Thursday, September 20, 2012

Educating Girls


I’m having radical thoughts on education. So radical they might make me sexist. Or at least seriously old-fashioned.

I have three daughters and one son. At least one of these daughters shows strong signs of wanting to be a wife and mother. (Especially if babies just fell from the sky with nothing “gross” or painful involved.) It’s not hard for her to find role models. The great majority of women we know are, or were, wives and moms. And yet I can only think of a couple of these women who are working full time outside the home; even in those cases, it’s not often by choice. One of my good friends has a medical degree, which she uses frequently at home and not-so-frequently in the world beyond. She spent years—not to mention lots and lots of dollars—pursuing her education while knowing that she really wanted to be a wife and mother, too.

My friend and I, and most of the women I know, are products of the Great Lie of the 70’s and 80’s: “You can have it all!” We believed it and gave it our best shot, only to realize that while you might be able to have it all, you won’t do it all well. And you’ll be so tired that you can’t even think straight. Something had to give. Some women gave up the job and began the hard work of making ends meet with just one paycheck. Some tied a key around their children’s necks and convinced themselves that the kids were better off with a satisfied Landrover-driving mom than a stifled stay-at-home mom. Some stayed on the job out of desperation and cried themselves to sleep thinking of some other woman holding their baby all day long. Some dads moved home or found creative solutions to fill in the gaps. And some of us were lucky enough to do our work from home.

So what if the next step in the education of girls—and boys, too, for that matter—is helping them find a trade they can do at home? I’m not talking about girls who know they want to be doctors and lawyers and rocket scientists and have the drive and patience to make it happen. I’m talking about girls who believe early on that their first calling is to be a wife and mother. Is it wise to send these girls off to pursue a four-year (or more) degree that can only be used in the outside professional world? Would it be more helpful and practical to encourage them toward something they can do at home? Traditional things like sewing and giving music lessons, but also things like accounting, graphic design, computer programming, book editing. Some of these require a college degree, but not one that costs $200,000.

And going a step further, as we’re divvying up whatever money we have to educate our children, is it inherently wrong to put more money in our son’s pile? Does it make us sexist to believe, even in the 21st century, that he’ll most likely be the primary breadwinner in his family and that our daughters will not? Is this archaic thinking, or just a practical function of how many evangelicals think and raise their children? And if it’s the latter, why don’t we talk more about it?

If any of my kids is chomping at the bit for a certain kind of education, I hope we’ll be able to help them get it. But getting a degree just for the sake of getting a degree? Because it’s what everyone does in our circles? Because we want them to be well-rounded individuals? I’m not sure that’s the answer. There are a lot of ways to become well-rounded. A wiser choice to me seems to be helping them discover early on what they’re good at, what they love, and how they can earn money from it in ways that may be unconventional. It seems helpful to find people who are already doing those things and shadow them. I’ve always argued that none of the skills I use to do my job were learned in a classroom; they came from real-life experiences and sitting at the feet of good mentors. They were also free and didn’t consume years of my life.

I'm glad I have years ahead before these questions need to be answered, but for now, I think they at least need to be asked.  

Monday, September 10, 2012

13 Down, 13 To Go


It’s hard to say what I love most about my kids’ school, but probably it’s that kids get to be kids as long as they should be. Homework is never emphasized over family time, sixth graders aren’t obsessed with cell phones and boyfriends, and kindergartners go to school four mornings a week. Some parents struggle with that last one, and I’ll admit there have been times when I was ready to launch my five-year old much more quickly into the world of full-time school. But not this time. This time I’m so thankful I have one more year before Life As I Know It changes. One more year to transition out of the Little Kid Years and enter a new stage. One more year before I become that woman standing in her kitchen at 8:30 in the morning saying, “What do I do now?”

Empty-nester moms get all the press, but kids-in-school moms, at least those who don’t work outside the home, face a similar question of identity and purpose. When Camryn starts first grade next year, I will have spent 14 years wiping bottoms, pouring juice, reading books, singing songs, and teaching my little kids how to be big kids. I’ll have another 12 ahead of working with my big kids on how to be adults—and I’ll also have a whole lot more free time. This thrills my soul, but I want to be intentional about how I use it.

I could easily fill that time with exercise, Bible study, and meeting with friends, all things I love. I could increase my freelance business, which I love, or find a part-time job. I could throw myself into service and volunteer my hours away, which I would love. I could redirect my nurturing and get a puppy—love puppies!—and plant a garden. And let me say right here that I am aware of the huge luxury it is to even be able to ponder how I’ll spend my time. The vast majority of the world doesn’t have that option. To me, that’s all the more reason to be intentional and not careless with it.

What I can’t do is do it all. And so I feel like this year is a gift to me. Not only do I get these sweet days with Camryn, but I have the luxury of getting to pray and plan for the next 12 years of my life. This will be the year I say “no” so that next year I can begin saying “yes” to the right things. 

Are you saying "yes" to the right things? Are you investing your time intentionally or spending it carelessly? Something to think about as we all tear through our days.