Alternative learning

The inside story on homeschooling and genital slang
By Belinda Ray
2008-01-30
Sometimes when people discover that I homeschool my children, they give me “the look.”

If you’re a homeschooler — or a three-legged, purple penguin in a hazmat suit — you know the look I mean. It’s the one that immediately precedes the look-giver edging away, inch by inch, until a great enough distance has been achieved to justify turning and running.

All right, I’m exaggerating, but homeschooling does tend to elicit strange reactions, perhaps because its only mentions in the mainstream media are associated with extremes. The two most recent New York Times headlines mentioning homeschooling, for example, were, “Lack of Supervision Noted in Deaths of Home-Schooled,” (Jan. 12, 2008) and “Huckabee Draws Support of Homeschool Families” (Dec. 17, 2007). With only these stories to go on, faithful NYT readers may be inclined to believe that all homeschoolers are either murderers, victims or Evangelical Christians. That’s quite a trio.

Of course, there are the other stories, the ones spotlighting homeschoolers who’ve won spelling and geography bees or who are prodigies of one sort or another, which adds a fourth possibility: homeschoolers as geniuses. While this is a slightly more favorable view, I must confess that the genius label is no more apt than any of the others. In truth, we homeschoolers — parents and children alike — are, for the most part, pretty darned average.

Still, myths about homeschooling abound, which is why I’d like to take a moment to dispel a couple of the most common misconceptions out there.

First, let’s tackle socialization, because that’s the buzzword everyone mentions when I divulge our freakish, alternative lifestyle. Although we do call it “HOMEschooling,” it doesn’t all happen at home. We volunteer in soup kitchens, spend hours at the library, visit museums, bookstores and cafes, go to plays, take field trips, attend classes and spend time with friends. There’s actually quite a large network of homeschoolers in the Greater Portland area, and from that network we’ve established a solid peer group, so opportunities for socialization are plentiful.

In fact, truth be told, many homeschoolers probably have more time to socialize than traditionally schooled children because they don’t have to squeeze it in between class periods or during a 20-minute lunch. They also have fewer “Lord of the Flies” moments because much of their socialization is intergenerational; there are often as many adults around as children. This tends to reduce instances of bullying and harassment — or at least provide for swift action and accountability when such instances arise — but that doesn’t mean that homeschooled children are sheltered. That’s just another myth that needs to be dispelled.

Homeschoolers are no more isolated from the harsh realities of the world than other children. My kids and I spend a lot of our time walking the streets of Portland, and we encounter and chat with folks from all walks of life. We read voraciously, about different cultures, injustices, wars and politics, and, just to make sure they’re not missing out on any clever boys’ lockerroom banter, I recently took it upon myself to explain to them the many different terms for the anatomy people keep concealed in their underwear.

Two of the terms came up as a result of some rather unimaginative graffiti in our neighborhood, upon which I was pleased to expound. I must admit, I had begun to wonder how and when I was going to slip the important topic of “genital slang” into our curriculum, but alas, the world is our classroom, and it never disappoints. Except when I see homeschoolers stereotyped in major newspapers.

But then, I guess “NEWSpaper” has become as much of a misnomer as “HOMEschooling” these days. And that, I suppose, is all the more reason to strike up conversations with our neighbors instead of just relying on the headlines for our information and inching away from those who are doing something a little different.

Belinda Ray is a homeschooling mother and freelance writer who finds time to write when her children and their friends have lightsaber battles in the yoga room (but only if the laundry is already folded and everyone’s been fed).