School, Socialising and Being Different

OK, I need to talk about school.

I'm not sure where this will lead. You know how hindsight is, it makes you feel much more important and self-righteous than you ever probably were; adult brains do love to rationalise past actions. It's important though. It's important in the context of why I want to Home Educate and why I don't agree that school is necessary for all children. Yet, please, don't for a moment assume that this encapsulates everything about my approach to HE, it does have an influence, but this is more a reactionary post than a personal doctrine - it needs to get out there, even if said influence is minimal.

It's about being 'social'.

Because school isn't a social experience for everyone. People ALWAYS have 'socialisation' in the baggage of worries they bring to any conversation about Home Ed. I won't repeat what other people have to say about it, you can find extensive information if you bother to use Google.

Anyway, anecdote time. I can't say I 'suffered' at school, I was offered plenty of help, I didn't receive any serious bullying, I didn't perform badly. But a lot of the time, I didn't go.

It's not something that was ever addressed successfully. My only perception of it now is that I didn't want to be there. Over time it became easier and easier not to be there. Every time I managed to maintain the work,   I proved myself right. I remember sitting in lessons thinking other people were stupid. I remember sitting in lessons fuming angry for no reason. I remember feeling so f*cking apathetic about it all.

I probably thought I knew best, but I don't remember thinking that thought. 

Anyway, what do you know? I, the girl whose high school attendance was often barely more than 60%, completed a degree at a Russell Group Uni with 1st class honours. Few people thought I would. Some voiced their fears, some emanated them without words (though I'd count my two 6th Form history teachers and my Mr Onions among the few who DID think I could do it).

And the school? Well, they accommodated me. Can you believe it? At a time when parents were being fined for truancy, the school let me do it. Because I was still achieving.

Well, what does all that tell you about school? I'm not sure. 

Sometimes I feel like I took the resources they offered and taught myself, but that's pretty arrogant, and inaccurate. Sometimes I feel like I had such a strong desire to be alone that perhaps I dealt with it in the only way available to me. Sometimes I feel like I was simply too self-absorbed and obstinate.

But besides all this educational rubbish there is one thing I do know: school, itself, didn't teach me to be sociable.

My friends taught me to be sociable. The school environment didn't facilitate socialising: it was an opportunity to meet people, but it wasn't the place to develop meaningful relationships. That part happened outside of school hours, with the people I had found. I didn't WANT to see people at school, I wanted to avoid them.

As a teenager, so many other things were important in my life, but school was just there. I never thought I was going to fail, I just wasn't sure when I was going to get around to it. I guess I was like many teenagers: if you ask them they'll tell you that school gets in the way of socialising.

Ahem. I know that all this secondary school stuff isn't relevant to my 4-year-old's education, who knows, perhaps she'll go there one day herself. Until then, however, no-one is going to convince me that school is a better social experience for her. She can get social interaction with different people every day of the week if she wants it, or stay at home with me if she wants to be alone. Her need for interaction is important to her and she will damn well tell me when she wants to go somewhere. And I will listen and adapt. Because I can, because it's important, and because it's my duty.

Writing and Phonics

As an aside to our tale from yesterday, I thought I'd chat about the Phonics workbook we were doing, and the Playful Parenting technique that, I felt, gave us a massive breakthrough in working together.

I know, it sounds hideously boring, but I managed to demonstrate to myself that Playful Parenting really *does* work better than having a conversation, sometimes. I'm in no way connected to the author of the book, I simply had it recommended to me and found it at a good price on Kindle.

The premise of Playful Parenting is joining the child in her world, instead of forcing her into the parental world of 'Do As You're Told.'

For example:

NP has become very anxious about 'doing writing.' I blame the school nursery entirely for this because they regularly forced the kids to write their names, making NP do it against her will by holding the pencil with her, so that they could assess her. After this, she was unhappy about writing unless someone was helping her in this way. I also think she has performance anxiety about getting it perfect (which is probably inherited from us freaks ;)

Yesterday she dearly wanted to have a go at the workbook, she flicked through and found the pages she wanted to do (as I bit my control-freak tongue about working through the pages in order) and found the letter 'M', which we haven't officially 'done' yet (in terms of listening to the songs etc, we have, however, been writing 'Mommy' quite regularly).

We chatted about the page and NP had a go at a capital M. Then she told me I had to do the rest. I wasn't about to start filling in the book for her, how would she learn anything from that?

I decided that the situation here was about control. She was trying to gain a little power in a situation where she felt unsure and inadequate. I felt I needed to give her a way of having power without confirming her belief that she wasn't good enough to do it (which is what I thought would happen if I filled all the letters in perfectly for her).

So I decided to have a tantrum. I huffed and grumbled that I was rubbish and I couldn't do it. I said "I can't!" I pretended to cry about it. I said she had to help me do it.

With a tiny smirk, she filled in the first letter, free handed. I looked at her, wide-eyed, and said "You wrote a 'mm'" Not praising, just a statement.

This game continued until all the letters were filled: she would tell me to do it, I would have a little tantrum, and then she would cheekily fill it in herself. She finished the whole page independently.

Now, they weren't perfect, and she didn't mind, we'd had a fun game and she'd managed to do it all.

Playful Parenting and self-reflection are things I'm really keen to share with other parents because it's so easy to fall into the trap of only ever treating your kid 'one way.' We tend to speak to NP in quite a mature manner, having conversations and reasoning with her about behaviour or routine. This works OK if she can see the point of what we're saying. However, sometimes she gets into this state of mind where she wants to 'play up,' causing escalating irritation and eventual arguments that negate the whole point of what we were trying to achieve at the time.

'Playing up' normally happens when one of the Onions clan (myself or Mr O) is trying to 'teach.' Be it writing, drawing, cooking or how to use something, NP gets frustrated, we get frustrated, she giggles in our faces and we get annoyed. NOT the best way of inspiring self-directed learning, huh? On many occasions we didn't adapt our approach, we just kept forcing our way upon her, to little success (see where the self-reflection comes in?) So, in the future, instead of seeing it as 'playing up' I'm going to think more about 'playing,' period.

On child hating

Well, I kinda missed most of the crazy child-hating conversations going on around the blogsphere, but a good review with some excellent links can be found over at Blue Milk

Reading BM's post made me think about how we've raised NP, her own behaviour in public, and how we contribute to the over-arching problem.

We've always eaten out with our daughter, though there are definitely times I remember regretting it. She was about 2 months old and breastfeeding and my parents booked a big family meal in the evening. As I remember it, we spent the whole evening walking around outside, taking it in turns to wolf down our (relatively pricey) meals, then leave early because she just wasn't up to it. From that moment on we always insisted that family make plans that fit around her.

I guess we caved in to the rest of the world and made our child fit into society: we never took her on a plane, never took her out to eat late at night etc. However, we did take her out regularly during the day, coffee shops, restaurants, etc. These days, her behaviour is usually impeccable for a (nearly) 3 year old, so much so that people comment on it. At which point I feel proud, but also very embarrassed because it feels as though we're contributing to the attitudes that children should be 'seen and not heard.' Sometimes, I feel as though the one example of a kid behaving in an 'adult appropriate' manner makes it difficult for parents of more adventurous children to be accepted by society!

Mr Onions often refers to it being a case of our ability to 'control our child', (even though I really do hate that phrase and the implications of it) but I'm not so sure that is the case, I really do think it's her personality. However, I sometimes question whether we've done the right thing for our daughter. Has she be stunted or held back by our methods? Have we discouraged her from behaving in an age appropriate manner? She is definitely reserved when it comes to interacting with other people and children. She has very strict boundaries that make it difficult for affectionate people to be around her. However, I remember her being a baby and saying the same thing - she would never jump straight in to play with toys, she would always suss out the situation before choosing her course of action. She would never instantly smile at people, she had to figure them out first. It's not like she's unhappy - she is a lovely, excitable, intelligent girl. She's just different. (Like every other single kid in the world).

I can't say she's never tantrum-ed in public, or that I haven't been embarrassed by her behaviour, but I also can't say I've ever really had the 'evil eye' from anyone. Maybe it's where I live, maybe it's me, maybe it's her. Maybe we shouldn't try to pigeon-hole all kids into 'good' and 'bad' behaviour - just make it 'being an individual, still figuring it all out'. The way we guide our kids is always going to differ, but that doesn't mean one way is wrong and another way is right - that's just another way of forcing mothers into competition with each other: another form of control in a sexist society. After all, infighting is the best way to keep people oppressed.

I guess this is really me just working out my own insecurities about my parenting. I always felt I'd done the right thing, but more and more you wonder whether your approach really was the best thing for your child. We're so het up these days about 'doing it right' that we'll probably end up creating a generation of neurotics.

Against Our Will

"[Rape] is nothing more or less than a conscious process of intimidation by which all men keep all women in a state of fear" - Susan Brownmiller

This quote was one of the problems that came up the other night in a discussion with my partner about the BBC4 program, Women.

(I say it came up, when in actuality I started ranting on about it and Mr Onions listened and nodded at the appropriate points. He found the program pretty boring)

My argument was that the quote was poorly expressed but had a certain validity to it.

In essence, I believe Brownmiller was saying two things:

Firstly, that by not standing up and speaking out against rape (and, by extension in today's world, rape jokes) men who do not rape are as good as rape apologists and enablers.

Secondly, that the fear of rape makes all women fearful of all men, to the advantage of men who would seek power by such means, and to the detriment of men who wouldn't. Obviously, women lose on both counts.

Now, the original quote is a great soundbyte, but is pretty inflammatory towards men, and it could be said, is exclusionary and difficult for people to relate to, without a strong knowledge of rape discourses. But I do believe it's an important point to consider, with reflection upon what it actually means.

Discuss?

BBC4 Women: Mothers

NOTE: My other reviews of 'Libbers' and 'Activists' can be found here:
first thoughts
2nd watching
Activists

Mothers
Yes, I watched it, and I have lots to say.

Mostly I resented the demographic represented, but again, how else would it be pitched on this channel? I do believe that only one family lived north of London, and the parents in that family were both academics. I suppose it's appealing to the lowest common denominator, to just interview (stereo)typical nuclear families. However, there are SO many feminist families who are anything but typical!

Personally, it would have felt a much more rounded documentary if the lives of feminist families were included, e.g. non-working feminists mums, queer parents, mothers who stay at home but fill their lives with things other than children.

(Not to say that the stay-at-home parents featured in the program DON'T do other things, but the documentary didn't seem to show them doing anything other than 'typical' parenting - baking, play-groups, washing, yawn).

What about the parents staying at home and providing home-education? What about mothers who give up their time for voluntary groups (coughcough breastfeedingpeersupport)? What about working class mums who don't have a bloody choice in the matter?

Isn't it wonderful to pontificate about 'choice' when the people without a choice have no voice?

Furthermore on the subject of what a parent does, how about the question put to the Oxford graduate:

'what is the point of your education, do you need a degree from Oxford in order to stay home and look after your children?'

Well, those who know me can imagine my reaction.

(something along the lines of 'fiery wrath'?)

The fact that education for its own sake is not even considered astounds me. Once an educational level has been achieved it is always there to fall back on, use, or add to. I absolutely agree with the mother: she can pass her knowledge on to her children. I feel so passionate about my academic achievements and goals, but I also feel passionate about bringing up my daughter in the way I have chosen.

Why should motherhood negate education and the urge to be educated? Is education only compatible with working and earning? That sounds quite capitalist to me.

However, on to the thing I enjoyed: watching the squirming when Engle asked what activities they each do around the home. It was good to reinforce the idea that washing, organising and cleaning are not a realm of natural knowledge - it is learnt through trial and error, paying attention, reading, PLANNING and thinking, before doing. It's too easy to get drawn into always doing something because your other half 'doesn't do it well enough'. How the hell did that partner learn to do it in the first place?

Anyway, that aside, it's perfectly understandable that Vanessa Engle may have wanted to highlight the inherent sexism in the standard nuclear family. Today, that kind of sexism often goes unchallenged and is held up as a shining example of what family life should be about. However, my question is, can't we have some positive examples? Can't we see what other people are doing and be inspired, rather than depressed?

Mr Onions regularly challenges me, asking me if I am ever going to read something positive about feminism. Well, I put that challenge to this doc: make me feel positive next week, I want to see something good about feminist activism, some passion, some success, some positive ideas. Lets leave this sadness behind, please?