Social life: school v home, for carolinecordery

[Saracen]

Hi Caroline! I've started a new thread because it's so hard to follow all the different discussions on the huge thread, and I plan to be even more longwinded than usual!

"I would like to read more in depth about socialisation and social life of children; comparing school social life with HE social life"

Lately I have been thinking about my childhood relationships with neighbour children and cousins, contrasting those with the relationships I had with my school peers. I see some similarities between my HE daughter's friendships and those neighbour/cousin friendships I had. Forgive my ramblings.

Story 1.

From the age of nine I lived in a neighbourhood where there were eleven children within a few doors of each other. We didn't roam terribly far - about a quarter mile - but we were out a lot and rarely under direct adult supervision.

The lad who lived two doors up, B, was in my class at school. None of the other neighbourhood kids went to our school. I suspect that today he'd be diagnosed as on the autistic spectrum. He was very bright, rather inflexible in some of his ways, and not very tuned-in socially. His clothes were particularly untrendy, he talked at great length about his favourite subjects without noticing that others had lost interest, and he tended to drool a bit when excited. He was a nice enough kid, quite average in most ways.

In the neighbourhood, I played with him regularly. Why wouldn't I? He had interesting ideas and some cool toys. We bickered and stomped off but were playing together again within a few days. He may have been a bit different, but all of us liked and accepted him just as much as anyone else. B was never singled out or picked on. If we got cross with him one day we would still be back knocking on his door the next day because the others were busy or we needed one more to make up a team.

At school it was another story entirely. B was the most unpopular kid in the class. A little detail like the drooling was enough to make him a social outcast. At school, I had as little to do with him as possible. I was civil, but no more. This was mainly because I knew that if I associated with him, his unpopularity would rub off on me. Anyway, it was not The Done Thing for girls to associate with boys. All relationships at school were conducted under the spotlight of public scrutiny, and one's social status was adjusted accordingly. Self-preservation was the rule. There were other reasons not to associate with him. With more children for me to choose from, he wasn't very high up my list anyway. We were never short of someone to make a team. Because he had no friends at school, I feared that if I did associate with him at all then he would latch onto me. I would be his only friend and I would never be rid of him. At school I wouldn't be able to leave when he bored or annoyed me, so I wasn't about to give him the slightest encouragement to launch in on one of his favourite topics of conversation.

Now, I was a nice kid if I do say so myself. I may have been rather shy but I cared about other people and was never nasty to anybody. Yet I participated in ostracising B every single day at school. I did see how much it hurt him, but still it never occurred to me to behave otherwise. It was only as an adult that I even noticed consciously that I'd treated him so differently in the neighbourhood and at school. When I step back, how two-faced and spineless I look. And yet I cannot imagine myself behaving any differently in that environment. How could I have found the courage to treat him decently when it would have meant becoming a pariah myself?

What were the differences between those two environments, which made me a nicer person in one than in the other?

First, school was a fixed social group which I had no option of leaving, where I had to spend many hours a week. I guess this is why I was unwilling to risk becoming as unpopular as B. I was always observed at school. At home I could choose to have lunch with B without it being discussed through the neighbourhood. Nobody really cared. We had other things to talk about. At school, sitting and eating with him was an Event. There was no way it would escape notice and comment. I wonder whether I would have felt able to play with him at home if any of our classmates had lived nearby, ready to report back to school that "Saracen is B's girlfriend! They were together in his bedroom for ages yesterday!" when we had been innocently playing with Lego.

Second, at school there was no escape. It was crowded and we were usually kept in the same room together. I could not excuse myself to another room or go home if B had annoyed me by talking too much, so I chose not to engage with him at all.

Third, at school there was too much choice in playmates, leaving some people out in the cold.

With my daughter, I recently read the excellent book "Queen Bees and Wannabes: Helping Your Daughters Survive Cliques, Gossip, Boyfriends, and Other Realities of Adolescence". Of all these problems, she kept saying, "well that doesn't really apply in my life because..." We were both very struck by the fact that while these problems do exist outside of school, they seem magnified a hundredfold when young people spend so much time in a fixed social group. It is no coincidence that bullying is more widespread at school than elsewhere. The more I think about it, the less healthy the whole set-up seems.

I don't HE, though I'm considering it for when my son is older. But your post got me thinking. The friends I made in school at the time felt very close (we were all bullied so our little group banded together tightly in defence). I'm only still friends with one of that group, and my friendship with her is much more distant now that I have a baby and only have time for my core interests - our only thing in common was being ostracised at school really. Another of the girls in our little group, we were basically pushed into being friends as the teachers saw we were both loners and not in with the rest of the class (and both socially awkward) and hassled us until we agreed to go shopping together. A friendship of sorts did develop, but it was a sort of "we're in this hell together and neither of us have anyone else, we might as well hang out" rather than anything based on shared interests, common ideals, or enjoying each other's company. The third girl in our trio ceased being friends with me when I put my foot down about something she was trying to force me into - she'd gotten used to being able to push us around in school as we were stuck together, once I was in the 'real world', got my confidence back (and had the chance to make other friends) and had no reason to let her dominate me anymore we argued.

In contrast the friendships I made at uni were much more real. Ditto those I've made since - I have a real choice who I associate with and there's not the pressure cooker situation to force unnatural relationships. Interestingly enough, the most enduring of my school friendships was mostly forged in 6th Form, which felt much less like we had to be there.

Had I enjoyed school rather than seeing it as something to endure, perhaps my friendships there would have been more real. But I wasn't particularly bullied (mostly ignored and ostracised, sniped at occasionally) and I enjoyed the academics. My two main problems with school were the arbitrary rules that weren't even fairly imposed on all - I hate feeling out of control of my own life and school is the biggest culprit for that - and the time it took up. I look at all the stuff I would have loved to have done but had no energy for. I do have a disability which makes it all more tiring but it's only mild, and in my circle of friends most people were the same. There was one girl in our class who had horses and did all this extra-curricular stuff with them and sports and so on, and the rest of the class always commented that we didn't know where she found the time or energy.

Thanks Saracen and Kaida, really helpful and I relate to a lot of what you say.

My early experiences at primary school were fairly benign. I enjoyed having a new environment to get to grips with, there was little academic work, lots of play, relaxed and funny teachers. We were all just curious about each other, girls played with boys, differences and quirks were accepted. I loved the communal aspects - the singing, playground games. May not have been the same for every child but I was confident and mature and relished a bit of independence.

This all faded as academic work came to the fore, competitiveness and comparison ruled, cliques formed and bullying was rife. As the brainy, sensible kid I had a hellish time for the last few years and most of the way through high school. Until I learned to adapt (sell my soul?).

Fortunately as a young child I lived on a street teeming with kids and like Saracen these friendships were much more egalitarian than those at school. We had so much freedom - to play as we wished and to be ourselves.

I am contemplating all these experiences as we think about HE for our DS.
I have a friend whose two DC are being radically unschooled (7 and 5yrs) and I do feel a bit sad for them if I'm being honest. They have no neighbourhood friends and play mainly with each other. They do attend HE group meet ups once a fortnight, go to workshops regularly and the elder has a couple of groups to attend each week. They will be fine I know, but it is all very formal and organised, they have to be driven everywhere and their mum is never more than say 20 metres away! This may of course be perfect for some children, and probably not typical ( my friend has a very particular parenting style) but it's the only picture I have at the moment of HE social life for younger kids. And I know already that this level of social interaction would not be enough for my very extrovert boy!

Because of this I am kind of leaning towards school for a few years just for the contact with other children unless I can find the elusive local HE community. Or convince my local friends to HE their DC along with us. I am working on them!

Love hearing others experiences that go beyond boring cliches.

Alwayshome
That wouldn't have been enough for my three very extroverted and radically unschooled children.
We had a 'problem' with socialisation-we sometimes had too much! The kids would ask for a 'stay at home day' sometimes when they were younger. We had so very much on offer!

However you do have to remember that not everyone wishes to socialise to that extent, some children are much happier-especially at the young age of your friends children, to mix with people on a one to one basis.
If your friend is radically unschooling, then she'll be following the children's wishes in this.
I've known a number of HE youngsters who feel like this. They are the sorts who don't like crowds or the enforced socialisation of school. Then in their own time, they can come out and mix with people of their own choosing, as often as they want to.

Where abouts do you live? Perhaps we can help you find the HE folks more local to you.
Also do you camp?
There are HE camps and gatherings that happen through the summer months, my children made loads of friends this way.

I am aware though that for some my idea of heaven, camping with a load of my HE friends is a total nightmare for some......isn't it FionaJNicholson?
wink

What excellent posts and how very true. I had other reasons for believing school socialisation was harmful and abnormal and the posts above just cement that. Interestingly my son's current school, and I, tried to push him and a loner together. They had nothing in common whatsoever and don't spend any time with each other. My son isn't a loner but has been ostracised whereas this other boy loves being a loner and is very happy.

I too s

I too sold my soul in a dramatic way :( just to survive and if some parents knew what their kids were doing just to survive school then they'd be HE'ing without a second thought.

Thank you sarecen for this thread.

It is interesting you mention 'Queen Bees and Wannabees' - it was my experience of reading that book and realising it could have been describing my DDs school, that made me take the plunge and go for HE.

I had bought it in the hope that it would help DD not want/need to be part of these horrible 'clubs' but i was depressed to find it was more about learning to identify which role you were playing and how to deal with the people in the other roles. Not what to do if completely left out and ignored for being 'different' or how to cope with feeling you have to somehow change yourself to 'fit in'.

Your story of your childhood friend made me sad because my DD was 'B' except with no friends in the neighbourhood either as they dropped her when she went to grammar school and they didnt. We are working on getting back some of those local friends she has known since she was 3 - but they have of course moved on too, it is almost two years since she saw some of them.

Yesterday DD met up with one of the girls she did think of as a friend at her high school yesterday, and sadly came home quite disappointed because she has realised the only thing they had/have in common is/was going to the same school. They had to sit next to each other in class (alphabetical) so thats why they were friends - i will never understand when people say school prepares you for real life - certainly all the friends I have made as an adult are a different age to me - even DH

And how many work colleagues are the same age?

oooh ooooh I've got one who is the same age as me!!! 6 months difference. He's in the academic year above me. We read the same subject at the same university, and never exchanged so much as a hello... (best friends now, natch)

Still amazes me, the extent to which the year-group stratification continued through university among people outside my immediate circle (within which yes, I was friends with people who might be as much as - gasp - two years older or younger than me).

It's all so crazy!!

Lol! I actually have no friends who are the same age as me so that means none of the people at my school are my friends. That was a great social experiment then!

So school taught me to have (subconsciously) disdain for my entire peer group. Maybe my son will have some friends who are the same age?

Julie, thanks for replying.
Yes, I do respect children are different and would certainly have enjoyed less enforced socialisation myself.
I exaggerated a little about the local home ed community - there are a few leads for me to follow up. Which I will do over the summer after coming home from our camping holiday no less!
Thank you also for the offer of help and I will definitely pick your brains at a future date.

I'm glad you guys are enjoying the thread! Hang on, there's a novel in me:

Story 2.

At the age of nine, dd's interests began to differ from those of her best friend, N. They had been friends for three years. Both were home educated. Their close friendship had run its course. It was just one of those things. Dd still wanted to explore the stream in wellies and play with stuffed animals. The friend was a year older and had become quite absorbed in "preteen" interests: makeup, chart music, boyfriends, teen novels.

N found a new friend, L (also home educated), who shared her new interests. L was quite cutting at times about how childish my dd was. My daughter found this hard to take, since N did not defend her and occasionally seemed to be joining in.

The situation dragged on for a very long time. N kept assuring dd in private, "YOU are really my best friend" and giving her special "best friend" presents. Very occasionally she invited dd round and they returned to playing with stuffed toys, but usually she was "too busy". Whenever L was on the scene, N barely acknowledged my dd. Sometimes there were veiled insults. It was hurtful.

I desperately wished they would all move on quickly, that N would be open about the fact that her interests had changed, or that my dd would stick up for herself and refuse to be treated as a friend in private and a laughable little unwanted kid in public. But it couldn't be hurried. It took well over a year before the separation process was complete.

...This isn't painting home education in a terribly good light, is it? But wait. I do think that the home ed factor contributed positively to a happy outcome.

For one thing, I cannot begin to imagine the pain dd would have suffered if she'd been subjected to this treatment on a prolonged and frequent basis, every day at school. There was considerable relief in the fact she could avoid the other girls whenever she wanted. Even without giving up any of her home ed activities she only would've had to see the two girls together for a couple of hours several times a week. Dd's strategy, which frustrated me at the time, was not to challenge them but to back off and wait for the girls to grow up, realise they were being mean, and stop doing it. The HE teens she knew were very nice, uncatty people, which gave her faith that the situation was temporary. But even a temporary situation is pretty unbearable if you are in it for 30 hours a week. I don't buy the idea that children need to be forced together in order to work through these issues. For my daughter, having some space was essential during her friendship problems.

For another thing, my daughter found plenty of solace in playing with people who were NOT preteen girls. Younger children could be relied on to respect her, and were unlikely to think her too childish. Boys she found straightforward, disinclined to power games and gossip. She turned away from her female "peer group" for several years. Because it is usual for home educated children of different ages and genders to play together, this was an easy thing for her to do. She was bemused by the stigma attached to this when she went to school for a term during this time. It didn't bother her overmuch because she had decided early on that she wouldn't be staying at school.

There is a happy ending, too. The girls all matured very nicely over the following few years. In time, N began to stick up for my dd quite staunchly whenever L insulted her in public. After an even longer time, L stopped being unkind altogether, though I wouldn't say my dd particularly enjoys her company even now. Now they are a bit older, my dd shares some of N's interests again and is part of her regular social circle, some eight or ten home ed girls who are often found together in various combinations. They all seem to have left this petty social jockeying behind them entirely. That phrase "best friend" is not bandied about like some kind of weapon. They are just friends, people who do stuff together and who like each other to varying degrees. It has been a very long time since my dd has complained of any of her friends treating her badly in any way - and she isn't the type who would suffer in silence!

Story 3.

There was a nine year old girl who used to come to home ed meetings occasionally while still at school. Her younger brother was already home educated. I don't know whether she was having inset days, was a bit under the weather, or her mum just didn't make her go when the girl was very unhappy.

Her mum said she wasn't happy at school. It probably wouldn't have been classed as bullying. The others just didn't like or respect her. She liked to tell stories about fairies, with an intensity that suggested that she might even believe her own stories. She loved pink floaty dresses, at an age when the other girls in her class wore tight black clothes after school. They found her uncool and childish, and told her so.

The day after she left school for good, I saw her at the park where a number of home educated kids were playing. She was being followed round by a gaggle of younger girls, who were trailing after her adoringly. They loved pink floaty dresses. The more frills, the better! She led them over to a hole in the bush, where she said she had seen fairies, and told them all about it. Their eyes were huge and round. She appeared to be a good few inches taller than I had ever seen her before.

I only knew her for a few years, because the family moved away when she was 12. In those three years of home education, she never really clicked with girls of her own age. It didn't seem to bother her. She loved her siblings and had plenty of friends among the younger girls. The older ones never bothered much about her. They were polite to her when their paths crossed hers, and did their own thing without belittling her. She was always welcome to join them if she wanted, which she did occasionally. Maybe they accepted her because she wasn't thrust upon them? I don't know why they found it easier to accept her than her schoolmates had.

As I say, I don't know what sort of young woman she has grown into. If I had to guess, I would imagine that she will always be confident and eccentric, and that she will always manage to find people who share her unusual interests.

There's no particular reason why children have to have friends of their own age. This girl's self-esteem and social skills certainly seemed to blossom when she was given more freedom to associate with any children she wanted.

I've always found it easier to get on with people older than me. I did when I was 12. I still do now I'm in my 30s.

I loved school (academic geek) and was never bullied, though I was a bit shy and sometimes struggled to find friends. But the thing I love about non-school relationships is that you don't have to pretend not to be 'yourself'. I wish I hadn't felt the need to spend all those years pretending I wasn't intelligent just so I'd be able to get on with people socially. Group work was the worst - I'd have to sit there and be pretty much silent, or be accused of being the 'brainy' or 'interfering' one.

Story 4.

From the ages of nine to twelve, outside of school I spent much of my time playing with the boy over the road, who was four years younger than I was. He was my best friend, but I don't think that I would have thought of him that way. One wasn't really allowed to have best friends outside of the year group, and a boy!?

Being with him was easy in a way that being with my school peers was not. He would never have taunted me about the length of my trousers as they did. (Trousers were "supposed" to almost brush the ground, but my parents could not afford to replace them so often as I grew.) A five year old boy is interested in other things. He usually followed my lead, and I usually won our games. Having no younger siblings of my own, I suppose he was a substitute little brother. Playing with him gave me a feeling of competence. I liked helping him and teaching him new things. His parents were delighted at what they felt was the settling and civilising influence I had on him. They knew he was safe when he was playing out with me.

At school I did seek out a similar friendship, but there was never much chance of it succeeding. For one thing, the nine to eleven year olds were all kept together at playtime and lunchtime, so when I was nine there were literally no younger children around. And of course when I moved up to another school at twelve, I was again the youngest there. At ten I made friendly approaches to one particular girl in the year group below, but it was not the done thing to have friends outside of the year group. I was teased for being a loser who had to play with little kids, and soon gave up.

My daughter went to school for a term in Year Five, where she had a similar experience. It was a small school and it should have been easy for the ages to mix. They did at least all play football together at breaktime, except for the children in Reception and Year One who were not allowed to play in case of being bowled over by bigger children. Wanting a break from the cliques of the older girls, she was friendly with a few younger children but was promptly informed that this was not acceptable. She also liked a girl in the year above. They were even in the same class, it being a small school, but again there was plenty of disapproval from the others. In this case, there were only THREE MONTHS' difference between their ages, but they were still expected to move in different social circles.

Saracen this is exactly one of the (many) problems of so-called socialisation at school. Kids are segregated into age groups in class and in the playground; you are deemed weird if you want to play with younger kids; and, especially in primary, girls and boys don't mix. My dcs who are HE-ed meet and play with kids both older and younger and boys and girls mix freely. This is certainly a more natural way to socialise and a much better preparation for life and the workplace.

This thread is fab! I shall print it to show to people who express concerns about our intention to he our dd ( nearly 2). It's also nice to see that one of the usual nay sayers hasn't jumped in and told us we're delusional (yet!).

Ah just wanted to say that I have now found this thread that was intended to help me; thank you; have just started reading...

Thank you very much for taking the time to write these stories esp Saracen. I feel more reassured that school type socialisation is not necessarily the model of child social life that we should aspire to replicate in any way in HE.
I feel like I want to think about and write down what I remember from primary school, and then send it to people from my class at primary school if I have their contact details, eg through facebook, to see if they can add anything. I actually kept a diary daily throughout secondary school so that will be useful to re-read.
I'll keep in mind the Queen Bees and Wannabees book, but what is the best age for my daughter to be when I read it? Is there anything to be gained from reading it while girls are young, and is there a similar book about boys' groups?

What a lovely and thought-provoking thread
Saracen. Thank you!

Great! I'm glad you like it. Your idea of reflecting on primary school could be interesting, Caroline.

My husband, who was initially opposed to home education on the grounds that we would be depriving our child of the opportunity to experience school, began to change his mind after I asked him about his childhood. We hadn't been discussing education at the time. I just asked him about his happiest and unhappiest childhood memories. Then I pointed out that ALL of his happiest memories were of events that happened outside of school, and nearly all of his unhappiest memories were of events at school.

About Queen Bees and Wannabees: from comparing notes with other parents, it seems that Year Five, roughly, is when the social jockeying begins in earnest. That's what I remember from my own childhood too. But occasionally girls as young as Year One get very into controlling each other and setting up cliques. You could just wait until your children start to experience this behaviour and then tackle it.

All I'd say is, don't accept the common wisdom that girls this age are just like that. It is not a normal developmental phase for children of any age to be nasty to each other deliberately. It is a sign that the child is hurting and is in an unhealthy environment. People who take that environment for granted find this a difficult concept to grasp. They can't envision a different environment and therefore don't see that the solution could be as simple as finding a better environment for the child.

Story 5.

A seven year old boy started coming to our home ed group soon after he left school. His mother said that the psychiatrist had told her that her son was deeply disturbed and prone to psychotic episodes. At school he viciously attacked other children on a frequent basis, often unprovoked, or so his teachers said. Some of his classmates did enjoy the game of winding him up just to watch him snap, and were good at doing this without being observed. It didn't take much to make him erupt, after all. Some of his victims were probably not trying to wind him up, but were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. His mum said he seemed a normal happy boy at home. He was very active and had a short attention span, but he loved his sisters and played well with them.

The day she discovered home education was a legal option, she took him out of school. She said she had no idea whether she could do a good job of home educating, but that it couldn't be any worse for her son than school was. She had reached the point of not even caring about his education. All that mattered at this stage was improving his mental health and trying to prevent him hospitalising anyone or ending up in prison as an adult.

I admit I was slightly nervous as I watched him energetically whacking bushes with a stick a little distance away from where the other kids were playing. His mum said it would be OK, because he always avoided all children other than his sisters anyway. He'd be fine as long as no one bothered him. Anyway, I could see she was watching him like a hawk, ready to intervene.

Two weeks later she came up to me at the ice rink, looking amazed: "My son just ran up to your daughter and SMILED AT HER." "Oh, that's nice," I said. "No, you don't understand," she continued. "In the last three years he has NEVER voluntarily gone near another child. He thinks all children are his enemies." It wasn't just my daughter who hit it off with him. He was soon joining in with all the others. He was friendly and well liked. I personally found him one of the most charming and enthusiastic people I have ever met. He did have quite a temper, but with his mother's coaching he learned to take control of it. He had opportunities to walk away while he simmered down.

Call him abnormal if you will. Certainly most children don't lash out so hard when they are teased or frustrated; internalising the pain seems a more common response. But there is something very wrong with an environment that could have done this to any child, to turn him from a fairly normal (if short-tempered) child into a boy who apparently expected every interaction with his peers to end in violence. What future would he have had if he had stayed at school?

His mum didn't have to do much to turn him around. She just removed him from an atmosphere where he felt trapped and persecuted, and gave him the freedom to find his own way of learning to be with other children.

I havent had time to read all of your stories Saracen (and dont know how much time I have before kids come downstairs)... However, reading this thread has brought up some well and truely buried things that I hadnt had the inkling to consider about my own school years. Holy Crap, there might be some issues that I may have to dig up and deal with ...Wow. I think this thread has just scratched the surface enough to make me realise some things that I didnt know I had to realise.

My girls are very much like other girls their age. They are wonderful tho... I say it like that bc while there was a lot of cliquey-ness in their secondary school, they are both 13, and altho there was a LOT of horrible stuff that went on within those 'normal(says our culture)' confines, my girls honestly learned to rise above it. They were NOT like those girls who were your friend one day and fell out with you the next bc you didnt say hi to some-such-a-body's brother's best friend's cousin. ~My girls just couldnt understand this! 'Oh you're friends with so-and-so? Well you know this about her dont you? I hate her! Her cousin's best friend did blahblahblah...' and word then goes around that my dd and such and such a girl are fighting after school! My girls didnt get this at all! I see them playing with all the kids at the HE groups and they are happy and lovely and yeah there's one or two girls they...well one... they find particularly annoying but they have SO much unhindered interaction and just FUN with ALL the kids of every age at these home ed meet ups.

There are times when I have a bit of a wobbly about HE and my kids. What about actually educating these kids? Im in college (my last day today WOOHOO!!) and was worrying if Id been doing enough 'making these kids learn stuff' since they finished with mainstream school in february. What about gcse's and ...oh my goodness what about their future!!! Am I doing enough to stimulate them... etc etc...

Then I stop... read stuff like this and realise we are still deschooling, just getting used to things and I really am quite confident that the rest will most definately fall into place. I realise Ive given them the space to really BE themselves and not have to pretend to be someone just to fit into everyone else's ideas of what 'normal' is. I dont know if they 'get it' yet, but I think they will look back and see what I was trying to achieve with this HE'ing thing...

Even dh gets it now, lol. He was a bit wobbly himself about it but we've ironed out some of our differences and he's really very understanding, more so than I gave him credit for.