...is a question that's been launched in my direction quite a lot over the last month, referring to my decision to remove Tigger from school at the end of the Spring Term and take responsibility for her continuing education myself. I have to say, I have asked it a few times myself, usually at the fag-end of day and energy.
But, well. And hey. And um. I mean to say... why NOT?
Most people (by which I mean, to my shame, me up until about a month ago) remain ignorant of the law as it applies to what they now call Elective Home Education (as opposed to Accidental Home Education, I suppose, which is that unedifying process whereby the little darlings pick up and commit to memory every naughty word you utter). Did you know that it is not compulsory for a child of any age to attend school, ever? I certainly didn't. Know, that is. I just assumed that what I'd heard, vaguely, somewhere - to wit, that it was illegal for any child of school age to not be enrolled in a school - was correct, but as any Navy SEAL will tell you, assumption is the mother of all screw-ups (or some pithy words to that effect). Under UK law, children do not have to go to school.
The crucial point (to quote the relevant legislation) is that the child is provided with an education suitable to their age and aptitude - nothing more, nothing less. What that education should include is really up to you and your child. No National Curriculum, no SATs; you can do Circus Skills before breakfast, collect tadpoles from the stream while your child's friends troop to school; walk the dog in the woods; catch a nap if you or your child needs it, then, refreshed, launch into some of the BBC Bitesize Maths pages after lunch, before collaborating with your child on making lasagne for tea. Everybody learns things every day, structured and unstructured, abstract and concrete, useful and trivial. A big part of Home Edding is realising that this is not just OK, but really one of the major points of the exercise.
Most people (by which I mean, to my shame, me up until about a month ago) remain ignorant of the law as it applies to what they now call Elective Home Education (as opposed to Accidental Home Education, I suppose, which is that unedifying process whereby the little darlings pick up and commit to memory every naughty word you utter). Did you know that it is not compulsory for a child of any age to attend school, ever? I certainly didn't. Know, that is. I just assumed that what I'd heard, vaguely, somewhere - to wit, that it was illegal for any child of school age to not be enrolled in a school - was correct, but as any Navy SEAL will tell you, assumption is the mother of all screw-ups (or some pithy words to that effect). Under UK law, children do not have to go to school.
The crucial point (to quote the relevant legislation) is that the child is provided with an education suitable to their age and aptitude - nothing more, nothing less. What that education should include is really up to you and your child. No National Curriculum, no SATs; you can do Circus Skills before breakfast, collect tadpoles from the stream while your child's friends troop to school; walk the dog in the woods; catch a nap if you or your child needs it, then, refreshed, launch into some of the BBC Bitesize Maths pages after lunch, before collaborating with your child on making lasagne for tea. Everybody learns things every day, structured and unstructured, abstract and concrete, useful and trivial. A big part of Home Edding is realising that this is not just OK, but really one of the major points of the exercise.
I can see why it wouldn't suit everyone. There are a lot of decisions to be made. Whichever parent majors on the Educational Thing (and still, even now, that usually means the mother) will probably not be able to earn at the same time. An organised type might manage a part-time job, but then there's child-care... Single parents - and I speak as a Sole Child-Rearer of almost four years' standing - will struggle to manage unless they get a decent amount of benefits or don't mind (as here) working from home amid the chaos. I can say, paw on heart, that I have learned things about time management recently that I hoped never to have to know. God knows I didn't want to, but unless you choose to forge the Radical Unschooling path - something I'm not equipped for, personally - you have to acknowledge that time flits on and if you don't do certain things at certain times, it's quite possible to reach the end of another week and see an educational desert of DVDs, Facebook, Toontown and Playstation games involving snowboards, unicorns and training in anti-social behaviour. You peer back into the mists of Monday, and mutter, "Well, we went swimming... that must count as PE, surely...? And you figured out how to fix your bike brakes when they siezed up on Wednesday... Cycle Maintenance? Engineering? Garden Shed Tech?"
"Woteverrr," drawls Tigger, engrossed in Media Studies (aka Watching Daytime TV) and Social Sciences (aka Watching 'Wife Swap USA' on Daytime TV).
Grind teeth, remind her for the gazillionth time that the W word is banned in our house now, and instead amuse myself by recalling her recent advancement in English Language:
It was the stroppy end of a stroppy day, and Tigger was in full-on Attack Mode with added springs. No casual remark went unchallenged or un-snorted-at. After a final command from me to go and tidy her room, Tigger tossed her head and shouted, "I can't be arsed!"
With great dignity, I informed her that 'arsed', whilst not technically a swear word, was unladylike, and that if one wished to utter anything with a similar sentiment, one should say something like, "I can't be bothered!"
Short pause.
Short pause.
"Fine!" Tigger yelled, with a glint in her eye. "I don't give a rat's BOTHERED!!"
The stuff of which family legends are made. And now, here I am, sitting on my bothered, writing about it.
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