Socializing parents

I was amazed, when my daughter started preschool (through our public school district) at how many demands were made of me. Orientation, parent coordination meetings, picture day, book order day, stone soup day, the Scrip program, guest readers (moms, that is), field trips. I started to think "Man, I am not PTA material," and to wonder why I didn't feel as dedicated to preschool as the other mothers. The mom who was most involved and gung-ho about the preschool once said, in response to someone's comment that she felt tired, "I always feel tired."

At the start of the year I had to put together a page of pictures with captions for the class photo album, which put pressure on me to make us look like a wholesome, vacation-taking, birthday-party-having family with loads of interesting snapshots. Other families had gone to Disneyworld; we had photos taken in our backyard.

I sent A. to picture day wearing a nice ivory-colored shirt and corduroy pants, only to discover that every other girl had shown up in a frilly dress, the tops of their heads a virtual sea of barrettes and baubles. I lied, saying that A. had refused to dress up, and I didn't think it was a battle worth waging. It was only half a lie, since the chances were close to 100% that she would have refused, had I attempted to stuff her into a dress, tights (on a 40-degree day), and hard-soled shoes. She hadn't worn a dress since she'd slipped and hit her head at Christmas at age 18 months, due to her nylon tights. That had been the end of that.

"Oh, it's your weekend to take home Nut Brown Hare," a teacher said to me one afternoon, her tone suggesting that I should be thrilled. Nut Brown Hare turned out to be a small stuffed rabbit. "There's a little book that goes with him that you can read, and at the end of the weekend, you'll ask A. to summarize what you did with Nut Brown Hare, and you write it in this little notebook."

Nut Brown Hare and its accompanying book and notebook sat in the unopened bag next to our door most of that weekend, until I got the thing out and cajoled A. into playing with it, which she did in a very dispassionate way for about 15 minutes. I then half-fabricated, half-exaggerated a page worth of experiences for Nut Brown Hare, and A. got her first lesson in cheating.

These little Nut Brown Hare vignettes gave all the parents a window into other people's lives, since a teacher would read them aloud at the very start of class, when moms were still hovering around. Other families had weekends filled with playdates, gymnastics, shopping, church, and a hundred other activities, and their dinners were normal American fare, green beans and chicken breasts and Hamburger Helper. Our typical weekend at that period was probably this: A. occupied herself much of the weekend while my husband and I sat around pondering a move to Canada, ranting about politics, watching Upstairs Downstairs, and deciding between Indian or Thai take-out while popping another Whole Foods cheese pizza into the oven for A. It wasn't quite normal enough to write in the little notebook.

Nor did I ever join in with the discussion of bedtimes, time-outs, star charts (this turned out to mean not astronomical charts but charts to keep track of chores and tasks, for which little star stickers were awarded). A. doesn't really have a set bedtime-- yes, we say it's 8pm, but that's not when she falls asleep. Nor do we do bathtime or book-reading before bed. We just don't follow The Schedule that every other family ostensibly followed: dinner, bath, books, lights out.

Though I hate to admit it because I would rather believe that I've outgrown caring what other people think of me, it all started to get to me after a while. I found myself saying things like "Every other kid in your preschool class is already asleep! You have got to go to bed!" I started buying slightly girlier clothes and trying to talk her into occasionally wearing her hair in a pony tail. I felt compelled to do something on the weekend, as if hanging out with your family, reading, cooking, and watching a Netflix movie is not "enough" somehow.

As soon as we decided to homeschool, I felt this great weight lift off of me. I felt so much less pressure to conform. John Gatto says that homework is an extension of the school's control and surveillance, an intrusion of the school into the sanctuary of the home. Even at the preschool level I felt this invasion. In our district, the kindergarten and first-grade homework consists largely of activities to be done with the parents, for instance, a different reading game-- requiring two players-- each night, Monday through Thursday. Under the guise of "parent involvement" they are trying to make us jump through their hoops right along with our children.

I recently downloaded the 33-page Parent's Handbook for the kindergarten my daughter would have attended. In addition to all the reasons why she will be better off learning at home, I myself have felt an enormous rush of relief that I will never have to put up with this crap again. I'll end with an example of the "you'll do what we say" tone of the Parent's Handbook-- keep in mind this pertains to kindergarten.

Feel the schadenfreude.

Regular attendance is essential for success in school. Students are expected to attend school every day of the school year. The parents are responsible for regular attendance at school. If a child cannot attend, it is the parent’s responsibility to call the school by 9:30 a.m.

Excessive tardiness affects the progress of the individual child and disturbs the learning environment for the rest of the class. It is the parent’s responsibility to see that the child gets to school on time. If your child is tardy, the child must report to the office when arriving at school and pick up a “Late Arrival” slip from a secretary.


Make-up Work Policy

1. Absence due to vacation

Make-up work will not be given out in advance. We would rather the student keep a daily journal or log describing the vacation. When the student returns to school the missed assignments will be given to the student. The make-up work should normally be completed within one week.


2. Absence due to illness

A. One or two days - The make-up work will be given to the student on his or her return to school. The missed assignments should be completed within three days.

B. Three days or more - The make-up work can be picked up at school on the third day and on every two days thereafter. These assignments should be completed two days after they are picked up. If parents phone the school office by 10:00 a.m. of their intentions to pick up their child’s work, the teacher will have it ready to pick up in the office by dismissal time that same day.