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This stereotype has affected me numerous times. One day, my friend and I were taking
Photo credit: Liam S., Louisville, KY
“Do you ever wish you could go to real school?” she asked.
“I do go to a real school, thank you very much.” I tried not to sound annoyed.
“You don’t get out much, do you?”
“I get out plenty.”
“Do you know what prom is?”
“Yes, I’m going to mine this spring.” I sighed thankfully as a voice boomed over the loudspeaker, signaling the start of the test.
Last summer one of my coworkers, who was in college, asked what grade I was in and what school I went to.
I answered. “Don’t you get tired of sitting at home all day?” she asked, blankly.
I sighed. It was too late; her view of me was already tainted. I could tell she thought I was naive and immature.
“So do you have any friends?” she asked.
“Of course!” My sarcastic self wanted to say something about a hermit, but I decided to stick to the facts and not let my big mouth get me in trouble.
People’s reactions are beginning to annoy me. I used to dread being asked where I go to school. I would do almost anything to avoid the question. I was afraid I would get stuck in the homeschooler stereotype: long hair, dresses, 16 kids in the family, never heard of Britney Spears, never been to a mall, just sit at home and knit all day. I’m not super smart, and I don’t have a learning disability. However, as I near the end of high school, and reflect on almost 10 years of being homeschooled, I realize that I shouldn’t be afraid of the stereotype; I should redefine it.
You see, I have two sisters: one is attending a public high school, the other goes to the local community college. I play lacrosse and basketball, and my best friend and I will be starting driver’s ed soon. One of my other close friends attends a local high school. I go the mall almost as often as I brush my teeth. I love rock music. I was shocked at Jamie Lynn’s pregnancy. I love McDonald’s double cheeseburgers and hate Starbucks coffee. I write poetry. I hate algebra. I have a MySpace. My toenails are lime-green, my hair is shoulder-length, and I want dreadlocks. I help run a coffee house for high school bands. Oh, and my best friend, who is also homeschooled, received a full Division I college scholarship for soccer.
I’m not handing out this information to prove that I am just like you; I want you to see that you are just like me. I don’t live in a different world than other high schoolers. I only choose to be homeschooled.
Recently a coworker asked the question and seemed surprised with my answer. “You’re homeschooled?” he asked, shocked. I smiled. That’s the message I want to send. I want to show them what a homeschooler is really like: any other teenage girl.
JessB.
Nissa M.
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