The Socialization Question

Curious. Or just hungry

Ben, do any well-meaning relatives or even just casual passers-by ever worry you about the “socialization question” for your boys? Reading this post makes me smile, in regards to it. I have 6 children, all homeschooled through high school (3 still at home) and I’ve heard it for the past 20+ years, that question, that is. We live on an acreage (a remote mile from town) so that further confounds the issue. The thing is, God (I’ll not use the creator label, so as not to offend) :) brings a steady stream of interesting folks into our lives (like Dan and Nate) that keep my kids (and me) learning how to relate with others. Serendipity. It’s a beautiful thing, really, though one must relax a bit and not be a control freak, to enjoy it.

Jeez, the timing of Amy’s question is uncanny. I’ve been thinking a lot about the forthcoming launch of Home Grown and the questions I’ll inevitably field and how I want to answer those questions. The socialization issue is a biggie. Or at least, other parents perceive it to be a biggie. It’s right up there with “what if your kids want to go to college?” Or “what if they end up degenerate hill farmers like you?” 

I’ve talked about socialization in bits and pieces in the space before, but perhaps it’s time to go toe-to-toe with it, in no small part because it’ll help me get my thoughts straight which, as Penny would tell you, is no small matter.

When I get the “socialization question” (as I inevitably do), I’ve learned to ask for clarification. Is the questioner asking if my children interact with other people? Or are they asking whether or not my children are becoming socialized to a particular set of cultural mores. After all, that’s what “socialization” really means. Wikipedia defines it as the life long process of inheriting and disseminating norms, customs and ideologies.

I’ve found that most people haven’t actually thought about this distinction. To them, being social and becoming socialized are one and the same. To Penny and me, they are drastically different. We do want our boys to be social, and not just with their peer group. We want them to have friends who are younger, who are of similar ages, and who are much older. This is one of our chief complaints with the social order of school, which is that it places children in homogenous communities of like-aged children and furthermore demotes adults to the role of rule-maker and enforcer, rather than true mentors.

It’s not the adults shouldn’t be making rules for children – we make all sorts of rules for the boys, though whether or not we adequately enforce them is perhaps open to debate. But when children view the adults in their lives primarily through the lens of rule making and enforcement (and let’s face it: That is how most children view most teachers [I said most, not all]), it becomes extremely difficult for mutually respectful relationships to develop. In these circumstances, the child is being socialized, no question. He or she is inheriting norms, customs and ideologies. The question is, to what end?

I’ve mentioned this before, but my snarky reply to the question “aren’t you worried about socialization?” used to be “Absolutely. That’s why we keep them home.” It’s still a valid reply, but I’ve come to be more interested in talking about the distinction between being social and being socialized, which is why I now ask for clarification.

The boys’ social life isn’t perfect. They wish for more friends who share their nature-based interests. Finding these children has been an on-going struggle for Penny and me. Even in rural Vermont, there is a dearth of young people who want to spend the majority of their time out-of-doors. Even among the boys’ home and unschooling friends, there are video games and computer screens aplenty, and it is striking to me how rare it is to see children outside beyond the contest of organized sports, even during the scant weeks of summer vacation. Likewise, many of the boys’ friends are scheduled to the hilt with sports and other “extracurricular” activities, and Fin and Rye are sometimes frustrated that everyone is so busy all the time. But when we ask them if they’d prefer to participate in these activities with their peers, understanding that this would inevitably reduce the amount of time allocated to woods wandering or other projects or time with their non-peer friends and mentors, they are resolute: Not a chance.

Still, like Amy (and as I’ve mentioned quite recently), we consider ourselves blessed almost beyond belief by the stream of interesting people that come into our lives. And we are grateful that our choices around our sons’ education provide them opportunity to develop meaningful relationships with these people. Last week, they spent a day making birch bark baskets with Nate. On Monday, Erik came, and he and Rye disappeared into the woods for the morning. Today, a small group of unschoolers will gather here to work on projects of-the-hand, and the boys will inevitably lead their young buddies Amelia and Leo on a wilderness romp. Tonight, we’ll go down to Melvin and Janet’s to help with chores. In a few minutes, at a time when most children their age are sitting at desks that might or might not offer a view to the world beyond the classroom’s walls, my boys will move their goats to pasture for the day. Penny and I will hear them calling “come on, Flora, come on, Midnight.” Socializing with goats. Heck, there’s worse company to keep.

Finally, I’ll leave you with a very short excerpt from Home Grown that addresses another downside of school-based socialization. Even if there were no other social benefits to keeping them at home, the following would be reason enough for us to chart a different path.

I find tremendous comfort in the knowledge that Fin and Rye are not burdened by the expectations of their peer group. No one tells them their pants are funny, so they unself-consciously wear the clothing Penny brings home from thrift stores: faded jeans, frayed jackets, socks with floral prints. No one tells them they’re too fat or too skinny, too short or too tall, too slow or too weak, so they do not regard their physical characteristics and capabilities as being either flawed or lacking flaws, and I rarely hear them speak of others in these terms. No one tells them they should have a particular cell phone, or that they should watch a particular television show or movie, so they are free of the burden of desire for things they do not need or want.