New beginnings, Old beliefs.

January 29, 2014 § Leave a comment

My eldest boy is beginning at a new school tomorrow.

After attending a Steiner school, and two separate stints of homeschooling, this is his first time at a ‘regular’ public school. As a parent, it is mine too.

As a homeschooling mum in Queensland, years ago, I remember observing many families where it seemed obvious to me that the fears, or bad experiences of the parent were part of the reason, sometimes a huge part of the reason to homeschool the child.

I’ve always aimed to be an ‘aware parent’, someone who is conscious of her own issues and beliefs and childhood wounds; conscious enough not to put them on to my own children.

Some of the realisations I had on the Bellingen trip had to do with just this issue. I felt like I was emerging from a five year cycle of being just a little bit in avoidance about some painful things that happened before Zara was born. Inadvertantly, along the way from then to now I saw I had shown my children some patterns of responding to hurts that would be best left behind.

On that trip my eyes were suddenly opened to all the ways I could be ‘putting things’ on my children. I vowed to clean up my act, emotionally, which is of course easier said than done. Daily journalling has been a big part, and I am happy to report that I can see a difference already in an ever so slightly happier and more peaceful household.

But back to school. Shopping for his uniform, shoes, and stationary today bought up lots of feelings for me. I noticed within myself a rather cynical and rebellious attitude toward ‘school’. Why should he wear a uniform? Think what else we could have spent that money on! I don’t care about homework, I don’t want to have to enforce him doing it Why are there so many school rules? It is like a dictatorship…. and on and on it went.

I suddenly realised I was reliving my school experience, and projecting it on to his potential experience. I was at school twenty years ago. Teachers shouted at us and made us feel small, because they could, because they were adults and we were ‘children’. I was bullied. I was alone a lot. It took until my final year to make real friends or feel at home there.

And I don’t want any of that for my son. Instead I want him to feel respected and accepted. I hope he finds friends quickly. I hope he enjoys it and the gifts I am sure await him.

I just need to get myself out of the way.


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