Weaving Ourselves into the Homeschooling Community

by Susie Miller, SCHA Chair

(first printed in the SCHA newsletter in 2008)

“We don't accomplish anything in this world alone ... and whatever happens is the result of the whole tapestry of one's life and all the weavings of individual threads from one to another that creates something.”

- Sandra Day O’Connor, former U.S. Supreme Court Justice

Catherine, a friend of a friend, looked at me across the kitchen island. Her eyes were bright (tears?) and wide. Really wide. “If I knew where the homeschoolers were, well, then I could consider it. I can’t do this by myself!” She rushed on, “The thing that scares me is this vision of me in one room and my son in another and…then what!?”

I knew exactly where she was, I knew because only three years ago I was right there on that very spot. My oldest son, Harry, was floundering in traditional school and I was looking at my options. Homeschooling was one of them, but honestly, it had only just crossed my radar. I’d never considered it before then. And between traditional school and homeschool there seemed to be this big crevasse. What would happen if we ventured out into the unknown? I had trouble breathing while I considered it. It was the same for Catherine. Her son was attending a private school but he wasn’t happy, had never been happy, and he was begging her to homeschool him. He knew, but she was balking. At my house, Harry had finally said, “I’m ready. What are you waiting for?” That’s when I knew it was time to cross over.

The first thing I did was join SCHA and HSC (HomeSchool association of California). I’m someone who thrives in community. I like to dig in, find my place, get to work, make some friends, get my hands dirty. I wanted to be connected, read the magazine, the emails, the newsletter. I know people who started homeschooling without knowing anyone else doing it. Who lived in a place with no support system for homeschoolers. Where they had to deal with the truant officers and the “Why aren’t you in school today?” questions from the ladies at the market checkout counters. I can’t imagine their fortitude, their inner resolve, their self-assurance.

What a huge thing to do all by yourself.

I didn’t feel very confident about homeschooling, I needed encouragement at first. Sure I’d been a teacher for years, that fact gave me cache with the relatives, of course. Yet, I knew in my gut that this journey was not going to follow any path I had yet laid out. I wasn’t sure at all how you homeschooled someone. Give me a classroom and a few great pieces of curriculum, I can inspire you. But my own kid? At home?

There is this image that people have of homeschoolers sequestered in their houses, never getting out, never seeing people other than their own families. But I recall being warned by a friend just before we started our homeschool journey: “The hardest part of homeschooling here is carving out enough time to actually be at home! There are so many things to do that you often get pulled away and the time at home is precious.” She was so right!

Thank goodness the path had been forged for me by all those other homeschoolers. I bow in gratitude to the ones who started these groups, who homeschooled before it was relatively easy, before it became practically mainstream. Thank goodness they had the foresight to start SCHA and all those other homeschool support groups and magazines and email lists. I benefited (and continue to benefit) tremendously from their efforts.

What I got from my community of homeschoolers was support. I asked questions on a homeschool email group and got the most amazing responses. When I inquired whether or not it was healthy to bring home my budding adolescent right as he was about to “break away” and individuate I received a response from a couple of articulate teens who told me about all that they did and how homeschooling did anything but cramp their style. Sure they spent a lot more time with their parents than their schooled counterparts, but they expressed themselves even more because they hadn’t been forced into the peer pressure-cooker. Their parents gave them space and they had great relationships with each other. How novel! When the following year I asked, “Should I bring home my other two kids? Can I really homeschool all three of my boys?” I got all the hand-holding I needed and some great pep talks.

During our first year “out” our family was faced with some huge crises: a death, a move, an illness and extended hospital stay. Harry was at home with my mom and I was away for a time, unable to make the community connections he needed. A homeschooling friend put out a request on our SCHA e-tree asking for playdates for him, new friends in a time of need. And many came through. It was the surest sense of community I had. People stepping forward to take care of my son, strangers really. And now our friends.

Our second year was when we hit our stride. I brought home my middle and youngest children and suddenly it was all of us, the whole Miller gang going to classes and park days and playdates. We joined 4-H, went to ROSS Outdoor Science Camp, attended the Angel Island Civil War overnight, and became regular fixtures at the Petaluma Park Day. All activities organized by SCHA members. Every member of our family made new buddies. And these events met my needs as much as they did the boys’. Because of our homeschooling community I felt connected and supported. I had girlfriends to process, laugh, gripe, chat, and whine with, and also to whom I could lend my own support when they needed it.

This past year has seen another evolution. We tried out some new activities (Dungeons and Dragons), we returned to some old ones (ice skating at Snoopy’s Home Ice and rock climbing at Vertex). I started organizing unschoolers’ events and was contacted by other moms who wanted to create a new unschooling community (the SUNN, Sonoma UNschoolers Network). I led workshops at the HSC conference in August. The boys dug in a little deeper in our homeschool Madrone 4-H club, taking on leadership roles and getting involved in more projects. I found myself mentoring new homeschoolers here and there and loving it. Talking about homeschooling gets my juices flowing and I find renewed passion when I’m reassuring someone just considering making the change. Finally, I decided to volunteer to be SCHA’s Chair.

So, the other day, as Catherine looked to me for reassurance, I pointed her towards the amazing community of homeschoolers that is here for her. I gave her books to read, a newsletter to pore over, a list of excellent homeschooling links on the web, an email group to join. She doesn’t have to embark on this journey alone. She can hook into as much or as little of the goings-on as is right for her family, but she definitely doesn’t have to do it on her own.

It’s a surprising place for me, being SCHA Chair. I’m still a relative newbie, you know. There are many of you out there who started homeschooling years before it was even a twinkle in my eye, so to speak. But my passion for this way of life is huge and my enthusiasm for our community is strong. I’d like to make a difference in our homeschooling “neighborhood,” make the sometimes daunting choice to homeschool a little easier and more fulfilling for families in and around Sonoma County, if I can.

I encourage you to let me know what you’d like to see happen with SCHA. It’s your community. Hopefully, you’ll agree with me that a more vital and vibrant SCHA means more support for each homeschooling family in our area who wants to engage. I hope to read your posts on our email list, see the classes you’re organizing in the announcements pages, and see your faces at our Homeschool 101 chats, park days, and potluck events. SCHA is what we all make of it and I am very excited to be a big part of it today. Introduce yourself to me when you have a chance. And, thanks for your support, it wouldn’t be a community without you.