Unschooling to School: Measuring Up

First ever math homework!

Recently my son did an assessment test before his first school experience. He entered grade seven having spent no more than about 20 hours each year completing math questions and writing assignments, so they needed to see how he would fit into the group. Apparently his computation and spelling barely attain "grade level", while his math and reading comprehension are above. To discover that our son is miraculously working at grade level, despite having never completed a "grade" or test in his life was certainly reassuring. For parents traveling a largely uncharted path with our kids' education, that felt like a huge pat on the back. But I am wary of being caught in the trap of "measuring up". The whole reason we're doing this is to instil in our children a desire to live fulfilled, rich lives, independent from societal and social expectations.

Most miraculous, to me at least, was the fact that he enjoyed the test. "It was interesting!" He exclaimed upon coming out of the room. "I liked that I got to write about what I like to do. The teacher was very nice, also." And it occurred to me that these are the things that deeply matter in life: that we are engaged in what we do, and that we are held with respect and compassion by others.

I admit that I have a lot of trepidation about this schooling adventure. I had a terrible time at school. I was the last person chosen for teams in gym class (people actually fought over who had to have me on their team), I achieved mostly minimal grades, and was bored all the time. I felt invisible, and worse, it seemed that when people did see me they wanted to hurt me. I never measured up. Now I've put so much faith in holding my children close, in allowing them to venture out into the world without the measuring sticks of school applied to them, with the hope of keeping their spirits in tact. I'm so scared this year of school will break my boy's spirit; maybe my own. But life is not for the faint of heart, right? So off we go. I will do everything in my ability to keep his fire stoked and his dreams his own; to remind him that every day is his to determine, and I will judge him always only by how much I love him.

Unschooling to School: First Day

It may seem rather odd that we, who have been so gleefully unschooling for all these years, have sent our son to school. And an independent IB World School of all places, too. But actually it's just a part of the whole. Unschooling is about following our own and our children's interests and dreams, and this seemed to be the next step in his. So we support him in that.

This morning I wanted to make him a special breakfast - a kind of ceremonial first rite, the idea for which I got from a friend who sent her daughter off to this school for the first time last year. But he refused! He wanted to make his own breakfast. He wanted to make himself instant biryani and continue with the book which I suspect he was up most of the night reading! So, wanting as usual to respect his journey, I just photographed the meal.

He spent his first day at school today. He was overwhelmed and happy when he got back. This is going to be a slow transition for various reasons, not the least of which for his sleep patterns, but he was ready for the change, and we clearly made the right decision in sending him.

This afternoon my 12 year old son walked in the door, and for the first time in his life I said, "Hi lovely! How was your day at school?" And then I jittered up and down like a silly person, so thrilled to have uttered those words.

He looked at me and smiled, maturely. "It was good!"

Unschooling to School: How it All Began

We got the call at 11:53 AM, just as we were cleaning up from a Big Giant Open-Air Sleepover. "So Taliesin's funding has been approved." I had barely slept the night before. Between the party prep, three days of frantic form-filling, funding-searching, and assessment-doing for a last-ditch attempt to get Tali into our local independent school, finding out suddenly that our one remaining pet, Amber, has a growing tumour in her face and trying to work my mind - again - around the word 'palliative'... I took a moment to come to terms with the words: "Taliesin's funding has been approved."

Half an hour later, Tali and I were in the car in the ferry lineup, with supply lists for grade 7 and for the 3-day orientation camping trip. Technically we have the weekend to buy these supplies, but who wants to be driving around town on Labour Day Weekend?! So we tried to do it all on Friday evening. We were in shock - what can I say.

As I stood looking stunned in the chaotic, rummaged-through school supply section, I saw Tali excitedly slipping extra pens into the basket along with his many other "supplies". And a scientific calculator. He was in heaven. I was debating how badly he'd be looked upon for having coloured erasers instead of white; for having two 2-inch binders instead of one 3-inch binder. Then, as we literally ran between stores, flying in the doors and begging for fleece pants and hoodies (the list explicitly says no cotton for the camping trip), and getting more and more bewildered with every shop we entered (we normally buy clothing second-hand), I realized in a flash that I now know EXACTLY WHAT PRETTY WOMAN FELT LIKE!! Whatever her name was. Apparently my highschool days have well and truly re-entered my mind. How embarrassing.

Tali got used cleats AND new hiking boots AND new runners, yesterday. And 20 pencils and 10 pens and 3 packages of 8 binder-dividers, and... It was the unschooler's Pretty Woman moment for sure. We blew the bank, and we still have to find money for our portion of the actual tuition. Wow.

We're still in shock.

How on earth did this happen?? Three days earlier the head of the school looked me square in the eyes and asked "Are you sure? Because this IS a school." And I said yes.

I said yes.

My son, who has never attended school, begins grade 7 on Tuesday.
All of a sudden, from unschooling to an International Bacchelauriate World School.
The school where MY BROTHER teaches!!!
We have to buy a green v-neck sweater.

And I said yes.

I'll report back eventually.
This fell on our heads like a rain of meteors.
There is going to be one hell of a good unschooling-to-school story coming up. I can feel it.