Home-schooling in the modern world: Success of home-schooled children

By Shaunti Feldhahn Syndicated Columnist

Like many critics, I used to feel vaguely sorry for home-schooled kids. What a shame, I thought, that they might be deprived of the well-rounded education and social skills to become integrated, productive members of society. I never thought to question why cafeteria food fights or the predatory pack habits of teenage girls would be better for molding productive members of society.

This uninformed, critical opinion lasted precisely until I met my first home-schooled children several years ago. Within one month I met five home-schooling families, and their 13 children were among the most polite, well-adjusted, socially adept and academically advanced kids I'd ever seen. Being home-educated seemed to have given them a confidence and maturity — and yes, social skill — far beyond their years. They had many friends, but didn't seem dependent on their peers for approval — a far cry from what I remember as a kid.

I've since learned that these kids were not the home-schooling exception but the rule, which makes me wonder how anyone could look at the data and say it deprives kids of anything. In a landmark study by Dr. Brian Ray of the National Home Education Research Institute, among 7,000 young adults who had been home-schooled, 74 percent had attained some college courses, compared with just 46 percent of other young adults — and 82 percent said they would home-school their own kids. On the social front, almost twice as many home-schooled adults as those in the general population were active in their community (71 percent to 37 percent) and "very happy" with life (59 percent to 28 percent).

In 1998, a Home School Legal Defense Association's study of 20,760 home-school students found that: "In every subject and at every grade level (on standardized tests), home-school students scored significantly higher than their public and private school counterparts." Younger home-schoolers performed one grade level higher than their public and private school counterparts, and by eighth grade, "the average home-school student performs four grade levels above the national average."

Obviously, home education doesn't fit every family. But the evidence makes me think it's the kids who aren't home-schooled who may be missing out, not the other way around.
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A recent article in the New York Times "Home Schoolers Do Not Just Stay Home" gives a picture of what modern home schooling looks like in practice, and how museums across the USA have developed programs for home schoolers.
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This Infographic on the realties of home schooling can be viewed here: http://offers.degreesearch.org/infographics/homeschooling-by-the-numbers/


The Home Advantage Infographic can be viewed here:
http://www.coursehero.com/blog/2011/09/08/infographic-the-home-advantage/

Still Swede.

Being busy with three kids and a lot of travel adventures, as well as some grumpy feelings about plagarism of the blog name, photo ideas, and some content have kept me off the blog circuit.

But....I am returning from a long USA trip, and my dear friend has made me swear if I am going back, I will at least show her how it is going.

So expect me back once again!

But help me out...is this a mom blog, a Sweden blog, an expat blog, a midwife blog, a food blog, or a waldorf blog? I have periodically been of the mind to tighten it up and limit my ramblings to a more concise topic. Seeing other people take my blog name and my ideas and bring them to outlets like The Local and Sweden.se makes me wonder if I should do the same. So far this blog is just me and my not very well orchestrated thoughts off handly whipped out in a quick unartful post on stolen time between nap time and dinner time.

What do you think I ought to do?

Santa Lucia Day in Sweden

December 13th, Sweden celebrates the return on the light by honoring Santa Lucia.

This is our second Lucia in Sweden. Before the Julian calendar, solstice fell near the time Lucia is celebrated. The practice of having a young girl dress as Lucia is actually a newish way of observing the return of the light, but the idea of welcoming the sun's return amongst the darkest days of winter is older than anyone can say for sure.

We prepared by having Swededaddy, the Swede of the house, bake some gluten free pepparkakor cookies with the girls.

I made egg nog, my traditional American holiday drink, to sip as we baked.

SwedeGirl is a great baker, and even the little one enjoyed stamping out cookies with Swededaddy's help.

They came out very nice, ready for Lucia morning!

We celebrated Lucia on Sunday morning the 12th, so it would be on a slow unhurried weekend day instead of Monday. SwedeGirl set her alarm, got out of bed and arranged a plate of cookies, and dressed her self, and came singing into our room, waking us. We were amazed and honored to see Lucia! She had to take off her crown to show us, 'Mom, it's ME!!!!' Boy, she was good and fooled us, we thought Lucia had really come.

We took a drive to Farmor's-grandma's so Lucia could visit.

I am obsessed with photographing the sun, and there is no way I can capture how bright and white the light is when it shines over a field of snow, but I keep trying.

Lucia brought cookies, and Light

My cookie monsters think the best part of Lucia is the Pepparkakor!!

At Farmor's we found a picture of a Lucia Procession Swededaddy had painted as a child. So nice to see my girls being part of the tradition from his childhood!

On Lucia day, there was a event at school but the girls felt like staying home, and after a busy weekend I did not object, so they skipped the school Lucia. We planned to go to a church Lucia in the village church that night, and SwedeGirl decided that was enough for her.

Soft fluffy crystal snow flakes, the kind where you can really see all six sides fell as we entered the church, while the bells chimed.

The light from the street shone through the stained glass of the church window, making magical colors in the entryway

A nearby sign reminded us the church dates back to the 1500's

Lucia and her procession entered and sang their Songs

We returned home and it was still quite early. I had lamb stew with a holiday beer as part of the broth waiting for us, and had some ris gröt, glögg, and pepparkakor for desert. We put on some Christmas music and had a very cozy evening at home with a fire in the fire place, decorating the tree.

Happy Lucia, welcome the light!

Beautiful Morning

It's Tomte Time

Christmas in Sweden means looking out for ways to celebrate the little tomte- gnomes named for the land- who purportedly look like these guys. They live outdoors, usually in the barn, and can make mischief for you if not treated to the occasional bowl of rice pudding or other acknowledgment of their service to your family.

The Tomte embody the Christmas spirit in Sweden.

This is only our second year in Sweden for Christmas, since last year we took pappaledig and returned to USA for Thanksgiving to Valentine's day. But we learned one thing our first year, and that is that the big build up to Christmas with Christmas markets and other charming events happens early.

I returned to Sweden Dec 2nd, and the regional Christmas event calendar showed there were just a few markets and events left on the schedule. Determined to get a dose of tomte style Swedish Christmas charm in, we planned to head to a old viking fortress where there was an event that touted old fashioned Swedish Christmas merriment in a historic setting with a good restaurant. The program promised baking papparkakor on a wood hearth, instruction on creating traditional southern Swedish straw ornaments, story telling for children, and dancing around a Christmas tree. We headed to the said destination only to find it was closed due to the weather. It was no short drive to get there, and we were disappointed. It felt a little like when Chevy Chase arrives to find WallyWorld closed in the movie 'Vacation'.

But fresh off ten hours of airline delays on my return to Sweden, I was feeling either crazed or unfazed by delays. We decided to pursue merriment anyway, and proceeded to head across the region to the other event we had considered, a Christmas celebration at a cultural museum. Very far away. We got there at sunset, which is only at 3:30, after all.

This would have been fine but we found it was an outdoor event, and while we had the required clothes, mostly, we lacked two things that would bring our outing to an early end- one mitten for the toddler, and a stroller. The event was spread over acreage, and this created the problem of traveling mileage. After spending the last few weeks in only a diaper or swimsuit, and swimming in warm pools, SwedeBaby was a bit indignant about the multiple layers of clothing immobilizing her, her one very cold hand, and being squeezed into the baby carrier with all her layers and mine compressing her, and then being carted around for three hours with only a slit of a view between her hat and my coat.

But our time at the museum did start off sweet. We had a little Swedish style dance around a Christmas tree with a musician alternating between a fiddle and an accordion.

It is funny that the midsommar songs for the maypole dances are also used for the Christmas tree. But there were many new ones, too. Swedegirl was an enthusiastic participant in the dances.

A song about a pig, in Swedish pigs say 'gnuff gnuff gnuff'- at midsummer this song is a classic, but is usually about a small frog. This fiddler does a frighteningly accurate pig sound at the end of the song.

Sometime after the dancing the break down began, but we did get to observe some wood fired baking in at this little hut.

A band with accordion, drums, and a fiddle came in and sang songs, and cheered the increasingly grumpy toddler up for a bit.

I was hoping to get some tips on making these types of typical Skåne straw ornaments....

We had a nice stop in a old farm mill house for Glögg and Pepparkakor. There were hay bales for seating, and a fire to warm our hands. This was tomte spotting territory for sure. But it was also the end of the road. We cajoled the children to let us trek to the old farm house area, where there was music, candle dipping, straw ornament making, and other demonstrations of Christmas crafting from times past. But there was a long line to get a turn to go in the small building, and the toddler reached full volume of protest at this point. I think she may have been wondering where the hot tub went, and why she was being compressed like a waffle in a waffle iron between the layers of clothing and the baby carrier.

We grabbed some home baked cookies from one of the many booths we did not have time to browse, to bribe the children to make it to the car with minimal whining, and called it a day. Once comfortably warm and reasonably dressed and in her car seat, SwedeBaby returned to her sweet natured self and enjoyed the cookies. SwedeDaddy and I were a bit worse for the wear after the crying, but satisfied with having made a day's tour de Skåne and wishing we had a bit more glögg to warm us on the drive home. I was grateful that this was a side of our girl she only revealed when truly and reasonably uncomfortable, and that I had made it through the one parent overseas flights with two happy kids.

My Provincial Swedish (so called) Life

Living 30 minutes outside of the city with no job or friends, I could really just show photos of corn and mushrooms all the time. But I will find something else besides how my garden grows to blog about, and actually write a post.

Yesterday we celebrated Father's Day, as we had skipped observing American Father's day this summer because we were traveling. Our own Father's Day was also a way to mark the end of my husband's father leave, or pappaledig. He has been off work since June, and we had the whole summer together as a family. In Sweden we get 480 days of paid leave per child. We had one child here March 2009, and moved when my first daughter was 3 1/2. We get the full 480 days for her as well, which we can use until she is 7. But now we have used all the leave for the child born here, thus the celebration, and my husbands return to work.

The sleep-in morning plus a nap, waffles with strawberries and whipped cream, balloon-and- banner royal treatment for Fathers day

And come next sometime February to Mid March, our third baby will arrive, bringing another 480 days of leave. Yes, it is that time again for my French press to be filled daily with my favorite mix of dried herbs, to make the same pregnancy tea I was drinking when SwedeBaby was born.

Sweden is a great place to have babies. After working in birth in the USA, where the outcomes are the worst in the developed world, and the medical system (especially in regards to birth) is a god awful wrecked mess , it was a relief to birth in sane, safe Sweden. But I have not been able to work here. Sweden does not recognize my education or ten years running my own birth center, so I am unemployed. Mostly that has been great, as between pregnancy and being immersed in new baby hood, and all the travel we have done with all that pappaledig, I have been happy to not have 50 pregnant women calling at all hours of the night like they did back in the day. I have been plenty busy exploring Sweden and figuring out where to buy chocolate chips and other hard to find items I miss from home . So busy I have not worked on my Swedish hardly at all. Which does nothing to make me feel like this is my real, long term life. It is my so called life.

There are so many reasons it has been good to be here. But I am feeling especially lonely and home sick since coming back from our summer trip. My creative energy was bound up trip planning. We stretched the limits of budget travel and via home exchange and by eating lots of oatmel, we saw the south of France, the Ligurian coast, the islands near Venice, the hills of Italy, lounged in volcanic thermal pools near Capri, ate gelato at Trevini fountain in Rome, and toured the magical Neuscwhannstein castle of the Alps. All by driving the distance that in the USA would take me from Florida to Washington DC. Now the trip is over and my mind is free to look to the future once more, and I am wondering what life will bring next. So when thinking to the next baby, we are planning how we can use the pappaledig time to set us all up to be living the life we want. If we can figure out what that would be.

We said we were moving to Sweden for three years, and we would see how everyone was doing. That date comes up next summer, and I can feel the questioning of 'So, how are we doing?' burning inside.

It is a question every American who marries a Swede, or anyone who lives in one place but has a foot in another country has to constantly live with. I have a American friend here 7 years who is growing unsettled by the conformity Sweden asks of her exceptional children, a sister in law that just moved to Sweden from Washington DC, a new friend about to move here, a blogger I read who is just plotting her return, and a friend married to a Swede living back home in the Sunshine State. Each of us living with all the questions that come when you are living a great life, with an alternate dream life elsewhere.

So I am looking at Sweden with the eyes you have when you come back from a big trip, and are relieved to see home. And with the eyes of someone who is living a temporary, lovely experimental, so called life. And with the eyes of someone who misses her family, and her friends. So I am simply trying to keep them open. And my heart open.

I mostly put up pictures these days, have little time or inclination to write much since having baby #2. But let me share a few random things I could write long blog posts about but never have....

This is the food truck. I hear there was a documentary made about it. It comes down out street every Saturday just before noon. Not too early, not too late, just the right time to get any brunch ingredients you may not have on hand for the weekend.

It has a whole mini grocery store in it. We try to patronize the food truck whenever we have the chance, as we want it to keep coming. It is frequented by the elderly people on our street who come here to their little houses they still have as weekend and vacation cottages, the few houses not yet converted into regular suburban homes that harken back to the time this was a place people only came to escape the city. One little old lady from the neighborhood who lives nearby used to buy my little girl a treat each time she saw her on the truck. The lady has now moved to the village center so she can have more help for her sick husband. The food truck, a little part of my old fashoned, provincial so called life in Sweden. ~

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Today I began getting my 18 month old settled into her part time day care, and my girl went back to her sweet little Waldorf school. We will pay about $1800 this YEAR for for 25 hours of private Waldorf school for the girls. In Florida, it would be less hours and cost $15,400 for a year for both girls. If they still go to this school when primary school aged, it will be free. It would cost $30,000 annually to send both of the children to Waldorf school in the USA for the grades....an amount equal to an decent annual salary.

When I picked up my big girl at 4pm it was cold, gray, and and she was outside in a rain suit rolling down a hill over and over with her friends. She was breathless, sweaty, and happy. If she was in the USA, she would be in a classroom all day, with state mandated goals, and worksheets for homework every night, an no time to play and certainly no hills to play on in the rain. I really think it is healthy to wait until kids are seven to start school as they do in Sweden. I could go on and on about that point. But suffice to say I am happy my girl has a chance to wiggle, dig, explore, and lives in a place where people believe there is no such thing as bad weather, only inadequate clothing.

After school we stopped at the grocery store. The big nice one a village over with a better selection than our local store. When you walk in, there is a TV playing Winnie the Pooh movies and kid sized table and chairs.... you are invited to just leave your kid at the door watching TV while you shop!!!

Never, oh never would this happen in the USA. When we were home in winter, I had to tighten my girls roaming radius in public to conform with American standards for fear of kidnapping. Even so, I had her returned to me as 'lost' once when she was in view an aisle over at a thrift store. The sense of safety and freedom for children in Sweden is one of the things I like. Kids ride their bikes, and take public transportation everywhere. In my town in the USA there is not a single child to be found on the street.

The big sister got to sit while we shopped, little sister just got in the picture when I paused for a photo.

Did I say I could skip writing and just put up pictures of wilderness, produce, and mushrooms? Well it is true.

Because these grow here.

Saw this one on the street on the way to the food truck this weekend.

So Elsa Beskow

And after picking corn we drove through the forest and stopped to see mushroom after mushroom on the forest floor in Hackeberga Nature reserve.

A fairy condo development

This one is called 'Chicken of the Woods' and is edible. But being pregnant, I am not taking up mushrooming just now...a bad time to make an beginner's error, so I will take photos for now...

So much to love about Sweden.

And so many minutes to spend thinking about it in this quiet, so called life.

Midsommar on an Old Traditional Farm

We gathered for our last Midsommar celebration at a old farm where none of the buildings have been moved from their original site. Dalarna is full of old buildings, old log farm houses, but many of the farms have buildings that have been rearranged or moved.

This family home site was inhabited until the 1970's by a old man who took the position that he was born here and would die here, even when the king came to visit him to ask him to move out so it could be used as a historical site. The old buildings are examples of the construction and lifestyle of people dating back at least top the 1600s. There was a church service and a maypole raising, with our favorite fiddler troupe.

Having fika, or coffee and cakes, is a tradition as Swedish as the maypole itself.

Swedegirl finds friends whereever she goes, they went off to pick flowers for wreathes during the church service

The interior of one of the old houses

The hearth

A birthing stool!

The sleeping arrangment.

Beds of linen covered straw behind curtains in the one main room.

A woven baby bassinet basket

A first! A baby back carrier, old style. I did not know there were european back baby carrier. It has buckle straps, made of leather, and is decorated with leather hearts and stars. An ergo or beco, traditional style.

Sister in law and my SwedeBaby

The bounty of flowers Swedegirl and her new found friend picked

Raising the Maypole

She loves to find a friend wherever she goes. She loves to dance holding hands with the other little girls