A Season for Everything
An homage to homeschooling
By Audrey Larson (January 2016)
By Audrey Larson (January 2016)
"There is a season for everything. There is a time to watch the ripples on Ripple Lake, to look for arrowheads, to study the rocks and lichens, a time to walk on sandy deserts. A wise man will know what game to play to-day, and play it. We must not be governed by rigid rules, as by the almanac, but let the season rule us. Nothing must be postponed. Take time by the forelock. Now or never! You must live in the present, launch yourself on every wave, find your eternity in each moment.”
—Henry David Thoreau, 24 April 1859, Journal XII
Thump. Thump. Like a pulsing heartbeat, my foot pushes off the ground steadily, faster and faster. I'm off on my scooter, the wind brushing my face. Colorful New England foliage lifts my spirits. This morning is too beautiful to be indoors.
I pass an elderly man raking leaves. "No school today?" he calls.
"Homeschooled," I reply, matter-of-factly, as I've answered curious strangers so many times before. But the truth? I don't school at home. My learning happens fluidly, not by a rigid timetable--wherever I am, whatever I do: traveling, nature walks, museums, zoo school, ballet class, wilderness survival training, MIT science workshops, volunteering, film editing, novel writing, circus arts, music concerts, and geocaching. My vast interests guide my courses—Medieval castles one year, Cold War espionage the next—Latin, Victorian life, antiques, government, and geometry. Without a morning bus to catch, I have time to read The Wall Street Journal over coffee and discuss the news with my parents. There is no separation between our "educational" discussions and everyday conversation. My parents gave me the reins, and I took off. I developed a fierce love of learning and became the author of my education. I've enjoyed online classes in constitutional law and theatre history, and attended community lectures on film theory and 1950s society. (I'm often the only attendee under age 40.) I gained life skills: banking, entrepreneurship, trip planning, and event organizing. I taught myself how to edit movies, format an acting résumé, and write a press release.
My mom says that, as homeschoolers, we get "sun" days instead of snow days. On especially beautiful days we might study history by the lake, go apple picking, or meet up with other homeschoolers at the park. Our annual "Not-Back-to-School" picnic took place at Walden Pond. Surrounded by a group of kindred spirits, I savored the beautiful September morning in Concord, MA. Later we'd wade in the pond, walk in Thoreau's woods, visit a replica of his cabin, and reread his wise words. Henry David Thoreau's writings touch upon what I value most: independence, freedom from conformity, and living deliberately. Homeschooling allowed me to live the seasons of my childhood—to not postpone the joys and lessons of life for the sake of school. I thank my parents for the gift of time to read hundreds of books, build forts, transform our basement into a general store, and create my own "Audrey Country"—complete with its own language. Those irreplaceable experiences cemented my creativity, curiosity, and imagination.
Now my homeschooling journey is coming to an end. I reread my homeschool journal which I began in grade two and will finish next June. On its pages, I see the sparks of interests that became a big part of who I am today. I see my growing awareness that we are limited by time. June 17th, 2011: This year I didn't get very far with planning my trip around the world, but I've got plenty of time for that. "There is a season for everything", Thoreau reminds me. I cannot become an advanced dancer, musician, artist, and filmmaker all at once.
Thump. Thump. I coast down the hill on my scooter, launching myself onto the next wave, the next adventure. My imagination runs wild. The world is waiting for me.
—Henry David Thoreau, 24 April 1859, Journal XII
Thump. Thump. Like a pulsing heartbeat, my foot pushes off the ground steadily, faster and faster. I'm off on my scooter, the wind brushing my face. Colorful New England foliage lifts my spirits. This morning is too beautiful to be indoors.
I pass an elderly man raking leaves. "No school today?" he calls.
"Homeschooled," I reply, matter-of-factly, as I've answered curious strangers so many times before. But the truth? I don't school at home. My learning happens fluidly, not by a rigid timetable--wherever I am, whatever I do: traveling, nature walks, museums, zoo school, ballet class, wilderness survival training, MIT science workshops, volunteering, film editing, novel writing, circus arts, music concerts, and geocaching. My vast interests guide my courses—Medieval castles one year, Cold War espionage the next—Latin, Victorian life, antiques, government, and geometry. Without a morning bus to catch, I have time to read The Wall Street Journal over coffee and discuss the news with my parents. There is no separation between our "educational" discussions and everyday conversation. My parents gave me the reins, and I took off. I developed a fierce love of learning and became the author of my education. I've enjoyed online classes in constitutional law and theatre history, and attended community lectures on film theory and 1950s society. (I'm often the only attendee under age 40.) I gained life skills: banking, entrepreneurship, trip planning, and event organizing. I taught myself how to edit movies, format an acting résumé, and write a press release.
My mom says that, as homeschoolers, we get "sun" days instead of snow days. On especially beautiful days we might study history by the lake, go apple picking, or meet up with other homeschoolers at the park. Our annual "Not-Back-to-School" picnic took place at Walden Pond. Surrounded by a group of kindred spirits, I savored the beautiful September morning in Concord, MA. Later we'd wade in the pond, walk in Thoreau's woods, visit a replica of his cabin, and reread his wise words. Henry David Thoreau's writings touch upon what I value most: independence, freedom from conformity, and living deliberately. Homeschooling allowed me to live the seasons of my childhood—to not postpone the joys and lessons of life for the sake of school. I thank my parents for the gift of time to read hundreds of books, build forts, transform our basement into a general store, and create my own "Audrey Country"—complete with its own language. Those irreplaceable experiences cemented my creativity, curiosity, and imagination.
Now my homeschooling journey is coming to an end. I reread my homeschool journal which I began in grade two and will finish next June. On its pages, I see the sparks of interests that became a big part of who I am today. I see my growing awareness that we are limited by time. June 17th, 2011: This year I didn't get very far with planning my trip around the world, but I've got plenty of time for that. "There is a season for everything", Thoreau reminds me. I cannot become an advanced dancer, musician, artist, and filmmaker all at once.
Thump. Thump. I coast down the hill on my scooter, launching myself onto the next wave, the next adventure. My imagination runs wild. The world is waiting for me.