BEN CONROYis a 15-year-old Dubliner who is educated at home by his father. Having tried a more conventional route, he writes about the joys and the benefits of home schooling
I’M 15 YEARS OLD and studying most of the standard subjects, and a couple of other ones besides. I’m about to go to a two-day seminar on peace studies and conflict resolution with some friends. And I’m also home educated.
Most people I talk to would barely bat an eyelid at those first few statements. Yet when they hear that I don’t go to school, they often do a double-take. Despite the fact that the Irish Constitution enshrines the right to home educate, very little is actually known about it.
I attended primary school from Junior Infants up until the beginning of fourth class, and found the experience completely miserable. I used to dread getting up in the morning, and I was regularly out sick. Looking back on it, the worst part was that I actually preferred the sickness to being in school. None of this was the fault of the school, and I got on extremely well with my classmates, but I just felt crushed by the grinding monotony of the system.
A perfect example of this was the time that I decided to do an extra page of homework, thinking to get it out of the way and finish the book faster. When I showed the extra page to my teacher the next day, you would be forgiven for guessing from her reaction that someone had just been shot. Having naively thought that doing extra work would be encouraged, I was fairly nonplussed when I was set to colouring while the rest of the class caught up, and told in no uncertain terms never to do this again. To my eight-year-old mind at least, this seemed a very strange way of encouraging a love of learning.
I had been begging my parents to homeschool me for years, and after much discussion, not to mention a great deal of trepidation, they agreed.
My father, who works full-time in the home, is my main tutor. He now says, “Within about a week, I realised that we should have done this years ago.”
No, he’s not a qualified teacher (although my mother is), but he’s not only excellent at ensuring that I learn at my own pace, but at making sure that subjects are as interesting as they should be. When studying the Flight of Earls last year, I suddenly stopped and said: “This is really, really fascinating. How exactly did school manage to make history boring?” My father also hated history in school, and now loves it. There’s no doubt that if you’re trying to put the same message across to 30 people with wildly different levels of understanding, a lot gets lost in translation.
There’s no typical day in our house, but on any given day you might find us preparing hydrogen at our kitchen table, doing 60-metre sprints on the local green, or seeing someone squeeze in by one vote on the seventh count of a mock election.
When my parents or I mention to anyone that I’m home educated, usually the first thing that happens (after the double-take) is that the person asks, “What about socialisation?” Despite being a perfectly legitimate enquiry, people involved in home education inevitably react by rolling their eyes. The reason for this would become apparent after about five minutes of attending any of the various Home Education Network (Hen) conferences, meetings and gatherings that are held regularly.
At these events, young people from ages 10 to 20 play games, chat, and generally have a fantastic time. I have more friends now than I ever had in school (some home educated, others not).
I find that the wide variety of ages is much more like real life than always being with people almost exactly the same age as you. In fact, after attending my first Hen conference, my friend Andrew and I set up a social networking website for home educated young people, called CluckCluck. It’s been a huge success; further illustrating the fact that home schooling doesn’t automatically make you socially backward.
One great initiative going on at the moment is a “transition year” style programme being run for home educated people from ages 13 to 16.
An event is organised once a month or so. For example, in February we went to the genetics department in Trinity College Dublin, and saw firsthand some of the work they do there. Of course, plenty of time is always devoted to that most important of subjects, craic. Given all this, the idea that home schooling is somehow bad for socialisation is lunacy.
A recent interesting survey from the Economic and Social Research Institute said that only 39 per cent of Leaving Cert students felt that the school system had boosted their confidence. Speaking for myself, you’d barely recognise me now from my days in school. I’m infinitely happier and more confident, and almost every day I’m grateful for how ridiculously lucky I am. It’s hard to believe that if I lived in Germany, I’d never have had this opportunity. The Nazi-instigated 1938 ban on home schooling was upheld in the European Court of Human Rights in 2006.
But perhaps the most enduring testament to how well home education has worked for us is this: A year after I left school, my two sisters became home educated too, and my brother has never gone to school. It is now five years since this madness began, and we wouldn’t trade it for anything.
Home schooling: the facts and figures
So what's the story with home schooling in Ireland?
Between 1,500 and 2,000 children in Ireland are currently being educated at home.
The right to educate ones children at home in Ireland is enshrined in the constitution. It has always been legal here.
What's the procedure for parents if they decide they wish to educate their children at home?
The first step is to register with the National Education Welfare Board (NEWB).
In order to do this, parents must read the NEWB assessment guidelines which outline the constitutional requirements of a "minimum education" that parents will be required to meet. They then fill out an application form which is submitted to the NEWB.
The NEWB then conducts an in-depth interview about all aspects of the intention to educate a child at home.
After this, registration is either approved or the application is referred for a secondary assessment. The secondary assessment is an in-depth procedure including home visits and so-on. After that the application is either accepted or denied.
How does it work in practice?
It depends. Some families make a formal arrangement about hours and curriculum. Others follow the interests and talents of the child and have a more open-ended approach. Most families will use a combination of these methods.
Does Irish have to be taught?
No. Believe it or not, Irish is not actually a compulsory subject. It is compulsory in most publicly funded schools, but there is no compulsion on anyone providing education for their children at home in Ireland to include Irish.
Do you have to follow the National Curriculum?
No, you can follow any curriculum you want or none at all. It is up to each parent to decide what is most suitable for their children.
How about exams?
It's up to the families involved. Arrangements for the Leaving Certificate or O and A levels can be made through VECs or adult education classes. Junior and Leaving Cert can also be sat at any school by registering with the school in early January of the year that the exams will be taken.
What about third-level?
If a child does not sit State examinations then entry to third-level education in Ireland is difficult. However many home-educated children do sit State exams. Others have aptitudes and skills in areas that do not require a third-level education.
Where can I learn more?
henireland.org – website of the home education network
homeschool-ireland.com – information site
Gráinne Faller
