The Hidden Children?: my thoughts on home education

Firstly, an apology to those who follow my somewhat random posts for the history, for the bits about books, or for the occasionally vaguely witty observations about my travels or my life in general. This is not one of those posts. There is something about today’s world that appears to have turned me into some kind of activist. It would probably be more accurate to say that I have been forced out of my comfort zone and those maverick qualities that I have always had have surfaced. I hope that you will read this anyway, despite its length (you’d better, I got up at 3am to write this because I needed to get it out of my head).

I also have to make it quite clear that I have nothing but admiration for all those who work within our beleaguered school system, struggling with increasingly inadequate funding and layers of ridiculous and frequently unnecessary bureaucracy. Many of my friends and family work, or have worked, in schools. In my convoluted career I have been and still am, associated with education in a variety of ways; in mainstream schools, in private schools, in special schools and in adult education. I was a pupil at three very different establishments, I have been a teacher, a teaching assistant, a governor, a university tutor, a bursar, a dinner lady and a parent.

Home education has been given a high profile of late and much of the media coverage has been negative. I have never been a home educator but I have encouraged friends to home educate and I have been a tutor for home educated children. Oh how I regret that I did not add this to my list of roles. There is talk of ‘hidden children’, children who have somehow slipped beneath the radar of officialdom. Suddenly, this is seen as some kind of scandal. Absolutely, the welfare of every child is paramount. Home education should never be allowed to mask inappropriate treatment of a young person but the recent demonization of all those who, often reluctantly, see no option but to take their children out of the school system is deeply unjust. With the exception of an infinitesimally small percentage, children are not home educated in order to deliberately hide them from the authorities.

Compromise is a necessary feature of even the best of schools. No teacher, however brilliant, can possibly be doing the absolute best for all thirty of the children in front of them at any one moment, let alone all of the time. Of course, teachers differentiate but no one can personally cater optimally for thirty different ability levels and learning styles every minute of the day. As a teacher, for the most part, you play to the middle, throwing as many scraps as you can to those on the periphery, perhaps, if funding cuts haven’t yet hit, with the aid of a teaching assistant. This isn’t bad teaching, it is survival. I have taught classes of just three children, where I was acutely aware that what I was delivering really only suited one of them. Yes I made sure it wasn’t always the same pupil but it meant that these children were not receiving an ideal education for much of each day. Despite this, broadly speaking, schools work well for most pupils, most of the time. Yet there have always been and always will be, those children for whom school is not the right place. Indeed for a few, it is so bad a fit that it is positively harmful and often having those children in a classroom is to the detriment of not just that child but also of the others in that group. These are the children on the side-lines, so far on the margins that they are, at best, ignored. At worst, their frustration, their anguish or their terror means that become disruptive and they are removed from the classroom, or they are permanently excluded. These children have been labelled forever. They are seen to be failures, yet it is they who have been failed. I really wish that our schools were ideal places for everyone but we are a long way from that and with more and more slashing of budgets, we are getting further away by the day. Here is the real scandal. The real hidden children are those who are within the school system yet are being failed by it.

So let me tell those who frown upon home educators, that this is not a decision that has been taken lightly. It is hugely difficult to keep your children at home. You have no resources, no pay, no energy and no respite. It can of course be unbelievably rewarding and indeed vital for those for whom school just does not work, for a variety of reasons. The home educating parent is investing heavily emotionally, practically and financially in creating an individually tailored, nurturing learning environment because they believe that this is overwhelmingly in their child’s best interests. The media’s implication that all home educated children are neglected, when in the vast majority of cases that could not be further from the truth, is not only wildly inaccurate but hugely disrespectful and damaging, as well as causing untold distress.

I was very nearly a home educator. As my eldest child neared school age, I doubted that school could prevent her from becoming disaffected and bored. Then we moved house and I approached three local schools to ask what provision they could make for my nearly four year old who could happily read the likes of Winnie the Pooh (unabridged) and was as precociously numerate as she was literate. I was brushed off, I was patently disbelieved and then I found the right school. All went well for four years. We lived in an area where children changed schools at the age of nine and again at thirteen. My child had been working with children up to two years older than she was. When her friends reached nine, I was told that my eight year old should stay where she was, whilst her classmates moved on. This ridiculous decision was based purely on her physical size. I was furious but impotent. Her academic education did not suffer but her friendship groups were severed and she became socially isolated. She would be the first to say that this did not materially change until she went to university.

Although I had seriously considered home education for daughter number one, school was working for her (at least at that point), so daughter number two went to school, of course she did, it is what you do. All the warning signs were there. Why did I ignore the fact that this daughter spoke to no one at school, unless she was directly addressed, for over two years? Why did I not read more in to her hitting me with her lunch box on the way home each day because I had put her through such a traumatising experience? Hindsight is a wonderful thing. So we persevered with school, she duly moved schools at nine and then the bullying began. Any school that tells you they do not have a bullying problem is deluded. What differs is how well they deal with it. This school dealt with it badly. Their solution was to suggest putting my already bored and disaffected child into a lower ability set to keep her away from the main perpetrator. I refused. Why should the victim be disadvantaged? Matters got worse. My child began deliberately underperforming and then school refusing. I spent many long weeks gradually getting her back in to school. Looking back, I have no idea why I did this. It remains the single worst mistake I have made as a parent. I have never been one to bow to social pressures, so I cannot cite that as a reason. I suppose, despite all the evidence to the contrary, I still had faith in the system. To make matters worse, I had the time and the experience to home educate. What little paid work I was doing would have been compatible with helping my child to learn at home. I would have had to sacrifice nothing but convention. I still can’t explain why I didn’t take her out of school and it is one of my biggest regrets that I did not. School left lasting scars on my child and any learning was despite, not because of, the education system. This was not all down to the school itself; it was primarily because my child was so deeply incompatible with that learning environment, that the experience was both harrowing and harmful.

I fully support our education system yet, equally, I realise that there are some children who are infinitly better off outside it. As regards education in the academic sense, there are few who would argue that a personally tailored one-to-one delivery is not the best vehicle for imparting information. Yes, learning to work with others is a skill, as is accepting that you cannot always be the main focus of attention but that can be part of home education. There is a massive emphasis on schools as a vehicle for socialisation as well as education. This is ridiculously artificial. At what other stage in life are you socialising with twenty nine other people with whom you may have nothing in common apart from your chronological age? As someone close to me said, you end up sitting next to the least worst person. Of course, we all have to live in the real world and learn to get along, to a greater or lesser extent, with others and be part of a group but school does not have the monopoly on providing this experience. Home education is not incompatible with socialisation, in fact it can encourage socialisation with a much wider range of people. Peers can be cruel as well as kind. Enforced school-induced socialisation wreaks irrevocable psychological damage on countless bullied children; every year some are driven to take their own lives.


After all that I thought we deserved a nice calming picture

We also have to acknowledge that there are those for whom the prospect of interacting with others is an overwhelmingly anxious process. We would not remove hearing aids from a deaf child and expect them to ‘get used to it’ and somehow hear better as a result. Society would rightly be appalled at the prospect. Yet we do not apply the same measure to those with crippling social anxiety. By the application of some seriously perverted logic we think that throwing them into the school environment will help them ‘get used to it’. This is not just the equivalent of ‘the deep end’ but a bottomless chasm. It may be that this extreme form of exposure therapy might appear, on the surface, to work (the  child stays in school is the imperfect indicator of success) but at what hidden emotional cost? How much better would it be to lead that child gently and slowly, in a calm and supported environment, introducing them to others a few at a time, until the appallingly frightening prospect of ‘other people’ becomes more manageable.

In recent days, the media hype about ‘hidden children’ has reached a frenzy. Home educated children are not hidden. For the most part, they are happy, well-balanced, inquisitive young people who are learning important life skills alongside more traditionally academic topics in a manner that is one hundred per cent suitable for them. They are often highly skilled at self-motivation and are superior independent learners who are preparing to become engaged, sociable and often brilliant adults who are an asset to the workplace and society as a whole. The ill-informed who believe the ‘fake news’ now view all home educating parents as resting somewhere on a scale between weird and abusive. These parents are incredibly hard-working and self-sacrificing. They have often come to home education only after a lengthy battle to get suitable provision for their child within the school system; provision that the grossly overstretched resources cannot always provide. We have to accept that and not continue to attempt to fit the proverbial square pegs in to round holes, doing irreparable damage as we knock off those corners in the process. It is not and does not have to be, one size fits all. Instead of vilifying home educators, can we not celebrate difference and support those who have made this decision, not lightly, not on a whim but frequently out of sheer necessity? We do not all have to be the same, different does not have to be wrong.

For those who are here for the history, ponder on this. It is only in the last hundred and fifty years that we have universally delegated the education of our children to others. Until then, most children learned what they needed to from their parents and those around them, within the home. That may not have been best for everyone but it was certainly better for some. I for one want to live in a society where we have the freedom to choose what is best for our children and one where we are supported in that choice, even if the path we choose is not the conventional one.

Normal service will resume soon, I promise.







4 comments on “The Hidden Children?: my thoughts on home education

  1. Sue Cox says:

    Very well said Janet. It is sad to see how some of our children can be damaged in the lion’s den of the state education system. We can only pray tbat there will be a guardian Angel to watch over and protect them – body,soul and spirit.

  2. martyw37 says:

    Hi Janet
    This was a very interesting to read
    Our our own children had very different school experiences , some with challenges and others who just sailed through with very little difficulty.
    Two of our boys hardly had to work at all and achieved very high marks The other two had to work very hard for everything, but we never compared them to the others Our daughter had asthma and missed a lit of school but we never knew anything about home schooling in those day.
    It likely would have been good for her but not so sure of Momma as i don’t think teaching would have been one of my strong suites.
    She did home her first three children for several years until #5 came along and for financial reasons she had to return to work.
    They were involved with Homeschooling groups when she did teach them and had lots of opportunities to socialize with other children and they did well.
    When they did go to school they were able to put them into a Christian school and they all went through that until her youngest was in Grade 8 but at that time all her money was going toward the tuition which by now was only for one and so he finished out his year in the public system and they all went to [public high schools Fortunately they did okay and have all done well.
    One of our sons also had 4 children and as his wife was a trained teacher they too opted for homeschooling
    Eventually there were some compilations that required his wife to go back to teaching
    She was hired at a Christian High school and the children went to Christian elementary school and eventually all went through the High school where she taught .
    They were all very bright and all did well and have all gone on to university education .

    The other two families all went through the public systems and some had problems and some were fine, Their parents were able to keep a handle on any problems that evolved

    Now some of our great grandsons are are going to the same Christian school as their mom went to and on Grandparents’ Day , they are the only ones who have 4 great grandparents who are there for most of the special events.

    In fact when the oldest boy was in JK , Martin used to help out by driving him to school and picking him up after.
    The principal said he was the only great grandparent that they had ever had do that!
    Once again thank you for sharing your story.
    I don’t mean to carry on so long here !!

  3. Ann Simcock says:

    I am in total agreement. I was a teacher. I later moved to a special school where I went out to children’s own homes and taught them. (Many years ago when the education authorities had money).
    When I had my son we were living in Wales and the schools were in Welsh. We were not Welsh speakers and thought that our son would be at a disadvantage. At the outset I knew I had educated other people’s children at home so I would do the same for my own son.
    As it happened by school age we were back in England but despite opposition from almost everybody I stuck to my guns. Gwilym was musical and clever. We took him to a group for gifted children where he mixed with children of all ages and abilities and was not bullied because he was clever. I took him to drama, swimming, gymnastics, and several other mixed age groups. His musical ability led us to take him every Saturday from South Cheshire to London to Trinity College’s Junior department where even there he was in a group which was for childrsn 2 years older.
    Eventually Gwilym himself made the decision that one day a week was not enough music and we applied to Chetham’s School of Music.
    He is now regarded as an exceptional professional pianist and composer. Home education allowed Gwilym to follow his own path. It did eventually end in school but in the end it was a path that he wanted to take and he is a rounded and perfectly wonderful young man.
    Throughout his early years as I tried to get what was best to suit his ability I was regarded as doting mum and exaggerating. I am not actually a forceful person but somehow for this conviction I was not moved and I am so grateful that I stuck to it.

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