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Wednesday, March 16, 2016

Atypical Leanings




The article linked here was interesting to read. It jogged a few memories for me.
FYI, this is very personal, I rarely share my beliefs on a blog that encompasses my creative work. You've been warned.
So please be respectful and think before you verbally react. Thank you. 

As a homeschool mom I was always torn between offering large amounts of fort building time (they still talk about that) or insisting they finish their math (no fond reminisces there). I felt I would fail them if I didn't offer everything they needed to become mature intellectually stimulated preteens. (Reading Geo Washington's Rules of Civility didn't help. He copied them down as a teenager for crying out loud.)

Unschooling vs Academic Excellence. Charlotte Mason vs A Beka. So many options!!
I began as I meant to go on. I sought God for guidance, in terms of economy and their psyches. I continued to learn who my children were, listened for clues, watched the results, and adjusted as necessary. 

One day I read a short piece by Donna Partow in our HS newsletter that solidified my choices. To roughly paraphrase; God is speaking here: "are you raising your child to be a genius who barely tolerates Me, or one who loves me and is a so-so student?" 

Of course she, and I, strove for academic competence, but what a stress-release to work on the character first. So many times, in my own home, waiting was proven to be the best choice. Always. Each time they were able to bring their studies up to grade level in a very short time. I had the luxury to assess regularly. I only had 4 students after all. Also, who else in this world would care more than I for my children and their future decisions? No one. My mantra at the time was relationships before duties

I had concerns; that we would embrace the ongoing HS sub-culture of judgment and superiority, of denying our struggles and projecting a false confident image, that my four daughters could lose their hard-won rights to be an equal voice in this world; pulled into the undertow of stifling, female submissiveness rampant in that HS culture. 

I was less concerned over their spiritual lives. I left that up to Him. I exposed them to scripture, biographies, and the church culture; attempting to emphasize relationship over posturing. Sigh. The HS and church environments still fostered divisiveness and exclusionary tactics. You had to dig real deep for the gold; for Truth and genuine people. I hold fast to it, to them. 

Missteps were made. I was learning here too. I wasn't even 30 years old yet. Every well-meaning adult gave input. Rarely did they trust my love for my children and my instincts for teaching them. I always heard (in a roundabout way) what even far-flung relatives felt about my decisions. Fear was battled every day when I considered what well-meaning people might do. 

Trust me, this was no laissez-faire endeavor. Planning, research, verifiable evidentiary results, etc...went before every single decision. This is a 24/7 job, that I undertook for 14 years. Hey, what can I say?! I'm a dedicated kind of person. 
(A sense of humor is not optional).

We may have looked like your typical HS family when we were in the trenches, but over time their individuality, and our personality as a family, emerged. This scared some families and our circle of friends changed and morphed accordingly. Que sera, sera. 

Homeschooling did not create perfect students or perfect adults. It did create four adults who can communicate, reason, seek knowledge, debate, and care. 
Their work ethic is amazing and their capacity to feel for others is incredible. 
I never wanted our family to be typical anyhow. 
Mission accomplished!
Ciao for now,
-Trish


Wednesday, March 9, 2016

Fear and Loathing...Myself


Title too harsh for you? Too raw? 
Too transparent? TMI; too much information? Yeah.  I hear ya.
It makes you want to hand around cliches, like tissues during flu season; "buck up Buttercup" or "it could be worse" or "tomorrow is another day" or  "think positive".  Sigh.  I am guilty of saying all of the above.
Let me sort through this mess I have created here. There are a few things weighing my heart tonight, so much so that I cannot sleep before writing it down. 
People matter, you matter. 
People have value, you have value. 
People have feelings, you have feelings. 
Not every feeling I have is valid. It's sad but true. I have irrational, unsubstantiated feelings. 
I have felt lonely in a crowd.  I have felt slighted on social media.  I have felt ugly looking in a mirror.  I give my emotions too much street cred.
Seriously. As if my emotions grew up on the street and can direct me to the safe neighborhoods to loiter in. "Here you go Trish, I have the perfect pity party for you".  "Psst...Trish, make an abrupt turn on Anger Street".  Funny, yet not funny. 
It has taken me many moons to identify when my emotions are valid or not; decades of moons. This is called maturity. Then an interesting season called menopause plays havoc with your emotions and you can't trust your previous legend on the emotion map.  Yikes! I am lost once more.
This reminds me of my hormonal teenage years.  The years filled with the aforementioned fear and loathing.  Years in which I could not tell anyone of my constant suicidal thoughts. It was the 70s. They locked you away for that stuff.  I coped.  Not always in a healthy way, but I found what worked for me. I created a niche for me that felt normal, that created security for me; that allowed me to be myself.  I just never knew that I was not alone; in my thoughts, in my fear and loathing,
Lately, there have been too many sad stories of suicide victims. I don't know all of the stories, but the few I do break my heart. 
Sometimes we are afraid and we loathe ourselves because someone who matters to us cannot accept us the way we are.  
They need us to be ______.  (You can fill in the blank).  
Perhaps fear of the unknown, and loathing our inadequacies, creates an artificial environment where death seems our only way out.
Maybe we are in thrall to our emotion's street cred and accept every emotional hill and valley as concrete proof that we don't belong here.
There are definitely physical challenges and mental illnesses that can also manufacture an end-game scenario. 
Now what?!  Good point.  
First, be kind.
Be kind to yourself.
Be kind to your kids.
Be kind to your parents.
Be kind to your friends and neighbors.
Be kind to your students/employees/strangers.
Second, make a friend and trust them with who you are.
Friends, listen, really hear.  Accept, love, and walk with them.
Lastly, learn to take an emotional inventory. 
Find a trusted source to hold your emotions up against for evaluation. (Reevaluate as needed).
Compare them to someone mature you look up to.  Someone real.
I know this is barely a drop in the bucket, but I needed to say it.
I love you all; known and unknown.
Ciao for now,
-Trish