We went to a bar mitzvah on Saturday, (which was lovely) and I thought again about how religious school is really the only activity my kids have done on a regular basis where they’re so age segregated. Most of the classes and workshops they’ve taken (especially Noah who has taken away more than Madison being seven years older) are more loosely grouped by age (for kids, say, 7 to 10) or are grouped by ability. In homeschooling, kids tend to play across age groups a lot more.
I think this is great. I think it makes more sense for kids to be grouped by ability or general development because then it’s easier not to see someone as behind or as ahead. Everyone just is what they are. Noah has had friends who are way ahead in some things and way behind on other things and from what he tells me, they tend to see each other’s gifts and appreciate them while making way for their challenges. So he has one friend who is an amazingly skilled artist and craft person, who can glance at a shirt and design a pattern for it and create it from scratch, but who doesn’t read well. The kids all admire and acknowledge her fantastic creations and they help her with the games they play that might be harder for her. They don’t think of her as ahead or as behind; they think of her in terms of her abilities first and foremost. I hope that makes sense, what I’m saying here.
But that’s not the part I’m talking about. The part I’m talking about is that I can’t make comparisons between my kids and their same-aged peers because I don’t have a large group of same-aged peers to compare them, too. Which is a little weird. Nice, but weird. It’s only when I see them in religious school or in sports activities (where ages are more regimented) that I see them as part of a “grade.” Like Madison in kindergarten and Noah in seventh grade. In the sports, it’s not really an issue but I definitely notice the absence of understanding them this way when I see them at religious school.
Not that I can make comparisons then either because religious school isn’t much like school. I mean, I know that Noah does well on his tests and I guess I could find out how the other kids did on theirs (if I cared) but it still wouldn’t be a comparison because all the other kids are doing religious school on top of regular school and homework and extracurricular activities so if Noah is doing better than them, it might say more about his wide-open schedule. So I take his performance (and Madison’s performance) as a measure of this 2.5 hours every week that they have religious school and that’s it. It’s just so isolated.
Sometimes I wish I could compare them because I am still too caught up in arbitrary measures of “good” and “bad” and “better.” And then I’m glad that I can’t. Sometimes I would like to know if Madison is busier than her peers (I think she is) but really all I need to know is if Madison is successful in her own sphere and she is and that ought to be enough.
It’s hard to explain how much unschooling means unlatching yourself from prescribed expectations. For example, what if Madison is busier than her peers? What does this mean for her right now? If she were in school, I’m sure it would be an issue. She can keep herself still and focused and careful for 2.5 hours in religious school but I know if she were in school full-time that she’d be getting busted for chattering and wriggling and wanting to see what her neighbor is doing. And that would be a real issue and we would need to deal with it. But if you take her out of school, there is no issue. So even though I wonder if she’s busier than her peers, it also doesn’t matter. It only matters that her busyness doesn’t preclude her happy functioning here in her unschooling home.
Anyway, not being able to compare my kids to other kids but only to themselves and their own developmental timetable is a plus for me but I’ll admit that when we get their report cards* from religious school, I eat up the teacher comments.
* Noah was appalled that Madison got a report card. He said, “But it’s KINDERGARTEN!” He thought they should have a free year or two. And for the record, the report cards always say that my kids are bright and enthusiastic. Noah’s usually say that he’s funny and Madison’s said that she was very compassionate. They also both get kudos for class participation, which is no surprise with Madison but surprised us with Noah because for his first couple of years, he was a wallflower.

















