We have had a rough, rough, really rough year with homeschooling this year. Did I emphasize the rough part enough? Some of the children have simply sailed through, meeting their daily education head on with a smile and a job-well done sigh at the end of the day. However, for our oldest two, hearing the words "School time!" being sung out in the morning has meant another day of frustration, tears, and all out stubborn-I-can't-do-it-itis.
Scott and I struggled so much over what to do. The kids had outlined extreme educational goals for themselves this year and both Shelby and Dawson were falling further and further behind with every single moment that passed. We had numerous discussions about personal discipline, accountability, and pushing through to the goal. Nothing made any difference.
Finally, toward mid-January I was on my knees in tears. I couldn't think of anything I could do to make a difference for these two precious children. They aren't bad kids. They aren't unintelligent. They have so many incredible qualities. Why on earth were they refusing to apply these gifts to their education? And then I heard that small voice which only comes when you are finally done trying to solve it on your own and you truly and utterly give it over to God. "They have ADD."
No way. Not possible. They are in their upper education, can focus when they choose to, and wouldn't we have discovered this way before now? Again, the voice. "They have ADD."
I went down stairs, jumped online and did some half-hearted research (insert here: stubbornly refusing to even consider the possibility while looking simply so I could rule it out.) Reading the teen ADD page for Shelby was like reading her life in print. Everything fit. Everything. Ditto for reading the symptoms for Dawson. It was such a match to what we have been struggling with that it was eerie.
I copied the symptoms and forwarded them to Scott at work, and he was equally stunned at how specifically the kids matched. We contacted our pediatrician and had evaluations done. Yes, they have ADD. Yes, it is controllable without daily medication. No, further evaluations aren't needed at this time, but serious modifications to ensure maximum success for both Shelby and Dawson needed to be implemented as quickly as possible.
I came home both relieved and frustrated. Relieved because we now know that neither of them are slackers and there is an actual medical reason for their struggles. It was very similar to the feelings of relief the day they were both diagnosed dyslexic. The sense of aha. So that's why this is so hard.
The feelings of frustration, though, were completely personal. Absolute disappointment that in the midst of all the craziness I never once stopped to really evaluate this year's homeschooling successes and failures against our main objective of individualized success in learning. Rather than questioning the content of the year to make certain Shelby and Dawson both had a chance to succeed, we were focused with almost myopic intensity on meeting each and every day's to do list. As they feel behind, I never once questioned the content or the style but instead assumed it was a lack of personal discipline.
I met with their evaluator and we have since dumped all electives and anything not required for the year. We have scaled back their personal objectives. We have worked again to focus on positive encouragement. And, probably the most valuable decision we made - we have walked away from school for the better part of a month. Writing projects were completed and books were still read. But an absolute ban on math, english, history and science was enacted so we could just focus on building back these fragile esteems that Scott and I had spent the better part of a year tearing down.
The difference in Shelby and Dawson is remarkable. They are smiling again. Laughter is heard with much more frequency. The relationships with their brothers and sisters is again a friendly one as the pressure has been lifted. And they are entering back into the process of learning with a hopeful attitude instead of a defeated one.
I am grateful for this past year of homeschooling not because of the pain it caused, but because of the reminders we so obviously needed. We needed to be reminded that we chose to homeschool not so we would have brilliant children who graduated high school early with a concurrent associates degree in college. We chose to homeschool so our kids would be able to learn using their style. So that they would have a great relationship within their own family and all ages outside. So that our kids would grow up learning while also becoming really, really great people. And, most importantly, so they could develop a relationship with God that wasn't daily challenged by a world view completely contrary to our own.
Notes like those at the beginning of this post have been sparse this past year. I am happy to report that as we have revisited our primary goals as a family, they are again cropping up just about everywhere. It feels good to be back on track.
Scott and I struggled so much over what to do. The kids had outlined extreme educational goals for themselves this year and both Shelby and Dawson were falling further and further behind with every single moment that passed. We had numerous discussions about personal discipline, accountability, and pushing through to the goal. Nothing made any difference.
Finally, toward mid-January I was on my knees in tears. I couldn't think of anything I could do to make a difference for these two precious children. They aren't bad kids. They aren't unintelligent. They have so many incredible qualities. Why on earth were they refusing to apply these gifts to their education? And then I heard that small voice which only comes when you are finally done trying to solve it on your own and you truly and utterly give it over to God. "They have ADD."
No way. Not possible. They are in their upper education, can focus when they choose to, and wouldn't we have discovered this way before now? Again, the voice. "They have ADD."
I went down stairs, jumped online and did some half-hearted research (insert here: stubbornly refusing to even consider the possibility while looking simply so I could rule it out.) Reading the teen ADD page for Shelby was like reading her life in print. Everything fit. Everything. Ditto for reading the symptoms for Dawson. It was such a match to what we have been struggling with that it was eerie.
I copied the symptoms and forwarded them to Scott at work, and he was equally stunned at how specifically the kids matched. We contacted our pediatrician and had evaluations done. Yes, they have ADD. Yes, it is controllable without daily medication. No, further evaluations aren't needed at this time, but serious modifications to ensure maximum success for both Shelby and Dawson needed to be implemented as quickly as possible.
I came home both relieved and frustrated. Relieved because we now know that neither of them are slackers and there is an actual medical reason for their struggles. It was very similar to the feelings of relief the day they were both diagnosed dyslexic. The sense of aha. So that's why this is so hard.
The feelings of frustration, though, were completely personal. Absolute disappointment that in the midst of all the craziness I never once stopped to really evaluate this year's homeschooling successes and failures against our main objective of individualized success in learning. Rather than questioning the content of the year to make certain Shelby and Dawson both had a chance to succeed, we were focused with almost myopic intensity on meeting each and every day's to do list. As they feel behind, I never once questioned the content or the style but instead assumed it was a lack of personal discipline.
I met with their evaluator and we have since dumped all electives and anything not required for the year. We have scaled back their personal objectives. We have worked again to focus on positive encouragement. And, probably the most valuable decision we made - we have walked away from school for the better part of a month. Writing projects were completed and books were still read. But an absolute ban on math, english, history and science was enacted so we could just focus on building back these fragile esteems that Scott and I had spent the better part of a year tearing down.
The difference in Shelby and Dawson is remarkable. They are smiling again. Laughter is heard with much more frequency. The relationships with their brothers and sisters is again a friendly one as the pressure has been lifted. And they are entering back into the process of learning with a hopeful attitude instead of a defeated one.
I am grateful for this past year of homeschooling not because of the pain it caused, but because of the reminders we so obviously needed. We needed to be reminded that we chose to homeschool not so we would have brilliant children who graduated high school early with a concurrent associates degree in college. We chose to homeschool so our kids would be able to learn using their style. So that they would have a great relationship within their own family and all ages outside. So that our kids would grow up learning while also becoming really, really great people. And, most importantly, so they could develop a relationship with God that wasn't daily challenged by a world view completely contrary to our own.
Notes like those at the beginning of this post have been sparse this past year. I am happy to report that as we have revisited our primary goals as a family, they are again cropping up just about everywhere. It feels good to be back on track.
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