Caveat Emptor
Let's cut back on the noise
If you read here regularly you may have noticed that we’ve been fairly quiet over the past few months. Both Laura E. Wolfe and I believe that it’s important to step back from fairyland sometimes and re-orient ourselves in the real world, and Great Lent was a good opportunity for us to do just that.
As I’ve made my way back into the substack space over the past couple weeks, I’ve noticed something interesting. Nothing new really. In fact, it’s something that we all know, even if not consciously, but which is all to easy to forget once we’ve adjusted: the internet is a noisy place! Even if we only talk about Substack, it’s easy to see it — essays and notes and conversations flood the digital space, vying for our attention, screaming, “Look at me! Read me! Notice me!”
I’ll be the first to say that there is much good writing here that deserves attention, but we all know there is just as much, if not more, that simply does not. Writers churn out endless content, establishing themselves as experts by the sheer volume of their opinionated pontificating — the more a name pops up, the more recognizable, and therefore the more trusted, said name becomes. This is how marketing works: establish a presence, present your product, stay visible, sell your stuff, whether in the form of physical goods or ideas.
This is just as true in the homeschooling world as it is generally. Why? Because before one can even establish a presence in order to sell a product, one must identify a need, and the homeschooling world has needs galore. The needs are quite genuine, and certainly it’s not wrong for those who can help to try and offer ways to meet those needs.
But there are dangers that attend the relentless marketing ethos of the online world in that it is a world entirely mediated through our glowing, colorful screens, which exist to showcase and display, in the most attractive way possible, products over persons and the illusion of connection over actual relationship.
So when we homeschoolers go to the internet with our questions, our problems, and our genuine needs, it behooves us to be aware of what we’re really encountering. It’s so tempting to think that the magic bullet that will solve our problems can be found by following the loudest most popular gurus or buying the most well-known curriculum or joining the right online “community”.
Things would be so much easier if there were a Right Answer to all the questions.
But we know better than that. Relationships - whether with people or ideas or the world around us - are not predicated on right answers and perfect products. They are not developed through systems and maintained by checking boxes. Real relationships are messy, demanding, time-consuming, joyful, colorful, expansive, wacky, fun, exciting, not-to-be-contained, and certainly not one-size-fits-all.
So when someone says, “XYZ math curriculum is the best one out there— highly recommend if you want your kids to excel in math!” and we start to hyperventilate because we’re using generic ABC math curriculum (which, incidentally, has worked quite well for our children because it’s not the curriculum itself that determines the growth and learning anyway), let’s not forget that we can absolutely cultivate relationships with our children, and help them cultivate their own relationship with mathematics, without any “official” math curriculum at all!
Likewise, when we read that we must follow a particular educational philosophy, as espoused by a particular author, or else we will not truly be educating our children in such a way as to cultivate wisdom and virtue, let’s not forget that wisdom and virtue are not the exclusive domain of any one type of philosophy or educational system.
Or when we notice all the perks and bells and whistles being offered only to paid members of popular communities, let’s not forget that true friendship and guidance do not require payment.
Will a good curriculum help? Absolutely! Especially if we’re still unsure of our own capacity to teach well.
Is educational philosophy important? Absolutely! Especially if we want to be thoughtful and intentional in educating our children and ourselves.
Does community make a difference? Absolutely! Especially when we have the opportunity to connect with those who have more experience than we do and who can thoughtfully guide us over a road they’ve already traveled.
But let’s not get carried away by all the noise and run off after every shiny new repackaging of the timeless wisdom that can only be found through loving God and neighbor above all else. Instead, let us keep the noise at bay as much as possible and keep our focus, our attention, on the little ones in our charge. Let us learn to know them as well as we can so we can help them cultivate their own relationships in the way that only we are capable of doing, as their parents who know them best.