Why homeschooling? Part 1

When I was nineteen and taking a year off from college, I went to visit an ex-nun friend of mind, Virginia Mary Osborne, in Hudson, New York, where she was living on an intentional farm community for developmentally disabled adults. Virginia, then in her mid-forties, had in two short years become a major influence on my view of the world. We had worked together on a farm when she was still part of the convent, weeding in her flowing black robes which only came off for a swim across the lake in her black Speedo bathing suit. Her spiritual life was so strong and positive that it flowed out of her and into all the communities, friends, and people in need she frequented. It was impossible not to be influenced for the better by her.

One night while visiting, we paid a call to a family she knew nearby with a seventeen-year-old son. "He's homeschooled," she told me excitedly. I'd never met a homeschooled person before, to my knowledge, so I was curious.

He was different than anyone I'd ever met in my years of schooling (elementary through high school in elite private schools, and one year at a top private university, from which I was then taking a years' break). He was centered, and calm. He seemed older than his seventeen years by quite a bit. Just being near him his emotional intelligence was palpable. Meeting him left an indelible impression and the seed of someday homeschooling my own kids.

Sitting with this exceptional young man I began to wonder if part of my lack of inner well-being was related to education (something I wasn't taught in the midst of all the many wonderful things I'd learned), or if, perhaps, homeschooling could be one answer to raising emotionally intact young people.

Next time I'll tell you about the very special farm where Virginia & I met, and why I ended up there, and how at 16 it permanently changed my view of education.

Beginning again

The most notable thing about beginning homeschooling is that I'm having a chance to relive my education...and add to it.

While trying to make up my mind about homeschooling, I one day had this wonderful visual epiphany: The school bus pulls up in a nearby meadow, everyone else jumps on, and we are left behind in a field of dandelions. After the momentary panic, I realize we are in a field of dandelions, the sunlight straying through the leaves and the grasses, the gentle breeze soothing us with its subtle sounds in the tops of nearby maple trees. My boys immediately start asking questions about dandelions, bugs, clouds, we play, we read, and suddenly it is not the panic of being left behind but an education happening.

It's this vision I look forward to sharing with you as it fleshes itself out with each new day.

And I promise to 'get real' when I hit burnout in the dim, snow-buried months of winter here in Maine!