This is a guest post by Hannah Westbeld, a homeschooling mama of 3 who is active on Instagram as @myheartshomestead. She lives in Tennessee and her whole family loves using Oak Meadow curriculum, especially the math gnomes. Thanks, Hannah!
Sometimes I wish I could rewind time to bestow upon my earlier self the elusive gift of perspective. Having a healthy perspective is an incredibly powerful viewpoint that, once attained, can change our approach to almost every aspect of life. But in homeschooling particularly it is a tool unlike any other. It gives the parent, as the teacher, the ability to see and connect with their child’s unique learning abilities. It releases them from the constraints of mainstream educational standards and frees the child and the parent to learn together in a setting and at a pace that best suits their individual needs and interests, while allowing the process of education to unfold in a beautiful and natural way.
A few weeks ago, my oldest son asked if he could read to me from his current favorite book. We snuggled up, side by side on the couch, his head resting on my shoulder, as he read his favorite passages aloud, one by one. I listened intently to his words, my mind flashing to images of the times we had spent together just like that in years past. The earliest images were, of course, reading to him when his little fingers couldn’t yet turn the pages of his favorite board books. I saw him as a toddler pointing to his favorite images in picture books, slowly mastering the pronunciation of words. I saw us side by side on the couch when he began kindergarten, staring down at the pages of our first book of reading lessons. I saw the tears of frustration and sadness on his cheeks over the following two years when he simply couldn’t master the art of reading. I felt the anxiety I placed on my own shoulders as I questioned what I was doing wrong and wondered if I was qualified for this important role in his life.
But then I remembered how it felt as I allowed my own mind to change, grow, and adapt to his needs. I saw myself tucking away the lesson plans, gently wiping away his tears, and assuring him that I would read to him for as long as he needed. For the next several years I read to him and his younger siblings every chance I got. We lost ourselves in entire imaginative worlds, we discussed fairy tales, we read silly picture books. We read through novels. We stumbled across the power of phonograms and spent a few moments each day learning their sounds. And then one day he flawlessly read a street sign. Another day he read an entire paragraph of C.S. Lewis’ writing on his own. He began pulling familiar picture books from our bookshelves and reading them with an ease and excitement that stunned me. And then one day, not long ago, he read through his very first novel entirely on his own.
We’ve been on quite a journey together, he and I. Even though I look back wishing for better perspective when he first began Kindergarten, we were both given the gift of “the process” together. Together we learned what was best for him as an individual, and gifted each other one of life’s most beautiful things – perspective – and along with it the knowledge that learning is not defined by one moment or one grade level, but is, rather, a journey that occurs over the whole of our lifetime.