Oftentimes stress manifests from internal pressures, the pressure we place on ourselves to achieve things exactly as we believe they should be; a spotless house when we invite guests into our home (you know, when we are allowed to do so), an extremely competent child when it comes to home-schooling – Wait, did I say ‘home-schooling’?

Due to COVID-19 restrictions, Victoria was one of the first states to take to ‘online learning;’ hence the terminology used by schools, teachers, politicians. Initially, the term ‘online learning’ felt like a spin-off from the actual reality – just as Scomo insists on reporters not using the ‘L’ word, the mere utterance of the word ‘Lockdown’ akin to saying ‘Voldemort’ in a Harry Potter film; utterly unthinkable.

Though it feels like a lockdown (especially bunkered down with 3 kids), looks like a lockdown (bare streets, quiet roads), sounds like a lockdown (excepting, of course, the few reasons we’re permitted to venture out); it’s definitely not a lockdown – Did I say ‘lockdown,’ I meant ‘that word’ as Scomo refers to it.

The term ‘online-learning’ feels equally tenuous. Our children are learning from home, accessing resources from home, establishing their workspace at home; BUT, this is not home-schooling. 

Unconvinced, I used the term ‘home-schooling’ during a Zoom chat with friends. Though learning from home seemed inevitable, this was before any official announcement was made, when most of us were still drifting somewhere between panic and denial.

‘I’m just trying to get my head around whether or not I’ll be home-schooling,’ I said, when asked how I was going. 

‘It’s not home-schooling,’ my friend corrected me, one of those extremely competent secondary school teachers who had been working tirelessly to prepare for the likely event of learning from home.

‘Right…’ I replied.

Having never made the decision to take a child out of main-stream education for the purpose of learning at home, and despite, being a teacher myself – I should have known better, given that I, personally, was not in the throes of designing curriculum or setting up online classrooms for my child – still, I was convinced that what we were about to embark could only be described as ‘home-schooling.’ But here’s why this is dangerous thinking.

I said at the beginning of this piece that a key driver of stress comes from our own set of unrealistic expectations. In the case of our children, sometimes our own undoing comes from the failure to recognise that, despite, perhaps, displaying similar character traits or physical attributes to us, they are, in fact, separate, living, breathing individuals who are working to make their own individual mark on the world.

Hovering over my grade-oner, intently watching videos posted by his teachers, pressing all the buttons on his device, later pointing out all of his spelling errors – while the other two young ones ran around the dining table squealing, yelling, crying – I was clearly was far too involved in the whole affair.

A common frustration among parents is the difficulty in getting children to listen. ‘If I have to tell you one more time…!’ we cry out of sheer frustration. But sometimes, especially when it comes to our own children, parents are the ones who need to be told.

At the end of a well-considered, encouraging message from our School Principal was the final statement, intended as a lingering thought to register with parents, ‘…you are not HOMESCHOOLING your children…you are not responsible for ‘delivering’ our curriculum!’ – A friendly communication, albeit with the capitalisation and exclamation mark deemed necessary.

Then came another reminder from my son, in between mother and son both apologising for expressing our frustrations at one another; ‘I can do this, Mum!’ my school-boy insisted as I begrudgingly released my hold over his device.

And then finally, came the diplomatic words from my son’s teacher said over video conference, I don’t remember the exact wording, only that they were the words I needed. I believe it was something about the necessity of assessing an authentic piece of work – You mean, you’re not assessing me?!

With my three-year-old hammering his half-empty yoghurt tub on the back door, imprinting yoghurt stamps along the glass, my one-year old bawling at my feet every time I attempted to put her down; finally, the message began to sink in. With my school-boy set up by the window (where I could still observe him from afar), ready to write his narrative, I gathered the two little ones as if conducting a necessary evacuation (which, in a way, it was) and set outside to play on the swings. It was there, I achieved the trifecta I was after; two, playful happy children, one focused, very mature little school-boy writing freely at his designated workspace.

Though it came as an epiphany to me; out of all the stakeholders invested in my child’s education, it turns out the only one who thought term 2 was to be conducted as ‘home-schooling’ was me.

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Writer, lover of language, explorer of genre. Mother of 3!

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