Ten of us sat in the front room at the house of a couple I’d never before met. Outside in darkness the fog misted; we were warm on cushioned, antique-styled chairs and couches. We became haltingly acquainted, and then amid awkward pauses and with differing styles, we prayed.
An older guy from around the block, Bob the Lawnmower Man (no reference to Stephen King – Bob fixes and sells lawnmowers to folks who stop along his street), brought us together. A bounce in his stride, Bob’s a heart attack survivor who’s thankful every minute that God kept him from death nine years ago; he brims with joyful passion to tell people good news.
Though I’m still processing the prayer “event,” I’m glad it happened. We’ll see how we do at holding more of them. At any rate, I figure, couldn’t hurt.
My mornings lately have brimmed with solitary writing time – yippee, I love it. Sure would be nice if during some afternoon I’d get good writing news, but what I have I do appreciate. And even moreso this past week, as I’ve been introduced and welcomed into an online writing group. Specifically, it’s an email list where writers (many of them many-times published) critique each other’s work and discuss stuff of authorly interest.
This all takes time away from blogging, but it keeps me off the streets (good, seeing as I have no lawnmowers to sell).
This all brings new stretching for me in the realm of interaction and people skills. As I’ve no doubt written before, the years we homeschooled our kids I always laughed when a well-intentioned adult cast his or her concerned gaze upon me after I’d admitted our educational method. “But,” he or she would splutter, “what do you do about socialization?”
After a few years I learned how to answer. “We take them for visits to friends’ houses if they’re far away,” I’d say, “although our son is buddies with at least five kids close by. But, honestly, the two of them do well around people of all ages. I’m the one who, compared to them, is the shrinking violet. And I was doing okay as a child, I think, until I was forced every day to attend public school.”
Sure, probably I would have turned out like this, stretched to the max by dealing with people, whatever way I’d been schooled. And stretching’s not bad; it’s part of life. But the model we’ve got for socializing kids, well, I’d tweak it some on a government level if I could. That would entail politics, though, and that would be harder than praying with the neighbors.
I’m not a fan of the school systems either. And I get that a lot, since my daughter is in on-line school. “What about interacting with her peers?” *sigh* I think she’s getting over her prior interactions. They did enough damage.
I was sensitive to stuff (or maybe later, I thought back to myself going along with stuff), having attended high school and junior high in the city (Tacoma). By the time I had kids, I knew things weren’t getting better. I hold out hope that they will, somehow. But it wasn’t soon enough for us.
Hope your daughter’s hanging in there all right, Jodi.
You are to be commended for doing the work of home-schooling! I really would have loved that myself…
What’s so great about being part of a meat-packing-plant style of schooling? At least, that’s what it felt like to me… (I still feel so grateful, whatever happens, that I’m not in high school anymore!)
One of the nicest aspects of this area is that the schools are locally (very locally) administered & being both rural and in a harsh environment of sorts forces us to socialize to survive & ensure our neighbors do as well. Our kids went to schools all over the world, and the best education they got was the times they were home-schooled or enrolled in the schools of the country we were in.
Any education that doesn't consist of as much parental involvement as is possible will be lacking. Involved parents, even those not fortunate enough to be educated themselves, have always seemed to me to be the key to their children's success. A child will instinctively strive to have parental approval and involvement.
I've never known of a kid who didn't find their own way to socialize. Often it's parents or peer pressure that stifles them. As long as their activities are monitored and their friends made known to parents, they'll do well if given the proper tools with which to make good decisions. Too much exposure to a world they're not ready for can be as damaging as overprotecting them from the world as it is. Just my thinking anyway. Our 'successes' (their successes really) are all those we had a part in raising; 4 kids biologically ours, 4 adopted, and 16 foster 'troubled teens' we managed to steer to adulthood with little obvious damage.
We're all still close and they're all doing well,so guess something went right. I've found that good parenting is instinctive in most cases.(yadayadayada, Old Indian be quiet now)
Yeah, Fresca. I was particularly grateful to Charles Schulz, as I related so well to Charlie Brown. Then as an adult I read To Kill a Mockingbird, and I was happy for Scout to have a dad (I’m sure based on Harper Lee’s father), who understood that school, while required and helpful, isn’t the end-all of one’s education. From what you posted about your dad, sounds like you had plenty of good ways to be enriched besides the packing-plant style. I could go on…guess I just did.
And Mike, sounds like you did what I, as I kid, said I’d do – have a few kids and then adopt and help a bunch of others. Way to go. You and the missus are amazing. “Too much exposure to a world they’re not ready for can be as damaging as overprotecting them from the world as it is.” I so agree.
Bob the Lawnmower man is an inspiration.
Thanks for sharing these places and spaces of your life, Deanna.
(Good to see you in church. We neither one of us had anything earth shattering to share in that little after-church moment- it was funny how we just sorta….looked at each other. Ha! Some things just can’t be uttered in an aisle by the door, huh.)
Cherie, after church I’m often still absorbing and processing what we just studied – not the greatest moment to socialize (there’s that word again), but even a brief hello can be such a bright spot (as it was with you yesterday). Have a good week.
Me, too, with the absorbing. Always absorbing – sometimes to the point that I’m quite anti-social for awhile. But I prefer that – it suits me. You and I are quite alike.
(((Hugs)))
We two, Cherie. We’re alike in very differing ways, I think. (Huh?)