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Baking 101

The blogosphere is full of back to school tales. From kids of bloggers to teachers’ classrooms, images of school abound. For me, the year begins in September. I’ve spent too much time in academia to change my habits. My day-planner runs August to August. I’m conditioned to think of September as a fresh start. New shoes, new clothes, new backpack, new paper, new pencils. New. Begin again. Fresh slate. Start over.

Homeschooling changes this reality on some fronts. It seemed a little forced to tell the kid to stand in his front yard for a “back-to-school” photo, only to then call him back inside for the morning. It’s not like he had a bus to catch, after all. And we’ve not bothered with the new school clothes drill in ages. My willowy child is weedy, keenly aware that highwaters are not a fashion statement of any kind. Pants should be long, like his hair. So, we buy new pants all the time and rarely schedule haircuts. Only having attended 3 years of brick and mortar public school, the back-to-school impulse never imprinted on him and he’s found his own rhythms.

It’s not that I miss the trappings of tradition. School shopping was tedious. Boy Wonder has never had a distinct style he liked, but he was plenty clear about what he didn’t like. Trying on clothes was high on that list. Yet, once he was cajoled into the dressing room, he would be completely non-committal or worse, insistent that everything fit, even if it didn’t. When he stopped going to a brick and mortar school and I realized that I wasn’t under any obligation to dress him in clothes that matched just to sit on our couch to read… I whipped out my computer and saved us all the experience. We’ve never looked back on that front.

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Recipe never far away.

The markers of change are just different for us. And there isn’t a direct replacement value for the trappings of tradition. I don’t have an equal exchange for Back-to-school night or the photos in the front yard waiting for the bus. It never seemed important to find an alternative. Instead, we’ve embraced a completely different pattern; one that has worked for us. Our photos are mundane and look like snapshots of any household—there is nothing in them that marks the beginning of something new. Without a guide to explain what you are seeing, you might not notice the difference in the record of our life.

But, there is a difference. For the past two years, while we considered ourselves homeschoolers, we were in fact part of an online charter school. Public school at home. And while we might not have shopped for new clothes or posed for pre-bus photos, we still had schedules to keep, projects to complete, books to read, teachers who called, and grades issued—all markers of our involvement in something larger than ourselves. It was a great system. It gave us the flexibility we needed while allowing us to teach our child in his learning style. We never regretted the decision to pull him out of public school, because in essence, we hadn’t. There was a safety net beneath us and it proved a rich environment to learn this art of home educating.

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mmm… Pumpkin Chocolate-chip Squares.

The best part of the program is that it allowed our child to work at his own pace. Our sponge ate up the information and in the process found himself in 6th grade this year. Like most public school systems, the entry into middle school marks a shift in the way we educate children—and it’s a shift that may work for other kids, but not ours. Instead of having one teacher to account to, we now had half a dozen… each with their own expectations and most suffering from the “my subject is the most important” syndrome. Where we once had flexibility to dig deeper and provide enrichment that actually counted for credit, the emphasis was now on getting through the material in a timely manner. That might pass as education for some people—but it’s never been our definition.

And so, with a deep breath but with the full knowledge that we’d spent the past two years preparing for this (and blessing from our homeroom teacher who felt it was time!) we registered with the ESD as homeschoolers. While the markers have changed, we feel remarkably the same. I’m not sure what will imprint on Boy Wonder; if September will mean the beginning of fall or the start of a new year, or something completely unimaginable to me. I have no idea what of our schedules and our methods will take hold and become the definition of “school” for him. The rhythms that mark his life are so completely different than mine and I have never had any expectation otherwise. He’s been charting his own course since inception and I’m finally at a place where I can see that.

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Back to School.

But I do know this, I know that as we walk this mile of the journey together, we are headed back to school in a way that works for us. And I suspect, that someday, he will be headed off to school in a way that looks more traditional… just don’t expect him to mark the occasion with a haircut or new clothes. If we’re lucky, we’ll get a snap-shot of him in the front yard. . .