Homeward (Part 6): For the Common Good

One particular argument against bringing our children home came from the "socialization" camp and it caught me quite off-guard.  Having made the decision to bring them home no matter what others thought, I was congratulating myself on being so aware of the temptation to be prideful that I was blindsided by a particular outside appeal against homeschooling aimed directly at my pride in my children as human beings.  The inadvertent assaults on my soul-centered Achilles heel, made me check my own motivations in a more robust sense.

One friend casually commented, “I’m so surprised you are homeschooling, I had no idea any of your kids were having problems in school!”  Wait. . .what?  From another, my pride piqued ears heard, “Your children are so well behaved. . .they are such good boys. . .they set a wonderful example for other children, how can you shut that up in your house?”  How could I dare deprive a corner of the world from the blessing of my children?   And even more, “. . .they are important to our school. . .we would be very sad to lose them.”  Ah, my children are indispensible. . .important. . .loved. . .admired. . .needed.  These teased my arrogant soul into reconsidering our decision, kind of late in the game.

I’m almost embarrassed to mention this obstacle.  At first, I thought about whether mentioning it could be construed as a backward step into boasting.  After all, as their mother, I also think they are pretty decent boys.  I’d love to think they are notably well-behaved!  What mother wouldn’t want to hear that?  One of my greatest hopes is that we are raising boys who contribute to society with kindness, honesty, faith, and love.  So, when somebody notices these things in my children, I am immediately moved to listen closer. When somebody implies that bringing them home to school will remove the essential impact they have in our community, I am pridefully paused.

I think this sense of being important in the world is actually a very effective tool of the tempter.  But, by God's mercy, in the midst of my mulling, I had the great fortune to read a most illuminating story of suffering and survival, written by a young mother with cancer.  Her story was so moving and inspiring, but the thing that struck me with the greatest force was her spiritual awakening to the truth that, while we are special and beloved children of God, we must be humble in realizing our smallness in the great scheme of things.  Often, we must be willing to give up greatness and the "big" things of this world so that God alone can be pleased with our gifts.   And, realizing this smallness frees us to choose those things that are pleasing to God and beneficial to our lives and our families, even to the average bystander they appear insignificant and cellular.  This, afterall, is our primary vocation in parenthood.  We needn’t spend so much valuable time worrying about how to please everyone and make big splashes in the world through our efforts and contributions.  Instead, we can be liberated from the obligation to become preoccupied with the world’s many good works, if we are focused on the anointed work of raising our children for the Lord.

So, my husband and I were prompted to spend some time considering how homeschooling our children played a part in our overall vocation of parenthood.  We thought carefully about if taking them out of a classroom necessarily meant removing from them the capacity to be contributors to society.  Obviously, it does not.  And, moreover, we saw the great value the investment of homeschooling would be in the microcosm of our children’s lives.  We began to recognize, in the humility, that being noticed and appreciated in the big world of school and society really isn’t superior to the potential impact we could make in our children’s lives, if we homeschooled.

My child may never again get awards for "good behavior" or various other classroom merits and recognitions, but this, too, can be a great lesson in doing all those good things anyway.  Even if nobody is there to see it.  Even if there is no certificate or end-of-the-year reward, their father and I will see and know the good they do for each other and for the world around them.  And, while it may not be in front a classroom of peers, I know for certain that homeschool can afford a multitude of other opportunities to serve and be Jesus for others.

Ultimately, the question became: Are our children’s school relationships really the best source for their social context and contribution or is this merely the de facto established by anorm that prescribes sending them to school from August to May, 5 days a week, 7 hours each day?  This is an honest question with which we struggle—present tense.

I’m not a psychologist or a sociologist.  I’m not trained to decipher all the statistics of how well homeschooled or traditionally schooled children turn out.  But, I am ever convinced that homeschool doesn’t ruin a child just as sending them to school isn’t the salvific answer to all social woes.  There are, no doubt, challenges and obstacles in homeschooling even as there have been both challenges and obstacles in our traditional school settings.  And I am certain that we are sufficiently prepared to help our children overcome any difficulty, just as we’ve always done.  Or, we will change course again.