All 30 students grabbed their book bags and ran to the door. After the last student left, I slowly walked to the classroom door and locked it. Craving silence, beyond the norm of the silent hallway—albeit temporary, I reached over and switched the lights off. Then, grabbing my coat—I covered my head with it, melted into the desk chair and lowered my head.
No lunch today, no eating, no thinking, no crying, no . . . anything. Just silence . . . please. Yet, the ringing of Bloom’s Taxonomy persisted in my mind: create, evaluate, analyze, apply, understand, and remember. How? How? How? Unrealistic! Unrealistic!
My soul felt as though a steamroller was mooshing the life out of me, back and forth, over and over.
Surely, it will get better I assured myself. ‘It takes at least two years to get in the groove of a new job,’ I doubly assured myself. Wrong. There was something really, really wrong—beyond getting in a groove or . . . getting better.
I lasted two years in public education.
Keep in mind, I worked for an excellent school district where I had the honor of working with overworked and under-appreciated saints/teachers who entered this whole idea of teaching with the same dreams as myself.
What does this have to do with homeschooling?
Well, really . . . quite a lot.
Given the expectation of 25-30 students to 1 teacher per period (125 students per day), I realized in this arena, I couldn’t make Bloom grow.
Thus, out of sheer practicality, self-preservation, or maybe my heart just couldn’t lock out what I knew beyond question. Basic truths. Basic truths about the learner—and it was really bugging me . . . in my soul.
This was the primary reason I decided to become a home educator.
Now, I could focus on what the learner wanted, needed, and expected in order to bloom:
- A safe, relational, and consistent setting with their teacher
- Consistent standard of accountability measures supported by the parent
- Learner-centered curriculum with personalized inquiry strategies