The S-word

I am a retired homeschool mom. I like to say “retired” instead of “former” because the only reason I stopped is that I ran out of children. I could have had more I guess, but my babies kept getting bigger and I stopped just shy of the 10-pound mark. In this scenario I am a quitter.

One time I was hiking with the some women friends in Asheville. When I was with this group, I liked to be the sweeper—the person who is at the rear who makes sure no one gets left in the dust. We followed the LNT principles: Leave No Trace, especially leave no person. That was my job.

So there I was, sweeping and listening to the conversation ahead of me, when someone mentioned I was rather quiet. I remarked, “Oh, I’m just listening and thinking. I don’t talk a lot unless I feel like I need to say something.” Somehow they all thought that was funny . . . and odd. So they wanted to know what subjects I could talk a lot about.

I said, “I could talk all day about homeschooling.”

And you’ll NEVER guess what homeschool-related topic was the FIRST one to come up!

Yes, the S-word: socialization.

I used to get asked that question all the time when I was teaching my five kids at home, so I have some thoughts about it.

We’ve completely mis-defined the concept of socialization. We put 25 or 30 same-age kids from similar backgrounds in a classroom together for 7–8 hours a day, 5 days a week, tell them all to face the front and don’t talk and only listen to the teacher, and we call it socialization. And you know what that is? Dumb. They only learn how to get along with people who are exactly like them and only in a very structured environment. Even my cows can do that.

Here’s what true socialization looks like: 30 people of different ages, different backgrounds, different races and ethnicities, from different cultures and different income levels, who have different skills and talents and different opinions on important matters of life. Get along with all those people and you will have been socialized.

So how do you make sure your homeschooled children get enough socialization?

Well first of all, you have a bunch. (Haha I kid.) (A little.) I had five children in eight years so they would be close enough to play together without one being big enough to completely terrorize the others. They’re all still alive so I’d say my experiment worked.

But seriously, think about all the people you interact with in a day. Have your children interact with them too. This is not rocket science.

Instead of always shushing the children, do this: Have your child pay the cashier, speak to the bank teller (does anyone actually go to a brick-and-mortar bank anymore?), order her own lunch at the restaurant, ask the dry cleaner for extra starch, and answer the dental hygienist’s questions. Stop speaking for your children and teach them to speak for themselves. Model how to chat with the person next to you in the doctor’s waiting room.

Here is a true story that illustrates this in a horrifying way. Years ago my daughter Abbey severely broke her arm. She had surgery during which a long pin was inserted from her elbow to her wrist, and we had quite a few appointments with the orthopedic surgeon after that.

One day I and all five children walked into the waiting room of the doctor’s office and looked around. It’s usually hard to find that many seats all together. The older kids found a corner and sat on the floor to read the books they’d brought with them. My youngest, not quite 3 years old at the time, was holding my hand. I sat in a chair and there was an empty chair between me and another lady. I patted the empty chair and said, “Sit here, honey,” and he replied very quietly, “I don’t want to sit next to the black lady.”

I heard you gasp, but I didn’t have time for that. I jumped up and sat next to the lady (whose arm and hand were on the armrest), pulled my little guy up on my lap facing her, and said out loud, “She’s a nice lady. I bet she’s a mama too, just like me.” I put my hand right next to hers, touching, and said, “See? She’s just like me but my skin is light brown and her skin is dark brown. She has a wedding ring on like I do.” I went on talking about all the ways the lady was probably just like me. The very kind lady looked at my boy and smiled and chatted with us a little. I wanted to hug her for being so gracious.

Then not two days later, we were in some store where my young son was sitting in the grocery cart command seat. While we were standing in line to check out, his little workboot got stuck when he was trying to pull his foot through the hole, and a very kind African-American man helped him get it unstuck. I believe God sent that man to be one more witness to my son that people are people and skin color doesn’t make a bit of difference.

That was very important socialization of the kind that’s not learned in a classroom while sitting in formation.

While you’re out in public, teach your children how to ask thoughtful questions and how to look a person in the eye when you’re speaking to them. When you pull up to a tollbooth on the highway, give the child behind you money, roll down his window, and have him pay the toll and ask for a receipt. (I know, EZ-Pass and all. We adults are de-socializing ourselves.) Have him order ham and cheese and roast beef at the deli counter.

If you want your children to be social adults, show them how to be that by being it yourself in front of them. Talk them through how to do it. Involve them in your conversations. For Pete’s sake take their electronics away and have them interact with real people living real life.

That is socialization.