Skeptical homeschooling means several things to me.

First, I’m skeptical, just, well, generally. About everyone.

Second, I’m skeptical about school. By dint of our fathers’ professions, my husband and I logged twenty elementary and secondary schools between the two of us. I skipped a grade then dropped out of high school at 16 to start attending community college. Neither one of us can point to more than one teacher who really made a difference in those years, and most of that time was miserable. (Thankfully, university–and law school–were altogether different for us, except for the part where my husband didn’t go to law school, since he was smart enough to major in something that allowed his gainful employment.)

Third, I’m skeptical about homeschooling. I didn’t want to do it. Most homeschool moms are scary. So many homeschool kids are scary. I’ve yet to find anything that resembles a decent curriculum, although I’ve cobbled together the best of what I have found.

Fourth, I’m skeptical about myself. Am I doing this correctly? Should I be doing this? Is my kid normal? Or, rather, since she’s not normal, is she normal for what she is?  Should I be thinking about this? Am I chasing my own tail?

Fifth, there is the supernatural thing. I’ve been skeptical about God since my minister father explained the concept to me, and years of listening to his sermons and seeing the man-in-the-robe behavior vs. the man-in-the-bathrobe behavior didn’t help. I tell my daughter the truth: it would be lovely to believe in God and an afterlife. I don’t. We have the advantage, my husband and I, of having been steeped in religion growing up, albeit of different varieties, and discussing religion is something we do. Singing hymns (or lately, ad-libbing new lyrics to common hymns to annoy our daughter) is something we do. But being atheists does make us outliers in the homeschool world.

PS: I’m skeptical of atheists, too. For every person ringing my doorbell to tell me the good news, there’s an asshole atheist. I spend a fair amount of time trying to dispel the asshole atheist stereotype. I tell the bell-ringers that I’m very sorry, we’re atheists–but good luck!

So in a nutshell, well, I’m skeptical. I always have more questions than answers. My gut reaction to anything new is “Hell, no.” When on boards or committees, I was the “No” person, until I realized that it got old fast, pointing out all the faults in a plan and being outvoted anyway. Now I am skeptical enough of boards and committees that I don’t want to be on any of them.

Skeptical, no person that I am, though, it never stopped me from being bossy or having opinions. So?