I remember joking one day with my sister-in-law that I would probably enjoy homeschooling all of my children…except for Aurora. I had tried to give her piano lessons, and it just was not a good fit. She didn’t learn well from me. Every time I tried to correct a mistake she would yell at me. I was certain she was better off with anyone else as a teacher.
Besides, I had my life planned out. As soon as my youngest was in Kindergarten, I was going to get my teaching certificate and get a job teaching middle school.
Right. Everything always works how we plan it.
One day when Aurora was in third grade, I spent an hour and a half volunteering in her classroom. My assignment from the teacher was to conduct an art project on one side of the room. The kids came to my table in small groups while the rest of the class worked on other things.
The first group came to my table, and I supervised as they dipped their sponges in paint and decorated their papers. It really was a cute project. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as the teacher had the remaining students work on finishing a collage they had started the previous day. They were putting together calendars to give to their parents for Christmas. I glanced at Aurora as she enthusiastically and meticulously worked on her collage. It seemed she was a bit behind. She had only finished about a quarter of hers when others began to finish.
The second group came to my table. The teacher gave directions to the rest of the class that when they finished their collages they should move onto finishing up a packet they had been assigned about Native Americans. I glanced at Aurora again. She continued to work on her collage, completely oblivious to the fact that most kids had moved on.
The third group came to my table. The teacher asked the students to straighten up their desk areas and prepare for math once they finished their Native American assignments. Aurora continued to work on her collage.
Aurora was in the fourth group to join me at my table. As the students did the art project with me, the teacher started into a review of a math concept they had discussed the previous day. She asked those who were doing their art projects with me to please “try to listen in while you are back there”. Right. Well, some kids can do that. Mine sure can’t.
The fifth and final group came to my table. As I worked with this last group, I watched my daughter sit in her seat, pull out a book, and read as the teacher continued the math review in front of the class. She hadn’t quite finished her collage (though it was pretty close–and very well done); she had never even attempted the Native American assignment; and her desk was a disaster.
This was an eye-opening experience for me. Now, most days are not that chaotic in a third grade classroom, but I certainly had a better understanding of where the teacher was coming from when she said that Aurora was struggling to turn in assignments. Where were they? Well, they were in the depths of her messy desk unfinished. Unless they were assignments she liked. In that case, they were beautiful masterpieces…slightly less unfinished.
I could see what I had been denying for the last three years: public school was not a great fit for Aurora.
But, don’t forget, homeschool was also not a great fit. In my mind anyway.
I didn’t really know what to do. Aurora was struggling to pay attention. She was well behind her peers in life skills like organizing time and space. And she was just starting to fall behind in math. Aurora had skated by with only a passing glance toward math through Kindergarten, first, and second grade. She was bright and somehow was able to intuitively grasp math concepts without much effort…or attention. That seemed to be changing in third grade. She struggled with having to memorize math facts, and couldn’t seem to move past that hurdle. Her attitude toward math and toward all of school began to change. Instead of, “I love school” and “I can do this”, I began to hear, “I don’t want to go to school” and “I’m too stupid for this”.
Volunteering that day in Aurora’s class planted a tiny seed of “what if?” in my head.
What if she continues to hate school? What if she keeps saying she is stupid? What if she really believes that? What if other kids start saying that? What if she were in a smaller class where the teacher could focus more on her? What if she could work on her project as long as she wanted to and then move to the next thing?
What if I just try homeschooling?
No, I had to stop that thought right there. I really did not want to do that. I felt a line from the 1994 version of Little Women continually coming to my mind: “We’d kill each other.”
What if I just try homeschooling?
No. I have different plans for my life.
So I ignored it.
Until one day about a month after this experience I was praying and thinking about Aurora and I felt very strongly, kind of all of a sudden, You need to homeschool Aurora.
I don’t want to.
But I will if it’s the right thing.
It is.
I spent a month reading and prepping. And I pulled her out of public school.
And guess what? We haven’t killed each other yet.
So when people ask me why I homeschool now, I am not really sure what to say.
I homeschool because Aurora has ADHD and struggled in public school.
I homeschool because public school was not a good fit for Aurora.
I homeschool because I have always wanted to be a teacher.
I homeschool because I felt like God guided me to it.
Now I might even answer, I homeschool because I enjoy it…well…parts of it…sometimes.