The best homeschooling information
from the friendliest folks in the Rocky Mountain region!

The First Year of Homeschooling: It's All Greek to Me!

What am I getting myself into? Hindsight and humor from a homeschool veteran.


Curriculum and More!
Learning is all about choice, freedom and FUN! What -- you think 'schoolwork' is like worse than liver? Man oh man, you need to hang around me more.

The First Year of Homeschooling Your Child
Thinking you can't make it through those first twelve nerve-wracking months? Believe me, we've all been there. If we only knew then what we know now, we wouldn't have worried so much. By Linda Dobson.

Sponsored Links




Nearly fourteen years ago, when I first begin to investigate the idea of homeschooling, I distinctly remember feeling lost and a little more than overwhelmed. It was as if I had finally made the decision to pull my kids out of school, only to be suddenly handed an airline ticket to a foreign country I'd only vaguely heard about on the news. The idea of homeschooling was exciting. The actuality of traveling there was scary.

As I begin to pack for the trip to this new land, I asked one of the natives where I might pick up a map, so that I could know exactly where to go once I arrived. I wanted to know when to turn left, and when to turn right. She smiled and said she could offer some general guidebooks, but there were no actual maps.

"No maps?" She couldn't be serious. "But how will I know where I'm going? How will I recognize it when I get there?"

She smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, there will be lots of guides, guidebooks and other travelers to help along the way. But this journey is unique, because the countryside is different for every traveler. It won't look the same to you as it does to me. It doesn't look the same to my neighbor as it will to you. Using someone else's map -- even if you could read it -- would only confuse you. You'll make your own map, drawing in where all your mountains and valleys are, and where all your roads lead."

I was flummoxed. All I could do was sputter but-but-but. What did I know about map-making? I'd never made a map in my life! What if I didn't possess the skills to make one? Then what? We'd all get lost?

She handed me a pencil. "You'll be fine. Really. Everything will work itself out once you start drawing."

I hestitated for a long time. Was she crazy, or was I? What kind of place was this Homeschooling? My mind clouded with uncertainly. Should I stay? Or should I go?

Staying put certainly seemed the safest, most logical option. It was familiar territory. I understood the language and knew where all the roads led. Sure, there were a few boulders and other assorted obstacles that sometimes blocked the educational terrain my kids and I traveled. But, nothing was perfect.

On the other hand, I knew it was entirely possible that more chunks of jagged rock could break off from time to time, and come tumbling down the hillside. Do I take the chance that the newest public school debris would block another of our roads some night while we're sleeping? Or that an unexpected landslide might come barreling down the hillside at warp speed one fine day, heading straight for me and mine?

Scared as I was, I took a deep breath and decided to give it a try. There was nothing to lose by just taking a look. It wasn't a one-way ticket. I could always come back to familiar territory if I didn't like it.

So I boarded the plane and took off. When I arrived in this unfamiliar Homeschool Land, I was surprised to find so many other newcomers already there. Some were wandering around, looking just as lost as I (that certainly made me feel better). Others were intently drawing the first parts of their maps with everything from pencils, to chalk and permanant magic markers. Apparently, they knew exactly where they were going. A few were intently reading their guidebooks. Small knots of folks were gathered in clusters, animatedly discussing the various boulders on their hometown roads.

Several natives walked into the room. They beckoned us newcomers over with waves and big, welcoming smiles. I gave a huge sigh of relief. Ahh, finally! I thought. Instructions!


Fast-Foward To The Present

That was the first of many homeschool support group meetings I attended over the years. Did I ever find out what I wanted to know? Yes. And no. I did get to view lots of other maps along the way. I even copied a few and attempted to follow their paths, thinking it'd certainly be easier to homeschool when you had your course all plotted out for you. Funny how it never turned out that way. No two maps looked alike. One might show a gently sloping valley in the same place another drew a craggy mountain. A thundering waterfall very often turned out to be nothing more than a placid, blue lake. Every map came with instructions, which I followed to the letter, but they might've as well have been written in Sanskrit or Egyptian Hieroglyphs for all the sense they were making.

Four months of going in circles and backtracking wasn't my idea of fun, and it definitely wasn't helping us get anywhere, either. The phrase "You get to make your own" kept running through my head, along with my own answering thought: Oh sure -- easy for YOU to say. Finally, I took pencil in hand and tentatively began sketching. A short while later, my sons came in to see what mom was up to. Still not quite sure what I was supposed to be drawing, I turned to them and said, " umm . . . help?" My kids had no such hesitations. With delighted giggles they grabbed crayons and markers, plastic legos and sequins and pipe cleaners, and all sorts of whatnots I never thought should go on a map. Their pen strokes were bold and bright; red, squiggly lines meant one thing, green squares and purple sunbursts meant something else entirely. Lego creations stuck out all over the place. Pipe cleaners whirled in funny twists and twirls.

It didn't take me long to catch on (kids are such an inspiration) and soon the map filled the house. It overtook the front yard, and spilled out into the streets. Within the first year it ranged from Colorado to Washington state, over to Asia where we learned that the word Judo meant "gentle way" and Jeet Kun Do translated into "way of the intercepting fist", all the way up to Mars because Ray Bradbury had written a wonderful story about martians dying from the common cold, which spurred us into several surprise unit studies, like watching 2001: A Space Odyssey, writing and illustrating a book about life on other planets, over to a biology investigation into why germs were different than viruses. It was the craziest, most eclectic map in existence. And it was full of adventures I wouldn't have missed for all the world. I have my kids to thank for that.

Just the other day I spoke with a new parent who had that utterly perplexed look I knew so well; the one I'd worn for months. She had an armful of maps, but wanted to see what ours looked like. So I pulled it out and showed it to her. She studied it for a long time, turning it this way and that. Finally she shook her head. "But, this doesn't help! It's written in Greek or something!"

I nodded and smiled. I knew just how she felt. I assured her she'd do just fine. And I handed her a pencil.


© 1999-2008 Cindy Englan