The brutality for kids out of school

Occasionally in cyberspace I trip over a dozy member of the general public who bursts out that it is the government's job to educate our children, and anything else is deeply unsettling and wrong.

These people are excellent, and more fun than tying my children to the air con and poking them with goat bones. These members of the public always appeal to the wisdoms of others to back up their arguments. So, they know their opinions are right about home ed because their friend Maureen has a sister, and she knows a woman who once worked for the NSPCC and everyone knows what a good job they do.

Maureen says that keeping your children out of school is unnatural and a cover for all sorts of stuff you wouldn't dream of inflicting on a dog. That's why home education should be banned. And if there is a weedy excuse why your child cannot attend school, like a bit of crying and a few suicide attempts, then you should have your house hard wired to social services so they can come and inspect you.

Well, Grit is speaking from several years of bitter home ed experience, and she can tell you a thing or two about learning outside a classroom. But don't listen to Grit, obviously, because Maureen's sister's friend says all home ed kids sit around sniffing glue and shouting abuse at passers by. That is when they are not hidden away in the crack house called home by their drug addict parents, or passing their PhD at age 13 because they have been hothoused all their lives, poor little mites.

I can only do what I can do, and that is to blog on, and present to Maureen's sister's friend the true horrible reality in the daily miserable suffering of a bunch of primary age, home educated kids.

The other day we visited a local gallery to see a collection of old maps, and the kids all stood around talking about them, choosing their favourites, finding the drawings of sea monsters and sailing ships. Then we all went to the park and the kids played hide and seek, charades, and their own version of Hong Kong's Got Talent.




The truth is so boring, I might well confess to mental illness, alcoholism, and a relationship with other family members based on mutual loathing. Just to spice things up a bit.