On homeschooling.

I'm contemplating homeschooling. I know. I must be crazy. Tim has proposed the idea for years - easy for him to say. We live in a great neighborhood with an excellent elementary school packed with teachers who truly love what they do and care about their students (with only a few exceptions, or so I'm told). I had no problems sending Anna off to kindergarten. Perhaps it had to do with my being pregnant and seriously needing the afternoon nap that was mine to claim once I dropped her off after lunch.
This year's different. With kindergarten under our belts, I can clearly see what she gained and I'm not terribly impressed. Sure, she made a few new friends. She learned some lessons about relationships, the hard way. She learned to adore her teacher - who was kind and patient with her in spite of her absolute trepidation at approaching adults and new situations. She became more competitive - in a less-than-humble way, declaring herself the "best reader in the class".
While no one can quantify the lessons obtained during a typical year in the public school system, I'm left to wonder: why have we all bought into a system that groups kids together according to age in classrooms exceeding 20 students to one adult? I have no doubt Anna's teacher did her best to accommodate the myriad of abilities and learning styles found in her classroom of 23 five-year-olds she could not possibly spend enough time to truly challenge each student in a way that is unique to him or her. Even taking into account the specialists that worked with individual students regularly. Even with the host of parents volunteering to assist with some of the more mundane tasks, giving Mrs. T. more time to spend one-on-one with the kids. And who can expect more than that? She did the best that she could, given the circumstances and I am grateful to her for her efforts.
Still it begs the question: why do I want to devote seven hours a day, yes, the best seven hours of my child's day for academic learning when she could accomplish the same (or more) in an hour at home? This is my main struggle. After seven hours at school, how much can I claim in which to ensure positive daily interactions with my oldest daughter? Sure, my younger kids at home will have fewer siblings to compete with, but at what cost?
I've decided on a wait-and-see approach, given the daunting thought of teaching homeschool off the cuff with 3 younger children still at home. Who can blame me? If all goes well, I can sweep the whole homeschooling idea under the rug. Heck, even if it does go well, I'm tantalized by the thought of having school for only a few hours a day, weekly field trips, incorporating values into the curriculum (heaven forbid they catch you talking about morals in the public school classroom), and teaming up with other moms who have much to offer me and my children in a lifelong education.
I know some people cringe at the thought of homeschooled kids. Who can deny the stereotypical socially-backwards college freshman whose first experience in a "real" school setting mimics a deer-in-headlights, of sorts. The flip side is also true - though perhaps less documented: the homeschooled child whose well-rounded education has produced an intelligent, well-adjusted, service-oriented, balanced individual. One of the coolest guys I met at BYU was homeschooled - he was all of the above and more.
One thing's for sure. I believe that loving parents are the best teachers of their own children. My experience in Joy School has also taught me that other, trusted adults have much to offer them as well. Each of us has different experiences and skills that render us capable of reaching certain children in a way that even their parents can't, at times. I am grateful for the schoolteachers whose education, skills, and genuine love for their profession touches lives. And yet, I can't help but be disenchanted by a system in which I must relinquish the majority of my child's day so that they can be educated by a stranger, albeit a kind, trained stranger.
Alas. First grade, here we come. Ready or not.