When I first started homeschooling, I was apprehensive about facing public response. I have vivid memories from my childhood of strangers reacting to our family’s educational choices.
Homeschooling back in the dark ages of the 80’s meant that 9 times out of 10 the responses weren’t good. People didn’t know what homeschooling was, or if they did, they disapproved. The “how will they socialize” question that has become a clichéd joke was legitimately posed to my parents on a regular basis. So I anticipated negativity and judgement.
I’m slowly learning to expect better.
It was 11:15 on a Monday morning. The week already felt like it was dragging. I had washed dishes, run laundry, changed sheets, visited the post office and then hit the grocery store before 9 a.m. I just suffered through vaccinations for all three children, which involved a 45 minute wait even though I’d been promised “walk-in” service. It took me three tries to leave the house as items were forgotten and children weren’t particularly excited to load the car for shots.
Now I perch my three little kiddos at a Chick-fil-A table and distribute nuggets, lemonade and fruit cups. After five trips for sauce and napkins, they are finally settled in and I nervously flip to the History chapter we’re studying. The long visit at the doctor put us a bit behind for the morning. With one eye on the 3-year-old (I was crazy to say “yes” to honey as a dipping sauce), I begin reading out loud about Elizabeth I of England.
The children are mostly attentive, but I find myself distracted as the line at the register is filling with customers. In my peripheral vision, I notice several people glancing our way.
I cringe inwardly.
As a second generation homeschooler, I’m particularly sensitive to the public’s view of homeschooling. As a child, my family experienced a lot of disapproval, most of it from sheer ignorance. Now I glance around wondering if they are judging me because my children aren’t in school, because my 3-year-old isn’t using his “inside voice” or because I’m letting them having ice cream before noon. I remind myself my job is not to seek the approval of strangers and I start to clean up the sticky mess that is my son (maybe ice cream before noon really wasn’t a good idea).
As we are preparing to leave a middle aged gentleman in business clothes approached us. “I want you to know, I really appreciate what you’re doing, mom,” he said warmly, gesturing to our history book open on the table. “You guys have a good day.” He smiled, waved and headed to the exit.
Now, my friends and family will tell you I’m not usually an emotional person. But I have to admit, at that moment I could have melted into a puddle or burst into grateful tears. To have a stranger acknowledge my efforts and to see my heart for my children despite the mess and clutter and non-traditional classroom that was the Chick-fil-A dining area … well, I can’t tell you what that meant. And it made me vow to do my best to encourage someone else that very day.
Who can I encourage today? Is it the cheerful clerk at Publix who smiles to my children and compliments them? Is it the Walmart cashier who is clearly wishing himself anywhere else? Is it the helicopter mom at the park carefully guarding her kids from risk? Or maybe the mom who is trying to read a book while her children play? Maybe the teacher of the year at school? What about the teacher who gives too much homework and doesn’t have enough patience?
My goal this week is to worry less about what people are thinking of me, and spend more time encouraging others. I want my mommy drive-bys to be about building up another mama, not tearing her down.