As we get closer to our little Peanut's fifth birthday, I am more and more grateful for the miracle of adoption. There really aren't words, my friends. Somehow this little life that you didn't conceive, that you didn't carry, that you didn't birth -- somehow this life has born a love in your soul that you didn't even realize was possible. My favorite thing to tell people about adoption is that "I wonder if I could love a biological child as much as I love Lilia."
Thankfully our culture has come a great long way in its understanding and acceptance of adoption. This is a good thing (especially because God has always celebrated it, both spiritually and physically -- lots of adoption in the Bible, folks). Thankfully my experience with people who find out Lilia is adopted has been, generally speaking, quite positive. I have lots of friends with adopted kids, too, and most of them usually have the same kind of experience. Not all of them, though, or not all of the time.
So even though, yes, our culture has come a long way in its understanding and acceptance of adoption, there are some steps that would still be well worth taking. And since I am an adoptive mommy with a Ferocious Mother Bear Love for her adopted bear cub, I thought that I might take a few moments to lay out some guidelines as gently and tenderly as I can. Hey, none of us is perfect, and if you've said something really stupid to an adoptive mommy (me or someone else), then chances are I've said ten more stupid things to John Doe about any number of topics under the sun.
But here are some things to keep in mind:
1. Do not ask, "Are you going to have any of your own children?" We all know what you really mean, but please do NOT word it in this way. The Fierce Mommy Love is just hugely offended by this wording, rightly or wrongly. This kid is my own. Period. A better choice of wording would be, "Are you going to have anymore children?"
2. When referring to the biological mom or dad, PLEASE use the phrase "birth mother or birth father." Again, we all know what you mean when you say "REAL mom," but just follow the logic of the above point. I'm the real mom. My husband is the real dad. That "real mom and dad" stuff just rips our hearts to shreds. And worse, it may confuse our kid if she happens to overhear you.
3. If you ask, "Does she know that she's adopted?" please do not ask it in the presence of said child. If she happens not to know, she will undoubtedly know by the time the final syllable of this question has escaped your lips. (And yes, she does know).
4. Please do not say something like, "Well, now you'll be pregnant in no time," or some other such remark involving reproductive fertility.
First, most adoptive parents -- but not all -- have experienced fertility problems, and with that, no small amount of emotional pain. They probably do not want "to go there" on the topic of pregnancy.
Second, adoption is not a means to an end (hey, if we adopt this kid then we'll probably get pregnant -- yay for us!). Please, please, please hear me on this one. The child given through adoption is just as precious to the parents (and yes, maybe even a teensy bit more so) as the child given through pregnancy. Also, this precious adopted child has brought a great deal of healing to the parents over the pain of not conceiving. We do not regret the absence of pregnancy. We regret that we could not carry the adopted child.
Thirdly, there is probably still some lingering pain there for the parents involving infertility and how this might affect family size (if a larger family is wished for). It's probably best to simply avoid the topic altogether.
5. If you happen to come across parents with kids of another color, and if this happens to offend you, and if you cannot think of anything beautiful or tactful to say, then PLEASE do not say anything at all.
6. If you happen to be gung-ho about breast feeding, please do not get on this soapbox in the presence of an adoptive mommy. We adoptive mommies cannot breast feed our children. We did not produce milk. We must give them formula. And we would like to hold on to some small shred of hope, however feeble, that feeding our babies formula will not be the means of completely annihilating their physical, emotional, and social development through the years. (Sheesh).
7. Please do not speak about the "inevitable" problems that will arise because of genetic heritage. Wherever you are on the Nature versus Nurture spectrum, I think most of us can agree that there is a fair number of factors on BOTH sides that contribute to a kid's personality, the good or the bad. Whether raising an adoptive or a biological child, there WILL BE problems because we are all sinners. But there will be beautiful things, too, because we are all created in God's image. Parenting is hard enough without worrying about things over which we have zero control.
8. If you are someone who has considered adoption and then decided against it, please do not explain by saying, in the presence of an adoptive parent, "because I never thought I could love an adopted child as much as I love my own." Hopefully I do not have to elaborate on this one. It should be a no-brainer.
9. Please respect the adoptive parents and their decision on the Open versus Closed Adoption spectrum. My hubby and I happen to lean toward preferring a more Closed Adoption, and we have our reasons. Lots of our friends have more Open Adoptions, and they have their reasons. The last thing we need is people telling us "we should have done it that way." It is a decision based on conscience for every adoptive family, and all of us are doing what we believe is truly the best thing for our families and our children.
10. This one is a little different, but... Please give baby showers for adoptive mommies. We are just as excited about the baby coming to us as a pregnant lady is for hers. We have waited and longed for the child, too. And even though it's not in our tummy (or maybe baby is already here!), we still really really really want the joy of opening baby gifts and celebrating with our family and friends. And please DO go all out -- invites, plans, decorations -- yes, even if it's post-baby! Let those Adoptive Mommies get the full-on experience.
So in summary, please just be careful how things are worded in the presence of adoptive parents (or the adopted child!). We know that things are very rarely meant to hurt; but the hurt can be real, nonetheless. There's lots of anxieties attending adoption, anyway, so please celebrate with us and choose your words carefully.
And to end on a truly eloquent note -- Yay for Adoption!! And Yay for a little Peanut named Lilia, who has spent the better portion of the past five years teaching Jerry and I what it means to love.
Tuesday, March 10, 2015
Monday, January 5, 2015
Ten Things I Like About You (And One Thing I Don't)
We've been in the Albany, New York area for almost three months now. As we adjust, adjust, and continue to adjust, Jerry and I find ourselves commenting not infrequently on the many things we truly like about our new home. I've decided to compile a list of those "things," so that our family and friends might have a little view of our new life in New York. Here goes....
1. People Here are So Dang Friendly
When I say that "people here are friendly," I mean that they are truly, genuinely, amazingly friendly. With no disrespect to Washington, Kentucky, or Oklahoma intended, the people here are THE friendliest people we have EVER met. Our mouths are still gaping open in astonishment on this one.
2. Moisture
It's really moist here, so it reminds us of our homes. It's probably more moist than Kentucky. It might be more moist than Washington (but it probably isn't, judging by the absence of slugs). It's the complete opposite of Oklahoma in this respect. When living in Oklahoma, there were three ways to describe the moisture levels: Borderline Drought, Drought, and Severe Drought. (Oh yes, well that actually describes the lack of moisture, doesn't it? You get the idea.)
3. History Schmistory
The stuff around here is old. We live in a home built in the 1960s, and that's one of the newer ones. I realize that any visiting European would laugh at my calling stuff here "old," and with good reason. But for this American girl who grew up on the West Coast, where a building established in 1909 is ancient, the stuff around here is dang old. Since Jerry and I are history geeks, we are loving this! The first American home with working electricity is located in Albany! When visiting Rhode Island last weekend, we walked by the first Baptist Church in America, founded in 1634! The idea of visiting Plymouth Rock, a mere 3ish hour drive from our home, gives us goosebumps! Before moving here, we hadn't considered the uniqueness of American history to our new location. Icing on the cake!
4. Really Good Food
We've eaten really well since we've moved here. There are no limits to the number of authentic ethnic restaurants around these parts (and we tend to love ethnic food!). And even if it's not ethnic, it's just really, really good. I'm a Chicken Pot Pie junkie, and I will tell you that I have eaten the three best Chicken Pot Pies of my life since we've moved here, all from different restaurants. Oh yeah, baby.
5. Bright Lights, Big Cities
All within a four hour drive or train ride: Boston, Philadelphia, Montreal, Providence, and New York City. Add another two hours, and you can snag Baltimore, Toronto, and D.C.
6. Trees
There are many, many things we loved about Oklahoma, and many things we miss about it. The lack of abundant, diverse forests is not one of them. Jerry grew up in Kentucky, with lots of trees. I grew up in Washington, with lots of trees. If you could combine the deciduous forests of Kentucky with the evergreen forests of Washington, you would get the forests of New York State. (Insert prolonged sigh of contentment here).
7. Snow
Everyone here tells us we'll hate the snow next year. That is possible, but I will add: THIS year we love it! We know there will be days when we curse the snow. Overall, however, I think we'll keep liking it. We like playing in it. We like the beauty of it. We like the quietness it evokes. We want to rent snow shoes and cross country skis and take Winter weekend trips to the heart of the Adirondacks. Given a choice, we'd prefer to be cold (or, in my husband's case, cool) as opposed to fainting in the heat. Add to this the fact that my aim with a snowball is superb; therefore, I know there's lots of fun snowball fights in store (for me, at least!).
8. Vermont
Socialism notwithstanding, Vermont is cool. It's pretty, pastoral, quiet, old, and very green (as in the color). And it's a mere 35 miles from our house. Enough said.
9. Culture and Sophistication
This is the part where I will sound like a snob. Jerry and I like nice things. When I say "nice," I do not mean "expensive." I mean "nice" in the sense of having some kind of classical, intellectual or refined quality. Think Frasier and Niles Crane. We are bookish types. We like fine music. We prefer nearly anything to a digital device or television program (unless, of course, that television program happens to be British). See, I told you I would sound like a snob. I think we are discovering, Jerry and I, that the Northeast seems to suit us. It's kind of classical and refined. (Snobby, if you will.) *wink*
10. Oh, Oh, The Places You'll Go
Again, we loved many things about Oklahoma, but one of the things that was very difficult was the DISTANCE of Oklahoma from so much of the rest of the country. If you happen to love Dallas, then you would be okay with that. But for us, with family in distant locations and being the travel junkies we are, it was extremely hard. It was difficult for us to plan trips and such (and again, I say that with much fondness for Oklahoma in my heart). What we have found here is that there is SO MUCH NEARBY. We can take vacations galore for the next ten years and never even leave the region! So new to us!
I did declare in the title of this blog entry that I would mention one thing I dislike. Here it is:
Coffee Options
Here is what I have to choose from in New York: Dunkin Donuts and Starbucks. That. Is. All. I'm still in shock over this one. Once we knew we'd be relocating, my daydreams began: Visiting quaint coffee house after quaint coffee house, delightfully sipping mochas and dark roasts for days on end until finally deciding upon my fave local haunt.
No dice, folks.
There are a few local coffee houses. One of them has the charming eccentricity of the Northwest coffee houses that I loved (but it's fairly far). The others scare me. It's one thing to walk into an eccentric coffee house. It's another to feel, upon walking in, that I may be required to offer up my cat on some sacrificial altar in lieu of payment.
So hear this Albany, New York: When I can definitively say from experience that Arkansas, Oklahoma, and even Texas have BETTER COFFEE THAN UPSTATE NEW YORK, something is dreadfully wrong.
Overall, however, we are pleased. We are enjoying our new life here. We are pleasantly surprised in many ways. We are adjusting happily.
(And I'm thinking of opening up my own coffee house, too. Just in case you were wondering.)
1. People Here are So Dang Friendly
When I say that "people here are friendly," I mean that they are truly, genuinely, amazingly friendly. With no disrespect to Washington, Kentucky, or Oklahoma intended, the people here are THE friendliest people we have EVER met. Our mouths are still gaping open in astonishment on this one.
2. Moisture
It's really moist here, so it reminds us of our homes. It's probably more moist than Kentucky. It might be more moist than Washington (but it probably isn't, judging by the absence of slugs). It's the complete opposite of Oklahoma in this respect. When living in Oklahoma, there were three ways to describe the moisture levels: Borderline Drought, Drought, and Severe Drought. (Oh yes, well that actually describes the lack of moisture, doesn't it? You get the idea.)
3. History Schmistory
The stuff around here is old. We live in a home built in the 1960s, and that's one of the newer ones. I realize that any visiting European would laugh at my calling stuff here "old," and with good reason. But for this American girl who grew up on the West Coast, where a building established in 1909 is ancient, the stuff around here is dang old. Since Jerry and I are history geeks, we are loving this! The first American home with working electricity is located in Albany! When visiting Rhode Island last weekend, we walked by the first Baptist Church in America, founded in 1634! The idea of visiting Plymouth Rock, a mere 3ish hour drive from our home, gives us goosebumps! Before moving here, we hadn't considered the uniqueness of American history to our new location. Icing on the cake!
4. Really Good Food
We've eaten really well since we've moved here. There are no limits to the number of authentic ethnic restaurants around these parts (and we tend to love ethnic food!). And even if it's not ethnic, it's just really, really good. I'm a Chicken Pot Pie junkie, and I will tell you that I have eaten the three best Chicken Pot Pies of my life since we've moved here, all from different restaurants. Oh yeah, baby.
5. Bright Lights, Big Cities
All within a four hour drive or train ride: Boston, Philadelphia, Montreal, Providence, and New York City. Add another two hours, and you can snag Baltimore, Toronto, and D.C.
6. Trees
There are many, many things we loved about Oklahoma, and many things we miss about it. The lack of abundant, diverse forests is not one of them. Jerry grew up in Kentucky, with lots of trees. I grew up in Washington, with lots of trees. If you could combine the deciduous forests of Kentucky with the evergreen forests of Washington, you would get the forests of New York State. (Insert prolonged sigh of contentment here).
7. Snow
Everyone here tells us we'll hate the snow next year. That is possible, but I will add: THIS year we love it! We know there will be days when we curse the snow. Overall, however, I think we'll keep liking it. We like playing in it. We like the beauty of it. We like the quietness it evokes. We want to rent snow shoes and cross country skis and take Winter weekend trips to the heart of the Adirondacks. Given a choice, we'd prefer to be cold (or, in my husband's case, cool) as opposed to fainting in the heat. Add to this the fact that my aim with a snowball is superb; therefore, I know there's lots of fun snowball fights in store (for me, at least!).
8. Vermont
Socialism notwithstanding, Vermont is cool. It's pretty, pastoral, quiet, old, and very green (as in the color). And it's a mere 35 miles from our house. Enough said.
9. Culture and Sophistication
This is the part where I will sound like a snob. Jerry and I like nice things. When I say "nice," I do not mean "expensive." I mean "nice" in the sense of having some kind of classical, intellectual or refined quality. Think Frasier and Niles Crane. We are bookish types. We like fine music. We prefer nearly anything to a digital device or television program (unless, of course, that television program happens to be British). See, I told you I would sound like a snob. I think we are discovering, Jerry and I, that the Northeast seems to suit us. It's kind of classical and refined. (Snobby, if you will.) *wink*
10. Oh, Oh, The Places You'll Go
Again, we loved many things about Oklahoma, but one of the things that was very difficult was the DISTANCE of Oklahoma from so much of the rest of the country. If you happen to love Dallas, then you would be okay with that. But for us, with family in distant locations and being the travel junkies we are, it was extremely hard. It was difficult for us to plan trips and such (and again, I say that with much fondness for Oklahoma in my heart). What we have found here is that there is SO MUCH NEARBY. We can take vacations galore for the next ten years and never even leave the region! So new to us!
I did declare in the title of this blog entry that I would mention one thing I dislike. Here it is:
Coffee Options
Here is what I have to choose from in New York: Dunkin Donuts and Starbucks. That. Is. All. I'm still in shock over this one. Once we knew we'd be relocating, my daydreams began: Visiting quaint coffee house after quaint coffee house, delightfully sipping mochas and dark roasts for days on end until finally deciding upon my fave local haunt.
No dice, folks.
There are a few local coffee houses. One of them has the charming eccentricity of the Northwest coffee houses that I loved (but it's fairly far). The others scare me. It's one thing to walk into an eccentric coffee house. It's another to feel, upon walking in, that I may be required to offer up my cat on some sacrificial altar in lieu of payment.
So hear this Albany, New York: When I can definitively say from experience that Arkansas, Oklahoma, and even Texas have BETTER COFFEE THAN UPSTATE NEW YORK, something is dreadfully wrong.
Overall, however, we are pleased. We are enjoying our new life here. We are pleasantly surprised in many ways. We are adjusting happily.
(And I'm thinking of opening up my own coffee house, too. Just in case you were wondering.)
Monday, September 22, 2014
It's OK
I moved to Oklahoma eight and one half years ago to marry my husband. It wasn't a matter of having some lifelong dream of living in the Plains or simply dying to make my home in Tornado Alley. I moved here because I loved a guy who lived here and we were getting married. I didn't give it much more thought than that.
It didn't take long for me to realize that Oklahoma was (how shall I say this?) a unique place. For instance, take the size of the spiders: ENORMOUS. I didn't like spiders when I lived in Washington, but the buggers out here make even the big guys there look like mere child's play.
Then there's the trucks. Now, every town in America has a truck. But in Oklahoma, 6 out of 10 cars on the road are trucks. And they're the big kind, too, most harboring some over-sized, drooling canine in the cab or the bed.
And I dare not fail to mention the heat. Let's see, how shall I convey the heat of Oklahoma in understandable terms for those who have never lived here? Imagine, if you will, the hottest day you have ever experienced in your life. Multiply that times 10. Add 60 more days exactly like that during the year. For good measure, throw in an electric blanket and turn on the central heating system. (You're getting close.)
All of that said, I haven't exactly been a huge fan of Oklahoma over the past eight years. I don't like spiders, trucks, or heat. But I really love my husband, and my daughter was born in Tulsa. So while I have recognized that good things happen in Oklahoma, there has been about a three-year period of living here during which I did little else but think about how much I'd like to leave it.
It was during this time that the Lord started to teach me some things. Keep in mind that I'm a really slow learner, incredibly mentally stubborn and extremely dense. So even though the Lord is All-Powerful and stuff, there are nitwits like me running around with which He must deal. And deal with me He did, through exceedingly patient means, but not without a well-deserved spanking or two thrown in.
The first clear recollection I have of His Dealing With Me regarding Oklahoma is this: One quarter of a watermelon at the Sonic Drive-In. On a scorcher of an August morning when Lilia was two, I took her to the nearby Sonic play land. The temperature was probably at least 90 and climbing. We took a break from playing to sip our ice waters while gazing out at brown grass and dying trees. I very clearly remember hating Oklahoma.
As we sat there, two middle-aged gentlemen engaged in some manual labor for the restaurant sat down to eat one huge mother of a watermelon for their lunch break. I watched them dive into the melon like schoolboys lapping up popsicles. They talked and laughed and ate, and then they caught sight of the pitiful image of Lilia and I wilting in the unbearable heat.
One of them asked if we would like some watermelon, and before I could form half of a smile, they sliced off a huge section of it for us. So there we sat, my daughter and I, eating watermelon with voracious delight, juice running down our faces and clothes. We laughed and giggled as we ate. Nothing had ever tasted so good before.
I think it was that very moment when something like fondness for Oklahoma entered my heart. Part of it was the simple kindness of those Oklahoman gentleman. Part of it was enjoying sweet relief in the misery of heat. Part of it was watching my daughter's introduction to watermelon. I really can't pin it down exactly, but I do know that God was teaching me something in that moment about gratitude. I still hated Oklahoma and the dead grass and the heat. But I was so thankful for that delicious watermelon.
It was a slow process of growth after that (like I said, I'm extremely dense). There were many occasions of cursing the drought-ridden land and pitifully wailing for topography. (Ask my husband because he heard it all, poor man.) But something happened over the past few years that I can't really explain. I think dear Jim Manry, an Oklahoman from Texas, summed it up best when he told me, "Oklahoma grows on you." It seems strange to be sitting here admitting it, but what he says is true: It does grow on you. Despite the heat and the flatness and the spiders, there is something that is rather -- I suppose -- charming about it.
There are these majestic storms, you see, that roll in from the west, both terrifying and delightful at once. There are hay bails piled in neat rows in pastures along the road. There are oil drills slowly going up and down, up and down with predictable monotony. There are sunsets made of hues for which I don't even know the color.
And there are people, too, people like those two gentleman who gave an exhausted mommy and her little girl nearly one third of their watermelon on a scorching day. There are people like Jim Manry, Kelsey Kennedy, Nietzie Toothaker and Melanie Taylor -- all people I met in Oklahoma, who became friends and touched my life in some beautiful way that I won't forget.
When I think of these things and people, I realize that somehow, I've actually grown to like it here. Like Jim Manry said, it grew on me. It didn't happen quickly; it took a lot of time, and it took some serious chipping away at my hard, stubborn heart. But it did happen. In this past year I accepted that if we stayed, I could obey the Lord in that, with even something like contentment in my heart.
Now we're leaving. And I must admit, I have shed a few tears over the thought of going.
Don't get me wrong, I'm exceedingly thrilled about living in upstate New York with its fall colors, outdoor recreation, and (surprisingly!) very friendly people. I'm jazzed about living less than an hour from the Adirondacks and potentially taking up cross country skiing as a hobby. I can clearly see God's hand in this new chapter of our lives. Jerry and I are delighted.
But I'll miss it here in Oklahoma. I won't miss it in the sense that I'll fondly recall the heat and the spiders and the pseudo monster trucks with the large canines. But I'll miss the uniqueness of it because there is no place like it. And even though I'm incredibly dense, the Lord has managed to teach me gratitude in this place. I don't think I could have learned that lesson so well in any other place but here.
I was driving in my car several weeks ago when the song "Oklahoma!" came on the radio. I smiled reluctantly as the words rang in my ears: "We know we belong to the land, and the land we belong to is grand. And when we say 'Yeeow! Aiyipioeeay!' We're only sayin' you're doin' fine Oklahoma! Oklahoma, O.K."
And it is OK. It really is.
It didn't take long for me to realize that Oklahoma was (how shall I say this?) a unique place. For instance, take the size of the spiders: ENORMOUS. I didn't like spiders when I lived in Washington, but the buggers out here make even the big guys there look like mere child's play.
Then there's the trucks. Now, every town in America has a truck. But in Oklahoma, 6 out of 10 cars on the road are trucks. And they're the big kind, too, most harboring some over-sized, drooling canine in the cab or the bed.
And I dare not fail to mention the heat. Let's see, how shall I convey the heat of Oklahoma in understandable terms for those who have never lived here? Imagine, if you will, the hottest day you have ever experienced in your life. Multiply that times 10. Add 60 more days exactly like that during the year. For good measure, throw in an electric blanket and turn on the central heating system. (You're getting close.)
All of that said, I haven't exactly been a huge fan of Oklahoma over the past eight years. I don't like spiders, trucks, or heat. But I really love my husband, and my daughter was born in Tulsa. So while I have recognized that good things happen in Oklahoma, there has been about a three-year period of living here during which I did little else but think about how much I'd like to leave it.
It was during this time that the Lord started to teach me some things. Keep in mind that I'm a really slow learner, incredibly mentally stubborn and extremely dense. So even though the Lord is All-Powerful and stuff, there are nitwits like me running around with which He must deal. And deal with me He did, through exceedingly patient means, but not without a well-deserved spanking or two thrown in.
The first clear recollection I have of His Dealing With Me regarding Oklahoma is this: One quarter of a watermelon at the Sonic Drive-In. On a scorcher of an August morning when Lilia was two, I took her to the nearby Sonic play land. The temperature was probably at least 90 and climbing. We took a break from playing to sip our ice waters while gazing out at brown grass and dying trees. I very clearly remember hating Oklahoma.
As we sat there, two middle-aged gentlemen engaged in some manual labor for the restaurant sat down to eat one huge mother of a watermelon for their lunch break. I watched them dive into the melon like schoolboys lapping up popsicles. They talked and laughed and ate, and then they caught sight of the pitiful image of Lilia and I wilting in the unbearable heat.
One of them asked if we would like some watermelon, and before I could form half of a smile, they sliced off a huge section of it for us. So there we sat, my daughter and I, eating watermelon with voracious delight, juice running down our faces and clothes. We laughed and giggled as we ate. Nothing had ever tasted so good before.
I think it was that very moment when something like fondness for Oklahoma entered my heart. Part of it was the simple kindness of those Oklahoman gentleman. Part of it was enjoying sweet relief in the misery of heat. Part of it was watching my daughter's introduction to watermelon. I really can't pin it down exactly, but I do know that God was teaching me something in that moment about gratitude. I still hated Oklahoma and the dead grass and the heat. But I was so thankful for that delicious watermelon.
It was a slow process of growth after that (like I said, I'm extremely dense). There were many occasions of cursing the drought-ridden land and pitifully wailing for topography. (Ask my husband because he heard it all, poor man.) But something happened over the past few years that I can't really explain. I think dear Jim Manry, an Oklahoman from Texas, summed it up best when he told me, "Oklahoma grows on you." It seems strange to be sitting here admitting it, but what he says is true: It does grow on you. Despite the heat and the flatness and the spiders, there is something that is rather -- I suppose -- charming about it.
There are these majestic storms, you see, that roll in from the west, both terrifying and delightful at once. There are hay bails piled in neat rows in pastures along the road. There are oil drills slowly going up and down, up and down with predictable monotony. There are sunsets made of hues for which I don't even know the color.
And there are people, too, people like those two gentleman who gave an exhausted mommy and her little girl nearly one third of their watermelon on a scorching day. There are people like Jim Manry, Kelsey Kennedy, Nietzie Toothaker and Melanie Taylor -- all people I met in Oklahoma, who became friends and touched my life in some beautiful way that I won't forget.
When I think of these things and people, I realize that somehow, I've actually grown to like it here. Like Jim Manry said, it grew on me. It didn't happen quickly; it took a lot of time, and it took some serious chipping away at my hard, stubborn heart. But it did happen. In this past year I accepted that if we stayed, I could obey the Lord in that, with even something like contentment in my heart.
Now we're leaving. And I must admit, I have shed a few tears over the thought of going.
Don't get me wrong, I'm exceedingly thrilled about living in upstate New York with its fall colors, outdoor recreation, and (surprisingly!) very friendly people. I'm jazzed about living less than an hour from the Adirondacks and potentially taking up cross country skiing as a hobby. I can clearly see God's hand in this new chapter of our lives. Jerry and I are delighted.
But I'll miss it here in Oklahoma. I won't miss it in the sense that I'll fondly recall the heat and the spiders and the pseudo monster trucks with the large canines. But I'll miss the uniqueness of it because there is no place like it. And even though I'm incredibly dense, the Lord has managed to teach me gratitude in this place. I don't think I could have learned that lesson so well in any other place but here.
I was driving in my car several weeks ago when the song "Oklahoma!" came on the radio. I smiled reluctantly as the words rang in my ears: "We know we belong to the land, and the land we belong to is grand. And when we say 'Yeeow! Aiyipioeeay!' We're only sayin' you're doin' fine Oklahoma! Oklahoma, O.K."
And it is OK. It really is.
Friday, May 9, 2014
The Defense Speaks
Whenever somebody asks me if I have enrolled my daughter into preschool, or which preschool she attends, or when she will start Kindergarten and which school that will happen to be, I address the question in one of three very wimpy ways:
1. I pretend not to hear.
2. I give a half-nod with a half-smile.
3. I mumble something that sounds vaguely similar to "mm-hmm," which could be taken either in the affirmative or the negative. (This last one is my own personal favorite).
If I didn't happen to be one of those individuals who retreats from any form of confrontation like The Plague, and if I didn't mind that glassy-eyed look that inevitably arises when someone clearly suspects me of quirkiness, then I would simply answer their questions candidly: No, she isn't in preschool. No, she won't be in preschool next year, either. No, I'm not enrolling her into Washington Elementary. The fact is, I'm going to home school my daughter.
(Insert awkward glassy-eyed stare and frozen half-smile HERE).
I've entitled this blog "The Defense Speaks" because this is my way of sharing and defending the reasons (we're at 20 and counting) why my husband and I have decided to school our daughter at home. Like I said, I just don't do confrontation. Call me a wimp. Call me yellow. I'm actually prone to agree with you on those points. When it comes right down to it, I write much better than I speak, and blogging my reasons helps to insure me against that dreaded glassy-eyed stare that may come in a face-to-face discussion.
Before I share our reasons, I would like to offer a few disclaimers. First, I am by no means asserting that everyone must home-school their children. I would be lying if I said I didn't think that home school is by far the best option out there, especially for Christian parents; however, many thoughtful and loving parents simply cannot currently pursue this route, or else they feel that another alternative is the best choice for their family. I support those parents who give the schooling decision thoughtful and careful consideration.
Secondly, I know many extremely fine public and private school teachers. Some of them are very good friends of mine. I used to be a classroom teacher. As I lay out these points, I intend absolutely no disrespect to the teaching profession, which is a noble one.
Third, you are more than welcome to disagree with me. If you do, then I probably disagree with you, too, and thank goodness we have the liberty to do that! I will add, however, that the issue of schooling my daughter is not up for debate because she is, well... my daughter. So while you are more than free to engage in a dialogue of ideas with me on this topic, please do not assume you are free to make inroads into our family decision. That means such comments as, "You really shouldn't home school your daughter" or "You aren't doing the best thing for her" will be about as welcome as a pork tenderloin dinner at a Bar Mitzvah. Just fair warning.
Fourth, I tend to get a little snarky when writing about things I feel strongly about. I will try to tame the snarky beast, but please know that I do not intend it in a mean-spirited way. It's really just my means of inserting some humor here and there into the text, and if it gets out of hand, I would like to ask for forgiveness.
Okay, so here goes (and these are in no particular order):
Reason Number One: Developmental Research
The verdict is in, folks. Little kids need to play. They do not need to be sitting at a desk looking at a workbook. They need to PLAY, and outside, if at all possible. They also need to have someone read to them, sing to them, talk to them.
This pertains, of course, to the smaller kiddos (preschool and Kindergarten age). There is certainly a place for workbooks and tracing and learning to write letters at this age. Heck, I do some of that with Lilia at home now. But physiologically speaking, their eyes are still forming, and they need to be outside seeing at varying distances to encourage the proper formation of their eyes. The kind of active brain function that comes through play and communication causes those little dendrites in their brain cells to grow, grow, grow. They need that.
Jerry and I don't believe that a preschool or Kindergarten class will allow for this in the way it is needed.
Reason Number Two: Flexibility
How many times did you wake up on a school day and moan aloud, "If only we could do something fun today!" Well, you get to do this when you are schooling at home.
Don't get me wrong: I happen to be one of those geeky individuals who thinks that school and reading and learning is incredibly fun. But all of us need a break from the monotony of sitting. That is why so many teachers try to make the atmosphere of their classrooms engaging by adding lots of colors and posters and such like. Sitting in class gets boring after awhile. You want to be out doing something. Home school allows for that (and most parents will make their kids sit and do an assignment after the fun activity, anyway).
Reason Number Three: Biblical Worldview
This is super important to Jerry and I. And let's face it, it's probably the main reason why most families decide to home school their children. Jerry and I want Lilia to be taught from a solid Biblical worldview because we not only believe in it, but we believe it is true. That means we think that teaching from a non-Biblical worldview is founded on an erroneous assumption of the nature of existence.
Not every home school parent teaches a biblical worldview. Although I wish they knew God, I'm so glad that secular families are seeing the benefits of home school. I've heard the assumption that home-school is just for "freaky weird religious people." While I would word it a bit differently, yes, most home school families are religious. But many, many families of other religions or no religious persuasion are schooling their kids at home.
Worldview is very important to home school parents.
Reason Number Four: Safety
In all sobriety, I am absolutely positive that Jerry and I will not forcefully enter our home school classroom and begin shooting everyone in sight.
Reason Number Five: Teacher to Student Ratio
For our itty-bitty family, this means a 1:1 teacher/student ratio. Hopefully it will be a 1:2 or perhaps even a 1:3 at some point in the future. Either way, this is faring much better than any public or private school, where even the good ratio is something like 1:14.
And this is just a common sense thing, and it is why so many school districts are trying desperately to reduce the size of their classrooms: It's extremely hard to teach 20 children at once. Let me say that again, as a former classroom teacher: It's extremely hard to teach 20 children at once. It isn't impossible, and lots of good teachers do it well. It's just a lot tougher.
(Of course, if you happen to be the Duggar family, then this point does not apply to you).
Reason Number Six: Individual Personality of the Child
This is a big one for us. No one knows our daughter like we do. And I can tell you, my friends, that if my daughter was in a classroom setting for six to seven hours per day, five days per week, during the fifth to seventh year of her life, she would be bouncing off the walls like she had just ingested twenty-five bags of cotton candy in ten minutes flat. She can barely attend four different activities per week now, totaling no more than 8 hours weekly, without bouncing off the living room walls like a racquet ball. This is partly because she is four, but it is also because she is Lilia. I know other four year olds without this sweet idiosyncrasy.
Which leads me to...
Reason Number Seven: Learning Style and Learning Pace
Lilia is Lilia. She isn't the neighbors across the street or her best friend a few blocks away. She isn't Jane or Moriah or Katie. She's Lilia. She learns the way Lilia is going to learn, she is "fearfully and wonderfully made," which partly means that she is radically unique from every other person in the world.
Will she be a visual or an auditory learner? Will she love the "book stuff" or will she prefer the "hands-on"? Will she need to go for a long walk after only one hour of school, or will she be able to sit for three solid hours doing book work? Also, will she whiz through pre-algebra, or will she need lots of time for review?
Again, any classroom teacher will tell you how difficult it is to meet the individual learning styles of their students. I've been there. It's very, very hard to do.
We can tackle these issues much more easily in a home school setting.
Reason Number Eight: Freedom to Choose and Expand Curricula
It isn't just the flexibility of schedule that is allowed with home school, as I mentioned before, but also the flexibility of curricula. We get to choose which science book we like. We get to choose which math curricula will work best for our family. When our daughter is older, she gets to help make these decisions. The choices are almost exhaustive. Such freedom and flexibility!
Reason Number Nine: Parents teach Social Skills
The "your-child-will-never-be-properly-socialized" argument against home school is not only redundant, it is based on what I believe is a false assumption of what it means to be "socialized" and where this learning primarily takes place.
First, I emphatically believe that children learn their social skills from the home. This begins with mom and dad. If I teach Lilia to be a spoiled and hedonistic little brat, and if I faithfully model this behavior for her day in and day out, then chances are she will exhibit this kind of behavior herself. If Jerry and I bicker and fight all of the time, and if we cannot model a humble and peaceful way of resolving our conflict, then chances are that Lilia will not be very good at resolving conflict, either. This is not to say that she won't have her own weaknesses and strengths regarding social skills. But what she sees from us will be her model, and she will inevitably learn from it, for good or ill.
Secondly, social interaction with one's peers is made readily available in the home school world, especially with so many families moving toward home school. There are home school play dates, field trips, sports events, co-op groups (many of which offer "classrooms" where middle and upper level students learn from a home school parent with particular expertise in a given subject). Not only that, but what about getting together with one's neighborhood friends, or with one's friends from church?
Third, since when does public school hold the monopoly on well-adjusted, socially adept youth???
Finally, Lilia will have no difficulty socializing with anyone. She already makes friends, or attempts to make friends, with every creature breathing. She's the most socially extroverted person I know besides my mother. And that is saying a lot.
Reason Number Ten: Parental Job to Teach
Jerry and I believe that the job to teach children has been given to the parents. Again, this does not mean that every family must home school their children. But whether you send your kids to public school or private school, you will be teaching them something. Parents are their children's teachers.
Reason Number Eleven: Overall Higher Achievement
Home school kids rock the spelling bee, the geography bee, and the standardized test worlds. They get higher grades, generally speaking. They are prone to be more prepared for college, trade school, or the work force.
Reason Number Twelve: Jerry and I are Not Stupid
Jerry and I have fairly well-functioning brains. We're not morons. And we both really, really love to learn. We also possess the geeky tendency of finding pleasure in telling other people about what we learn. Jerry's IQ is stellar. I've never taken mine, but I imagine that while I am not an Einstein, I am probably not Vice President Joe Biden, either.
All of that said, we can adequately teach our daughter. (And just for the record, even if we were morons, we should still have the right to teach her if we wish).
Reason Number Thirteen: I'd Miss the Little Peanut like CRAZY!
Reason Number Fourteen: We Love Her More Than You Do.
Other people love her, but not like we do. Her teachers can love her (and there's some AMAZING teachers out there), but not one of them can love her like we do. When the rubber meets the road, it is our decision how she will be schooled because she is our daughter. She isn't the government's daughter or the local school district's daughter. We know what is best for her.
Reason Number Fifteen: Promotes the Family Bond.
Home school promotes the family relationships. Instead of being separated every day for several hours, parent and children are spending the day together. Since parents are choosing the curricula and material, they are vitally aware of what their children are learning and can address it in a more personal way. Parents often learn lots of things alongside of their children in home school! If there is a discipline issue, the parent deals with it (and in a much more personal way than a teacher is able). All of these factors help to contribute to the promotion of the family bond and family unit.
Reason Number Sixteen: Shelter
Since when is shelter a bad thing? Living in Oklahoma, I can tell you first-hand about shelter: It is there for one's well-being and safety. When there is an F5 tornado pummeling toward your town, you'd better believe that everyone is heading for cover! They want shelter because it keeps them safe. Without it, there is the potential to be either permanently injured or killed.
Home school provides a means of sheltering one's child from factors that can be damaging, whether physically, emotionally, or spiritually.
That is not to say that a parent cannot overly shelter his or her child. This is possible. Although I always believe that too much shelter is better than none, Jerry and I have discussed how we will handle that balance. We have seen this modeled among many families whom we greatly respect:
Generally speaking, a greater amount of "shelter" is provided during the youngest and most impressionable ages, because they are the most prone to be hurt. As they become older, certain issues are gradually introduced in age-appropriate ways. They are discussed from a Biblical perspective so that the child knows how to deal with it through the lens of truth. This continues in more mature ways as the child continues to grow.
In a similar way, when taking shelter from a violent storm, one does not emerge from the shelter immediately after danger has passed. You wait. You listen. You open the door and very carefully look around before taking that first step, just in case. You tread carefully lest there is hidden danger just beneath your feet.
We do not know how Lilia's Kindergarten teacher will handle the issue of shelter. And as Lilia's parents, we are far more capable of knowing when and how to introduce her heart and spirit to the brokenness and rebellion of the world around her. But it will be a process, and it will be at age-appropriate times and not when the school district says she is "ready."
Reason Number Seventeen: No Bullies
I have heard the argument that every child needs to get bullied at school every now and then. I presume that these individuals mean that a child needs to learn how to deal with the bully, and not that it is a good thing to be bullied.
To those individuals, I would like to ask two things:
1. Do you have children?
2. Are you altogether eager to be bullied yourself?
I will assume you do not have children. If you did, I have a feeling you may change your mind.
If you do have children and still think they should get bullied every now and then, well... that is too bad.
I will also assume you are not super jazzed about the thought of getting bullied yourself. And who on earth would be?! My husband was the typical "smart and nerdy kid" in high school (one of the main reasons he makes my toes curl, but that's beside the point). He was, on some level, the victim of bullying. And guess what? It wasn't fun. And guess what else? It caused him some very serious emotional pain.
When I was quite young, I underwent some "bullying" on a small level in school. And guess what? I didn't like it. And guess what else? It hurt me tremendously and contributed to an emotional toll that took years to overcome.
I would like to offer the thought that it is possible to learn how to effectively deal with a bully without actually being bullied. In a similar way, we can learn how to defend ourselves against an extremely hungry and ferocious grizzly bear without actually inviting ourselves to his dinner table just to get a feel for it. Make sense?
Number Eighteen: Less Boredom and More Challenge
Like I said, my hubby has a stellar IQ. He is very humble about it, but he will also tell you that he was bored to tears in school. And the "talented and gifted program" doesn't count, because he was in that, and he was still bored to tears. He remembers one particular project that stimulated him intellectually: It involved making mini Easter Island head statues on a makeshift Easter Island topographic map (or something like that). He loved it, and he still talks about it to this day.
The point is that, in a home school setting, there are far more avenues for challenge and stimulation, especially if one's child happens to be academically gifted. Just think of all the Easter Island heads you could make!
Number Nineteen: I Have Worked in the Public School Setting
Enough said.
Number Twenty: We'd Prefer that Big Brother Stay Out of It.
I really don't want to delve into politics, but I guess I have to do so on some level. The government has its place, of course. That place does not involve telling me what to teach my child, when to teach my child, where to teach my child, and by what means.
(And just as a side note, since the government cannot even handle remedial math calculations in dealing with the national budget, then why on EARTH would I want them teaching my daughter to add?)
Okay, there it is. I think I have given a thorough and thoughtful answer to those who may be prone to ask why we are pursuing home school. I have laid it out as best as I know how. Neither Jerry nor I take this issue lightly. We love our daughter fiercely, and we truly believe that choosing to school her at home will be the best thing for her.
Enough said. The Defense rests.
1. I pretend not to hear.
2. I give a half-nod with a half-smile.
3. I mumble something that sounds vaguely similar to "mm-hmm," which could be taken either in the affirmative or the negative. (This last one is my own personal favorite).
If I didn't happen to be one of those individuals who retreats from any form of confrontation like The Plague, and if I didn't mind that glassy-eyed look that inevitably arises when someone clearly suspects me of quirkiness, then I would simply answer their questions candidly: No, she isn't in preschool. No, she won't be in preschool next year, either. No, I'm not enrolling her into Washington Elementary. The fact is, I'm going to home school my daughter.
(Insert awkward glassy-eyed stare and frozen half-smile HERE).
I've entitled this blog "The Defense Speaks" because this is my way of sharing and defending the reasons (we're at 20 and counting) why my husband and I have decided to school our daughter at home. Like I said, I just don't do confrontation. Call me a wimp. Call me yellow. I'm actually prone to agree with you on those points. When it comes right down to it, I write much better than I speak, and blogging my reasons helps to insure me against that dreaded glassy-eyed stare that may come in a face-to-face discussion.
Before I share our reasons, I would like to offer a few disclaimers. First, I am by no means asserting that everyone must home-school their children. I would be lying if I said I didn't think that home school is by far the best option out there, especially for Christian parents; however, many thoughtful and loving parents simply cannot currently pursue this route, or else they feel that another alternative is the best choice for their family. I support those parents who give the schooling decision thoughtful and careful consideration.
Secondly, I know many extremely fine public and private school teachers. Some of them are very good friends of mine. I used to be a classroom teacher. As I lay out these points, I intend absolutely no disrespect to the teaching profession, which is a noble one.
Third, you are more than welcome to disagree with me. If you do, then I probably disagree with you, too, and thank goodness we have the liberty to do that! I will add, however, that the issue of schooling my daughter is not up for debate because she is, well... my daughter. So while you are more than free to engage in a dialogue of ideas with me on this topic, please do not assume you are free to make inroads into our family decision. That means such comments as, "You really shouldn't home school your daughter" or "You aren't doing the best thing for her" will be about as welcome as a pork tenderloin dinner at a Bar Mitzvah. Just fair warning.
Fourth, I tend to get a little snarky when writing about things I feel strongly about. I will try to tame the snarky beast, but please know that I do not intend it in a mean-spirited way. It's really just my means of inserting some humor here and there into the text, and if it gets out of hand, I would like to ask for forgiveness.
Okay, so here goes (and these are in no particular order):
Reason Number One: Developmental Research
The verdict is in, folks. Little kids need to play. They do not need to be sitting at a desk looking at a workbook. They need to PLAY, and outside, if at all possible. They also need to have someone read to them, sing to them, talk to them.
This pertains, of course, to the smaller kiddos (preschool and Kindergarten age). There is certainly a place for workbooks and tracing and learning to write letters at this age. Heck, I do some of that with Lilia at home now. But physiologically speaking, their eyes are still forming, and they need to be outside seeing at varying distances to encourage the proper formation of their eyes. The kind of active brain function that comes through play and communication causes those little dendrites in their brain cells to grow, grow, grow. They need that.
Jerry and I don't believe that a preschool or Kindergarten class will allow for this in the way it is needed.
Reason Number Two: Flexibility
How many times did you wake up on a school day and moan aloud, "If only we could do something fun today!" Well, you get to do this when you are schooling at home.
Don't get me wrong: I happen to be one of those geeky individuals who thinks that school and reading and learning is incredibly fun. But all of us need a break from the monotony of sitting. That is why so many teachers try to make the atmosphere of their classrooms engaging by adding lots of colors and posters and such like. Sitting in class gets boring after awhile. You want to be out doing something. Home school allows for that (and most parents will make their kids sit and do an assignment after the fun activity, anyway).
Reason Number Three: Biblical Worldview
This is super important to Jerry and I. And let's face it, it's probably the main reason why most families decide to home school their children. Jerry and I want Lilia to be taught from a solid Biblical worldview because we not only believe in it, but we believe it is true. That means we think that teaching from a non-Biblical worldview is founded on an erroneous assumption of the nature of existence.
Not every home school parent teaches a biblical worldview. Although I wish they knew God, I'm so glad that secular families are seeing the benefits of home school. I've heard the assumption that home-school is just for "freaky weird religious people." While I would word it a bit differently, yes, most home school families are religious. But many, many families of other religions or no religious persuasion are schooling their kids at home.
Worldview is very important to home school parents.
Reason Number Four: Safety
In all sobriety, I am absolutely positive that Jerry and I will not forcefully enter our home school classroom and begin shooting everyone in sight.
Reason Number Five: Teacher to Student Ratio
For our itty-bitty family, this means a 1:1 teacher/student ratio. Hopefully it will be a 1:2 or perhaps even a 1:3 at some point in the future. Either way, this is faring much better than any public or private school, where even the good ratio is something like 1:14.
And this is just a common sense thing, and it is why so many school districts are trying desperately to reduce the size of their classrooms: It's extremely hard to teach 20 children at once. Let me say that again, as a former classroom teacher: It's extremely hard to teach 20 children at once. It isn't impossible, and lots of good teachers do it well. It's just a lot tougher.
(Of course, if you happen to be the Duggar family, then this point does not apply to you).
Reason Number Six: Individual Personality of the Child
This is a big one for us. No one knows our daughter like we do. And I can tell you, my friends, that if my daughter was in a classroom setting for six to seven hours per day, five days per week, during the fifth to seventh year of her life, she would be bouncing off the walls like she had just ingested twenty-five bags of cotton candy in ten minutes flat. She can barely attend four different activities per week now, totaling no more than 8 hours weekly, without bouncing off the living room walls like a racquet ball. This is partly because she is four, but it is also because she is Lilia. I know other four year olds without this sweet idiosyncrasy.
Which leads me to...
Reason Number Seven: Learning Style and Learning Pace
Lilia is Lilia. She isn't the neighbors across the street or her best friend a few blocks away. She isn't Jane or Moriah or Katie. She's Lilia. She learns the way Lilia is going to learn, she is "fearfully and wonderfully made," which partly means that she is radically unique from every other person in the world.
Will she be a visual or an auditory learner? Will she love the "book stuff" or will she prefer the "hands-on"? Will she need to go for a long walk after only one hour of school, or will she be able to sit for three solid hours doing book work? Also, will she whiz through pre-algebra, or will she need lots of time for review?
Again, any classroom teacher will tell you how difficult it is to meet the individual learning styles of their students. I've been there. It's very, very hard to do.
We can tackle these issues much more easily in a home school setting.
Reason Number Eight: Freedom to Choose and Expand Curricula
It isn't just the flexibility of schedule that is allowed with home school, as I mentioned before, but also the flexibility of curricula. We get to choose which science book we like. We get to choose which math curricula will work best for our family. When our daughter is older, she gets to help make these decisions. The choices are almost exhaustive. Such freedom and flexibility!
Reason Number Nine: Parents teach Social Skills
The "your-child-will-never-be-properly-socialized" argument against home school is not only redundant, it is based on what I believe is a false assumption of what it means to be "socialized" and where this learning primarily takes place.
First, I emphatically believe that children learn their social skills from the home. This begins with mom and dad. If I teach Lilia to be a spoiled and hedonistic little brat, and if I faithfully model this behavior for her day in and day out, then chances are she will exhibit this kind of behavior herself. If Jerry and I bicker and fight all of the time, and if we cannot model a humble and peaceful way of resolving our conflict, then chances are that Lilia will not be very good at resolving conflict, either. This is not to say that she won't have her own weaknesses and strengths regarding social skills. But what she sees from us will be her model, and she will inevitably learn from it, for good or ill.
Secondly, social interaction with one's peers is made readily available in the home school world, especially with so many families moving toward home school. There are home school play dates, field trips, sports events, co-op groups (many of which offer "classrooms" where middle and upper level students learn from a home school parent with particular expertise in a given subject). Not only that, but what about getting together with one's neighborhood friends, or with one's friends from church?
Third, since when does public school hold the monopoly on well-adjusted, socially adept youth???
Finally, Lilia will have no difficulty socializing with anyone. She already makes friends, or attempts to make friends, with every creature breathing. She's the most socially extroverted person I know besides my mother. And that is saying a lot.
Reason Number Ten: Parental Job to Teach
Jerry and I believe that the job to teach children has been given to the parents. Again, this does not mean that every family must home school their children. But whether you send your kids to public school or private school, you will be teaching them something. Parents are their children's teachers.
Reason Number Eleven: Overall Higher Achievement
Home school kids rock the spelling bee, the geography bee, and the standardized test worlds. They get higher grades, generally speaking. They are prone to be more prepared for college, trade school, or the work force.
Reason Number Twelve: Jerry and I are Not Stupid
Jerry and I have fairly well-functioning brains. We're not morons. And we both really, really love to learn. We also possess the geeky tendency of finding pleasure in telling other people about what we learn. Jerry's IQ is stellar. I've never taken mine, but I imagine that while I am not an Einstein, I am probably not Vice President Joe Biden, either.
All of that said, we can adequately teach our daughter. (And just for the record, even if we were morons, we should still have the right to teach her if we wish).
Reason Number Thirteen: I'd Miss the Little Peanut like CRAZY!
Reason Number Fourteen: We Love Her More Than You Do.
Other people love her, but not like we do. Her teachers can love her (and there's some AMAZING teachers out there), but not one of them can love her like we do. When the rubber meets the road, it is our decision how she will be schooled because she is our daughter. She isn't the government's daughter or the local school district's daughter. We know what is best for her.
Reason Number Fifteen: Promotes the Family Bond.
Home school promotes the family relationships. Instead of being separated every day for several hours, parent and children are spending the day together. Since parents are choosing the curricula and material, they are vitally aware of what their children are learning and can address it in a more personal way. Parents often learn lots of things alongside of their children in home school! If there is a discipline issue, the parent deals with it (and in a much more personal way than a teacher is able). All of these factors help to contribute to the promotion of the family bond and family unit.
Reason Number Sixteen: Shelter
Since when is shelter a bad thing? Living in Oklahoma, I can tell you first-hand about shelter: It is there for one's well-being and safety. When there is an F5 tornado pummeling toward your town, you'd better believe that everyone is heading for cover! They want shelter because it keeps them safe. Without it, there is the potential to be either permanently injured or killed.
Home school provides a means of sheltering one's child from factors that can be damaging, whether physically, emotionally, or spiritually.
That is not to say that a parent cannot overly shelter his or her child. This is possible. Although I always believe that too much shelter is better than none, Jerry and I have discussed how we will handle that balance. We have seen this modeled among many families whom we greatly respect:
Generally speaking, a greater amount of "shelter" is provided during the youngest and most impressionable ages, because they are the most prone to be hurt. As they become older, certain issues are gradually introduced in age-appropriate ways. They are discussed from a Biblical perspective so that the child knows how to deal with it through the lens of truth. This continues in more mature ways as the child continues to grow.
In a similar way, when taking shelter from a violent storm, one does not emerge from the shelter immediately after danger has passed. You wait. You listen. You open the door and very carefully look around before taking that first step, just in case. You tread carefully lest there is hidden danger just beneath your feet.
We do not know how Lilia's Kindergarten teacher will handle the issue of shelter. And as Lilia's parents, we are far more capable of knowing when and how to introduce her heart and spirit to the brokenness and rebellion of the world around her. But it will be a process, and it will be at age-appropriate times and not when the school district says she is "ready."
Reason Number Seventeen: No Bullies
I have heard the argument that every child needs to get bullied at school every now and then. I presume that these individuals mean that a child needs to learn how to deal with the bully, and not that it is a good thing to be bullied.
To those individuals, I would like to ask two things:
1. Do you have children?
2. Are you altogether eager to be bullied yourself?
I will assume you do not have children. If you did, I have a feeling you may change your mind.
If you do have children and still think they should get bullied every now and then, well... that is too bad.
I will also assume you are not super jazzed about the thought of getting bullied yourself. And who on earth would be?! My husband was the typical "smart and nerdy kid" in high school (one of the main reasons he makes my toes curl, but that's beside the point). He was, on some level, the victim of bullying. And guess what? It wasn't fun. And guess what else? It caused him some very serious emotional pain.
When I was quite young, I underwent some "bullying" on a small level in school. And guess what? I didn't like it. And guess what else? It hurt me tremendously and contributed to an emotional toll that took years to overcome.
I would like to offer the thought that it is possible to learn how to effectively deal with a bully without actually being bullied. In a similar way, we can learn how to defend ourselves against an extremely hungry and ferocious grizzly bear without actually inviting ourselves to his dinner table just to get a feel for it. Make sense?
Number Eighteen: Less Boredom and More Challenge
Like I said, my hubby has a stellar IQ. He is very humble about it, but he will also tell you that he was bored to tears in school. And the "talented and gifted program" doesn't count, because he was in that, and he was still bored to tears. He remembers one particular project that stimulated him intellectually: It involved making mini Easter Island head statues on a makeshift Easter Island topographic map (or something like that). He loved it, and he still talks about it to this day.
The point is that, in a home school setting, there are far more avenues for challenge and stimulation, especially if one's child happens to be academically gifted. Just think of all the Easter Island heads you could make!
Number Nineteen: I Have Worked in the Public School Setting
Enough said.
Number Twenty: We'd Prefer that Big Brother Stay Out of It.
I really don't want to delve into politics, but I guess I have to do so on some level. The government has its place, of course. That place does not involve telling me what to teach my child, when to teach my child, where to teach my child, and by what means.
(And just as a side note, since the government cannot even handle remedial math calculations in dealing with the national budget, then why on EARTH would I want them teaching my daughter to add?)
Okay, there it is. I think I have given a thorough and thoughtful answer to those who may be prone to ask why we are pursuing home school. I have laid it out as best as I know how. Neither Jerry nor I take this issue lightly. We love our daughter fiercely, and we truly believe that choosing to school her at home will be the best thing for her.
Enough said. The Defense rests.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)