I found this scribbled as a draft in my email--not because I intended sending it to anyone, of course--and had a laugh. Having finished university and reached an age where people don't immediately ask you where you're studying upon first meeting you, I've almost forgotten having to go through the standard interrogation that used to be part and parcel of making a new acquaintance.
In case you didn't know, I was homeschooled for all of my life, until I entered university. Which is fairly rare in Singapore. So the first time I stepped inside a school was actually as a teacher--assistant speech and drama teacher, actually; it was a holiday job. It was a strange feeling.
If you too were homeschooled, and have any gems to add--by all means!
10 questions every homeschooler gets asked--not an exclusive list, but the most frequent and probably most annoying ones--hence the irritable tone:
1. "But you won't have any friends!" Thank you for assuming you already know my entire social life after hearing that I'm homeschooled. Also, thank you for reinforcing stereotypical homeschooler insecurities and shallow assumptions about school life. Do you know how many schooled friends I've had who always told me that they "didn't have any friends"? I'm afraid, though I might have wallowed in self-pity sometimes in this aspect (something every homeschooler is encouraged to by well-meaning people of this sort) but I've never said that in my life. So there.
2. "So your mother must be a teacher?" Instead of giving a direct answer I like to stump them with "well, she used to teach us but once we got old enough we taught ourselves." Watch their eyes expand. Sometimes they can't think of an answer and then I thankfully turn the conversation to something else.
3. "So you like, play videogames and watch TV at home all the time?" Usually from kids, and usually boys at that. My fingers would itch to give them a good slap but I contented myself with a blistering account of my day ("up at six AM, jogging, breakfast by eight, maths starts at nine...") and watch them wilt in dark satisfaction.
4. "But you don't seem to have any problems functioning socially." (???!!!!! I'm afraid that after a while I got so sick of this one I would just stare at them coldly, struggling with the temptation to say something sarcastic like "Oh no, it's just a disguise I put on. I actually don't know how to shake hands and say hello to new people. Because, you see, being homeschooled, I'm actually alien larvae and I have no idea how to be human." Well, what did you expect? That I would stab you with a butterknife, or not know how to carry on a conversation, because I did my maths at home?)
5. "Shouldn't you be in school?" (especially if they bump into you at odd hours of the day where, based on their expression, all self-respecting and civilized children are in school) I used to get so tired of this that I would resort to white lies--"oh, holiday today, eh, bye!"
6. "But how are you going to get into university/get a job/get married next time?" I have no idea how the 'get married' part even applies to this, but unfortunately it has actually been asked before. Don't ask me how I answered that. I think I managed not to roll my eyes, a feat worth being proud of, which I credit to my mom's stern stance on good manners. Now, I'm so thankful that I can say yes, I went through university, yes, I am earning money and surviving financially, so I'm not quite the social economic failure I was supposed to be. One day if I get married I might send them an invitation just for this
7. "No wonder your English sounds so ang-moh" (read: Westernized. Usually said in an awed, hostile, or suspicious manner. WELL I'M SORRY I'm not a good Singaporean but I'm trying my best to learn Singlish hor.)
8. "Eh, I have a friend who's also homeschooled, do you guys know each other?" Followed by a hopelessly generic name. I try my best to look thoughtful, as if there's a chance I do. We don't actually have secret society meetings or a huge name roll or telepathic impulses, sorry to disappoint.
9. "Eh, but my friend who's also homeschooled doesn't do that." Nope. Not the same. Every homeschooling family--let me repeat--EVERY homeschooling family is different. If not, it's probably a cult of some sort. Maybe we all speak Homeschoolingo--you may hear mysterious terms like "Sonlight," "Apologia," "BJU," "APs," "Saxon Maths," "chores," and "Charlotte Mason" thrown around carelessly; but we all use them differently--or not at all. I've known homeschoolers on one end of the spectrum living highly disciplined lives--some becoming highly productive and amazing, others just suffering miserably. I've also known others who are so lepak, to use a Singlish term, that they get impromptu holidays and may never have taken a standardized exam before. Also to varying degrees of benefit. I think my family fell somewhere in between either so I ought to be in a good position to judge.
10. "Don't you want to go to school?" Well, sometimes, yes. Whenever I felt my schooled friends took their extra curricular activities and opportunities for granted, for example. But overall, no. I'd heard so many horror stories of school, and it wasn't such an unbearable tragedy to have "no friends" as some people thought it was. Assumptions like these always made me go on the defensive--unreasonably so, I admit. What made you so sure that I was dying to go to school, anyway? I always hit back with "don't you want to be homeschooled?" That always made them think for a moment.
And in case you think I sound overly-sensitive and angst-ridden--after a while you get kind of tired of being treated as an exotic alien, and your tolerance level drops alarmingly. It was flattering at first, though. Such is the superficiality of human nature.
Neither was I emotionally scarred or traumatized by any of this--I smiled and lived it down, as any other young person growing up doubtless has many cringeworthy moments. So no pity, please. Have a good laugh. Don't be one of these people, well-meaning as they were. And please, whatever you do, don't pretend you know all about it. One of my earliest disillusionments with adults happened when a young dentist asked me which school I went to. Shyly I said, "Homeschooled," and he replied brightly, "Oh, I know that school; my cousin went there." I remember looking up at him, small and lost in the dentist chair, and feeling more exasperated than an eight-year-old ought to be with an adult.