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madrobinsI am a staunch, fervent enthusiastic supporter of public education. You may have noticed. And yet. I know there are many reasons to homeschool. I couldn't do it myself--I'd kill someone, myself or the kids. Self knowledge is so important, don't you think?
Be that as it may: the estimable Jon Carroll has a smart, thoughtful piece about homeschooling in today's Chronicle. Basically, everything I think on the subject is pretty much encapsulated right there. The point is to engender a fascination with the world, its history, its languages, its workings, then satisfy the craving for information that fascination creates. Some kids learn well in school; some schools teach well. But not everyone fits, and there (ideally) is where homeschooling comes in.
Of course, parents teach all the time. You should have heard me teaching on Monday afternoon when Avocado and I had a cookie booth in the Castro, right opposite a sex shop that was advertising all sorts of wares on an electronic banner. "Mama, what's a cock ring?" "Eeeww! Did that really say--" (whispered) "dildoes? What do you do with a dildo anyway?" The trick is to answer a little, stop, see if the kid really wants more, then plow ahead. I'm probably a lot better with English history or literature than with the sexual habits of my fellow San Franciscans. I have no credentials to speak of, other than the rush of panic each time these questions rear up, but so far we're managing.
Be that as it may: the estimable Jon Carroll has a smart, thoughtful piece about homeschooling in today's Chronicle. Basically, everything I think on the subject is pretty much encapsulated right there. The point is to engender a fascination with the world, its history, its languages, its workings, then satisfy the craving for information that fascination creates. Some kids learn well in school; some schools teach well. But not everyone fits, and there (ideally) is where homeschooling comes in.
Of course, parents teach all the time. You should have heard me teaching on Monday afternoon when Avocado and I had a cookie booth in the Castro, right opposite a sex shop that was advertising all sorts of wares on an electronic banner. "Mama, what's a cock ring?" "Eeeww! Did that really say--" (whispered) "dildoes? What do you do with a dildo anyway?" The trick is to answer a little, stop, see if the kid really wants more, then plow ahead. I'm probably a lot better with English history or literature than with the sexual habits of my fellow San Franciscans. I have no credentials to speak of, other than the rush of panic each time these questions rear up, but so far we're managing.