I kinda lied. I suggested in the last piece that I’d never gone to therapy. Which is not entirely true. I went to the student counseling center in college for eight free sessions. (Maybe it was ten. That would’ve been nice of them.) Not because I’d been homeschooled and was still recovering from the trauma, but because I was really, really, really stressed out about getting into grad school.
My counselor, a young Californian with generously proportioned piercings in both ears and a soft, loving voice, smiled comfortingly and a little awkwardly at me through our first several sessions. I tried to find out what therapeutic school he fell into, but he seemed unhindered by any formal background in historical and current methods. He just wanted to listen to people, because people need to be heard. They need to be loved. I asked him if he was concerned that he might misunderstand a patient’s situation, that he might exacerbate a problem rather than assuage it. Nope. He felt fine.
I thought he was funny. I liked that he didn’t care about traditional techniques. I liked that he trusted himself and I thought I might be able to learn something from the tone of his voice. But when we got to the inevitable bit about me having been homeschooled, all hell broke loose.
This was an abnormality so excitingly self-evident that it couldn’t be missed even by someone who had skipped out on most of his abnormal psych classes to chill with the homeless and learn firsthand about human suffering and endurance. I really hadn’t wanted to tell him. I knew from the sudden alertness in his usually placid eyes that this information would be the focal point of the rest of our sessions.
Leaning forward, he asked, “Why did your parents decide to homeschool you?”
I thought, “Here we go.” I said, “They were uncomfortable with the effects of peer pressure on children in school.” One of my usual lines. There’s some psychology for you, buddy.
“Hmm. So your mother taught you at home?” (They always assume it’s the mother, of course.)
It was over. I was going to have to sound smarter and more confident than I felt. I would have to be on the defensive, careful to produce an image of a well-adjusted, successful, and socially talented young woman. It was a reflex. And it was made worse by the fact that I felt so vulnerable, which was why I was there in the first place. I was feeling distinctly less than all of those wonderful things I had gotten good at projecting. But I couldn’t let him pathologize homeschooling. He was busily tracing everything back to homeschooling, and I was frantically deflecting, throwing up shields in every direction.
He was saying, “Mmhmm…That must’ve been difficult for you….Not having friends…”
“Wait, wait. I didn’t say I didn’t have friends.”
“Oh, but you must’ve been alone a lot.”
“Well, yeah…but because I chose to. It was my choice.”
“Mmmhmm…So how many friends would you say you had as a child?”
He had learned the secret, and he wasn’t going to let it go. I was responsible, as I’d always been, for representing my mother, my life, and every homeschooler everywhere. It was a lot of responsibility. And it became even more important that I got into an amazing graduate program at an amazing school, so that I could tell my counselor. Even when I ran into him in the parking lot and discovered that he drove a feminine colored mini cooper with a bumper sticker extolling veganism, I didn’t feel much better. Maybe he was a hippie, but I was a pyschological freak.
(source)
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Wild fun list: Hang something that’s not even close to a picture on your wall. I did this with old tin ceiling tiles. They look awesome.
P.S. To the creepy robots that keep sending me messages like “Verily, it seems to be most blanket that the weblog of your creation continues to provide the net with much to be celebrated” in the hopes that I will click on their link for XXXmotorcyclepornchicks— STOP. PLEASE. YOU’RE KILLING ME.
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Finally made the leap from ETDC to Un-schooled, and glad I did! Sometimes we therapists look very hard for a clue, for the one thing that will explain the person before us. This is a huge mistake, and it can be very disempowering and invasive for the person sitting across from us. It reduces a complex and powerful experience to a few details which are probably not even that relevant.
I remember when my neighbors first told me they were homeschooling their kids. I didn’t even know how to respond, because doing so seemed unexpected and unusual. Now it is more common (at least in progressive Santa Fe where the schools are generally B-A-D), and I am feel less surprised when I hear about it. In fact, there are many reasons why I think homeschooling is much preferably to classroom schooling. Anyway, glad to know of this blog so that I can continue to learn (or really un-learn) about the process and what it entails.
I think I’d probably have the same tendency as a therapist. Can’t really blame the guy.
What sort of practice do you have?
Yeah, when my family started out, it was a much bigger deal. Thanks for coming over here!
GAH!
that just made my blood boil, and than again, I’ve known a few GEMS in the therapy world.
what a lot of pressure to have to deal with! Overcoming the whatever imagry homeschoolers provoke in humanity.
I went to mainstream school. I bet you had more friends than I did. Bet you still do!
xoxox
Not to be intrusive or anything- but what did he conclude about your stress with grad school admissions and your life as a home-schooler?
Honestly, I’m not sure. I don’t think it was anything striking. I vaguely remember something along the lines of “You feel constant pressure to prove yourself because you’re in an alien environment.” Which wouldn’t have been wrong. But then, college is new for everyone.
Damn.. how.. insightful. Well, at least they were complimentary sessions, eh?
Oh, jeez, what is the deal with people thinking that *being homeschooled* is the root of any and every problem any and every homeschooler has?! Because public school is sooo much healthier for a developing individual?! Gah. Oh, and I’m with A Sparkle A Day here: I bet you had more friends as a homeschooler than I do as a high schooler (your # to zip).
One thing, though, just a minor thing: why should the fact that he’s vegan have made you less concerned with his judgments? I’m sorry, I’m just being nitpicky here, I know you probably didn’t mean anything by it, but that paragraph kind of just has an offensive “vegans are all snooty hippies” feel to it… 🙁
Maybe you’re just used to people criticizing veganism? 🙂
I meant, he is clearly different from other people, because of his veganism. Just as I am clearly different from other people, because of my education. And also, it was ironic that he, as someone who has made these sensitive, educated, radical, hippie life choices was so sure that the sensitive, educated, radical, hippie life choice my family and I made was unhealthy.
Aha, yep, I won’t deny that I’m probably hypersensitive to criticism of veganism. I see what you meant now though — thanks for clearing that up. He actually sounds like “the vegan stereotype”, and it’s rare that “the vegan stereotype” actually exists. 😛 But yes, that is very ironic.
(Also, I should probably develop a sense of humor about such thing, because by being all “stop making fun of us vegans!” I’m kinda perpetuating the stereotype of The Monster Vegan. :P)
Aww…I know what it’s like to feel defensive about your identity! I’ve been defending myself for a long time. I’m finally, finally reaching a point when I can make fun of myself a little more. I’m gonna just keep making fun of myself until I get used to it 🙂