Pride and Prejudice: Its not just literature

One of my favorite movies (miniseries?) of all time is the BBC's Pride and Prejudice.  Most of you probably already know the story.  The handsome and rich Mr. Darcy embodies pride.  His sense of self derives from his lofty position in society, and he has all the reasons in the world to maintain the status quo.  Elizabeth Bennett, the "handsomest" girl in the story, is intelligent, headstrong, and witty.  After overhearing Darcy say something unkind about her family, she decides he has no redeeming values whatsoever.  Early 19th century hi-jinks ensue.

I think this story is so beloved because we are all Darcy and Lizzie rolled into one.  At least I'll admit to it.  We all walk around, trying to protect our slice of the pie, defend the status quo even if that status quo is making us insane.  Instead of letting negative feelings go, we let them color our perceptions like a pair of bad sunglasses.

So what does that have to do with the Yoga of Homeschool?  

At the end of the story, both characters have to examine the error in their ways.  

Right now Emily is still in public school finishing up the year, and its time for me to take a honest and painful look at the errors in my thinking.

First and foremost, I have known in my heart for several years that despite their best efforts, the public school setting is not a place where Emily can thrive.  I did everything I was supposed to do to help her fit into the system.  At a glance, I was a doing a darn good job playing the role of "concerned yet involved parent"  She has had an IEP (Individualized Education Plan) since kindergarten.  Every year I meet with a team of people---speech therapists, occupation therapists, social workers, developmental experts---who with their numerous degrees would churn out reports and make goals and objectives and test her on things like "following more than three directions".  They also let her chew gum. 

She figured out the tests and managed to pass most of them, but I honestly never saw much of a difference at home.  Also, I had to put an end to the gum chewing.  I got tired of cutting gum out of the carpets and picking gum out of trash cans that, for whatever reason, had no bag in them but like 75 balls of hard, stuck on Trident.

Eventually they gave her paperwork that declared she had "education autism" so they could get extra funding.  I don't know why being PDD-NOS didn't seem to matter to the State, but this label allows her to get 15 minutes of social worker/group time per week.  God but I wish it had been 15 minutes per day, because Emily absolutely loves the small, intimate setting and attention from the social worker.  She talks about it all the time with a smile on her face and a spark in her eyes.

But the problem is, that poor woman has too many kids for one person to care for.  There are weeks where Emily doesn't get her 15 minutes, and she comes home and either:

(a) Cries

(b)  Says she's stressed

(c) Says she never wants to go back to school

(d) All of the above

Fill in your answer completely with a number 2 pencil.

And yet, when I thought about homeschooling her for this year, ultimately I did not.  Why? 

Disclaimer:  I'm about to be honest and some of my thoughts would indicate I am at times not a very nice person.  Please don't judge.

I left my child in public school because I had this internal belief that homeschool kids are weird, that their parents must be flat-earthers wanting to promote their strange anti-science agenda.  Even if I managed to find a normal homeschool group, it would meet in a church, and I would burst into flames when I got too close to the altar. 

I left my child in public school because I lied to myself, and told myself again and again that things would eventually just "click" in her brain.  This would result in her ability not only to write but to make calligraphy, that she would suddenly want to share her art and thoughts and feelings with her peers, and she would somehow start to fit in.

I left my child AND CONTINUE to leave my child in public school because I enjoy the material benefits of a middle class lifestyle.  I want to have extra money to go on vacations and buy Nora the types of trendy clothes that were always out of reach for my parents and not feel bad about adding to my already copious Disney pin collection.  Currently I am working two jobs.  The money from my second job was supposed to be set aside for an editor to help me with the trilogy I'm writing.  Instead it has gone to the mall.  And yet we keep shopping, keep working, keep thinking how nice it is to have extra cash even though I'm exhausted.

Poor Emily is still suffering through public school because I don't think I have the patience to be around my child 24/7.  I don't think I have the smarts to teach her math.  There is no sending her off on the bus, then returning to a quiet house to drink my coffee and listen to the birds in the trees.  Julie Andrews, I see you.  I feel you:  

All of these reasons have everything to do with me and my wrong view, and nothing to do with what was or is best for Emily.  That changes.  Now.

This post is getting long, so I may return to some of these ideas in the future.  But I leave you all with the promise that I am going to do whatever it takes to banish these negative thoughts from my mind so I can start the important work of helping my child succeed.