Facing an Unschooling Train Wreck, Part 2

Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of God. Blessed are they which are persecuted for righteousness' sake: for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are you, when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely, for my sake.  
(Matt. 5: 9-11)

Hear the word of the LORD, you who tremble at his word: "Your own people who hate you, and exclude you because of my name, have said, 'Let the LORD be glorified, that we may see your joy!' Yet they will be put to shame."  (Isaiah 66:5)


To return to the issue of confidence in homeschooling and what drew me to the promise of empowerment in radical unschooling:  here I have to face some demons. A certain amount of the self-doubt that I have experienced was inflicted by others close to me who did not believe in me, who didn't think I was doing a great job of parenting and thought there was something wrong with my child. This has left deep scars. I had great confidence in the beginning of the journey, but I was criticized and attacked so many times that my joy in our lifestyle, and my ability to trust in others and myself, was eroded by people who I feel should have been supportive. Beezy's academic progress was judged as not good enough. Bringing these instances of injustice to light resulted in more of the same, in a widening circle. I try to understand that we are all wounded, and sometimes pain is manifest in the tearing down of others. Fear replaces faith. I must take responsibility for my own feelings and reactions in order to heal.

In June my family went to a Renaissance Faire, and a story teller/empathic healer looked into my eyes. She noted my dark-rimmed, blue-grey irises, what she called "sky eyes", which spoke of my strong core and the fact that I don't let anyone push me around. She also saw something else; that my soul had broken apart like the breaking up of a frozen lake. But the pieces were not the usual chunks of ice. They were like shards of glass. I knew it was true, because I started crying. The only thing I don't know for sure is exactly which pieces are still cutting me.

My hope that trust can be restored is consistently dashed each time I choose to believe again. In what universe is it okay to tell your sister that her beloved child will grow up to be a serial killer? People have chosen to think the worst of me and my family. Optimism is in my nature, but so is deep sensitivity. If I pull these shards out of my heart, will I bleed to death?

Maybe this is why I identify with the fallen guru, Dee. Something happened to shatter her too. Her problems are so much uglier than mine. My life is good, my husband and I are happy together, and our child is thriving. Yet in Dee's story I see magnified a darkness that I still have to face.

Perhaps women are especially vulnerable to doubting ourselves. We have been conditioned by society, family, and school to blend in. We should not be too loud or opinionated, should not call attention to ourselves or veer too far from the mainstream. We shouldn't make it too apparent how smart and talented we really are. We most especially should not have the audacity to think that we can educate our own children without certified experts. We are taught to feel guilty if we do not run with the other lemmings and drown in the sea. What's expected is a mass suicide of our spirits. And what's worse, it is often other women who cause us the most harm. We are conditioned to compete with one another and to soothe our jealousy by tearing each other down. Right and left we are silenced. I have so often been told that I am wrong in every way. Shit.

Radical unschooling was supposed to lift families out of the mire, but all they received instead was another oppressive, dictatorial dogma. Another cult of let's-all-think-the-same. A glossy cover with pseudo-intellectual twaddle inside. More insanity. I am so sensitive to beauty, and subsequently to ugliness. I didn't want to believe the RU train wreck I was seeing.

There is one, full-proof, saving grace. Karen DeBeus asserted in her ebook, Called Home, that if you are homeschooling, it is because you have been called to do it.  I was chosen, by God himself, for this vocation. I obediently have answered the call, and I have endured the persecution. I will not ignore my Lord. I will not stay on the sickening merry-go-round others invite me to play on. I will not continue to pound on closed doors, and I will not open my own to scorn and hate. God alone. God alone. God alone. 

Called Home

I finished both of Karen DeBeus' ebooks, and I give them a thumbs up! I am going to take her advice in Called Home and declare a moratorium for a few days on researching and planning our homeschooling. This is the time when many mothers are getting their curriculum materials together, or those new to homeschooling are frantically researching methods. We have so much information at our finger tips, with tons of books, websites, blogs, email and Facebook groups, that it is easy to look to outside sources for validation and guidance. We are blessed to have all of this support, but it can also be terribly distracting. Developing a solid philosophy and having a method that works for your family is important, but "Seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things will be added unto you."

I've actually had my planning done for months, but I still have been ordering additional books to use, and I've continued to dwell upon what Catholic Natural Learning will look like come fall. I have been praying rosaries for the intention of receiving the wisdom I need. It is dawning on me that there really are no limits to true freedom if I am always following the will of God. If my will is aligned with God's, then the boundaries of the Faith will be a garden of roses, and I need not fear the thorns. Our homeschool will be unique, like no one else's. So now I want to really focus on the word of God, prayer, and contemplation, and do nothing else. I will look to the Church for her writings on education soon and begin a deeper study of those teachings, but for now, it's just me and God (and Mary of course, who always leads to Divine Wisdom). It's time to go inward, be still, and listen. No FB groups, no reading of others' blogs, no planning in my journal. Just prayer and reflection, breathing, and sitting at the feet of Jesus.

The Vintage Homeschool

Recently while traveling in upstate NY, I was browsing at a flea market when I thought of a new blog concept: the vintage homeschool. I have a lot of antique, vintage and second hand stuff in my home, plus Amish furniture, my own collage art creations, and shabby chic influences. I had picked up the vintage Catholic school book I mentioned earlier, and something clicked. I want to give my child an old-fashioned Catholic education, but at home and without the mean nuns. Actually, I have heard mostly of nice nuns. Anyway, I googled to see if anyone else had come up with this idea already and found Karen DeBeus' blog, "Simply Living...for Him". She has two ebooks which I have purchased, so once finished reading I will review those.

Karen's take on the vintage homeschool is different form mine, but in a way it's along the same lines. She and a friend coined the term while discussing simplifying their homeschooling. She refers to the pioneer homeschoolers of 25 years ago, who began educating their children at home with none of the modern conveniences, such as large curriculum fairs and the internet. They must have relied on libraries and garage sales mostly...and God. Mostly God. While I was obsessively studying unschooling, it occurred to me that I was losing focus on my Catholic faith, and that wasn't a good sign. When I put my focus back where it belongs, I started to see the negative aspects of radical unschooling, and I wrote about them. I witnessed some worst case scenarios and couldn't see how a "freedom without limits" philosophy could be Catholicized. At the core, I don't think it can. At the same time, the simplicity, joy, gentleness, and peace being portrayed by unschooling advocates like Dayna Martin really appealed to me--and still does.

It seems like being a Christian parent should lead to respecting children, but I have noticed by observing myself and others that it doesn't necessarily follow. I remember taking my parents to the counter-cultural art and music festival called ComFest (Community Festival) in Columbus when I lived there. It was begun in the 1960s as a Vietnam War protest, and to this day is put on entirely by volunteerism, with no corporate sponsorship. Free music concerts all weekend on five stages! My mom commented that people at ComFest were even nicer than people at church. When I think in terms of radical unschooling simply, without getting caught up in the secular, anti-teaching dogma, I parent better. I am kinder, and I feel so much more peaceful. And it's important to say, I can do this without abnegating my parental authority. Children and parents are equal persons in the eyes of God, but we are not the same. We have different roles and responsibilities. I had to separate the wheat from the chaff, and there is gold to be found in embracing the freedom that this life offers, but for me only in terms of putting God--and the teachings of Jesus' Church--first.

Those pioneer homeschoolers were unschoolers. They had to start from scratch and figure out how children naturally learn, and how to relate differently to their children, to find better ways to educate them and be with them. They had to shift the paradigm. I am beginning to see life/natural learning as part of the simplicity movement, and of getting back to a healthy family unit as the bedrock of society. Entrepreneurship, family businesses and farms of which children are a part, self-reliance, safe food and products, environmental sustainability, voluntary poverty, and thriving local communities do not have to be a thing of the past. We can live it, starting today, one holy day at a time.