Our Story...
My daughter had always been the kind of girl who loved to get really in the mud: painting not just with her fingers, but with her entire body. She turned each meal into its own art-form with a beautiful mess. So, when we discovered Waldorf Education and visited a few Kindergarten classes, we knew right away that we had found our daughter's second home. She spent three wonderful years in preschool and Kindergarten, lolling around in sweet Waldorf bliss.
Then, first grade hit. Suddenly, she was asked to sit at a desk, learn Math, write cursive, and play the flute, all with perfect precision. There were expectations, and somehow, she was not quite meeting them. Her teacher was giving us, and our daughter, the message that she was behind. Behind? How could she be behind? We were told, with strict direction, that we were not to introduce academics until they could be brought to our child in the gentlest way by her first-grade teacher. It seems that we were one of the few families that stuck to that directive, and now our daughter was considered behind. By second grade, my daughter had developed a habit of scratching her head during class until it bled. More days than not, I received a phone call from the school that she was in the office with a stomachache and should be brought home.
Each night ended in tears as my girl dreaded the next school day, and each morning was a battle to get her up and ready for school. In third grade, most of her class was marching in time with the tasks of reading, writing, and math, but my daughter was struggling with them all. Even though she loved to be read to more than anything else, she refused to read on her own. Her teacher was convinced that we needed to just push her harder and start one-on-one tutoring. But the more we all pushed, the harder that girl dug her heels in. She was not going to budge! The more we pushed, tutored, and worked with her after school, the worse her symptoms became. It was clear to me by fifth grade that something had to give. This child could barely do simple math and was adamantly refusing to read or write. We decided it was time for “testing.” Even though we were attending a private school, we were eligible for academic testing through the Public-School district. After several sessions of painful testing and hours of filling out questionnaires, we had no more answers than when we began. The results of the testing were that our daughter was eligible for Special Education services through the Public School. The tests showed that she needed help in three areas, but the district could only afford to offer us two. In addition, after meeting with the Special Education teacher, there was no way we were going to entrust him with our child. His philosophy was that no matter the cause of the learning disability, whether it be head trauma, birth defects, or learning differences, you treat every kid the same. “You just keep hitting the square peg until it fits through the round hole,” was what he told us. We found this to be unacceptable! |
It's becoming increasingly common for parents to pull a miserable LD or ADHD youngster out of school in the middle of the academic year. It's as though something suddenly snaps. The family may have quietly endured years of IEPs, long conferences, tears from the child, notes from the teacher, promises from the administrators, and bad report cards despite all the energy they put into running a nightly study hall. They may have come to think of it as normal to feel trapped and helpless. But one day, in a sudden moment of clarity, they realize that their child's curiosity has disappeared, that he no longer has the impish zest for living that used to be such a charming part of his personality. When that moment of truth arrives, parents have no trouble severing their ties with the schools with just one word: Enough.” |
The next step was to do testing again with a private Psychologist. Many hours and $2,500.00 later, we had a “diagnosis.” Our daughter had ADHD with Slow Processing and three Specific Learning Disabilities. The Psychologist told us that she had an unusual combination of a higher-than-average IQ with Slow Processing that was so extreme that it basically made anything that she had to read or write inaccessible. He said that even with major intervention, we would be lucky if she could read at a Sixth-Grade level when she graduates from High School.
Pretty dim prospects. The advice he gave was to take her to our pediatrician for medication to treat the ADHD. Well, two Pediatricians, a Family Medicine Doctor, and a Naturopath all concurred: there was no drug that would “fix” our daughter. At this point, my girl had major “test fatigue,” and we were both exhausted. I felt like I needed to take a breath and gain some perspective. So, we left school. This was a terrifying step! What was our life going to look like without school? How could I possibly teach every school subject at home? Would my daughter have any friends if we were not connected to school? How would I know if I was doing everything right? I felt like everyone was watching: the State, my friends, my family, our doctors, and all my child’s past and future teachers. Yet, at the same time, I felt very alone. After a very brief and disappointing experience with Connections Academy, we decided online homeschooling was not the answer. We were going to have to privately homeschool, and that meant… we were on our own. It was a revelation when it finally hit me that no one was watching. As frightening as it was to be solely responsible for my child’s education, it was also thrilling. I was almost giddy. I could teach her in any way that worked for us. The only issue was, I didn’t know what worked. My child had a very real learning disability, which made reading and writing almost impossible. She was in Sixth Grade and could barely read, write, or do basic math. The so-called experts had all failed. I had to find a different approach. A friend, knowing how much she loves poetry, suggested we start with reading some. After all, poems are short and easy to digest. I bought a collection of poetry from a thrift store and spent a few nights cutting out every poem I thought my daughter would like. I put the stack of cut-out poetry in a wooden box and presented them with a new drawing pad. I asked her to pick a poem out of the box and glue it onto a page in her drawing pad. The idea was, we would read the poem together then write a response to it on the other side of the page. The head-scratching started, and I could see I was on the wrong path. So, instead, we sat in front of the fireplace, read the poem out loud together, and then my daughter drew her response to the text in pastel crayons. Something extraordinary began to happen. I could see the poem coming to life in her drawing. She truly captured the essence of it. This was how she learned and how she expresses what she’s learned. It was beautiful and had nothing to do with how the school system is set up. This was our first day of true homeschooling and it has all blossomed from there. After much trial and error, and a lot of research, I found our homeschool rhythm. We have a weekly routine that supports building academic skills and ties history, science, and literature together in an interdisciplinary style that is customized specifically to my child’s interests. We also hired a wonderful tutor that specializes in teaching Math to children with learning disabilities. My daughter is 15 now, and she is flourishing. She has the freedom to devote time to her amazing art, she has excelled in her 4-H club, and has met so many cherished friends through homeschooling and unschooling groups. Occasionally, I catch her scratching her head when I try to “school something up too much,” but overall, she is a happy and healthy kid. Through this experience, I have received an unexpected gift. My goal was to get my kid to school so that I could focus back on my career. Well, things didn’t quite work out the way I had planned. Dedicating most of my time to homeschooling shifted my skills from professional writing and editing in the education world to curriculum planning in the very small world of my home. Until I met a new homeschooling mom who was introduced to me by a mutual friend. She had a daughter who was two years younger than my child and was experiencing extreme school anxiety. She asked for help, and I began sharing my experience with her as a coach. I helped her plan her homeschooling year, found her resources, advised her on grade-appropriate material, and developed a daily structure for her that really fit their family’s needs. More and more, I met other homeschooling parents of children who just didn’t fit in that traditional school box. My role as a coach grew from there, and it is an absolute honor to share my love of learning with every family I meet. |