SEVERAL MONTHS PRIOR, MY HUSBAND BEN AND I FOUND OURSELVES AT A DINNER GATHERING WHEN HE ABRUPTLY ANNOUNCED HIS DESIRE TO HOMESCHOOL OUR DAUGHTER, LILY. THIS PROPOSAL WAS UTTERLY UNEXPECTED, AND HIS DELIVERY… PECULIAR. HE LAUNCHED INTO A DISCOURSE ON HOW EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTIONS INHIBIT CREATIVITY AND HOW LILY REQUIRED GREATER AUTONOMY. AROUND THE TABLE, HEADS BOBBED IN AGREEMENT, IMPRESSED. INITIALLY, I SHARED THEIR SENTIMENT. AFTER ALL, WHAT PARENT DOESN’T ASPIRE TO THE UTMOST FOR THEIR CHILD?
AT HOME, HE PERSISTED IN REITERATING THE SUBJECT, OFFERING CASUAL REMARKS SUCH AS, “LILY POSSESSES UNTAPPED POTENTIAL BEYOND THE CONFINES OF A CLASSROOM.” HE DISPLAYED GENUINE ZEAL, VEHEMENTLY CHAMPIONING THIS NOTION. I BEGAN TO CONSIDER THE MERIT IN HIS PERSPECTIVE, AND WHEN HE ULTIMATELY SUGGESTED WITHDRAWING HER FROM SCHOOL, I OFFERED NO OBJECTION.
FOR THE INITIAL MONTHS, ALL APPEARED TO BE PROCEEDING SMOOTHLY. BEN WOULD SPEND “SCHOOL HOURS” WITH LILY WHILE I ATTENDED TO MY WORK, DISPLAYING THEIR ACCOMPLISHMENTS WITH A FATHER’S PRIDE. LILY APPEARED CONTENT, AND BEN CONSISTENTLY REASSURED ME OF HER FLOURISHING PROGRESS.
HOWEVER, ONE AFTERNOON, I RETURNED HOME EARLIER THAN EXPECTED. WISHING NOT TO INTRUDE, I MOVED WITH UTMOST SILENCE, BUT THEN I DETECTED IT — LILY’S VOICE. SHE WAS WEEPING…… FROM THE OTHER SIDE OF THE CLOSED STUDY DOOR. MY HEART QUICKENED ITS PACE. I CREPT CLOSER, PRESSING MY EAR GENTLY AGAINST THE WOOD. BETWEEN SOBS, I COULD MAKE OUT SNIPPETS OF LILY’S WORDS, “…DON’T UNDERSTAND… TOO HARD… I CAN’T…”
CAUTIOUSLY, I PUSHED THE DOOR OPEN, JUST A CRACK, PEERING INSIDE. THE SIGHT THAT GREETED ME WAS FAR FROM THE IDYLLIC HOMESCHOOLING SCENE I HAD PICTURED. BEN SAT AT HIS DESK, SCROLLING THROUGH HIS PHONE, COMPLETELY OBLIVIOUS TO LILY, WHO WAS SLUMPED OVER A STACK OF WORKBOOKS AT THE TABLE. HER SMALL SHOULDERS SHOOK WITH EACH SOB, TEARS DRIPPING ONTO THE OPEN PAGE BEFORE HER. THE “SCHOOLWORK” STREWN AROUND HER WASN’T THE VARIED, CREATIVE LEARNING I HAD IMAGINED. IT WAS ROW UPON ROW OF REPETITIVE MATH PROBLEMS AND DREARY-LOOKING GRAMMAR EXERCISES.
I PUSHED THE DOOR OPEN FURTHER AND STEPPED INTO THE ROOM. BOTH BEN AND LILY STARTLED, TURNING TOWARDS ME. LILY’S FACE WAS RED AND STREAKED WITH TEARS. BEN LOOKED ANNOYED, A FAINT FROWN ETCHING ITSELF ONTO HIS FOREHEAD.
“HONEY, I DIDN’T REALIZE YOU WERE HOME,” HE SAID, HIS VOICE A LITTLE TOO LOUD, A LITTLE TOO CHEERFUL. “WE WERE JUST HAVING A PRODUCTIVE AFTERNOON, WEREN’T WE, LILY-BUG?” HE GAVE LILY A FORCED, UNCONVINCING SMILE.
LILY LOOKED AT ME, HER EYES WIDE AND PLAINLY BEGGING FOR HELP. “IT’S… IT’S REALLY HARD, MOMMY,” SHE WHISPERED, HER VOICE TREMBLING. “DADDY JUST… HE GIVES ME THESE BOOKS, AND HE SAYS TO DO THEM, BUT I DON’T UNDERSTAND SOME OF IT. AND… AND HE GETS MAD WHEN I ASK FOR HELP.”
MY HEART SANK. THE VEHEMENT ZEAL, THE GRAND DISCOURSE ABOUT CREATIVITY AND AUTONOMY – IT HAD ALL BEEN A FACADE. BEN WASN’T HOMESCHOOLING LILY; HE WAS NEGLECTING HER EDUCATION UNDER THE GUISE OF IT. HE WASN’T NURTURING HER POTENTIAL; HE WAS IGNORING HER NEEDS.
I SAT DOWN NEXT TO LILY, PULLING HER GENTLY INTO A HUG. “IT’S OKAY, SWEETIE,” I SOOTHED, GLARING AT BEN OVER HER HEAD. “MOMMY’S HERE NOW.”
TURNING TO BEN, MY VOICE, THOUGH QUIET, WAS FIRM. “BEN, WE NEED TO TALK. PRIVATELY.”
HE FOLLOWED ME OUT OF THE STUDY, A DEFENSIVE STANCE ALREADY FORMING. IN THE LIVING ROOM, I CONFRONTED HIM. “WHAT IS GOING ON IN THERE, BEN? LILY IS MISERABLE. THIS ISN’T HOMESCHOOLING; THIS IS… THIS IS LAZINESS DISGUISED AS EDUCATION.”
HE TRIED TO BLUSTER, TO DEFLECT, TO REVERT TO HIS GRAND IDEALS ABOUT THE FLAWS OF TRADITIONAL EDUCATION. BUT I CUT HIM SHORT. “I DON’T CARE ABOUT YOUR THEORIES RIGHT NOW, BEN. I CARE ABOUT LILY. SHE’S CRYING, SHE’S STRUGGLING, AND YOU’RE ON YOUR PHONE, IGNORING HER. THIS HAS TO STOP.”
THE CONVERSATION WAS LONG AND DIFFICULT. IT TURNED OUT BEN HADN’T ACTUALLY RESEARCHED HOMESCHOOLING CURRICULA OR PEDAGOGY. HE HAD SIMPLY ORDERED SOME GENERIC WORKBOOKS ONLINE, ASSUMING THAT WAS SUFFICIENT. HIS “ZEAL” HAD BEEN MORE ABOUT APPEARING PROGRESSIVE AND LESS ABOUT ACTUALLY EDUCATING OUR DAUGHTER. HE HAD ENJOYED THE PRAISE AT THE DINNER PARTY, THE IDEA OF BEING AN UNCONVENTIONAL PARENT, BUT HE HADN’T PUT IN THE WORK.
IN THE END, FACED WITH LILY’S DISTRESS AND MY RESOLUTE OPPOSITION, BEN FINALLY ADMITTED HE WAS OUT OF HIS DEPTH. WE AGREED TO ENROLL LILY BACK IN SCHOOL. THERE WAS SOME INITIAL ADJUSTMENT FOR HER, BUT SHE BLOSSOMED BACK IN THE STRUCTURED ENVIRONMENT, SURROUNDED BY FRIENDS AND QUALIFIED TEACHERS.
BEN, HUMBLED AND A LITTLE ASHAMED, STARTED TO ATTEND PARENTING WORKSHOPS AND READ BOOKS ON CHILD DEVELOPMENT. HE REALIZED THAT BEING A GOOD PARENT WASN’T ABOUT GRAND GESTURES AND IDEOLOGICAL STATEMENTS, BUT ABOUT CONSISTENT EFFORT, EMPATHY, AND ACTUALLY LISTENING TO YOUR CHILD’S NEEDS.
LILY THRIVED BACK IN SCHOOL, HER CREATIVITY, FAR FROM BEING INHIBITED, FOUND NEW OUTLETS IN ART CLASS AND DRAMA CLUB. AND BEN, WHILE PERHAPS A LITTLE LESS VOCAL AT DINNER PARTIES, BECAME A MORE PRESENT AND ENGAGED FATHER, LEARNING THAT TRUE PARENTING WASN’T ABOUT APPEARANCES, BUT ABOUT THE REAL, EVERYDAY NEEDS OF HIS CHILD. WE LEARNED A VALUABLE LESSON ABOUT COMMUNICATION, HONESTY, AND THE IMPORTANCE OF LOOKING BEYOND GRAND IDEAS TO THE REALITY OF OUR CHILD’S WELL-BEING.