Like I Have Time For This?

When I lived in Colorado, I used to hang out with a lot of poets and writers. In fact, every Monday evening, I’d attend a critique session with about a half dozen other writers. We’d drink coffee and critique each other and shoot the breeze a bit. Talk about the writing life, ya know?

And when I told them I had to move to Pennsylvania, the first thing they said was: Okay, but you’re still gonna call in on Mondays, right? You can just teleconference in, right? So, every Monday night, I call in and they put me on speaker phone, and I still talk with these writers I’ve known for years, and it’s been a terrific sanity-saver for me these past months, staving off the homesickness and all that.

One of them has a daughter who’s a sophomore in high school this year, and I’ve spent the past three months diplomatically Not-Saying-Anything every time I hear what’s happening with this woman’s daughter (who I’ve known since she was 6 years old) at the local public high school. They all know I homeschool, but they’re not exactly supportive of it. In their mind, I’m crazy because I’m keeping the kids at home instead of sending them off to school and affording myself hours and hours of free time in which I could be penning The Great American Novel.

Yeah. Whatever.

So, I never mention homeschooling, except for the rare occasions when I slip up and complain that I couldn’t find any time to write that week. Then they’re quite quick to say: Have you considered just putting them in school? At all? Are you EVER going to put them in school? EVER? That’s when I have to draw the line as gently but as clearly as possible: This Is Not Open For Discussion. That’s the only time I discuss homeschooling with them: to tell them, in effect, to BACK THE HELL OFF.

Meanwhile, this woman with the sophomore in high school has recently put her daughter on anti-depressants which were recommended by various school officials and psychologists to help the girl deal with the social pressures that are closing in all around her. Apparently, the final straw that led to the prescription medication was constant harrassment because the girl likes to eat vegetables during lunch instead of the more standard socially acceptable fare of french fries and devil dogs washed down with a 32-oz Pepsi.

And when the woman told the group this, everyone murmured their agreement, that anti-depressants surely must be the answer. After all, it’s what the school recommended. Right? And little old me listening in via speakerphone felt grateful for the first time that I wasn’t sitting there in the room with them. Because they would have been able to see me BEATING MY HEAD AGAINST THE WALL AND BITING MY LIP TILL IT BLED with the effort required to keep myself from screaming:

AND THAT SOUNDS REASONABLE TO YOU???? YOUR DAUGHTER IS TAKING MEDICATION JUST TO BE ABLE TO SIT WITH HER PEERS AT A LUNCH TABLE AND EAT CARROTS! AND YOU’RE OKAY WITH THAT????

I just got off the phone with the group tonight, and I got the latest installment about the Sophomore In High School, and believe it or not, the anti-depressants just aren’t helping. In fact, the social situation is even worse. There was a boyfriend but that’s apparently ended, and now for some unknown reason all her friends have become her bitter enemies and are ganging up on her. The girl is now taking different strategic routes all over the building to get to her classes because she’s afraid of running into the group of girls who have gotten into the habit of laying in wait for her just to continue the harrassment. My friend’s daughter lives each school day in fear now, and has desperately asked her mother to transfer her to another school. Or to be homeschooled.

Yep. That’s right. The kid wants to be homeschooled. I SWEAR I had nothing to do with it.

My friend is actually considering a part-time homeschool gig for her daughter now. Because it’s gotten THAT bad. This, from a woman who has quietly made it clear that she thinks I’m ruining my career as a writer by being a homeschooler.

Somebody…cue the Hallelujah Chorus.

Oh wait. I’ll just do it myself. Again:

So, we’re studying ancient history this year, using The Story of the World, Volume 1 by Susan Wise Bauer. Lots of people have complained that Bauer’s history is a bit too heavy on war and battle as its central theme, and yeah, maybe it is, but if you ask me, so what? Isn’t most of the history of the world a little bit heavy on war and battle?

And then people said, Well, she wrote it that way because she’s got three boys. Of course she’d play up the war and battles. What little boy doesn’t want a whole lotta blood and gore and war in his history. Right? Oh, it’s fine for boys. But what about our delicate, darling daughters?

So, if you’re like me, and you enjoy worrying about homeschooling as a hobby, and you have only daughters, you might seize upon this fact as an excellent point of concern. Is Bauer’s series an adequate history text for girls? Particularly for the daughters of a long-time liberal feminist who majored in History and Political Science and certainly doesn’t want her girls to grow up to be…well…all… you know… GIRLY. Not that I want them joining the military, mind you, but please God, don’t let my babies grow up to be Barbies. You know what I’m talking about here, right?

So, anyway. If you’ve been worrying about that at all, I’m here to tell you that you can stop now and move on to other more exciting homeschooling worries, like is my spelling program really working? or that old classic standby: Saxon or Singapore. Because Bauer’s text seems to have no effect on the natural ability of girls to stand up and say: Hey, wait just a damn minute. That ain’t right.

We’ve reached ancient Greece in the text, and we’ve stopped to browse a bit. Last week, we read Chapter 22: Sparta and Athens, in which we read a nice basic introduction of the two city-states. How Sparta was more warlike and Athens more democratic. And how both societies believed that women were unequal to men, and women couldn’t vote or do anything except cook and clean and such.

And after we were done reading the chapter, and we did the review questions, and it was time for my 7-year-old to give me a narration of the reading, the first thing out of her mouth was a resounding, indignant:

“I THINK WOMEN ARE VERY IMPORTANT!”

And then, she began to go into the many reasons for her opinion and then she stopped and checked herself, because she realized suddenly that what she was saying wasn’t exactly what had been in the chapter. And she looked a little worried for a moment, like she’d be “in trouble” for not giving an accurate narration.

Like I’d ever stop her from telling anyone why women are important.

Other than a gentle, “Keep going, hon. You’re fine,” I kept as quiet as I could. But in my head, I was all:

I tell you…it was my finest moment yet as a liberal-feminist homeschooling mom.

Many, many thanks to Kitten over at kitten’s homeschool for passing me this cute little thing:

And may I just say, Kitten dear…right back atcha!

If I may quote Ricardo Montalban: Smiles, everyone! Smiles!

Enjoy your homeschooling day, everybody. Smile and maybe have something extra special for snack time. Make today a little bit extra nice and giggly for the kids, if you can. Greet each difficult moment with a hug and a smile and chances are, you’ll get some back.