Can You Trust Me and My Unschooling Stories?

Can you trust what I say? What if I am making things up, putting an unrealistic positive spin on my stories, implying I’m perfect and so is my family? What if I’m not a reliable voice for unschooling? Could I be falsely portraying this way of life?

A reader asked me a question about socialising with families who have parenting ideas different from ours. What did I do when the other parents tried to impose their expectations on my kids whenever we got together?

I replied, writing something about making compromises. If we wanted to belong to a group, we had to try to fit in. Life is full of situations where we must get along with people with different ideas and outlooks on life.

I was happy with my reply until the next day, when I remembered how I’d tried to change my first child so we’d be accepted into a group we regularly attended. I wouldn’t listen to my daughter or her needs. I just insisted she dress and conform her activities to the expected group standard, not only while we were with others but also at home. Because you never know when someone will knock on the door and see what we’re doing.

Eventually, after crushing my child under my desire to please people from outside our family, I came to my senses. Thereafter, my family acted as a team when attending group events, putting our differences with others to one side, finding connections, and enjoying their company. But at home, we were totally ourselves. Anyone visiting might have seen a huge Barbie doll game in progress, a child reading an unapproved book, or a girl kicking a ball just like a boy.

People often ask me, “What did you do when your kids were younger? How did you handle this or that, or solve this problem?”

What did we do? Looking back, I sometimes can’t remember all the details about how we got here. Certain memories are as clear as crystal, and others are muddled, like a stirred-up muddy puddle. How did we cope with particular difficult situations? Maybe I should have written everything down just in case, years later, someone asked me questions.

To a certain extent, I did do that. Blogging preserved many situations that we faced as my kids were growing up. How did we handle the chores issue? What did I do on a difficult day when life fell apart? How did I feel when a child was about to leave home? I wrote about these situations as they happened. These stories are moments frozen in time. Unless I deliberately edit these posts, changing the words, you can be sure that that’s how they happened. That was how I was feeling at the time. Of course, I could have omitted to tell certain parts of each story by not writing about them in the first place.

There is no doubt that our unschooling story is incomplete. I can’t write about everything, especially now that all my kids are adults. I need to protect their privacy, so it’s impossible to be completely open. But I think we’ve done a good job sharing our lives as honestly as possible.

Perhaps I don’t want to remember some of the details. Were there bad bits of our lives that I push to the back of my mind? Maybe I’m making my stories up as I write them, wanting to give you a perfect picture of unschooling and our family.

It’s just as well that I recorded my kids’ words, so you don’t have to rely on mine. My children spoke for themselves. Often, I asked them for their opinions while pondering ideas. “I’m writing a blog post. What do you think?” Or I’d say, “Can I interview you in a video? I’d like to hear your thoughts.”

Here are a few examples.

I asked Sophie if it’s okay for parents to be friends with their kids. Imogen shared her thoughts about forcing kids to learn things that seem irrelevant to them. Gemma-Rose assured me kids can learn spelling and maths by themselves. All my kids shared their opinions about discipline, rules, freedom, and learning about right and wrong. They were qualified to talk. They were speaking from a position of experience.

Of course, my kids might look back on their childhoods and want to see things differently. “That’s not how it happened, Mum!” They might have forgotten some aspects of their growing-up years, just like me. But my children’s words and stories are still here, a record of that time.

I sometimes wonder if some readers want me to be perfect and have all the answers. Maybe some people want to believe that if they follow my example, all will be well. But that would be too easy. Although we might have much in common, we still have our differences. We are unique people with unique families. We can share ideas that we find helpful, encourage each other through life’s difficulties, and rejoice on those wonderful days we wish would last forever when everything falls magically into place. But there is still so much we need to work out by ourselves, things that we can only learn by muddling through difficult situations and days.

I don’t have any trouble remembering the many difficult days we experienced, when I muddled along, trying to do my best but often failing. I want to forget how I shouted when a jam jar hit the floor, and how I followed my kids around the house, picking up their toys, trying to confine their mess, just in case someone unexpectedly knocked on the door. Those days are firmly engraved in my memory because they are the days when I learnt the most. I learnt about forgiveness and being forgiven. I discovered what is most important.

I learnt about love.

If asked to offer just one unschooling suggestion, I’d say, “Choose love.” Let love guide every parenting decision.

Love kids as they are. Don’t try to change them into the people we think they should be. They are already fearfully and wonderfully made.

Love kids well by guiding, not forcing them, so they have the skills to get along with other people and find their place in the world.

I guess that’s the answer to the question I explored at the start of this post.

So I urge you to choose love.

But can you trust me? Why should you listen to me? My family isn’t living a fairytale life. We’ve faced difficulties. We still do. I’m not a perfect mother. Perhaps I’m not qualified to offer an opinion?

Or is love not an opinion but something we unarguably should all strive to do well? Is it the foundation of life? Is it the reason we’re here?

Love through the good days and bad ones. Forgive and offer forgiveness. Rejoice and show compassion for one another. Encourage each other by the power of love to become the people God created us to be.

We should let love guide us and just do our best. It doesn’t matter if we don’t find the perfect answers. Our kids will be okay.

I’m happy to answer questions. My responses won’t be perfect, but sometimes chatting with someone and mulling over ideas is enough.

The comments section is the best place to contact me because I don’t always have time to answer private messages – I don’t mind anonymous comments to protect your privacy – and other readers might benefit from our conversations if they’re visible to everyone.