HOME-EDUCATION
When I was growing up I never
once thought of home-educating my future children. I didn't
even know the option existed.
But once Tadhg was born I got
involved with the breastfeeding support group La Leche
League. Now, Ireland is very much a bottle-feeding
culture and so the women who choose to breastfeed here tend to
do other things that are a bit different. Including
home-educating their children.
Peter and I were very taken
with this idea. Neither of us had been happy in our own school
experiences, his in England and mine in Ireland. Neither of us
was bullied. Both of us had good - and in several cases, great
- teachers. But we both experienced that traditional schooling
was very limiting.
This is absolutely not a
criticism of teachers. On the contrary, the more I learn about
education and learning, the more in awe I am of how good a job
teachers do. It’s the very concept of formal schooling which I
question, and the fact that (what I believe) is an inherently
flawed system works as well as it does is entirely to the
credit of dedicated teachers and the children.
But in this page I’m going to
give you a bit of an overview about why, and how, we
home-educate. You’ll see that I’ve done it as a
question-and-answer format, reflecting the questions we usually
get asked.
Note that the Q&A below
was written in 2004 when Tadhg was 9. I have left it as it is,
as it provides a very valid snapshot, and would still be
relevant to parents of younger children. Below, however, I
provide an update on how our home-education is working
now.
Q: Why are you
home-educating?
A: There’s a number of answers to
that, depending on how much detail you want. The short answer
is that home-education is a tailor-made education, rather than
the one-size-fits all which school has to be. Everybody has
different learning styles (aural, visual or kinaesthetic, i.e.
hearing, seeing or doing), different strengths and weaknesses
(it’s now accepted that instead of someone being intelligent or
not, there are actually seven [or eight, depending on the
theory] intelligences and all of us score better in some and
worse in others), but traditional schooling does not take these
into account. (I don’t see how they can.)
A longer answer, and perhaps a
more provocative one, is that we believe, as Plutarch is
reputed to have said, a [child’s] mind is not a vessel to be
filled but a fire to be lit. Schooling is very concerned with
children learning facts. Nowadays there is so much information
that nobody can know it all. Apart from the basics of reading,
writing and arithmetic, there is no one body of information
which everybody has to know. Far more important skills are
those of being able to find information rather than know it,
and creativity and problem-solving skills. School is very
left-brain while we try to offer a much more balanced
education.
It's my
absolute understanding that successful people view
mistakes as learning curves rather than
dreadful experiences. They view mistakes as an inevitable part
of the process of learning how to do something right or better.
They definitely view making mistakes as an essential part of
developing something new. They aren’t nervous about making
mistakes.
Our school system, on the
other hand, is set up so that mistakes are things to be avoided
(getting less than 10/10 in a test, for example. Or, if you
mispronounce something everybody laughs). If mistakes are an
essential part of success (and they are, I try to be dogmatic
about very little, but I’m sure on this point), then school
taught us, and is teaching our children, to avoid one of the
essential ingredients of success. (Robert Kiyosaki, inventor of
the incredible Rich Dad, Poor Dad franchise, is of this opinion
also).
A huge perk of home-educating
is that home-educated children are much less likely to
encounter bullying. In fact, about half of home-educators never
send their child to school and come to it via a philosophical
route. But the other half come to it by removing children from
school who have been so desperately unhappy – usually due to
bullying – that this is the only possible route for them. We
didn’t decide to home-educate to prevent Tadhg being subjected
to bullying – that would have been a very fear-based, negative
way of looking at things. But it’s certainly a relief that it’s
not an issue. (Sure, he might encounter bullying with other
children in other circumstances, but at least he can remove
himself from whatever situation he’s in.)
Q: Is it
legal?
A: Not everywhere, but here in
Ireland we are lucky that it’s not only legal, it’s a
constitutional right. The Constitution states that the parent
is the primary educator of the child. Of course, the
Constitution also guarantees the right of every child to ‘a
certain minimum education.’ Which we have no objection to,
needless to say, we’re doing this because we want to give our
children what we believe is the best education we can offer.
The only problem is the fact that what exactly is ‘a certain
minimum education’ has never been defined, which makes it …
interesting.
Recently the Department of
Education have started implementing the Education Welfare Act,
which covers all children not in State schools: i.e. truants,
home-educators and those children in independent, parent-run
schools such as Montessori or Steiner. Home-educators now have
to apply to register formally, and have to satisfy the State
(in the form of the Education Welfare Board assessors) that
they are indeed providing this ‘certain minimum education’. So,
we don’t know what this ‘certain minimum education’ is, and no
agent of the State has defined it for us, but we still have to
satisfy them that we’re achieving it.
In practice, however, it’s not
likely to be an issue for most people. Particularly, I’m sorry
to say, if you’re middle-class and articulate and have lots of
maps and books and art materials and software around the place.
I genuinely don’t know how it will work if you’re perhaps
clearly alternative in your lifestyle choices. I don’t mean
alternative as euphemism for drugs or anything, I genuinely
mean that if you dress like a hippy and maybe are intimidated
by the agents of the State and your children don’t even have a
computer but they are fabulous horse-riders and could grow
fabulous vegetables in concrete.
Do I sound cynical? Maybe I
am.
Q: How long will you do
it?
A: People often have this idea of
home-educators as being these uber-parents, always serene and
never, ever a row to be had as we all float gently through life
together with our children. And I suppose, to be fair, given
that we spend so much time together, we all get on remarkably
well. But certainly in my family there are days when I think
that I have made a huge mistake, that there’s no way this is
working, I’m tearing my hair out, the dog is cowering at my
raised voice even though she’s being no trouble (she only ever
cowers when I shout at others, never when I shout at her),
Tadhg is being stubborn and intransigent, the house has
degenerated from being a just-about-tolerable mess into
looks-like-it-should-be-condemned mess, I’ve a novel-deadline
to meet and I CAN’T COPE ANY MORE. On those days the answer to
the question, ‘how long will you do it?’ is: ‘Till next
Friday.’ Given through gritted teeth.
But the real answer is: ‘We
don’t know.’ A lot will depend on what Tadhg wants as he gets
older. But put it this way … we aren’t setting any deadline in
our own minds, we’re quite happy if he never goes to school and
goes the whole way with us, and as he gets older, he himself,
responsible for his education.
Q: But what about a
job?
How will he get a job without an
education?
Or what if he wants to go to
university?
A: First of all, he will have an
education. A bloody good one too. Just not a formal one. And he
will probably have to use a little bit of creativity to
demonstrate that education to a potential employer … but then,
employers tend to like creativity. They also like people who
can work independently (which is a feature of home-ed, but not
of school), who are good at problem-solving, who are
experienced at mixing with all sorts of people.
As for university, there are a
number of options: he can go to school for the last two years
and sit our school-leaving exams (the Leaving Certificate), the
results of which determine which university courses you can
get. Or he can just study for the Leaving Certificate himself
at home.
Or he can do something else
until he is 23 and then go to university as a mature student,
which is what the rules at the moment say.
Or he could apply to
university using his home-ed experiences such as projects or
work experience he has completed. There is no precedent for
this, and we certainly can’t guarantee that they will accept
this, but it would be worth looking into nearer the
time.
I know the prestigious
Stanford University in the U.S. takes a higher proportion of
home-ed students than schooled ones, and that a lot of colleges
say that they find home-ed students make the transition to
university much more easily. (Again, because they are already
used to the way university/college works, i.e. you are
responsible for yourself and your own education. The college
offers resources such as tutors and classes, but nobody’s
chasing you to make you go.)
Another option we have is that
he can do an Open University degree with no pre-qualifications
at all. (The Open University is a British organisation, but
which is available in Ireland also, which offers qualifications
right up to degree level by correspondence course).
Something else we would like
to pursue with him, in his teens, is entrepreneurship. We would
encourage him to start small businesses (even lawn-mowing ones,
it doesn’t have to be a huge corporate conglomerate, although,
why not?), to learn how that all works. What a cheap learning
curve! Especially at a time when he has no responsibilities,
certainly not to a wife and family, but not even to himself.
That’s the time to make your business mistakes and learn from
them.
Q: How long a day does
home-education take?
A: Depends on how you define it.
Less than you might suppose. Certainly way less than school.
Because the work is directed to where he’s at at the moment,
and dealing with things he is interested in, and because we
don’t have to spend time in roll-calling (50 mins per week is
budgeted by the Dept of Education for this alone!) or
discipline or organising queues in and out after small-break
and lunch-break.
There is a spectrum of
approaches to home-education: at one end is the totally
structured approach. People who follow this approach either
design or buy a curriculum (there are many for sale from the
U.S. over the internet), and follow it religiously.
At the other end of the
spectrum is a philosophy known as ‘unschooling’ where parents
do absolutely no formal work whatsoever. They do, however,
provide an education- and resource-rich environment, and are on
hand to answer questions as they arise, relying on the child’s
own curiosity to provide the curriculum.
This is less bizarre than it
might seem – we have a belief that children are inherently lazy
and inherently resistant to learning stuff … but you know,
those same children were the ones who two or three years
previous were driving us mad asking ‘why?’ about
everything.
Perhaps it is something about
the structure of school which turns them off from learning,
rather than something inherent in the children themselves. And
sure enough, in unschooled and not-very-schooled children we do
find a bright curiosity about the world, about how it works and
their place in it. This is not, I must stress, a lack of
education. But it is totally child-led education. The parents
are always reactive to the child rather than proactive. (In our
culture ‘reactive’ is always seen as somehow less than
‘proactive’ but there is sometimes a place for it.)
Most people in Ireland seem to
fall somewhere between these two extremes. One friend, for
example, does purchase and use a curriculum, but instead of
being a slave to it, uses it when she is not doing anything
else such as going to a home-ed get-together, or bringing her
children to a museum and so on.
We tend to do perhaps half an
hour a day in formal education. Mostly this involves
hand-writing practice, and we used to do maths worksheets a
lot. Actually, the maths worksheets is a classic example of how
it all works. We believe that Tadhg needs to know his tables,
so we asked him to learn them, and he showed huge resistance.
Which we could understand, it’s pretty boring after all. So we
used to give him worksheets each day, on the basis that
eventually, after a certain number of times of actually
calculating what 7+6 is, he would just know it. And so it
proved. So he learned his tables, but in no particular order.
But we got a side benefit of this: he worked out for himself
the relationships between numbers. So not only does he know
that 8x6=48, he knows why, or how it comes about. He knows that
that is double 8x3, and likewise double 4x6. He was quite young
when I asked him what 6+5 was, and he said, ‘that’s easy, it’s
11, because 5+5 is 10, and 6 is one bigger’.
So on one level we only do
about half an hour a day of work. But at another, we’re always
home-educating. We play Scrabble, and maths games, and jigsaws
of Europe, and a brilliant board game called Discovering Europe
which is great for learning the map of this continent. We chat
about Japan in the car, we go to astronomy functions when
there’s something spectacular happening. We have the Atlas in
the sitting room and will show him where in the world the
country we’re learning about on the television is located,
where it is in relation to Ireland and its size in relation to
Ireland (usually much bigger!).
One time something came up
about the Dead Sea. He asked how could a sea be dead? I
explained about the salt content, showed him on the Atlas where
it was, told him that was where Jesus had come from, showed him
a photo of me floating on the Dead Sea, and then brought him
into the kitchen and showed him how much better an identical
weight floated in a bowl of salted water than in a bowl of
plain water. All this took only about 20 minutes, but he was
interested, and remembered it well. (Not necessarily perfectly,
but then we don’t get cross with an infant when we have to say
the word ‘doggy’ a hundred times before they get the
association between that sound and the actual dog).
Sometimes he’ll mention
something and we’ll say, ‘oh yes and will I tell you more about
it?’ and he says, ‘no thanks,’ and we just leave it. We’re
always offering, though. Or, usually always. Sometimes I think,
I could tell him more about this, but I’m tired or just not in
the mood and I don’t . But that’s okay, we have years,
literally, for him to learn all he needs to. Sometimes if I’m
trying to tell him stuff he doesn’t want to know I’ll laugh and
make a siren noise and announce, ‘home-schooling alert,
home-schooling alert,’ and we both laugh and pass it
off.
We were on holiday in Greece
when he was a few months short of his 7th birthday, and we were
splashing around in the pool and he said out of the blue, ‘do
you know, I’ve just realised that when you add two odd numbers,
you always get an even number.’ And this was on his holidays!
He doesn’t realise, you see, that maths should be boring, or
work.
Q: Ah yes, but what about
socialisation?
A: I’m surprised it took you till
now to ask that! It’s often people’s first question.
For a start, if socialisation
were the only/main reason to have children in school, why not
let them stay out of school and socialise elsewhere. Or, why
not let them go to school and just play.
In truth, how much
socialisation do children get to do at school? Most of their
time seems to be spent paying attention to the teacher rather
than each other (or it should be!).
Also, what quality of
socialisation goes on in schools? Bullying is rampant. More and
more pupils at younger and younger ages are being offered
drugs. Children are becoming more and more sophisticated about
sexual matters too, at younger ages, and sharing that
information. Not that this makes us keep Tadhg out of school,
as I said, that would be a very fear-based attitude. But
inherent in the question to us, ‘what about socialisation for
home-educated children,’ is the assumption that school has a
great quality of socialisation which he is missing out on, and
I’m asking whether that assumption holds up.
There are days when it’s just
Tadhg and me at home and we see nobody and speak to nobody. But
they are so rare as to be very pleasant as we can socialise
with each other then. Tadhg, as is common with home-educated
children, tends to come most places with me and so he gets to
talk to a lot of adults. Obviously every home-educated child
has their own personality, and some are quieter and shyer, but
it is certainly my experience that, as a group, they tend to be
very self-confident and able to talk to anybody – because
they’ve had the practice.
But what about children – when
does he meet them? Okay, he goes to an after-schools club two
days a week, he does karate once a week, we usually get to a
formal home-educating get-together about once a week, and mix
informally more often than that. He plays with the children in
our village after school and during the holidays. We mix with
friends with children. Tadhg would like to have non-stop
company, and he doesn’t, and sometimes that’s not ideal for
him. But he does pretty well.
Q: You’re very
brave!
A: The brave thing we did was to
have a child at all, and every parent by definition is that
brave. The decisions we make as a consequence of that are
fulfilling the responsibility we took on when he was born. But
still, I know what the questioner means by that question. The
fact is that the buck stops here. If Tadhg’s education is
messed up it’s totally our fault, there’s nobody else to blame.
But that’s okay. Given that he’s our son and we love him and
are vested in him, we’ve got a greater incentive than people to
whom it’s just a job. It doesn’t seem brave to us.
Update in
December 2008
Tadhg has just turned 13. We are still
home-educating him and are planning to continue doing so. He is
adamant that he doesn't want to go to school, and is still
enjoying learning at home.
What we're doing has evolved though. We
no longer doing so much formal work. We still do some though.
Each day we do the challenge on www.geographyzone.com - and we're both
learning every country in the world from that. (Although the
Caribbean Islands and the South Pacific Islands remain a
huge challenge to us.)
Every so often we'll pick a country and do a
quick explore of it. It might be a country that's in the news
for some reason, or one that a friend has just visited, or one
that just piques our interest. We did a fascinating project on
Panama and the Panama Canal the other day, including following
the length of the Panama Canal on Google
Earth.
We also try to do some of the algebra on
www.coolmath.com each day. This wonderful
site explains the concepts very well and also gives endless
relevant problems to try.
We've been learning German off the
BBC website.
However, Tadhg is now much more
integrated into our work lives. Peter is teaching him computers
and bringing him to house-calls with him as he fixes computers.
He's also teaching him programming. I'm in the process of
studying internet marketing and copywriting and website design
- and Tadhg is learning that alongside me.
I have come to realise that marketing is a
skill which he'll always be able to use - whether for his own
business in time, or as his own
business to help others get customers. And I am confident that
if we can give him skills that will earn him a living, he's
sorted. If he decides he wants to be something like an actor or
artist (or even a writer!) that doesn't give much security,
well, we'll be able to encourage him totally in that, knowing
that he has skills which will keep him while he's pursuing his
dream.
For more information on home-educating in
Ireland visit www.hen-ireland.org.
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