Happy Emergency Nurses Day!

We like to celebrate holidays here at Our Homeschool Mystery so today we are celebrating Emergency Nurses Day! Cheers to all the great Emergency Nurses out there! I feel so lucky to be one of them! Every working day is a new and different adventure with people from all walks of life... patients with delayed care, intoxicants, language, cultural, and educational barriers... we see everybody!

We see patients BEFORE a diagnosis is made, and we are the ones that deal with patients and families in their time of anxiety from the "not knowing."

We shift gears on cue... never knowing what is going to walk through the doors next!

We have FUN! We play charades in triage when the patient does not know what meds he takes... "Little blue pill... sounds like... starts with... 2 syllables... rhymes with..."

We're crafty... ever see our "stinky feet" combat creations?

We also love patient makeovers... "We had to cut all your clothes off of you, but we're sending you home in these donated clothes... the hot pink biker shorts are a new look for you, sir."

We're resourceful... "Oh looky, I found the one last vein for an IV that you DIDN'T already use for your heroin!"

We're the cheerleaders... "You're a natural with those crutches -- it's like you've had a broken leg your whole life!"

I have to think that many of these emergency nursing skills are a lot like being a homeschooling mom... adaptable, strong, fun, crafty, resourceful, and encouraging. But most of all, we just CARE about our patients, much like we CARE about our kids, and that's why we do it, and it all seems easy for that reason.  :)

How I Was Taught to Ski by Beaverman

By now I think I may have already mentioned this to anyone actually reading this blog, but last week I was taught to cross country ski by a beaver. Or a man. Or a Beaverman. I'm not sure.

It was an unexpected twist to the snow adventure that my son and I took last week. It all started after my "unsocialized" homeschooled son worked at the church rummage sale all day without his parents around: one was working and the other one was peddling Girl Scout cookies. My son was picked up on the front porch at 5:00AM, and he did not return home until 3:00PM that afternoon so he had plenty of time to check out the merchandise. He was assigned as a "floater" at the sale, relieving the other youth for their breaks, but found the "Sporting Goods and Hardware" section to be in particular need of help. Apparently, he spotted a snowboard being sold for the whopping price of $5. Having been taught from an early age never to pass up a bargain, he bought the snowboard, brought the thing home, and for every day afterwards was snowboarding in the living room. This is what happens when you are brought up as a desert rat. This is also what happens after Shaun White sweeps the Winter Olympics just weeks before the snowboard is spotted, and you are a homeschooled kid who has just spent the last month using the Olympics as the basis for geography, history, and science lessons. (I'm adding another link here for a good science site.) This is the second time we have used the Olympics in our homeschooling adventure; the first time was the 2008 Beijing Olympics. I was recently "organizing" homeschool stuff (ha ha, the task that never ends) and came across the 50+ page "Educational Kit" that I printed off during the Beijing Olympics (x 2 kids = 1 printer cartridge), and I'm just so thankful that we didn't get knee-deep in the Chinese "fuwa" mascots again because that was a lot of ink! Remember them? They looked like little Pokemon, but they were a fish, a flame, a panda, a bird, and an antelope. All color ink, by the way. So this year's Olympic studies concentrated in the online.

Anyway, time had come to take the kid to the snow so we decided to try cross-country skiing, but we brought the snowboard along. The thinking here was that if we got really good at cross-country, then we could take on the half-pipe later in the day. We are nothing if not optimists. The other thing at work here was the fact that the one and only time I went skiing, when I was just about the same age as my son, I ended up riding the ski lift downhill after a little mishap where I failed to get off at the top. I'm still recovering from the humiliation of arriving alone back at the embarkation spot with my skiing companion laughing his way down the hill. I will try downhill skiing again when I get good enough to ski to the top.

So we arrived at the Flagstaff Nordic Center all set for a day of "easy" cross-country skiing, and I encountered yet another skiing obstacle: I couldn't get the ski on. There were seven of us enrolled in the beginning class, and they all got their skis on prior to the instructor's arrival at the meeting spot. So when the instructor walked out there, all six of them were there (my own son had already disowned me), but I was about 20 feet away at the ski put-on place frantically trying to shove right boot into right ski to no avail. Here's where I first encountered Beaverman. I had heard stories about the infamous half-man, half-beaver Scottish hobo, but I hardly expected to find him in the Coconino National Forest teaching ski lessons (although stranger things have happened to me.) I'm sure it was him. When I master adding photos to the blog, I will post a picture of him, but he was most certainly my cross-country ski instructor, taking time out of his busy day munching wood to get me skiing. Thankfully, Beaverman also got my ski on.

But my troubles did not stop there. As it turns out, Beaverman quickly identified that I had not yet mastered walking. So while my six other classmates were already far ahead, Beaverman removed my skis, and instructed me to "walk around for awhile" until I got the feel of it. I have a long history of sitting in the back of the class, never asking questions, figuring stuff out for myself, etc. so I was really happy to have all this extra attention! It was so great to have come all this way to walk around in the snow! I think Beaverman sensed there was some hostility because after my walking demonstration he said, "Here, come give me a hug, you're doing great! What do you do for a living?" I said, "I'm an emergency nurse." To which he said, "Oh, well there are no lives to save here today, we're just having a good time." Hmph.

Things did get better, and as soon as I got my skis back on, I pretty much ditched Beaverman. At the end of the class, my son and I did a loop trail, on skis, and it was really fun. So I'm recommending cross-country skiing. Thumbs up. We also stopped at Montezuma Castle, and we're still pondering how it is that Montezuma Castle and Notre Dame Cathedral were built the same year. It's mind boggling. Here are some photos to compare:

The Scarlet Letter "H"

I still find it very difficult to tell people that I homeschool my kids, and I've been doing it for three years. I've been told that it gets easier, but I haven't noticed that yet. You'd think that with estimates being close to two million homeschooled kids in the United States, people would have a better acceptance with the idea of homeschooling, but I think homeschoolers are still hotly prejudged.

One of the benefits of homeschooling is that we can do "school" whenever we want, and we are able to make use of the less-crazy hours of the day to schedule dentist and doctor appointments, go shopping, and have fun. Unfortunately, it's during these "school hours" that we encounter the most ridiculous questions. They usually start with, "Is school out early today?" and end with, "But how do you know if they're learning anything?" when we attempt to explain our lives.

I've thought of different ways of handling these questions such as: handing the questioner a pre-printed fact sheet, answering my new response: "See my blog," or just deflecting altogether: "We're happily living the lives of morons." Better yet, maybe we should just go out in public with the big scarlet letter "H" for "homeschooling" around our necks so everyone knows our crime.

My dental hygienist is a personal favorite "questioner." I've gone to the same hygienist for over ten years. Being the dental snob that I am, I actually request her when I make appointments, and she keeps notes on what equipment to use on me. If she ever moved or retired, my teeth would probably fall out of my head. Plus, I like her. However, I think it's because I only see her every six months, and where I always remember every conversation I've had with someone, she can never remember that I homeschool my kids. We usually get started slowly. It usually goes a little something like this:

"How's work?" (She knows this because it says I'm a nurse on my chart.)
"Busy, everybody decided to get drunk and go to the ER over the weekend."
"Oh, do you only work weekends?"
"And Mondays, some Tuesdays."
"Oh, so what do you do the rest of the week?"
"I homeschool my children."
(She backs away from the teeth scraping with a puzzled look.)
"But how do they get their socialization?"
(This is fun to give a one-liner to when your mouth is full of sharp objects.)
"Well, they've done scouts, ballet, Irish dance, hula dance, tap dance, church, choir, youth group, chess club, soccer, baseball, basketball, golf, karate, archery, science classes, art classes, drama classes, music lessons, play in a band, gone away to camp numerous times, and go to a homeschool enrichment program that is essentially a 'school' 2 days per week."
"But aren't they missing something?"
(Here's where I give the puzzled look. Seriously? Am I really being asked this?)
"Like what?"
"Like tests, how do you know how they're doing?"
(Wait a second, I guess she gave up on socialization.)
"I let my kids take the AIMS (Arizona Instrument to Measure Standards) test every year, and they always pass despite the fact that I have not taught from the test the whole year as the schools do."
"But how will they get into college?"
"Colleges love homeschoolers because they are self-starters. There are also community colleges, online universities, ACT tests, and SAT tests that can get them where they want to go."
"I just can't imagine doing that."

I can't tell you how many conversations I've had that have gone just like this!!! And then I'll have the same conversation with the same people again! Homeschooling is still an idea that people just consider "weird" despite whatever evidence there is to the contrary. Compounding the problem is that many homeschoolers remain quiet about their practices for fear of losing their right to homeschool. If you're interested in seeing how this right has been threatened, there are many cases documented on http://www.hslda.org.

The Do-It-Yourself Education

I'm always amazed at the things people are willing to take on by themselves. For example: changing your own oil on your car. Why do people do this themselves? I can drive to my local oil change place and be out in about 15 minutes for less than $25. Doing this at home would require driving to the auto parts supply store (and the gas cost to get there), looking up the right parts in the book, purchasing the parts and the oil, driving home, getting the appropriate buckets for draining the oil, jacking the car up to do the draining, having the right tools on hand to remove the filter, researching how this particular filter is removed, doing the work, and then comes the big pickle: ridding yourself of the dirty oil. Yet I know people who do this procedure without question. Another favorite: remodeling your own house. I know scads of people without employment in the construction field that take on enormous home repair jobs while maintaining employment in another field. This is accepted practice. We have mega-stores like The Home Depot and Lowe's dedicated to people's desire to "do-it-yourself." Yet my desire to educate my own children while maintaining employment as a registered nurse does not warrant this level of acceptance. It's a two-part problem for me where the general public questions my do-it-yourself school, and the homeschooling community questions my working and homeschooling together.

I want to address whether or not parents have the ability to homeschool their own children. Since this is a blog, as opposed to to a research study, I will draw from my own life experiences. One of the first jobs I had in college was at the campus tutoring center. I was recommended as a tutor by my algebra teacher because I had done well in that class. When I went to the interview with the director of the tutoring center, she asked me what other classes I could tutor. Hmmm . . . I didn't really feel I was qualified to tutor anything! I ended up tutoring College Algebra and every math below that), English, ESL, German, and Psychology -- quite a cross-section! Was I an expert in all those disciplines? No. Yet I began to have people requesting me as a tutor. Later on, I branched out and took a job with a private tutoring agency that paid me more money. The clients at this agency were kids ages kindergarten through 12th grade at many different schools in San Francisco and San Mateo counties. Could I have possibly known what was going on with all those different kids in all those classes? No way! But I was busy every afternoon from 4:00-6:00PM when every parent wants a tutor. I did so well with this agency that I finally had enough clients on my own, and I was able to branch out and make some serious money. No one ever questioned my credentials with tutoring all these kids. My success was purely because I listened to the kids, analyzed their problems, and made adjustments so that they began to do better after I started working with them. Yet, homeschooling parents are put through the wringer about whether or not they possess the right credentials to teach their own kids that they know so well.

In my circle of friends, I know almost as many teachers as I do nurses. Teachers, and of course there are exceptions, can be the worst critics of homeschooling parents. I once had a teacher say to me, "I resent the fact that parents think they can do the job that I spent five years in college learning to do." As a nurse I cannot imagine saying to a patient, "You gave yourself your own pill at home? Do you know how much pharmacology I had to take in college to learn how to give you that pill? You're not qualified!" Really, do we have to be experts to figure out most things in life? When I precept new nurses at the hospital, the very first thing we do together is go to the pyxis (the computerized lockbox for drugs) and click on a program called Lexi-comp that will show you everything you need to know about all kinds of drugs: side effects, interactions, how long to infuse an IV drip, what to mix it with, etc. I use this program on a daily basis! Sure, we may have learned it, but we forget stuff and "accepted practice" changes. "Use your resources" -- that's what I tell my nurses and that's what I tell my kids. If a parent is motivated enough to remove his/her child from school, the likelihood is probably high that said parent is motivated enough to educate that child. Don't we learn things based on how meaningful they are to us?

I have to draw on my own life again because the only "D" I ever remember earning in school was my AP United States History class. I had just moved to Germany and was touring castles and cathedrals so why was everyone so surprised that I wasn't interested in writing in-depth papers about the Sugar and Stamp Acts? I'm not suggesting that as American citizens we should forgo learning American history, but I was more motivated to learn European history while in Europe. As a side note, that grade was weighted and history still remains one of my favorite subjects, but I think this is a good example of how people learn things based on their desire -- whether that be a child's desire to learn or a parent's desire to learn how to homeschool. That same year of school, I was made to finish a fourth year of Spanish because why would I want to learn German when I was living in a country where . . . oh I don't know . . . everyone spoke German? How is it that teenagers inevitably end up passing drivers' ed when the rest of their classes may be suffering? Could it be that they have a burning desire to drive?

Which also brings me to the question: how do adults learn things when they are no longer in school? Does the machine shut down? Don't people read the newspaper, watch the news, or research things in Wikipedia? Learning is lifelong. We put far too much sanctity in the walls of the schoolhouse.

Pistol Packin' Mama

The big day came where we downloaded the "Affidavit of Intent to Home School" form, signed our promise that we would "provide at least the subjects of reading, grammar, mathematics, social studies, and science," got the form notarized, and all piled into the car to file the form at the county courthouse. When we got there, all four of us went in with the magic form. We handed the form over to the woman expecting . . . ? "Are you sure about this?" "We need to take your photos for the FBI." "Here's a list of the testing schedule so we can check if you're doing your job." "You're the worst parents ever." We heard none of that. The lady merely said, "Thanks." No balloons dropped from the ceiling. No judge shook our hand. No family photo was taken.

Now what? My first concern was that we get out and meet some other homeschoolers so my kids wouldn't feel like they were the only ones being homeschooled. After all, my biggest reservation about homeschooling was the worry that my children would not be exposed to diversity. I remember when Amy Carter attended public school during the Carter presidency, and that is the first recollection I have of the importance of mixing socioeconomic classes. Around that time, I began to take note of the segregation within my own southern California community. We had a hispanic housekeeper that we used to drive home at the end of her day of working for us. They were a large family with four or five kids and various other family members all living in a one-bedroom rented mobile home across the street from the railroad tracks in our pricey beach community. We would drive up to find her family's laundry drying on the clothesline after her day of doing our family's laundry. This seemed like injustice to me. My mother did not have a job outside the home, it just seemed like we had a housekeeper because that is what one did. My mother would tell me, "Elena is happy to have the job with us because she just wants to send money home to Mexico." So then I wanted to know what was going on in Mexico! I was pretty sure Elena's family did not have a lot to eat because they were relieving us of our male baby goats left and right. About this time, I became the "president" of our 4-H goat group (hold the applause) so I was learning a lot about dairy goats, and I knew that the females were coveted for the milk and there wasn't a lot of use for the males other than breeding (Elena lived in a trailer without a yard) or meat. I asked why we didn't take Juan the gardener home after his day with us, but that was because Juan didn't have a home. He lived in a cardboard box in a canyon near our house. My friends and I used to play in the canyon during the day, and we saw how Juan lived. So when people ask me, "Why don't you just move to a nicer neighborhood with better schools?" I really don't want to live in the high house on the hill anymore.

So how was I going to expose my kids to different people, such as they would get at school, when most days it was the three of us genetically-linked "diverse" people hanging out together. We started going to homeschool support groups, park days, museum days, art classes, field trips, music classes, etc. Early on, we were probably doing too much as we were gone almost every day for this or that activity for homeschoolers. One of the biggest surprises to homeschooling has been the oddball people we have met since we left the school system. There's the kid who has a seizure disorder so his mom has to stay with him all the time so she figured she'd just start homeschooling him. We've met several dyslexic kids -- totally smart kids, but worksheets and in-class board work were completely wasted time for them. We know kids that were adopted from different countries that are being homeschooled because their ages and their ability level (aka "grade" level) do not match. Also, many kids that, for whatever reason, are either way above or way below grade level; the school system tends to just not know what to do with these kids. We have also learned about different religions because there are lots of people that homeschool so they can infuse religion as part of what their kids learn. I've met parents that are anti-vaccination, anti-medicine, and anti-establishment. My favorite mom: the "pistol packin' mama," always showed up to homeschool park days with a baby in a sling and a gun on her hip. I have lived one block from the "projects" in downtown San Francisco, have frequently walked London parks in the dark of night when I lived there, have traveled through Checkpoint Charlie in East Berlin when that was still in existence, and currently work as a an ER nurse which is consistently rated as one of the top professions for workplace violence. At my job, at any time, we have armed hospital security, armed Sheriff's officers, armed Department of Corrections officers, prisoners, AND gang members, but somehow a group of homeschooling children and moms in a suburban park appeared to be a danger to her. Gotta love homeschoolers!