It’s Spring Break for the school kids in our part of the world, so when the flooring guy came to fix a tile yesterday, he couldn’t resist expressing concern that the kids were doing work on their holiday.
His intention seemed kind-hearted. He wasn’t the curmudgeonly sort in the grocery store yelping, you should put those kids in school (yes, I’ve met that person).
No, this guy seemed genuinely concerned.
I then infused the tile guy’s world with a new thought: Our kids don’t go to school; they’re homeschooled. We get breaks all over the place, but we’re not taking one now.
Still, I’d be well on my way to my eldest daughter’s college fund if I had a quarter for every concerned comment I’ve heard.
With a raised eyebrow, this man left our kitchen floor a little more intact but also left with skepticism.
To be or not to be what other people want, that is the question.
This homeschooling lifestyle has equipped me with a lot of independent muscle since I’ve grappled with why I’m doing this homeschool thing when so many question my choice.
I’ve had to decide why I am choosing to pursue a path that ninety-seven out of a hundred are not choosing (statistics from my province).
I’ve learned how to stand on my own feet, not search for others’ affirmation because it’s not often forthcoming.
I’ve had plenty of time and practice.
When I no longer registered others’ comments as affronts or challenges, I realized that most people just cared what happened to other peoples’ kids.
They weren’t intentional picketers for the institution. They’d just not thought of another way to educate their children.
When I stopped caring what other people think, I could decide for myself how I wanted to fill my day, how I wanted to approach formal studies, whether I wanted to do an extracurricular activity every day or twice a week.
I could decide everything.