“I’ve never even spoken to half of these kids in my life,” my daughter exclaimed as she scrolled through a barrage of messages around 2:30 PM, right as school was letting out. “Where are you? Why aren’t you in class?”
During a rare moment of mother-daughter bonding, we speculated about the wild rumors that might spread:
- She’s been sent away to serve her time, like some old-school punishment.
- She’s pregnant and will be shipped off to the countryside until the baby arrives, possibly to be given up to a couple from afar. Or maybe she’ll land a role on a reality show about teen moms.
- Perhaps her parents discovered her in a not-so-great situation, and she’s now in rehab somewhere cozy, like a cabin beside a Joshua tree.
But no, the truth was far less scandalous. She was simply enjoying her time at the local college library.
In hindsight, if you had told me I would be home-schooling my child, I would have laughed and said, “Are you kidding? I don’t have time for that!” Yet, here I am. I’m not exactly home-schooling in the traditional sense, either. My daughter is taking her sophomore year online. Call it home schooling, customized education, or whatever you like — she’s learning from the comfort of her own little personal classroom made up of screens and circuits. Between teaching at our community college, I find myself supervising her virtual classroom and, to my surprise, I’m all in. I feel like I’ve set the stage for a beautiful transformation in my daughter, who had been feeling disheartened.
After my classes, I approach her at a small round table in the library. She’s furiously typing away, and I swear I can see sparks flying. She’s glowing. This is where she belongs. Her vibe has shifted to something bright and sunny, radiating empowerment from across the room.
I wait for her to take a break before we can leave, and the enthusiasm is electric. I have to suppress the urge to fist-pump the air and shout, “Yes!” This child is incredible — and happy! I manage to hold back my overzealous excitement, avoiding an embarrassing exit through the library’s metal detectors.
By 1:30, she had completed all her work, focused and undistracted. There were no interruptions or snide comments from classmates. She was comfortable, not crammed into a hard plastic seat. She didn’t have to switch gears every 49 minutes between unrelated topics. She found her groove and ran with it. Academic creativity was flowing like a river — woohoo!
No drama. No unnecessary social anxieties. She wasn’t worried about her outfit, her hair, or who she would or wouldn’t converse with. There were no crowded hallways, no need to dodge bullies, and no frantic dashes between classes. She was just living and learning, free from the confines of traditional schooling. Stress-free. I could see it in every fiber of her being.
Gone was the hefty burden of outdated textbooks, and in its place was a lightness that made her smile. She had a healthy lunch and ample time to enjoy it, without the stress of fitting in at the lunch table.
She dressed up for her day, not lounging in pajamas. She got up early, showered, and even interacted with real people (take that, home-schooling stereotypes).
Let me tell you what else I witnessed.
- She smiled.
- She was calm.
- Not once did I see her eyes twitch all day. Her stomach was quiet, devoid of the usual turmoil. She was visibly relaxed, basking in positivity.
My daughter discovered where the light was, and she asked me to let her pursue it. So, I said, “Yes.” I embraced this path of online schooling.
Some might argue she needs to toughen up and learn to deal with the “high school nonsense.” I beg to differ. She’s faced it all before, and it was weighing her down. When adults find themselves in toxic environments, we have the freedom to walk away. Kids, however, often lack that power. That sense of helplessness can lead to serious consequences.
I believe I’m empowering her. I want her to trust her instincts and listen to that inner voice, so when she’s older, she knows how to navigate out of darkness and into the light.
While this educational journey is a sacrifice, it’s also a privilege, and I’m incredibly grateful for the opportunity. It’s a change that could redefine our lives.
In the end, my child is amazing, and her old school misses her, but for now, she just needs to follow her heart.