No one ever told me homeschooling would be like this.
And even if they would have, I wouldn’t have believed them.
I was a homeschool student before it was cool. I had the desk in the basement, the fake school name, the duck-and-cover drills when the doorbell rang.
I also had the voracious reading during breakfast, lunch, and every car trip; the ceremonious throwing of the completed calculus book down the stairs my junior year; the straight As and stellar college entrance exams; the music awards and scholarships. All the trappings of the Well-Homeschooled Student.
When I graduated from our homeschool, I blessed my parents and long-suffering friends with an hour-long music recital followed by another hour-long program of speeches exalting not only homeschooling itself but my parents in particular. I gave my own detailed testimonial and presented my parents with a plaque in recognition of their achievements in raising me.
I never did see that plaque again.
Now it is my turn.
All these years slaving away at the teacher’s manual, poring over the math lessons, correcting and recorrecting the writing assignments, enduring science experiments inside the house…I am eligible for my own plaque in two short years.
My son dared request that when he graduates, he enjoy pizza and cake and video games privately with his friends. No mention of my plaque.
I want a plaque! I deserve a catered party, fancy speeches, and a plaque!
I also deserve for my children to honor me by earning exceptional grades, trophies in sports and fine arts, and commendations from the church and community. Right?
Instead, I am getting stinky soccer uniforms, protests against performances, questionable test results, and mediocre grades.
This turn of events is unsettling to say the least. For someone trained that anything below 92% was completely unacceptable, the fact that some students, related to me by birth, may at times score an F on an assignment is unfathomable.