Home Education for Expelled Students

There’s always one of “those” days, usually near the beginning of the school year, and inexplicably after a few couple great days of intellectual accomplishment, when we all collapse and want to quit. Someone gets into an argument, doors slam, tears are shed, and the yellow pages lie open with the phone number of the local public school prominently underlined. Today I actually found a number to call for “Home education for expelled students.” Apparently home schooling is punishment for delinquents, so is public school punishment for uncooperative homeschoolers? Honestly, I wasn’t truly thinking of enrolling my kids in school (not this time), but I wanted them to think about how things could be different.  We are very privileged to do what we do here, studying cool things in fun ways and at our own pace.

I am not proud to say that due to my hollow threat they both ended up crying on their beds for over half an hour as they pondered their imminent doom. 

I have been homeschooling long enough now that when days like this happen, I am neither surprised nor fall into a pit of despair, as I used to. Though I am not happy when it happens, it is apparently something we all need to go through as we adjust to the new fall school routine after having been relatively loose all summer. Days like this are the necessary growing pains of working together as a family of unique, intelligent, democratic-minded individuals.

In retrospect, today’s explosion had been creeping up on us in the form of the “mines.” That’s my chair, I get the front seat, That’s my candy! When attitudes no longer take each other into account but only focus on what the self wants, then it’s only a matter of time before a major conflict takes place, usually about something stupid like a blanket or a cookie (even, maddeningly, for 12- and 10-year-olds). 

We spoke for a while (again) about how antagonizing each other leads to consequences, whether we deserve them or not. In this case, it was a bonk on the head by an aggravated brother, which may very well be a gift to a sister who could be hurt much worse in the future by someone who feels no need to hold back. During our lunch prayer, we thanked God that He can take broken things and turn them into something beautiful—even days like this. 

The beauty of our homeschool today is that we have the luxury of time to address character issues that come up. We can take the time to cry and talk over hurts until we can forgive, pray and reconcile. The stuff we learned about French pronouns or Medieval Europe or arteries and veins? Not important. At the end of the day, we remember what matters in life: Love God, Love Others.  Everything else is extra.