Perhaps when my grandparents were going to university, they were distancing themselves from their origins. My maternal grandmother spoke only Slovenian at home until she entered public school in the Chicago area in the 1930’s. When my paternal great grandparents spoke English they did so with a heavy Yiddish accent, from the way my dad describes them. In The Achievement of Desire, Richard Rodriguez writes, “…I heard my father speak to my teacher and felt ashamed of his labored, accented words.” Similar to Rodriguez’s feelings about his own parents, my grandmother said that she probably felt embarrassed by her parents’ English skills, but she lamented the fact that she had forgotten the Slovenian language.
If there was a separation from the traditional European homelife, it came long before me. I come from a highly educated background, where learning is encouraged and valued. My paternal grandfather taught at the University of Michigan and wrote textbooks about logic and my maternal grandmother has a bachelor’s degree in biology and a master’s degree in botany. My entire immediate family graduated from San Francisco State University: my dad holds a bachelor’s and a master’s; my mother has a degree in French Language and Literature and a teaching credential; my brother earned his degree in art and photography. Both of my parents were teachers. I have uncles who are teachers, lawyers and engineers. My aunt is an MD and my cousin has a PHD.
How did I stray off of the path, which was so clearly laid out for me? When I was 13 years old, I encountered a book called The Teenage Liberation Handbook. The author, Grace Llewellyn, describes a few ways in which the traditional schooling path is counterproductive to actual learning: “…fear of ‘bad’ grades, lack of faith in one’s abilities… an occasional uninformed teacher, illogical or inherently dull teaching methods…” The way she described unschooling (or becoming an autodidact) was so enticing to me, I could taste the freedom from the forced structure of public school on the tip of my tongue. The separation I initiated at 13 is one that has stuck with me over the years. Being home schooled undeniably separated me from my roots. Not only my familial roots of the traditional path, but MY own roots. I attended public school for close to nine years, and though I did well, I never really enjoyed it. But deciding to leave public school in favor of following an alternative educational path was not an easy one. I felt isolated from my peers who continued on in the public school system. I vowed to visit them every day after school, but it was not long before that grew tiresome. I was missing out on all the day-to-day activities and their gossip no longer concerned me. I was no longer part of the club.
As I grew apart from my school friends, I felt lonely and somewhat isolated. Llewellyn writes, “To have a social life, you at least have to start with raw material–other human beings. SInce most of the people near your age are shut up in school, you do face a challenge.” I was fortunate to find group of other home schoolers that I turned to for education, friendship and a sense of community. In 1996, Llewellyn began hosting a summer camp for unschoolers called “Not Back to School Camp.” NBTSC has expanded since my first year as a camper in 2001, but the goal remains the same: to connect unschooled teenagers (13-19) from across the United States, Canada, and even the globe with one another.
Though I had the support of my parents, there was a division among some of my extended family. Some wanted to know how I was going to “keep up” with my peers and would question me about what curriculum I was following. Others told me stories of their high school glory days, and implored me to reconsider.
When I was 16, I took the California High School Proficiency Exam (CHSPE). I passed and was awarded California’s version of the GED. With the CHSPE out of the way, I was able to enroll at City College of San Francisco before I turned 18. I attended City College on and off for many years, studying various subjects and even going abroad to France and Spain for two school years.
Over the last few years I have felt criticized by certain members of my family over my lack of a degree. I do not feel that my intelligence was doubted, but rather that there was a sense of unfulfillment and wasted potential. I kept talking about going back to school, and my parents have supported me unconditionally every time, in spite of my feeling a bit like the boy who cried wolf. Every attempt was met with frustration on my part. I knew that it took my dad several attempts at college before he saw it through to graduation, and I found comfort in knowing that I was not the only person to struggle with societal and familial expectations. Now that I am back in school, I feel a connection to my immediate family and a sense of personal satisfaction.
