Why I Don't Home School

Even Though I'm "Alternative"

My daughter is 3. You could put me in the “crunchy mum” box, should you want to label me that way. The conventions of unconventional modern millennial motherhood tell me I should probably homeschool. But I don’t. In this article, I share why.

The pendulum has swung greatly from the expectation we should send our kids to school to the expectation that if we’re “alternative”, we should be homeschooling, worldschooling, or even, perhaps, radically unschooling our children.

John Taylor Gatto, a staunch critic of compulsory schooling, former New York State Teacher of the Year, and author of Dumbing Us Down, gets us thinking twice about the conventional route when he says:

Is there an idea more radical in the history of the human race than turning your children over to total strangers whom you know nothing about, and having those strangers work on your child's mind, out of your sight, for a period of twelve years? Could there be a more radical idea than that?

—John Taylor Gatto

So does Dayna Martin, creator of Radical Unschooling, who says, “We were raised in an era where the parental role was focused on obedience and control. As children, we were trained to believe that life is about taking orders, which in essence only met the needs of the adults in our lives…Unschooling has a foundation of trust in children that is virtually unheard of in our culture because most of us were never trusted as children ourselves.”

In an era of reform, rebellion, and outright madness, why not keep our kids home from the dangers of school and let them grow alongside us at home? It sounds like a legitimately beautiful idea for most.

But there’s more to the conversation. And even a man as outspoken as John Taylor Gatto thought. When travelling the USA as a public speaker on school reform, Gatto learned “a revelation..of what might be possible”.

Childhood education is an art.

If you attended public or private school, you wouldn’t know that. You were probably raised to be an obedient slave destined for the work force, and taught that the main tenet of life was choosing a vocation you’d be tied to for the rest of your life. And you felt the immense burden of choosing wisely.

But there’s a middle ground between letting the State raise your child and letting your child raise themselves and I feel the call to speak loudly about this because neither option I mentioned is preferable. They’re unfavourable extremes of a spectrum.

Children are our future and raising them wholly requires knowing what’s available for us to do that.

Educating a child wholly—on all levels of their being—requires immense will, feeling, thinking, dedication, and intention.

And as a mother who is also a businesswoman, wife, friend, daughter, cook, and all of the other roles that come with being a mother, it’s impossible for me to place the intention my daughter deserves on being her educator too.

Despite being someone who is dedicated to health, self-reflection, personal growth, and self-development, I’m not the right person for the job. And I’m not afraid to say that. I love my daughter, I’m an incredible mother, and I simply can’t provide the rhythm and reverence my daughter needs to thrive.

This is why she attends a small, community Waldorf school where the continuous self-development of the adult forms the basis of kindergarten life.

“The Steiner philosophy that drives Waldorf education is a philosophy in which human possibility is seen as infinite…Waldorf recognizes the genius in all and sets out quite deliberately to coax the muscles of that genius into play—in a far different fashion than the pedagogical orthodoxy…”

John Taylor Gatto, foreword, Understanding Waldorf Education

Worthy of Imitation

If you’ve heard of Rudolf Steiner and his educational approach known as Steiner Waldorf education (or perhaps either Steiner or Waldorf in your country), you may have heard that the first seven years of life are known as the “Stage of Imitation”.

What does he or she imitate? Everything. If you have a child, you know this. You’ve probably noticed most strikingly when you let an F bomb drop and it drips out of your child’s mouth a few days later laced with joy and innocence in front of a stranger.

Or when you slip up as your anger rises one day and offer a loud NO, which later comes to bite you in the arse via a tiny mimic.

“The little child, up to the age of seven, up to the change of teeth, is essentially imitative. He learns by doing what he sees being done around him. Fundamentally, all activities of the child’s early years are imitations.”

Rahima Baldwin

Every action, sight, sound, emotion, or other sense impression is absorbed into the child’s inner being. (Gulp, yes. That says EVERY.)

All parents know how capable children are of imitation. Thus, if we are to educate them, we must be “worthy of imitation”. We must set the example we want our children to follow.

Now, if like me, you want your child to grow modelling and valuing love, respect, curiosity, dignity, wonder, and warmth, they need to imitate that from a worthy example. Homeschoolers are right in that the public schooling system does not offer that opportunity.

But am I worthy of imitation at all hours of the day? I do model these values at home, but I don’t provide an environment I deem intentional enough for my child to be immersed in all day every day. There are examples who are more worthy of imitation than I am, for reasons to follow.

Though I live my life constantly striving to be “worthy of imitation”, I am also a wife and online business owner. The typical “entrepreneur” is not worthy of imitation—just think about the time I spend in front of the computer. That is not something to be modelled. It’s not even something a small child can understand.

Homeschooling requires us to ask ourselves, am I worthy of imitation?

When we consider that “everything that is done in their [a child’s’] presence is transformed in their childish organism into spirit, soul, and body,” if we are homeschooling, we must ask ourselves, is my home the right environment? Does it nourish my child’s senses? Am I, as their guide, worthy of imitation?

Now, if you’re feeling pressure, guilt, or dismay reading those words and wanting to shout at me for not understanding how challenging modern parenthood can be, hold up, we’re on the same team. I want you to crush it too. But, are the pressures of modern society too great to be able to be everything to everyone, including teacher to our children?

If you’re thinking, “nice one, Aimee”. Sure, I’m ‘worthy of imitation’ all the time while I’m relentlessly clothing, feeding, guiding, and educating my child” (sarcasm here), then we’re on the same page.

I’m gonna be bold and honest here and say that I believe it’s impossible for you as a parent to be, do, or embody all those things. Which is why I’m writing this. You don’t have to be.

I know I can’t spend 24 hours a day, 7 days a week being that for my daughter. I deny that reality. I don’t want to be all those things to my daughter.

How am I singlehandedly supposed to plan the day to include purposeful activities and play that follow a rhythm (including the in and the out breath), song and rhyme, movement, nap or rest time, nourishing food, and outdoor adventures, all of which are an example and that my child can imitate, whilst being thoughtful, warm, and deliberate with my gestures and speech, remaining calm and present, whilst also running a home and business? 🫠 

This is what is being asked of me if I was to homeschool. And if I did this, I wouldn’t survive. 😂 

As I’ve shared previously, my plate is already overflowing and my cup is pretty empty. If you want me to add the role of educator on top of that pile, something's gotta give.

Thankfully, this is the role of the Waldorf Kindergarten teacher. According to Steiner, this is the constructive way for children to learn. And I believe this wholeheartedly.

The best way to teach young children is to do.

To show them.

To be the example.

To provide a deliberate and intentional example worthy of imitation.

It’s not a role to be taken lightly.

Striving to be models worthy of imitation (with renewed resolve rather than guilt) is the hardest and the most valuable work of parents, and it has the most benefit for our children. To help frazzled parents replenish their energy, Steiner suggests: sleep, meditation, and artistic activity.

—Rahima Baldwin Dancy

Now, as “alternative” or unconventional parents who are likely already committed to a path of personal growth and inner development, what better question to keep us on track than, “Am I worthy of imitation?”

As Chinyelu Kunz says, “every moment of every day our children are watching us and imitating what we do, what we say, as well as how we show up for them.” Adults are the environment, “the weather, so to speak and the child experiences all of it. Young children cannot help but to take it all in because they are like sponges.”

At her school, my daughter spends her time immersed in a mindfully created environment that engages her imagination and nurtures her senses, without overstimulating her. Each morning she is ecstatic to go to school, eager to imitate, and thrives from spending her time there.

I’m not sure I could say the same if I were her teacher.

What the human being sees, what is poured into his environment, becomes a force in him. In accordance with it, he forms himself.

Rudolf Steiner

Reverence

Receive the child in Reverence

Educate them in Love

Let them go forth in Freedom

—Rudolf Steiner

When my daughter enters her school, she is received in reverence. She is welcomed warmly and seen for all her unique human qualities, and spends her day in a highly curated environment. It’s not just another part of her day at home with mum and dad.

How am I, as my daughter’s mother supposed to receive my child with reverence each morning after I have spent the night co-sleeping, breastfeeding, or waking up with either a request for snacks or a dreamtime kick in the face?

Let's take last night for instance.

We had a beautiful weekend with friends and got home later than normal. We had our shower and a little snack before bed. I thought she’d sleep beautifully after having spent the entire weekend running around like a 3 year old does. Yet to my dismay, she was on my boob feeding for almost the entire night.

I thought those nights would be over a long time ago, but here we are. And I'm thinking, why does she want so much boobie tonight? But my consciousness is still half inhabiting the land of dreams, my frontal lobe is off the planet. So it took me a long time to realise, holy shit, she's hungry!

I then go downstairs at around 3am to peel an apple, get some dates, chop it all up, and bring it upstairs. And then at 3am we're having a picnic on the bed with each other. This is a time I'll look back on fondly and laugh at, but at the time it's like, okay, my eyes are bleeding and now I’m my child’s middle of the night snack bitch.

I've barely slept. I've had a child on me for the entire night, sucking at my boob while I lay on my side twisted like a pretzel.

When I wake up I'm thirsty AF and then I have to go about the day. Choosing clothes, making breakfast, singing songs, making craft, and doing ballet before she heads off to school.

If I was homeschooling her, there would be no opportunity for a break. There would have been no ability for me to receive her in reverence because it's just never ending. My mama friends all agree—mum life never ends. If we add homeschooling on top of that, what gives?

Is it intentional parenting?

Education?

Self-reflection?

Food preparation?

Extracurricular activities?

Self care?

Our relationship?

Something has to give because it's just too much load.

If I were homeschooling, to adapt, perhaps I’d expect my child to fit into the rhythm of my day, lug them around the shops with me, put a movie on while I work, or buy some “homeschooling curriculum” books and ask my kids to fill them out while I cook.

None of these activities allow me to be “worthy of imitation”.

When sleeping, breastfeeding, feeding, nurturing, loving, and guiding a child, I question if it’s useful to add “educator” to that list. And the answer I’m lead to is that it's just too much.

I recognise that it's just not possible, viable, or useful for me to do that. So I partner with a collection of people who are trained to do that. People whom are worthy of imitation, who lead by example, who teach her new songs each week that change as the seasons do. Who cook healthy lunch and clean up together. Who lead with positive direction, encourage reverence for the Earth, strengthen her will, inspire play, take her on adventures in nature, tell her magical stories by heart that ignite her imagination, and help her rest and fall into a rhythm.

If I'm to do all of these things for my child every day, plus all the other things that I'm supposed to do, something has to give—and because of my dedication to mother my child with love and intention, what gives will likely be me.

Mums pouring from empty cups

There is a lot of pressure on the “crunchy mum”.

She has to make food from scratch, wear floral dresses, milk her cows, speak with love and grace, service her husband, and free-birth her children, all while sharing it on Instagram.

The burden is real. We’re not just mothering for our family any more; we’re mothering for the internet too. The social media highlight reel gives us expectations which are often crushed when we try and do it all.

Even without homeschooling my daughter, I still don't have enough time and energy in the day to show up and do all the things I need to do.

As I’ve previously shared, the notion of self care is kryptonite for me, because I chose to drop that to the bottom of the Aimee pile and I’m fighting to get it back. It wasn’t intentional, I loved having a fit body, styled hair, and smooth legs. But when I compare those things to showing up for my daughter, and when I have a limited amount of hours to squeeze it all in, it all fell by the wayside.

When I see mothers who still workout, I wonder, what was it that they let go? I believe every modern mother has to make that choice. Anyone who tells you otherwise has the support network we all dream of.

Some women let their body go.

Some let their nutrition go.

Some let their intimacy with their husband go.

Some let the screen parent for them.

It’s just what’s required of the modern mother. It's challenging to fit all of those things into our daily rhythm.

Add to that the need to guide our children with love and transition them into a new activity, when all we want to do is take a nap or time out…

It’s a big load.

It's impossible to be everything to everyone all the time. (That’s a sentence I need on repeat in my mind). And when we put that load on ourselves, we can't be the best that we need to be. I simply cannot be all of those things all at once.

If I’m trying to do it all, I can't be the best version of me for myself, for my child, for my husband, and for my friends. I know from experience that if I try and carry the full load myself, I’m gonna just fall over need to take the break.

And if I was homeschooling my children, this would mean they wouldn’t have anyone guiding or leading them, resulting in them “acting out” because they don’t know what they’re supposed to be doing.

When they “act out” they're calling out for leadership, something to imitate. They—especially children from the ages of zero to seven—need an example to follow. So if we’re overloaded and need to take a break, our children are like, “Oh, what do I do now?” The next minute they're running around like maniacs, fighting, shouting, or hitting each other. And it's because they don’t have any leadership.

Being everything to everyone, just doesn't work—in my view and in my own personal experience.

So this is why I don't homeschool.

I'm sure in some perfect world out there, there is a mother who is able to do all of those things for her children, but I'm honest and real—and that mother isn't me.

So in this era of my life, I choose to educate my daughter via Waldorf education.

She loves it. I love it. And it allows me to hand back that archetype that I didn't ask for and that I held onto for so long, which is the archetype of the Martyr. So many mothers have become martyrs because of what is expected of us in modern motherhood.

And although I choose tools from different boxes and may be labeled in many different ways through the choices that I make, I'm forging my own path ahead and choosing the tools that work for me, despite convention, despite the guilt that is handed down to us, and despite what we are “supposed to be”.

I'm creating traditions and experiences for myself and my family that suit us first and foremost. For us, that means not homeschooling in this era of our life.

I'm so curious whether you homeschool, send your children to public school or alternative education, what your experience has been of carrying the load, and whether you do feel it's possible for us mothers to carry it all.

I'm also curious about what you habitually let slide in your life because I believe that every mother has to let something slide. It's really easy to get caught up thinking that other mothers on Instagram or Facebook or other areas of the internet have it all figured out. They don't. Nobody does.

Let's just be real and support one another to live our own paths and to build a world for our children that allows them to be as whole as they can be.

With love,

Aimee

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