time the phone rings. If we miss bedtime by an hour and sleep in because of it, we simply work an hour longer. We don't concern ourselves with sick days, because they won't miss anything. And it seems the list of reasons we love this program just keeps growing over time.

So, on this last day of November 2011, I am thankful for having the opportunity to homeschool my children, and for the outstanding curriculum offered through K12. (I also highly recommend it to anyone looking at alternatives to traditional schools!)

Monday, November 21, 2011

Bullying and Bullicide: A National Epidemic

According to the Youth Suicide Prevention Program, 1 in 10 high school students report at least one suicide attempt, and about 1 in 4 has seriously considered it. Let that resonate for a moment. Think about your typical high school classroom of approximately 20 students. Two of them have actually made an attempt to end their lives. The statistics are even more dismal for LGBT youth, 30% of whom report having attempted suicide at least once in the past year.



Ashlynn Conner, a smart, beautiful 10 year-old honor student who aspired to be a veterinarian when she grew up, made headlines last week. It wasn't for her academic success or achievement, or the type of news clipping she might frame and look back on through the years; after enduring bullying for two years and being told by her mother that she could not be homeschooled, Ashlynn decided to end her own life. While every story of a bullied child turning to suicide as an option is devastating, this one has left me chilled to the core. She was a little girl. Ashlynn was just two years older than my own daughter. I try to wrap my head around the idea of a child so young carrying such a heavy burden on her shoulders that she went as far as to end her life. No child deserves that. Her story has made me more determined than ever to do what I can to stand against bullying and encourage others to do the same.

Another young girl, 14 year-old Cheyanne of Ohio, endured verbal abuse and bullying by her teacher and teacher aid. What makes this even more troubling is that Cheyanne is developmentally disabled and these adults were the ones responsible for her education and safety during the school day.

While my own children are not in a bricks and mortar school, and some might think it would be easy for me to turn my back on the problem happening in public schools, I realize it is up to all of us to come together and turn this epidemic around. The effects of bullying can be lifelong, life-altering, or even life-ending. As the adults in this society, we all have the responsibility of ensuring the safety of our children. Just because bullying is a form of abuse perpetrated by other children, it is no more acceptable to ignore it than it would be to ignore obvious abuse of a child by an adult. Abuse is abuse, and it scars just the same. Too many people choose to turn away from this epidemic until it affects them personally, and saying nothing is essentially a quiet acceptance and granting of permission to the perpetrators of bullying; bullies realize that there are no guaranteed consequences for their actions, because most of it goes unpunished.

Not every parent can take their child out of public schools, and really, they should not need to. My daughter, a kind, compassionate child who cannot comprehend why all people cannot just be friends, was a victim of bullying during Kindergarten and first grade at our local elementary school. She was verbally harassed, spat on, and pelted in the face with snowballs to the point of injury. Responses appeared to be more to placate than to solve the actual problem. The district loosely followed its own guidelines on handling the bullying, and I suspect that the less than optimal results we got were only as good as they were because of my determined persistence.

I do not entirely blame the schools, however. Bullying has long been viewed as a fact of life for school-age children, and the extremely broad spectrum of types and degrees of bullying behavior allows even more disconnect because people tend to assume most bullying is of the garden variety and much less severe and impactful than it actually is.

So what are we to do? First and foremost, prevention starts at home; after all, parents have the greatest impact on their children. Sadly, even concerned parents too often consider bullying a fact of school life or a "harmless" rite of passage. Statistics on bullicide, suicide resulting from bullying, say otherwise. And there are the parents who believe that their child should become the bully, which will protect him or her by default. There is also the growing threat of technology as a bullying tool, which is like giving bullies super powers. It is more important than ever to take every preventive measure we can. Lives depend on it, as Ashlynn and so many others illustrate.

And yet, in some places right here in the United States, we're going backwards. Michigan's senate recently passed legislation called Matt's Safe School Law, which actually allows bullying for religious or moral reasons. This means that a bully can excuse his or her abuse of another peer as long as it can be justified within the parameters of supposed morality, as defined by the new legislation. In response to this, Michigan Democratic Senate Leader Sen. Gretchen Whitmer said, "This is worse than doing nothing."

If we are not part of the solution, we are part of the problem. There is no middle ground. If we pretend this doesn't exist, if we ignore it because it has not touched our lives personally or we hope our children will outgrow this phase, we are just as guilty as the bullies perpetrating the abuse. We are the example, and we are the solution. Schools are responsible for the children in their halls and classrooms and on their playgrounds for a substantial portion of the day. No child should be terrified to go to school, or end up robbed of a decent education because their school days make them sick with anxiety and fear. Likewise, parents cannot expect the schools to shoulder all of the responsibility for properly "socializing" their children. This is a joint effort, and I cannot stress enough the importance of creating a safe environment for our children to grow and learn. The effects of bullying can last a lifetime.

Talk. Whether you are dealing with a bullying situation already underway, or you are trying to prevent one, talking to your child is key.

Don't judge. Even if you think you aren't judging, you might be. Don't ever tell your child that bullying is "no big deal", or that they should be quick enough to fight back. By doing this, you diminish their experience and fail to fully understand what they are going through. This could burn the bridge of communication between you.

Listen. Once bullying starts, listening is more important than talking. If you are busy telling your child that bullying is a part of life or that "it's not a big deal", you are completely invalidating your child's experience and missing critical details that could potentially save your child's life. Hear them out. Ask them what they would like to change, and how they might like you to help them. Create a dialogue by asking more questions than you try to answer. And make sure you are listening attentively. Listening with your back to your child while you do the dishes is not listening.

Know your school district's bullying policies. Be familiar with them so you know your rights in the event you need to know your rights. Most student policies are listed on district websites and are easily accessible to the parents and students in the district.

Consider joining the PTA/PTO and raising the issue of bullying prevention, or go further and try to get a group of parents together to start a school anti-bullying program.

Encourage your school district to adopt a program where children learn social skills. With autism spectrum disorders being diagnosed at an increasing rate, there are many children who need additional help with social skills even if their diagnosis does not qualify them for special education or other school-based interventions. In fact, all children can benefit from being taught social skills. We can no more expect that putting children together in a group will prepare them to do well socially than we can expect that putting them in a kitchen with unprepared foods will teach them how to cook like a professional chef. Guidance must be provided. If children cannot cope socially, neither can they learn or succeed academically.

Know that bullying starts shockingly young. Don't dismiss a child who says she is being bullied in preschool. It does happen, and it can be a traumatic way to begin one's school years. Having confidence and support during those early years is critical to how your child will view the rest of their school years and education in general.

To learn more about bullying, especially in the age of technology, I encourage you to watch Bullying: Words Can Kill, a CBS News 48 Hours Special

Friday, November 11, 2011

Five Months Later

Out of nowhere, five months after my daughter last walked the halls of a bricks and mortar school building, she informs me that one of the two playground monitors at her former school prohibited her from sitting down. My first reaction was what!? "Yeah, sometimes my legs would get tired and my brain would get tired and I just wanted to sit down and think. She would come over and tell me to get up. Sometimes I tried to sit where she couldn't see me, but she was usually right there where the seats were. She never let me sit. Only if we had a headache or something."

While I understand the value of children getting out and getting moving, as mine often do with great enthusiasm, my daughter has a couple of extremely valid reasons for needing a break. One is that she is on the autism spectrum. Though mildly affected, the social and sensory aspects of the diagnosis can become overwhelming in crowds or when the pace is extremely fast. For a child on the autism spectrum, a few short minutes on the playground can be more exhausting than a couple of hours of bike riding or other more solitary, focused play. The second reason is that, like her brother, she also has some issues with mild hypotonia, or low muscle tone. This is a disorder that is not fixed with exercise, and may cause children to tire more easily depending on how and to what extent they are affected.

Some children with her diagnoses will act out with undesirable behaviors, unable to express or even understand their needs in those moments. My daughter understood her social and sensory limitations, opted to take a break to calm down and refocus so she could "calm [her] brain" before going back with her friends, and was prevented from doing this. R did tell me on numerous occasions that she didn't play with certain friends or do the things she wanted on the playground because "everyone just moves too fast". Effectively, the playground monitor was removing the only tool my daughter had to deal with the situation, and she was miserable.

Reezle is slow, methodical, and deliberate in what she does. She contemplates, thinks things through, and is slow to anger or frustration. She has a very good sense of herself and others, as well as how to best soothe herself in overwhelming situations. We have tried our best to help our children find the tools they need to navigate the world successfully. What she wanted was not unreasonable for any child to ask, but especially a first grader dealing with as much "input" as a busy playground (and all of its weather variants) has to offer.

Perhaps I wouldn't have felt my blood boil instantly if there was not already a history with that woman. She stood by as my daughter got pelted in the face with rock snowballs by another student when she was in Kindergarten; Reezle came home with a welt and a scratch about an inch from her eye and no one had done a thing about it. The same child spat on my daughter at lunch, apparently because my daughter just wanted to be friends and the girl did not. Reezle cannot understand why all people can't just be friends and care about one another, and this crushed her. The playground monitors are also the lunch monitors, and again nothing was done. There were other more minor things as well, so I was already not a fan of the woman.

I can say, heartfelt and happily, that removing my children from the bricks-and-mortar public school system was the absolute best parenting decision of my life thus far. There never seems to be a shortage of things to remind me and confirm that. In our homeschool, my children can take a 5-minute recess, or an hour. They can sit when they want, swing, ride a bicycle, or as the seasons change they can make snow angels and build snowmen. Extra layers or fewer, hot cocoa or a cool drink, and a hug from mama when they're done. But I can guarantee no one is going to tell them they can't sit down if they need to.

Five months and I'm still finding reasons to be angry at the way my child was treated. Five months and things are still surfacing that I didn't know. No, there is no way I could have ever tossed my son into that snake pit. And for that matter, I never should have allowed my daughter to be subjected to it, either. There are better ways to socialize, with actual caring supervision, and socialization is about the weakest argument for public schools anyhow.

On a brighter, much more fun note, the number nerd in me is pretty excited about today's date: 11/11/11. Enjoy!

Saturday, November 5, 2011

A Closed Discussion

Going into the homeschooling adventure, I had sort of steeled myself for the inevitable judgments and misconceptions I was sure I would face for the decision to remove my children from public school. The majority support I received was a huge surprise; with very little exception, the reactions have been very positive. That is, unless you count the people in our former school district.

What I didn't expect was the reaction I got from a friend of 17 years, with whom I have always been able to talk about anything. When I first mentioned, in response to why I haven't had a lot of time for friends lately, that I had been busy teaching my children, I got no response at all. We were chatting online at that time, and I didn't think much of it. The abrupt silence did make me wonder, but I'm not one to create problems where none exist.

Recently, when I did have a few minutes to myself and we talked on the phone, our conversation moved into the realm of what we've been doing lately. I said, "Same as I said before, I've been keeping very busy teaching the kids. It's time-consuming, but they love it and so do I." Again there was no response, so I said, "I'm getting a vibe here. You seem to go silent when I mention homeschooling." I mentioned our online conversation. The response was, "Yeah, I just don't agree with it." The implied was that there would be no discussing homeschooling. And it just didn't sit well with me.

For 17 years, my friend and I have agreed and disagreed on many things. I accept my friend, despite some things (i.e. judging others, selfishness, narrow thinking) I may not necessarily care for. Overall, I consider my friend to be a good person and I realize that people experience and view the world differently. So I have to admit that it bothers me more than a little that homeschooling is a closed topic. We've never had a closed topic. We've been able to have disagreements, wildly different opinions, and even arguments throughout the time we've known each other. I am not opposed to hearing a good counterpoint from my friend, but the anti-homeschooling sentiment seems to have no basis whatsoever. If there were reasons, or even just one single tiny reason, I would listen and do my best to understand. But I have been refused that opportunity.

My friend's refusal to even disagree with me feels highly critical and judgmental; even strangers who disagree with my choices will at least debate me or provide a reason for their disagreement. It seems extremely stifling and unfair that my friend can talk for hours about life and work, or anything that comes to mind, while I am essentially forbidden to discuss teaching my children and the wonderful benefits (like my son being a full grade level ahead in Math, Phonics, and Language Arts, or the confidence that is returning in my daughter after being free from the bullying she endured during her two years of public school). I hesitate to discuss anything which might lead into the topic of school or learning. Or, at this point, anything at all. My friend has absolutely no experience with homeschooling, and does not have nor want children. That makes this silent criticism even worse.

Why am I sharing this? Aside from the fact that it's cathartic to get these thoughts out of my head, this story also illustrates some of the utterly mindless and hurtful reactions some people have to homeschoolers. While I can only guess the basis for my friend's extreme distaste for homeschooling is related to the myth that children need public schools to 'become socialized', I can say with certainty that these misconceptions really need to go. The only way they ever will is if people talk and others listen. I will continue to talk about homeschooling.

And if you've read this far, thank you for listening.

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

No Subject Left Behind

No Child Left Behind. It sounds great when you just hear the words, doesn't it? But what does it really mean and how does it translate into real education? Simply put, it may mean a whole lot of subjects left behind instead.

Math and language arts (reading/writing) are the core areas where schools are evaluated based on student performance. This is great if you consider how much these areas mean to effective learning and functioning in this world. However, it's not so great once you realize that schools are losing sight of equally important areas such as history, science, and the arts. While some would argue that these areas are not on level with math and language arts, I completely disagree.

First of all, there is a saying that those who do not know history are doomed to repeat it. I was appalled not long ago at how many people my age and younger don't even know who Adolph Hitler was, or much of anything about World War II and the mass genocide of the Jewish people in concentration camps. Far fewer are aware of our own country's post-Pearl Harbor internment camps which the Japanese-American citizens of our country were forced into, many after agreeing to renounce their American citizenship because they were bullied into doing so. If we do not know our history, and world history, we are doomed to repeat it. That is a frightening thought. But beyond simply repeating past atrocities and costly mistakes, there is also the insight that comes from comparing similar past events to current situations and making more informed decisions based on what happened previously; this insight is lost when we do not know our history!

It is not just political leaders and big decision-makers who need to know history, but the people voting for their leaders, laws, and government. People rely much too heavily already on others to make decisions for them, and a frightening number of people are just plain apathetic about politics. As a country, we do not appreciate the power we have to vote and make a change; and considering how far we have come to have such right and privileges, this is truly a shame. If our forefathers could have seen the ambivalent mess we have become, they would likely have either thrown their hands in the air and said, "Why bother!?" or done everything they could to instill within each new generation the importance of knowing history and being a part of their own instead of passively sitting by and consenting to whatever others chose for them. I choose the latter for my own children; in some ways I believe history is even more important than mastery of math or language arts. Our country was founded on the hope of having a choice and the freedom to govern ourselves. We have become a country that largely lets others govern us. It may not be kinds and queens anymore, but it's more corrupt than ever.

Science is important as well, for reasons too numerable to list. Science helps us understand how our world works and how we interact within it, in addition to providing us with an understanding of the most fundamental facts about ourselves and our bodies, from nutrition to exercise to our overall health picture. But it goes much deeper. Without science, history, and all of the subjects we used to learn in school, we become sheep. Plain and simple.

The cursive writing debate is one that seems to be drawing attention from just about everyone. Because the focus of education is the "core" math and language arts courses, cursive is being dropped from many curricula around the country because it is not something the schools are evaluated by. This is not in the interest of our children at all, but rather the interest of the ratings of the schools and their respective districts. Good penmanship may not be as critical as it was 20 years ago since technology has become paramount in producing finished academic works, but there are benefits (as this ABC article points out) which are being overlooked for the sake of schools looking better on paper. I don't know about anyone else, but I couldn't care less what schools look like on paper; I have always wanted my children to have a full and excellent education which will prepare them for the future - whatever that means.

People seem to be completely unaware of the fact that our current way of life is neither natural nor sustainable. We have achieved great things in this world, things which are incredible to even consider. Most people, however, stick a plug into an outlet or place a call from their cell phone and take it completely for granted. I'm not saying we should all return to the times before electricity, computers and cell phones. I rather enjoy these luxuries and I believe most people do. What I am saying is that we should all be prepared to live off the grid like our forefathers did, should the need ever arise. This is not some doomsday prediction, but rather something we should give some consideration to; what kind of mess would our society be if we had to live as they did 100 years ago? 200 years ago? It's fascinating but also sad how far we have come from that. Also, we should value the wealth of knowledge we have to learn from, realize that many of our ideas are not new but tried and tested, and act accordingly. In 200 years, your school's academic performance rating won't mean a thing to this world; your child's knowledge and potential to change the world, however, will mean a great deal.

Learning is important, and not just the subjects someone deems more important than others and evaluates schools by. Knowledge is power.

Saturday, September 24, 2011

On The State of Things

I don't ask for much for my children from others. I really don't. Aside from his speech therapy, with a therapist I will admit wholeheartedly was amazing, I have provided for all of my son's needs. I taught him sign language when he couldn't speak, created a sensory diet (Google it) to get him from being crippled by something as minor as sleeve length to where he functions well, and, in spite of his autism and having a speech disorder, taught him enough that he is skipping a grade of Math and Language Arts just four weeks into Kindergarten. So, you know, I really don't need much. I got this.

But what would have been nice is if our IEP team, which we've had since G was a baby, would keep us on since (a) we technically are still in the school district because we live here, and (b) it makes sense not to throw a huge wrench into the mix for a situation that is not complicated, and (c) it's really not asking a lot for them to meet with us once each year. But no. Of course not. Because nothing anyone does in this world ever seems to make a bit of sense. Because I am now the enemy of the school district as a homeschooling parent, and they lose money with my children not attending their schools.

As I pore over my interactions with the school district both present and past, I ask myself, what was it I wanted from them that they did not provide? Above and beyond the adherence to their own policies and rules on bullying. Not considering the gym teacher, who lied about my child, then skipped a meeting that was planned and scheduled specifically so she could be there, leaving me no option but to call everyone to reconvene (this was not a popular move on my part). What, exactly, did I hope for?

And then it hit me; it was something I would never have. It was the genuine concern and the family-like atmosphere we had in preschool. It was the desire to have people who truly, honestly cared about my children while my children were in their care for 6+ hours of the day. I know some people might find this absurd, and that's fine. Call me crazy, but I believe that elementary-age - and heck, even older - children need nurturing that goes beyond what is typically offered in school. The fact that those who were most involved with us simply turned their backs in the manner they did proves to me that anything I thought was caring was merely feigned concern proffered up by those who wished nothing more than to appease me so I would not continue to be in their collective faces about their collective failures.

I realize I probably sound angry. I'm not. I'm disappointed. It's more a feeling than something I can put into words. It all makes me sad, suffice it to say that. Sad for my children, sad for the way the world is sometimes, and sad that our world has ventured so far from everything natural and right, replacing it with man-made rules and calling it all good for us as we rapidly deteriorate physically and emotionally as a society.

Thursday, September 22, 2011

In which I do some venting...

If you ever want to know EXACTLY where you stand with your school, school district, or special education contacts, simply remove your children from said school district's schools and see what happens. I always felt like I might eventually put my kids back in school at some point. Now I know I won't. This morning sealed it, but this morning was just the final straw.

At the end of last school year, I wrote a sincere thank you letter to R's teacher and e-mailed it. Despite the less than desirable issues with public school, first grade had not been a terrible year because my daughter's experience in the classroom had been positive. At the beginning of last school year, the paperwork to homeschool R was halfway done and she was only in school to bridge the time/attendance gap. Upon learning this, her teacher called me and was very supportive. She said that she understood if I decided to homeschool, and that it would be her (the teacher's) loss because Reezle really added something to the group. The teacher also offered her help if we went that route should any questions arise. As it turned out, she homeschooled her own children for a while. Impressed with the new teacher, we decided to keep R there for first grade.

The teacher and I communicated often by e-mail, so I had no doubt she would receive the letter. But I never heard a word back. As the weeks and months passed by, I wondered if maybe she wasn't logging in over the summer or if perhaps she didn't receive it. I still don't know.

As the start of this school year approached, I wasn't sure if our virtual charter would be contacting our former school or not, so I felt it prudent to make the call myself and talk to the principal. She had become an ally, so I thought, and I felt that we got along well despite a bit of a rocky start. When I told her that R would not be returning, it was clearly a surprise. The call was abruptly ended; there were some awkward well wishes, and the phone was quickly passed off to the school secretary. I can't explain exactly what more I wanted out of that conversation, but suffice it to say it was something more than what I got.

Today I spoke with the director of special education about getting Little G's IEP faxed to his teacher contact through our virtual school. She informed me that she'd mail it to me because a release would be required to fax it, then very unceremoniously informed me that she would no longer be dealing with my son's IEP because he was not attending school in the district. What? Yes, we were dumped, since we are "no longer IN the school district". You know, even though we are.

But you know, I shouldn't care. This county and district have been an epic FAIL at:

* Providing speech services through Early Intervention. They had none, so I taught my son sign language and found and paid for our own speech services until G was of IEP age and the district took over covering the tab.

* Providing occupational therapy. There was a period of time where I showed up for weeks and a therapist did not, so I read a bazillion books on dealing with sensory processing disorder, hypotonia, and motor skills and created a highly-effective sensory diet for him.

* Enforcing their own rules and policies on bullying.

Now, I'm not big on formalities. Okay, maybe I am. But you know, that teacher could have said, "Thanks, I enjoyed working with R, too." The principal could have been less abrupt, since she started at that school when we did and we have worked closely over the past 2 years. I even sent her an e-mail follow-up when the bus stopped here and beeped for Reezle on the first day of school, just to remind her we were enrolled elsewhere, and wished her a good school year at the new school. No response. How long would it have taken to fire back a quick, "Noted. Good luck to you, too!" And the special education director? We've worked together since Gavin was a baby! Her demeanor was perhaps most disappointing of all. You know how someone acts at the very moment they stop pretending to like you? Yeah. That.

The feeling I get is that they are quite pleased to be rid of us. Which, I guess shouldn't surprise me. I was right in everyone's face all the time holding them accountable and expecting them to *gasp* do their jobs. But I realize now that any kindness or concern was fake, and all of the genuine appreciation I had for the things they did manage to do - which I expressed often and via thank you e-mails - was misplaced. And I have to admit, that stings a little. Or a lot. These people walked a difficult road with our family, and while it wasn't always a pleasant journey I did believe the consideration was genuine. Now I know it wasn't.

Whatever. At least I walk away knowing I did the right thing, and acted in a way that I feel good with. But somehow, I'm sure they all feel the same way.

Saturday, September 3, 2011

Simple Pleasures

It appears that, based on our state's department of education website and a conservative estimate, we cost the school district more than $6k by removing our children.

At the end of last school year, our Superintendent made some very poor (the opinion of many, not just my own) decisions about the direction of our district. Families affected by these changes did not get a say in the matter, and there are a lot of people who are feeling more than a little upset about this. After previous unsatisfactory dealings with the Superintendent over the district's failure to enforce its own policies on bullying when my then Kindergarten student was repeatedly victimized, this was the straw - the ultimate deciding factor which propelled my husband and I right over the fence between public school and homeschool.

It's probably wrong, but my reaction to the financial loss for our district based on my children no longer attending was as follows:



LOL :D

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

Socializing, Part II: Bullying and Popularity

It might surprise many people to know that I believe my children will receive more social benefits from being homeschooled (see my previous post here). What probably won't surprise them is my concern about the growing epidemic of bullying in our public schools. Overcrowded schools with kids who bully and teachers who don't care and administrators who don't do their jobs are more common, both in my experience and what I gather from others, that most any of us would be comfortable with if we allowed ourselves to think about it. The impact of bullying and very real psychological damage done by the less fabulous social aspects of public school is downplayed severely. "Over 14 percent of high school students have considered suicide, and almost 7 percent have attempted it," according to BullyingStatistics.org, and a British study (available at the same site) says that about half of suicides among young people are due to bullying. Further, consider that 1 in 4 children are bullied, and only about 58% report it. Those are some sobering statistics. Bullying-related suicide deaths are a growing epidemic in our country. Meanwhile, I have never heard of a child committing suicide because they were homeschooled.

In the two years my daughter was in preschool, and the one year my son attended, they were not bullied even once. They loved school and looked forward to going. But there were key differences between preschool and elementary school; a smaller teacher to student ratio (1:8), more structure, and very little random free time. Classes were 3x weekly for a couple of hours, and we all received a detailed typed report of everything the children had done that day and what they would be doing next time.

Elementary school was like jumping into a cold pool for me; the shock was palpable. There were no more detailed communications of what my daughter was doing, the days were much longer and 5 days/week, and there were bullies. Bullies on the bus, bullies in the lunch room, bullies on the playground, bullies from other classes, and even a bully for a gym teacher who went so far as to tell lies about my child to justify her poor handling of R's sensory struggles with noise and disorganized movement. My daughter, just by the end of Kindergarten, had rock snowballs thrown at her face, had a peer spit in her face at lunchtime because my daughter simply wanted to be her friend, was injured by a boy she didn't even know 'because he felt like it', was verbally and physically bullied on the bus, and became so upset about the happenings on the bus that she asked me to start driving her to school. That was quite significant, since she had spent years watching the bus do morning and afternoon runs by our home with great anticipation of the day she could finally ride it.

But it's not just bullying; it can also be compromising who you are to be part of the in crowd. The characteristics that will get you ahead in life are not typically the ones valued by peers. In fact, they just might make you a target. We need only look to the popular television shows on Nickelodeon to see what matters to school-age children. Spoiled, entitled behavior is rampant, elementary students are walking around texting with their own cell phones, and everyone is keeping up with the Jones'. A boy who is good at sports or a girl who has great hair and brand name clothes is far more likely to get positive feedback from peers than they would for being in honors math or being accepted to Yale.

Highly intelligent students typically have different priorities and interests. For some, this doesn't affect their social lives, but for many it does. If you don't see that easily at first glance, it is probably because there are many highly intelligent children not living up to their potential because school is a hostile environment for them, or because they have such a desire to fit in and be accepted that they make that their priority. I don't want my children to ever feel like their education has to include a popularity contest, or that they have to sacrifice who they are to be accepted.

Catch-all statements like "kids need to go to [public] school" are frustrating to me. I choose to homeschool my children, but I would never say that all kids need to be homeschooled. I simply don't believe either statement is true. Public school was okay, when you balance the positives (wonderful teachers) and negatives (bullying, family disconnect). But it was just okay. And I want better for my children than "okay".

Thursday, August 11, 2011

Bullying

Since before my children were out of diapers, there were many reasons I considered homeschooling them. One of the reasons was bullying. My husband and I always knew that bullying was rampant in schools, though we both quite mistakenly figured it was something that would become an issue down the road - perhaps in junior high school. Boy, were we wrong.

I was excited for my daughter as she anticipated her first ride on the big yellow school bus she had been watching thoughtfully for a couple of years as it made the morning and afternoon routes past our home. But I was also sad, because even the best schools with the most dedicated teachers and brightest students also have bullies. There would be 7 hours every week day where I would have very little information about what was happening in my daughter's life. That's substantial.

My discomfort with the ways of traditional schools didn't stem from the fact that I am a control freak or one of those moms who wants to wrap her kid in pillows and a helmet before sending them out the door; my concerns were based on life experience. And, especially during those early years, a school day is a long time to be separated from family. Young children aren't exactly famous for relaying complete or accurate information about their days away from home, and as any parent of a teen can attest, it doesn't get much better with age.

The first time my sweet girl came home from school with an injury caused by another student, a scrape just beneath her eye, I was quick to give the benefit of the doubt. I asked what happened, and she told me that another child had thrown a snow ball at her, and I assumed it was a result of kids being kids on the playground in the snow. I did not, at the time, know about the school's 'no snow ball throwing' policy. I also did not know, until it happened again with a rock placed inside, that the snow was intentionally thrown at my daughter's face to injure her. The playground monitors? They did nothing. In fact, they didn't even report it to the teacher. But I sure did.

Over the course of the rest of the school year, my daughter was spat on at lunch because she wanted to be friends with another girl who did not want to be friends with her, had her arm clawed by a boy who said he 'just felt like doing that', and was verbally and eventually physically bullied by a team of three students on the bus a year ahead of her.

I went all Mama Bear and had everyone from the principal to the teacher to the bus driver to the guy in charge at the transportation department on speed dial. The teacher was wonderful. The principal really did her best as well. But there is only so much that can be done. But what really got me was when I kept pointing out the district's own bullying policy and stating that I wanted the bullies given time off of the bus, and the request was never taken seriously - but when my daughter caught the bus going up the street instead of down the street a couple of times, we were threatened with time off of the bus! The transportation guy never really liked me again after that.

As Little G's 5th birthday approached, I was already dreading Kindergarten. If my daughter, the well-spoken and much more social child of the two faced such as much bullying as she did, how would my autistic son with a speech disorder fare? It stressed me out immensely. Possibilities played in my head like awful movies; I pictured him being bullied, trying to respond, being unable to speak and being further victimized for that. I had to put it out of my mind. I couldn't bear the thoughts. R pretty much lets stuff roll like water off of a duck. G internalizes and is crushed by it.

Some people have said things to me like, "Well, they have to get used to the real world at some point." And I agree. But I have never been bullied in my adult life, not like kids experience in school. Does it happen? Sure, but it's rare and there are legal options available to adults who are harassed. Children are at the mercy of adults and school systems who often fail them terribly, and victimized by much more traumatic and frequent bullying which they have not developed psychologically enough yet to see for what it is. And statistically speaking, 58% of children never report being bullied. Worse? 1 in 4 children experience bullying.

Too many schools and parents consider bullying a harmless rite of passage. It isn't. Children commit suicide over this. People fail to reach their full potential because of wrecked self-esteem, or avoid doing things they otherwise would to enrich their lives because they fear their peers. Too many kids drop out of school because they cannot handle the social climate, not because the work is too difficult. And what a waste. I often wonder about the casualties of bullying; if the person who would have developed a cure for cancer or some other serious disease was bullied into dropping out of school, or life.

I believe in education. I love to learn, and so do my children. But many children who do receive a great education do so in spite of traditional schools and all of the garbage they encounter there. I'm not saying good kids don't have good experiences, or that kids don't have good times at school, or that all schools are bad, or that a lot of kids can't be really successful. I'm just saying I like our odds better this way. Raising children to be confident, motivated, self-starters who reach for their dreams and are willing to work hard for what they want is difficult enough in this world without the added burden of having to undo the damage of bullying.

Learn more about bullying at BullyingStatistics.org.

Monday, August 8, 2011

The Right Way

Three weeks until the start of school. When I think about how fast that will go, it feels a little scary! But then I remind myself that we will be learning at home, together, as a family, and my fears dissipate quickly as I think of all the advantages. I'm very excited. The kids are very excited.

It feels right not shipping my kids off bright and early every weekday morning until 4 o'clock in the evening. It felt almost like strangers were raising my daughter, getting to be there as she learned and grew while I was functioning to encourage her, get her on the bus in a timely manner, rush her through homework when she got home, and get her into bed in time to do it all again the next day. I hated that. I would not let on to my daughter that I hated it; I just made the most of the time I did have to spend with her and always exhibited a highly positive attitude about school and learning. That was especially difficult when dealing with the bullying, the, um, difficult gym teacher, and my daughter's natural curiosity about the meaning of obscene words she'd find written on the bathroom walls. But I managed.

The first few weeks were always tearful for me, something I thought would be easier last year but was somehow even more difficult. I became increasingly aware of my little girl's precious early years slipping away like grains of sand through my fingers. My discomfort with the family disconnect only grew as I realized that the opportunities for parental involvement in public school are few, and limited to a group of parents who always seem to be the same ones despite the names on the volunteer list. Oh, but they sure called me when they needed money or donations - which I gladly provided, but I missed my daughter.

I know my appraisal of public school sounds negative. I don't intend to come off that way. And I will be just as quick to admit that we were blessed with absolutely wonderful Kindergarten and first grade teachers, both of whom surely contributed to a very positive foundation for my daughter's educational experience. But I cannot deny the negative aspects of my daughter's public school experience. Education, much like other controversial mommy topics such as breastfeeding versus formula or what constitutes appropriate discipline, is a very personal family decision for which there is no universal "right way". What is right for my children may not be right for yours, and what works for one family may be complete and utter chaos and disaster for another.

Only time and experience will tell how this journey will unfold for us. For now, there is a lightness as the beginning of the academic year approaches and I know I do not have to part with both of my children for more than 7 hours each day while someone else teaches them. That lightness is countered by the trepidation of the great unknown of homeschooling. It sort of feels like buckling up for a roller coaster ride; there is a joyful anticipation with a side of internal butterflies.