Why it had to be home schooling
I am often asked (and criticised about) why we chose to home-school our three children. Amika had been in the school system for seven years and was on the brink of high school. Zen was in year 3 and had adored being extended during remote learning. And Kaiya was about to embark on that exciting transition to kindy and had been busy preparing for “big school.”
Making the decision to home school at that time was one of the biggest challenges of my life, and it was a decision I could not make on my own.
Daniel had watched me agonise over the years, over that which I felt I had no voice:
the over-use of devices in schools;
the access to inappropriate content, sometimes daily;
the serious gaps in knowledge for one child, whilst the other craved stimulation and extension;
** might I add here what a difficult task it must be to be a teacher these days, having to navigate all the demands of parents, children, and the curriculum. I feel for teachers and the manifold nature of their role. It feels almost impossible. **
and a child who was to enter high school, academically ill-prepared and emotionally vulnerable to all the additional pressures, confusion and teachings that are synonymous with being a teenager now.
All I have ever wanted for our children is for them to know who they are and what they stand for, and it felt that this was becoming more and more difficult in schools (and in life, in general).
And then, covid restrictions and pressures for children to conform gave new impetus for our decision to home school.
With an anxious heart but a supportive husband who would be sharing the role, I applied to NESA to commence home education.
Well-intentioned friends and family were adamant and vocal that we were wrong. We were told we would fail the children
academically (how will they reach their full potential?);
socially (how will they meet and interact with others?);
emotionally (how will they cope in the “real world” if we shield them so?);
and culturally (how can we pull our children out of a system that was one of the very reasons our grandparents migrated to Australia in the first place – for a better education for future generations?)
The stress and angst involved was almost too difficult to bear. I was brought to my knees, and I did all I could do.
I prayed. I prayed in earnest, unsure if that voice tapping on my heart was fear, uncertainty or anxiety, or if it would open us up to a path that would bring great happiness and peace.
My prayers were answered and we embarked on our home school journey.
Has it been smooth sailing? Absolutely not.
Has it come with great sacrifice? Of course.
Do I still question our decision? Less and less each day.
We have found a sense of peace and freedom in our decision.
We have been able to quieten the noise around us and tap into what each child needs (even our teenager who was diagnosed with Generalised Anxiety Disorder from a young age can no longer be described as anxious).
We have music in our home like never before…(and I don’t just mean the strings, piano or singing).
The kids are thriving in ways we never knew was possible.
We will continue to take each year as it comes, but this decision, for our family, feels like it was a part of a symphony being written for us.
For those of you who have reached out wanting to learn more about the home school application process, I am happy to help.
And those for whom home school is not an option but who desperately want a change, think about the ways in which you might be able to quieten the noise around you for your family. It may be device-related, social media-related, substance abuse-related; find what makes your foundation strong again.
It won’t necessarily look like what it does for us, but the conscious steps to doing this may be the exact thing you need to have music in your home again.