Homeschooling’s Life Preserver

by Donna Poole

My little student and I looked at each other; we had just finished our first day of homeschool kindergarten, late August 1994. I smiled; I thought we’d both done rather well. Then I noticed tears filling those big brown eyes looking up at me.

In a trembling voice, Kimmee asked me, “If school’s over, will you be my mommy again now?”

“Oh honey!” I laughed and hugged her. “I will always be your mommy, even when I’m your teacher.

She shook her head and looked stubborn, a homeschool look I’d come to know well. In her mind there was a mommy me and a teacher me, and the two were never to be confused.

I’ve been remembering homeschool lately because my daughter and daughter-in-law have suddenly found themselves in dual roles of mom and teacher. I don’t know if it’s true in all states, but because of covid 19 all students in Michigan and Ohio are homeschooling. The change hasn’t affected my other daughter-in-law; she has always homeschooled.

My daughter, perhaps like some of you, feels like someone suddenly tossed her into cold Lake Michigan and told her to swim. She’s doing well, and laughter is her life preserver when she starts feeling like she’s drowning.

“What do you get when you have two fours?” she asked one of her children who was struggling with math.

“Forty-four?”

I laughed when she told me the story about the fours, and then the memories came flooding back.

A friend who homeschooled when I did read her little boy the directions on the page: “Circle half of the rabbits.”

She returned a few minutes later, and he proudly showed her his work. He’d carefully circled one-half of each rabbit.

For you moms and dads new at homeschool, laughter can be your life preserver. It was mine.

I remember well the first day of first grade. I showed Kimmee the map of the seven continents, without their names, and told her we were going to review them.

“Oh, let me do it by myself!” she exclaimed.

My heart swelled with that ancient enemy, pride. How many children, on the first day of first grade, know the names of the seven continents? Mine does.

I hadn’t planned to homeschool; it had happened by accident. I’d taught Kimmee to read using a book I highly recommend, and it’s still in print, Teach Your Child to Read in 100 Easy Lessons by Siegfried Englemann. From there she began reading everything on her own, Reader’s Digest articles, even her brother’s abnormal psychology college textbook until he caught her and told her to stop.

How could I send her to kindergarten? She’d be bored with kids learning their ABCs. I decided to homeschool her just until the others learned to read but homeschool continued until she graduated.

Back to the whiz kid and my pride. She studied the seven continents tapping her chin. I smiled, waiting. Oh, what a good teacher am I.

Kimmee looked up at me with her beaming smile. “Which continent is New Jersey?”

It may be that I have more fun memories than Kimmee does. I remember acting out history lessons with great enthusiasm, until she got older and suggested perhaps my acting was no longer necessary.

I recall September and October walks down to the St. Joe River on Yom Kippur, the Jewish Day of Atonement, where Kimmee and I turned our empty pockets inside out over the running water symbolizing our sins had been washed away.

“Isn’t this kind of dumb?” Kimmee asked. “There isn’t anything in my pockets. Why am I pretending to empty them?”

I explained the symbolism, comparing the running water to the atoning blood of Christ. She shrugged, but she turned her pockets inside out. I hope Kimmee has deep, spiritual memories of Yom Kippur, but in case she doesn’t, I’m not going to ask her.

Homeschool ingathering days were fun. We had no school those days. Instead, we brought in the last of the garden produce on the day before the forecasted hard freeze. I always stressed gratitude on ingathering days.

One year, when she was quite young, Kimmee stood next to the wheelbarrow heaped with produce.

“Can I pray?”

“Sure!”

Well, look at that. My gratitude lessons are paying off!

“Dear God, thank you for our garden this year. You gave us lots of tomatoes. Mommy likes tomatoes, but I don’t. You gave us lots of squash and green beans. Mommy likes squash and green beans, but I don’t. You gave us lots of cucumbers. I hate cucumbers! I wanted lots of pumpkins, but we didn’t get them. I love corn, but you only gave us one corn and let the coons eat all the rest of it. Amen.”

New homeschool moms and dads, don’t stress. I hope your school days have lots of love and at least a little laughter.

When you teach your children the seven continents, don’t forget to show them which one is New Jersey.