“Why Aren’t You in SCHOOL?”

To leave or not to leave — the house, that is, with your children during “school hours.” Many new homeschooling families wonder if they must cloister themselves at home until that magic hour when the public schools dismiss for the day — and only then could they dare to venture forth. If we truly see education as a non-stop enterprise, then we must also hold that education can and will occur in the marketplace as well as at the dining room table. But how should one respond to the nosy clerk or shopper who snidely asks, “Why aren’t you children in school?”

It has been my experience that a ready answer delivered with confidence will deter most busybodies, while uncertain hesitancy just provokes more questions. Therefore, we began our occasional daytime excursions prepared to deliver a carefully rehearsed response — “We have a half-day off today,” although I do not recall ever actually having to use that particular reply. Some people never asked why my children were not in school — evidently they saw nothing unusual, or they were already used to homeschoolers. The people who did ask us questions either stopped after our first response or continued to question, genuinely curious about homeschooling — which my children and I were only too happy to answer.

I remember reading once about a clerk who asked a child what school he went to. The student replied, “We HOMEschool!” The puzzled clerk repeated “Weehome School? Where’s that?” When my children were asked why they were not in school, they usually spoke up eagerly, proclaiming “WE homeschool!” and offering a further explanation: “This IS school — we’re comparing prices for math class!” Any time we shopped, value was a primary goal, so we were always comparing prices, sizes, and ingredients. We once were threatened by a zealous supermarket assistant manager, who felt our daughter’s in-depth, store-to-store comparison of brands and prices was going too far. My husband asked for the head manager, who then became uniquely interested in our project. We left the store after completing our price survey — with the manager’s apology and a $25 gift certificate, and he happily kept a photocopy of our research of his competitors.

Usually, my children boasted that they had already finished their work for the day and were therefore free to spend the remainder of the day in their choice of pursuits. It is not our fault that the public schools are such an inefficient form of education that it takes them seven hours to complete what we could accomplish in two hours. In our first year, I felt as if we must not be dedicating sufficient time to our lessons because we got them done so quickly. Then I realized that if we were to spend as many hours in session as the public schools did, we would complete our entire school year in only a few weeks or months. A brief analysis of the public school’s daily schedule reveals how much of their time is completely wasted: waiting for the teacher to take attendance and complete other daily records; waiting for quiet so the teacher can give instructions; waiting for the teacher to repeat the instructions to all those who were not listening or could not hear because of the noise made by the others who were not listening; waiting for the other students to complete the lesson so you can move on to the next one; waiting for the teacher to gain control over the discipline-challenged student in the back of the room; waiting for all the students to line up properly to move from Room A to Room B; waiting, waiting, waiting. The time they spend on actual lessons is comparable to our time spent on homeschool lessons.

After the first few years, we outgrew our timidity and began boldly going where no schoolchildren had gone before. I preferred making our trips to the grocery store or Wal-Mart during the day, because there were fewer customers during those hours, and we could do our shopping more efficiently. Our schoolwork could be done any time — we wanted to take advantage of the best hours for our shopping. We confidently marched forth, practically daring people to ask why we were not in school. I began to call those opportunities “speech class” — knowing my children would jump at the chance for on-the-spot experience in public speaking. They were not at all shy when it came to boasting about their homeschool accomplishments, and their confident grasp of language and vocabulary usually left their interviewers astonished and speechless.

Our city’s public library is normally a quiet haven during the afternoons, hosting only a few senior citizens in the reading room. We happened to be there one day when a busload of middle-school children came in, supposedly to work on research projects. The noise level increased so dramatically that my children and I could no longer hear each other without shouting, face to face. The public school students (the ones with all those well-publicized “socialization” skills) ran all over the multi-level building, chasing, teasing, shouting, and generally disrupting everything without doing any actual research. The sole teacher with the large group of students could only be in one area at a time, leaving the bulk of her group unsupervised to wreak havoc and drive off any other daytime patrons. We finally packed up our books and went home; I did not want my children to be accidentally considered part of that rowdy group, and it was no longer an enjoyable place to be. It was no wonder that the librarian in the children’s section was always happy to see my children — they knew how to behave.

A year ago, I drove my mother-in-law to her physical therapy appointment and sat in the waiting area until she was finished. While I was reading my book, a young boy came in with his mother for her appointment, obviously during school hours. He had an apple in one hand, his Bible in the other hand, quietly took a seat near me, and promptly began reading. I broke into a huge grin as I recognized the telltale signs of a homeschooler. No situation is disrupted by a well-mannered child.

Recess was an uncomfortable concept during our first year of homeschooling. I felt (silly me) that we should start by following the “school model” of regularly timed breaks with me present as the adult playground supervisor. I soon realized that this was HOMEschool, not SCHOOL at home. This was, after all, MY home, not a concentration camp. I still lived in America, the nation with the most freedom on the planet, and homeschooling was LEGAL. Public school teachers do not have to prepare the mid-day meal for their students; I did and needed extra time for it. Government schools also take their students on boondoggled field trips all the time, so we should enjoy the same freedom. (After we had left the public school system, I learned from both of my children that they had been on several trips away from the school grounds without my knowledge or permission. So much for parents’ rights.)

I loosened up and allowed my children to take their lunch break at the times that best worked into their schedules, sometimes varying with each day as they finished a subject early or needed a little extra time. I allowed them to play outdoors in our fenced backyard UNsupervised (gasp). I allowed them to take schoolwork outdoors on beautiful days to soak up some natural vitamin D and fresh air. I allowed them to ride their bicycles or rollerblades in front of the nearby middle school, even though the institution’s occupants became quite distracted at the sight. (After a heckling incident during the public school’s outdoor PE class, my son restricted his bicycling to during their classroom times. Years later, a boy began a conversation with my son by saying, “Hey, you’re that kid who used to ride your bike outside my school!”) We took walks together, whenever and wherever we wanted, knowing that even the simple act of walking around the block provided us with educational experiences in observing nature, architecture, or a street repair crew.

Time is the great healer — a little experience will give you the confidence to tackle anything during your homeschool days. Once you recognize that education happens wherever you are, whatever you are doing, you should have no qualms about leaving your home during “school hours.” Let the busybodies ask their questions — and give them more answers than they expected.

Mundanes, Too-days, & Woe-is-me-days

Another week of sub-freezing temperatures. Another layer of snow and ice. Another bout of colds and flu. Just a few weeks ago, you would have loved to have a few weeks with no holidays; now you are doing lessons day after day after day without a break, and you think you will all go stark raving crazy. All members of the Average Family Homeschool are tired of the routine, tired of being stuck indoors, tired of having to wear socks and shoes and sweaters, tired of having to sit still and write lessons, tired of staring at the same faces everyday, and tired of being tired of it all. Cabin Fever has set in.

Sometimes my calendar had Mondays, Tuesdays, and Wednesdays. At other times my days became Mundane with routine, some weeks had Too much of everything, and I felt as if someone would find me rocking back and forth in a corner, my head in my hands, sobbing Woe is me. (The nice, young men in their clean, white coats should come and take me away.) It was time for a change to the routine. Schedule be hanged — our mental health needed emergency first aid.

Desperate times call for desperate measures. When you need a complete break from normal — the wilder, the better. The important message to convey is that your family is what is most important to you, not your schedule. Taking even one day away from your usual routine can be very therapeutic for all of you. After a break, you will feel as if the cobwebs have been swept away from your brain cells — everyone’s mind will be able to think more clearly, and lessons that were difficult just a few days ago may suddenly seem simple.

Depending on the ages and personalities of your children, you may want to let them help plan for the Break Day, or you may want to spring it on them as a great surprise. However you decide to break up your routine, be sure to include all family members — especially Dad, if his job schedule will allow. If Dad’s work cannot provide him with time off, plan extra activities for after Dad gets home from work to include him in the fun. Dads like breaks, too, and Cabin Fever strikes everyone.

A friend of mine would randomly declare “Opposite Day!” on a winter-weary morning and serve her children hot dogs for breakfast, saving the oatmeal for supper. They all had to change into fresh pajamas for the day, and then sleep in their clothes that night. Throughout the day, anyone could declare an “opposite” activity from the normal, and all family members had to participate. The ideas that came about were always fun and always involved a twist on what we commonly expect as “normal.” “Set the table” for dinner, complete with placemats and napkins, on the floor; put a simple jigsaw puzzle together face-down; make turkey-shaped decorations for Valentine’s Day, etc. The only limitation was their imaginations. By the end of Opposite Day, everyone had enjoyed a wonderful break from routine, and their minds were refreshed with new thinking skills.

“Backwards Day” is a similar event, but differs in allowing individual activities to be done in reverse order. Your dinner menu can still come at its regular time, but everyone eats dessert first and finishes with a salad. Again, your imaginations are encouraged to run amok — smashing the normal routine is the goal — for one day, anyway. (I can think of a few energetic little boys who would eagerly accept the challenge to take every step backwards for an entire day.)

If your family has the means and the opportunity, taking a weekend away at a hotel can be a delightful break. The mid-winter blues can be effectively driven away with a few hours in the hotel swimming pool — especially now that many hotels are building complete indoor water-parks. (Those people really know how to fill a need!) Complete your weekend with a museum tour, family movie night, or shopping at different stores than you usually frequent.

A city near us is home to a Botanical Center: a huge glass-domed structure filled with exotic flowers, trees, and tropical plants of all types; hummingbirds and butterflies flit from petal to petal, and exotic fish swim lazily in the ponds and streams that wind throughout the Xanadu-like oasis. Winter coats must remain on the lobby coat racks — it is just too warm inside the dome for anything heavier than a t-shirt. Even the dreary gray sky outside looks warm and friendly when viewed from behind a banana tree. (Note to the pollen-sensitive: I finally had to restrict my visits to the dome: the exotic pollens sent my allergies into hyper-drive. If you are not embarrassed to wear one, a breathing mask made a short visit endurable for me, then I let my husband and kids continue their tour while I checked out the sofas in the peaceful lobby with a favorite book.)

Sometimes we took Get-Away Days, leaving town for a taste of new scenery; other times we planned Game Days: doing no bookwork, but playing games of all sorts for our educational activities. Whatever you choose for your break from the routine, enjoy it to the fullest — Guilt-Free. Once you are back at your regularly scheduled program, you will all think more clearly and have new memories to laugh about. You have worked hard to get yourselves to this stage of needing a break; now work just as hard at refreshing yourselves — you deserve it.

Sick Days, Snow Days, and Other Interruptions

One of the Frequently Asked Questions I get from new homeschoolers is “What do you do about sick days?” I always answer with a smile: “It depends on how sick they are.” It can also depend on who is sick — teacher or student.

If a child is attending public school, there will be days when you just are not sure whether to send him or not: Johnny has a bad cold, but no fever; Mary ran just the tiniest temp for only a few hours last night and now seems bright and bouncy. They are not really well, but they are not really sick either. I preferred to keep my children home when their immune systems were already compromised, away from the germ factories known as classrooms. However, the school administration took a different view of things: they informed me that my child was “missing too much school” and must attend whether she had pink eye or not. No, I don’t think so. That only confirmed my suspicions that the building was full of sick people, sharing their viruses with one and all. My daughter stayed home until our doctor okayed her return. (The public school criteria for true “illness” was the presence of vomiting or a high fever; otherwise the child was deemed “healthy” and expected to be in class — no matter how contagious.)

Once we began homeschooling and my children felt a little bit ill, but still felt able to do some work, I gave them the option of doing only their favorite subjects. Reading was my daughter’s activity of choice, so it could usually continue unless she had a really painful headache. If the student was too sick for sitting up and doing a workbook, but were not totally incapacitated, they were allowed to watch videos. Anything remotely educational was preferred, allowing me to count the day as a school day for them, rather than getting completely behind in our schedule. Games could also be played by the not-so-sick child, again redeeming some educational value from the day. If the legal requirements of your state include keeping attendance charts and detailed classwork accounts, then a light schedule for a sick child might be counted as only half a day.

When Mom is the sick one, the schedule may go completely out the window — unless your students are responsible enough to follow an assignment chart without much assistance. In the case of extended morning sickness, I advise shifting your school time to the hours when Mom feels good enough to handle it. Everyone will survive a slight change in scheduling, and once that season has passed, you can all resume a more regular routine.

The day will come when a particularly ruthless germ invades your home and knocks everyone flat on his back. That is the time to cancel classes without adding guilt. You will all just need to lie down, be sick, and get it over with. Take as much time as is needed to recuperate — you will regain your strength faster if you allow your body to get the rest it so desperately needs. I remember one very nasty siege we went through where Mom, Dad, and daughter were all down with a virus, leaving our young son to care for us. That little trooper must have felt as if he was king of the hill! He made us simple meals (standing on a stepstool to reach the dishes in the upper cabinets) and brought us our medications and orange juice. He could not have been more than seven years old. We repeatedly called him Our Hero, as he proudly nursed us through several days until we had the strength to stand again. He did not succumb to that sickness, and we still praise his bedside manner (and immune system), years later.

Snow days — when the public schools are not in session due to inclement weather — present a different problem. If your home is not surrounded by dozens of neighborhood children building snowmen, sledding, and having snowball fights, then you may be able to carry on a normal day’s routine, without even noticing the change in others’ plans. If, however, your children can sense their neighborhood playmates suiting up in parkas, boots, and mittens, the decision is yours as to whether you want to let them play all day or battle for their attention. We had a favorite saying for just this occasion: “Homeschoolers don’t get snow days off — we get gorgeous days off.” We could usually ignore the rare public school snow day and stick to our own schedule, but we were the nasty family going for a walk in the middle of that first lovely warm day in March. My children were the ones riding their bicycles or roller-blading past the nearby middle school every nice day after lunch, much to the envy of the students watching out the institution’s windows.

When we took a “gorgeous” day off, it was usually because Dad could join us for a picnic, spontaneous field trip, or nature hike around our favorite lake, allowing us plenty of educational opportunities to document for the school day. These events do tend to ruin tightly scripted schedules, so I learned over the years to plan fewer lessons than the legally required number of schooldays. I did not always hold rigidly to the plans I made, realizing that “life happens,” and I needed to have flexibility built into my schedule.

Other interruptions will crop up when you are the least prepared for them — a broken bone, a job transfer to another state, the serious illness or death of a grandparent, or worse. During times of catastrophic interruptions, strip your class schedule down to the bare minimum requirements and reassure yourself that “this, too, shall pass.” You will all need extra time to deal with the emotions accompanying your present disaster, so make time for family activities and enjoy your moments together — taking two hours off to watch a video cuddled together on the sofa can be a very healing experience. Life will eventually get back to its more normal pace and you can catch up on the other subjects later. It is important to remind ourselves that life — real life — does not fit into a carefully planned schedule: we take it one day at a time, and we deal with each day as it comes.

Consider the real-life lessons your children will receive from seeing how to deal with a family crisis. It is very helpful to have the memory of seeing adults grieve, adapt, make plans, and move on with what needs to be done in life. When children are completely sheltered from the matters usually tended to by adults, they have no knowledge of how to deal with these things themselves when the time comes.

My brother-in-law died unexpectedly when I was in eighth grade, and I was rushed off on the school bus that morning and expected to carry on as if it was any other day — no explanations, no time to grieve, nothing. I was allowed to miss classes long enough to attend his funeral, but otherwise, I had no clue as to what went into those few days. During our homeschooling days, we spent extended periods of time doing math lessons in hospital waiting rooms while grandparents underwent surgeries or the final days of life. The math was a “normal” activity that helped my children cope, but they also would not have wanted to be kept at home, away from their loved ones. My children (ages 11 and 14 then) gained a true picture of life during that time: they were in the midst of it all, alternately receiving and offering comfort and encouragement, not isolated in an artificial environment called “the classroom.”

Adapt to life as it happens — your schedule should be your tool, not your master. Every deviation from your normal routine provides another opportunity for real-life lessons. Make the best of the bad situations, whether you are demonstrating on-the-spot first aid, sickroom care, or snow sculpture engineering, and never underestimate the education that will be gained from the interruptions to your schedule.

Dropping the Drama

Drama is a word that is used much too often today. T-shirts and other merchandise proclaiming “Drama Queen” can be spotted at any mall, both on the racks and on the shoppers. Young girls often boast that the name fits them, and then they exhibit the behavior to prove it. Males are not completely exempt from this behavior, although it seems to be found more often in females. Parents can be heard applying the epithet to their offspring. Are these harmless jests, or is there more to it?

The current context in which “drama” is being used refers to an excessive focus on self. A “drama queen” takes petty things too seriously and pays no attention whatsoever to the things in life that really matter. Keeping the focus on one’s self feeds the ego. A well-fed ego is displayed in pride. Pride is something we are warned about in God’s Word as being evil; it is considered one of the “seven deadly sins” that anyone should try to avoid.

We speak often to children about getting our “feelings” hurt. The feeling that is getting hurt in that instance is pride. If someone “hurts my feelings,” I have to assume that my pride is what is actually being offended (since there is no accompanying physical wound). My personal opinion is that if I have pride regarding the matter at hand, then it needs to be removed — so go ahead and let me have it.

When I was a young girl (probably early high school age), the retired couple next door worked at a group home for troubled children. They were the “relief” parents and alternated between the boys’ cottage and the girls’ cottage, filling in while the regular staff took time off each week. One day, after a particularly trying weekend, the older gentleman gave me a few words of sage advice that have stuck with me my entire life: “Grow up to be a boy, not a girl.” He quickly went on to explain his thoughts, probably due to the extreme confusion on my face. He said the girls they worked with would become upset at the least offense and held grudges for days or weeks, sometimes months. The boys were quite the opposite; he could reprimand one of the boys for the most serious rules infraction, and five minutes later, that boy would still be his best friend. His simple advice to me was to drop the drama and get on with life — do not take myself too seriously.

A Drama Queen is probably feeding her self-obsession from all the wrong sources: television soap operas and drama series, movies lacking admirable characters and a worthwhile plot, “romance” novels, and song lyrics and music videos devoted to self, self, self. Take inventory of what your pre-teens and early teens are reading, watching, and listening to. Paul wrote in Philippians 4:8, “Fix your thoughts on what is true and honorable and right. Think about things that are pure and lovely and admirable. Think about things that are excellent and worthy of praise.” [New Living Translation] Just as we say with nutrition: you are what you eat — if “junk food” is consumed into our brains, we can only expect the same to come forth from our emotions.

Encouraging dramatic behavior in ourselves or in our children does no good for anyone. It maintains an over-emphasis on self, instead of looking for how we can serve others, as Jesus advocated and modeled for us. The popular “What Would Jesus Do?” evaluation can help us tremendously in straightening out our priorities. Reading the original In His Steps by Charles Sheldon can be a wonderful dose of perspective for anyone (children’s versions are now available). We need to explain this same principle to our children as they are growing up: we should show them how to help others and how to reach out to others to keep them from focusing continually on themselves. If you live in America today, you are extremely wealthy, compared to nearly anywhere else on the planet — no matter who you are or what you own. Find someone else to focus on, volunteer to help with a community or church outreach, and stop thinking the world revolves around you. Drop the drama and get on with life.

Is This “Acceptable Behavior”?

As we congratulated the graduating homeschool senior, he addressed us as Mr. and Mrs. Morrison and thanked us for attending the ceremony. My husband fondly gripped his shoulder and chuckled, “You can call me by my first name — you’re an adult now.” The young man’s face showed a touch of embarrassment as he glanced around the room for his parents. “No,” he replied, “I can’t.” We understood. The graduate’s parents insisted that their children address adults by formal titles and last names only. To do otherwise was considered unacceptable behavior in their family.

Some parents instruct their children to call me Miss Carolyn, others call me Mrs. Morrison, and still others simply use my first name with no formal title, which is actually my preference as a very casual Midwesterner. The decision of how to address elders lies with each family and their preference for formality, and the manners are enforced by them, not by me. This philosophy also applies to “store manners,” “indoor voices,” “company behavior,” and other special occasions for which we have special rules. Each family sets and enforces its own guidelines for acceptable behavior.

When my children exhibited behavior that was inappropriate for the circumstances, I quietly took the offender aside and explained in age-appropriate language why this was not acceptable behavior and offered an alternative response so that the child would know how I expected him to act the next time. Removing the child from the public eye for this heart-to-heart chat avoided further embarrassment for either of us, thereby preventing revenge from becoming part of the mix. If an apology was required, I also tried to help the child see the situation from the opposing point of view, so that (hopefully) he could empathize with the offended party and offer a sincere apology.

Once the limits of acceptability have been established, the parent can simply ask the child “Is this acceptable behavior?” The child now knows the answer himself and can correct his actions without further discussion. Sometimes the parent may need to use a slightly firmer tact of “This is not acceptable behavior,” but the outcome should still be the same with the child correcting his own actions. If the child has successfully learned what is and what is not acceptable behavior, the parent does not need to go through the teaching process again any time a rule has been broken. To do so raises the child to the position of control in the situation — something no parent wants to have happen.

We have all been caught in the supermarket checkout lane when an over-tired toddler takes control of his harried parent. Either the child is immediately rewarded with candy, toys, and mechanical pony rides, or all the other shoppers in the store are subjected to his ear-piercing screams until he finally does get his way. (I am continually reminded by my young adult children, “You never let us get away with that behavior!” I am not sure if they are bothered more by the disruption or by the thought that they missed out on a lot of loot.) When my young children asked if they could have a toy or candy, I gave them a definite answer, either yes or no. In the case of a negative answer, they would often ask again a few seconds later. I always replied, “I already answered that. Will my answer change?” It took very few repetitions of this scenario before they learned to stop asking — Mom almost never changed her mind. Once they had learned not to beg and plead for trinkets and trifles, it was great fun for me to offer them a treat as a reward for good behavior. The reward was not given on every trip, though, lest it become expected and cease being a reward.

Expect your children to test the limits you set up. (See Parent Is a Verb for a more complete explanation of why children test boundaries.) Do not expect children to understand acceptable vs. unacceptable behavior unless a thorough explanation has also been given at some point in time. However, once the boundaries have been set, your word should remain law with only very rare exceptions allowed under extreme circumstances. Only occasional reminders should be necessary to correct unacceptable situations, keeping the parents in the seat of authority and keeping the children much happier with a lowered level of stress in the entire family.

Respect Must Be Earned

Respect is not just the title of a Motown song. Aretha Franklin may have settled for “just a little bit,” but even more is possible when taking the right approach. Respect is not given away freely, however — respect must be earned. If your actions or your words or your life’s witness is not worthy of respect, you can demand respect from now until Doomsday, but you will never get respect. The only way to get respect is to be worthy of it — then it comes automatically.

If you show respect to those around you, specifically to your students, you will likely get respect in return. If you despise those around you by constantly demanding, whining, and complaining to or about them, no amount of demanding, whining, or complaining will earn that respect for you. Show respect to those actions worthy of respect — praising what can be praised and looking for virtue and goodness in the unexpected areas of life. Remember the old adage of attracting more flies with honey than with vinegar.

I treated my children the way I wanted to be treated — I said “please” and “thank you” to them just as I would have said to another adult. Hearing it over and over impressed the routine into their brains, and they were soon saying “the magic words” as well, needing only a few gentle reminders and earning encouraging praise. One day I was babysitting a neighbor’s sons after school, and the older boy had gone across the street (with permission) to play with the other neighborhood children. As I called to him out my front door and asked him to “please come home now,” another Mom heard me from her front yard. “Boy, I can sure tell he’s not really your kid!” was her response. “Nobody would say ‘please’ to their own kids!” I was shocked. I had always asked my own children to “please do” things. Another day I babysat that woman’s daughter for a few hours and learned first-hand that there was a severe lack of both manners and respect in their home.

One rule I set up in our home was that “a closed door is considered to be a locked door,” meaning that anyone desiring privacy could close his bedroom door and know that he had a sanctuary to himself. I admit that the reason behind it was that our house is old and has settled oddly, making bedroom doors almost impossible to latch. However, the lesson in respect was taught as I knocked on my children’s doors and waited for permission to enter their space. They eventually reciprocated by knocking on each other’s doors before entering. (Be patient on this one — the youngest child seems to experience the least personal privacy and takes the longest to learn how to respect it.)

We belonged to several homeschool support groups over the years, and participated in many activities: field trips, co-op classes and sports, family potlucks, business meetings — a wide variety of situations in which to observe interpersonal relationships. From those encounters, it became easy to distinguish which families exercised respect toward each other. The parents who shouted and demanded attention were also the ones who showed no respect to anyone else, adult or child, family or friend. The students in the group had no respect for those adults — not surprisingly. The adults who were well respected by the students were those who modeled respect to everyone, asking with a “please,” sharing smiles and encouraging words, and not barking orders like a drill sergeant.

If you have recently removed your children from an institutional school setting (or would like to), you probably are experiencing problems with respect. Even if you have been homeschooling for several years, if you currently find yourself surrounded by family members who show no respect to each other, including yourself, you do have a long, slow climb ahead of you — but this mountain can be mastered. You must lead by example, since yours is the behavior you have the most direct influence on. Once you have begun to change your own responses, then you will have the grounds on which to enforce the change in others as well.

Begin with a complete change in your own attitude: recognize that the only direction to take is up and out of this hole that you have dug yourselves into. Follow that with a sincere apology to the rest of your family — spouse and children. Apologize to them for having been a poor example, explain to them why you feel a change in everyone’s behavior is necessary, and give them a few examples of what you will be doing to start changing your own outlook — then follow through on your own list. Either this radical, 180-degree shift will leave your loved ones open-mouthed with shock and an instant dose of newfound respect, or they will be rolling on the floor in convulsive laughter, wiping the tears from their cheeks, and gasping for breath. If the latter scenario happens, calmly walk away, steeling yourself with new resolve, and work all the harder to prove how seriously you are taking this — your family will be won over only through solid, physical evidence. Slip-ups and setbacks will inevitably occur, but asking your family for their forgiveness when you fail, and graciously extending your forgiveness to them for their failures will keep everyone headed in the desired direction.

From time to time, I have found myself in head-to-head disagreements with I-demand-your-respect administrative-types, whether in homeschooling associations or fill-in-the-blank-other groups. When I have been confronted with my adversaries in heated debates, my level of respect for them sinks in proportion to their stubbornness and refusal to listen to any opposing views. Once, however, several months after I had withdrawn my membership from a certain group over a particularly nasty debacle, a member of the opposing side showed up at my front door, genuinely humbled, asking for my forgiveness. Let me tell you — my respect for that person was instantly renewed — and to sky-high proportions! Our friendship was restored immediately, without reserve or second thoughts.

A similar transformation will take place between family members — when sincerity is present. Consider what it would take to earn your respect in a situation between adults, and then apply that to your relationships with your students. Children can sense genuineness and will never be fooled by fakery. For this endeavor to succeed, you must be steadfast and diligent in your attempts to earn their respect. When I obviously blew it as a teacher, I apologized for my ignorance and for my shortcomings and was always rewarded with another chance from my students. When my lessons became tedious or boring, I asked my students for their input and always received wonderful suggestions. When I felt I was not getting proper respect, I made it clear that I knew I was not the final authority on how-to-homeschool, and we all benefited from the sharing of thoughts and ideas and taking second looks (and thirds and fourths…) at what we wanted to accomplish and discussing how we would like to get there.

Whether you are deeply embedded in a pattern of being disrespectful to those you love or you just want to establish good habits before the bad ones take hold, be assured that one person’s attitude is contagious. Be aware of what comes out of your own mouth, monitor what you allow to be said (and done) by others in your household, and set your course for mutual respect. I say again, the only way to get respect is to be worthy of it. Respect is not given away; respect must be earned.

POST SCRIPT
One more, very important way of showing respect is done by not insisting that your activity is the only important activity. Suppose my son is enjoying a video game during his free time, but the kitchen trashcan is overflowing. Tomorrow is trash collection day, and emptying the trash is my son’s responsibility. I go to the room where my son is playing his game and watch the screen for a few seconds to see how intense the action is. When it appears to be at an appropriate lull, I ask him if he can pause the game for a moment. Once the game has been paused, I will kindly remind him of his trash duty, add that it is overflowing now, and finish with my thanks in advance for completing the job. I also add any conditions of whether the job must be done immediately, or if it can wait until he has finished playing the game — with the caveat that the chore must be accomplished before supper or before bedtime, etc.

Allowing my child to finish the activity he is currently involved with sends the message that I see his time as important, too, not just my time. I reap the rewards of this when my children come to me for a favor: they will specify whether they need the assistance immediately or if it can wait a few minutes or a few days. If I were consistently interrupting my children’s activities, demanding that they drop everything to do my bidding, they would soon develop great resentment towards me, knowing that I view them as mere slaves. When I respect their efforts, they respect those efforts as well, and it shows in the results.

Letter and Number Recognition

Once upon a time, every typewriter produced the exact same font and all printed books looked pretty much the same. Once upon a time, everyone learned handwriting in the exact same format, and (when done with care) nearly everyone’s handwriting looked the same as anyone else’s. I remember being fascinated that each of my teachers could write on the chalkboard exactly like each of the other teachers. (My own handwriting never quite measured up.) Now we live in a computer-driven world, with no limit to the designs of fonts available. This can present real difficulty for some children in recognizing the similarities and learning their letters. The same problem exists with numbers, sometimes posing an even greater stumbling block.

We overcame this obstacle with a simple, inexpensive, and fun activity. We made a notebook containing samples of each letter (one letter per page), and another notebook for numbers. We scrounged through newspapers, old magazines, and junk mail for examples to be included in our books. The children soon became great detectives, learning to decide for themselves if a certain letter was an “m” or an “n,” or a “P” or an “R,” and “Mom, is this right?” was heard less and less. Children are always attracted by scissors and glue, so the motivation was simple.

Many alphabet books will display numerous objects beginning with each chosen sound, but few will bother to show each letter in different fonts. I remember being stumped as a very young student when my older sister showed me the author’s name on her latest Nancy Drew book and asked me if I could read it. The name, CAROLYN KEENE, was printed in all upper case letters. I was learning to print my name with only a capital “C” and the rest in lower case letters. There seemed to be something very familiar about the author’s name, but it still did not look quite right to me. A generation later, I shared this story with my own children and explained my early confusion with the use of upper and lower case letters. As we assembled our letter notebook, we included both upper and lower case examples, making the variety of letter appearances much less confusing to them.

Our number notebook had individual pages for 0-19, and then grouped pages for the 20’s, 30’s and so on. Once the children had understood the concept from the letter notebook, the number differences were more easily grasped. The 0-9 pages were the most important, since they showed the variations in fonts and all the other pages built upon that principle. We did include a few pictures, usually clipped from grocery ads, showing groups of 3 apples or 5 bananas or a six-pack of soda cans.

The notebooks themselves were scrounged from whatever we had already lying around the house: old 3-ring binders and loose-leaf filler paper, or leftover spiral notebooks with just enough pages remaining. Making the notebooks was the primary exercise in learning the lesson; once the notebooks were completed, we rarely returned to look at them again, unless it was to add another unique example.

Children, from those just beginning to learn their letters to those beginning to read, will benefit from a lesson in the varieties of font designs. A few pieces of paper bound together in some form of booklet, scissors, and a glue stick will be the basis for your simple lesson. All you have to add is junk mail.

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