Is this how the professionals do it? While stumbling through a complex Calculus concept involving parametric equations, I wondered if there was a better way to help my student understand. What tips and tricks do Calculus teachers know that might help me here? Fortunately, searching for something this specific is feasible, and I can quickly learn what to do. But, there are other areas of homeschooling, as in any new endeavor, where we may wonder if we’re doing it the way the experts do it.

“You don’t own a laminator?!?” my friend responded with shock and surprise. “You’re a homeschooler, and I thought all homeschoolers would own one!” Nope. Not this homeschooler, and that doesn’t mean I’m not a “real” homeschooler. At what point can you decide you are authentically available for the label of “homeschooler”? Do you wait until you’ve officially offered notice to your local school board? Do you wait until you’ve taught your first lesson?

We may think our envy is innocent, but it has enormous impact. We begin by thinking, “I don’t have what I want.” We look around and notice someone who does have the thing we are lacking. Perhaps the thing we want is obedient children, or academic success, or financial security. We start to think about why they don’t deserve what they have. We pass judgment on them and their worthiness. If we can’t have it, we don’t want them to have it either.

Homeschooling allows us to honor choice rather than pressuring a child to conform. These thoughtful questions from Marshall Rosenberg cause us to step back and consider motivation: What would we like the child to do? What would we like the child’s reasons to be for doing it? The older our child becomes, the longer the list of “things we would like the child to do.” We want our child to study, to clean, to participate willingly in family time, to have initiative about helping around the house, to demonstrate love.

After she successfully intercepted a pass, my daughter’s opponent moaned, “It’s only because you’re so tall!” Certainly, there are times when height is a great advantage. My children and I are all remarkably tall. We can reach high shelves; we have long strides when we walk and run; we buy pants with 34” inseams. But, there are times when height matters not at all. When a peer jealousy whined, “you can only juggle that well because you’re tall!

Curation is the process of synthesizing content, and often includes displaying it in an appealing way. A curator mixes by making unexpected connections. A curator leads by predicting curiosity. A curator filters by honing down the quantity, finding the signal within the noise Curators are creators. Homeschoolers are creators. We can nurture environments that allow our children to meaningfully link related information. We can make space for ideas and thoughts that synthesize learning.

The bonsai tree collection at the National Arboretum is one of our favorite places to visit. I love the peaceful simplicity of these trees. Bonsai trees aren’t ostentatious. They demonstrate the effect of intentional care and attention rather than frills and excess. Seeing them reminds me to slow down and cultivate my most important priorities. Growing bonsai trees takes patience. Homeschooling takes patience. Results are often slow in coming. Time has a dominant role in both.

Testing is a type of lens, and may be useful in some contexts. Consider, as an analogy, this description of the attributes of one type of lens: binoculars. “Binocular vision is a peculiarly exclusive form of looking,” explains Robert Macfarlane. “It draws a circle around the focused-on object and shuts out the world’s generous remainder. What binoculars grant you in focus and reach, they deny you in periphery. To view an object through them is to see it in crisp isolation, encircled by blackness – as though at the end of a tunnel.

After a challenging afternoon, I was worried our dinnertime would continue the same arguments and frustrations. Unexpectedly, we began reminiscing about our trip to the City Museum in St. Louis, Missouri four years ago. We talked and laughed, recalling all the unexpected aspects of that wonky building! (Like the school bus hanging off the edge of the top floor!) I was grateful for the way reminiscing turned round our mood.

This sign is on the busy bike path near my home, and the cat is literally sitting right underneath it. Though I have mixed feelings about animals wandering the neighborhood, I do think the message “I’m not lost” can apply to our homeschooling. We might as well wear t-shirts that say, “I promise I’m happy, healthy and very loved with a safe and warm home!” Maybe another line, “And even though I’m homeschooled, you don’t need to quiz me on my spelling or state capitals!