“And she home-schools!”  This is the tag line I’ve most often heard attributed to my list of accomplishments when people are favorably introducing me or my work.  Some folks mention the farm, some mention the books and essays, some mention the letters behind my name, and others mention the fact that I make the best home fries and egg sandwiches they’ve ever tasted.  But they all mention the home-schooling.  Interestingly, it’s also the tag line people use when excusing me for my transgressions (irritable, sarcastic, obsessive, abrupt, forgetful, anti-social, etc).  “Well…she’s really tired.  She home-schools…”

I think Saoirse and Ula have a lot to do with the accolades and allowances.  Home-schooling is paying off, and people notice them.  They’re great human beings, conscious of their impact on the world, and determined to make it a better place in exchange for an opportunity to experience it.  

But right now, I get a lot of the credit.  And I use it to my full advantage. 

Labor Day weekend marks the end of summer for us.  The cafe returns to a fall schedule, and we resume our academic schedule.  That means every weekday morning we enter our sacred bubble where the phone is ignored, appointments are refused, farm business is pushed aside, and we focus on books, math problems, writing, studying plants, researching, and working on personal art and craft projects.  Both girls employ obligatory sneers and shoulder droops when they tell their friends they’re no longer available to hang out at any hour because “we’re back in school.”  But they both come to me during this first week, smiles broad, shoulders relaxed, interest piqued.  “Thank GOD we’re back in school,” they quietly tell me as we study math problems.  “I’m so GLAD to be back in school,” they hop about the kitchen as we prepare lunch.  We bar the world from our door so that we can turn inward and focus on our minds.  But this isn’t prison for us.  It’s a form of liberation.  

I’m thankful to live in a society that values education.  While people may disagree about whether homeschooling is a suitable option for children, there is general consensus that education holds paramount importance.  That creates phenomenal room in my life.  I don’t have to tell the world I’m choosing to shut it out to focus on the minds of my children.  Society sees it as compulsory.  It’s regarded as an added burden that I’ve absorbed into my life, underscoring the fact that I apparently work harder than most, making a selfless sacrifice for my children:  “And she home-schools!”

Yet, I think that many of the greatest pleasures I experience in my life are because I home school.  It’s thrilling to sit beside Saoirse, forgetting about bills, emails and social media in favor of puzzling through algebra problems together.  It’s joyous to sit in the living room at night reading Jane Eyre to them for the first time, as Ula interrupts in outrage over the behavior of the wealthy toward the lower classes, or as they both try to figure out the mystery that lies behind the locked door on the third floor.  I see the hues on the water, daily track the growth of Monarch caterpillars on our milkweed, and re-acquaint myself with the native wildflowers, all because I look at the world through the lens of educating my daughters.

I try to imagine all the freedom I’ll enjoy once I finish homeschooling.  I’m nearing the end of my fifteen-year commitment, and I have a lot of it waiting for me.

Instead, I find myself quietly dreading that future time.  The freedom lies here, in these moments, with these children.  Society believes children should be educated, so no one questions the space or time demands required. I benefit, because the time spent sitting beside them is regarded as a “chore.”   Society has a harder time understanding that a full-grown woman might need that same kind of sacred space in order to be happy and healthy…Even if that space doesn’t generate income, pump money into the economy, keep the house in good repair, make the yard look good, or keep the community’s social and family machinations operating smoothly.  

I’ve always felt the ten years I spent in higher education were owing to the fact that it took me longer than most to learn to teach myself.  The fifteen years I’m devoting to homeschooling my children have been a personal journey, disguised as a selfless act, where I’m learning to love learning.  The question is, will I be able to walk away from this at the end of year fifteen and know how to maintain that same sacred space and time for my own mind?  Will I be able to do it without chastising myself for being self-indulgent?  Or will I forget its importance in the rush to see to the next detail, do just-this-one-thing-first, and allow myself to fall victim to life’s daily preoccupations? 

I don’t know.  I only know this:  I have just four years left on this home-schooling journey.  I intend to savor every moment of it.