This week’s guest post on Education comes from Erica
from Expatria Baby. I stumbled
across Erica's blog via the 52 Series, Stella's hair grabbed my attention (oh
how I love a redhead child), however, it
was Erica's writing style the got me hooked. Erica always makes
me feel as if we are chatting in the same room. Make sure you pop
over to Erica's blog and Facebook page
and give her lots of love.
Our little nomadic family is
currently based in a gigantic South East Asian metropolis where educational
choices abound. There’s a long list of private schools that my daughter could
attend, each following a different national curriculum, guided by a unique
educational philosophy, and using different languages of instruction.
Come August next year, I
could send my girl to one of the very
best school in all of South East Asia . And I could do this for free.
But I’m not going to.
Instead, my girl will
continue to attend a small Montessori-ish kindergarten where she currently
attends preschool. It is not, by any means, the best school in the city. She
won’t get the very best education there. She won’t have access to interactive
whiteboards or instructional iPads. She won’t be taught by expat teachers with
advanced degrees.
But my daughter likes her
little school. She’s comfortable there. It’s close to home. She’s learning
well, and thriving, even. And most importantly, she’s made it clear that she
does not want to change schools. So, she won’t.
When I bring up this
educational choice with many of my peers, I get a lot of pushback. People tell
me I’m making the wrong decision for my girl. The tell me her future is at
stake. That she won’t be ready for first grade. That by denying her this
educational opportunity, I’m risking her potential for success.
But that’s not the way I see
it.
I got a pretty good,
traditional education. I studied hard throughout high school. I graduated
somewhere in the top of my class. I went
to one of the best universities in Canada and got a degree in the
Humanities. I studied Latin, read the classics, and wrote long, thoughtful
papers. I worked hard. I learned, made mistakes, I grew, and I got better at
being a human.
Nevertheless, I have not
achieved great success, at least according to the standard definition. Instead of the fancy briefcase and
high-flying career I always imagined for myself, I have a battered suitcase,
and a pretty good collection of air miles.
Instead of taking the
corporate road, I travelled. I experienced life on four contents, and lived in
eight different countries. I married a man I love and followed him across the
world. Along the way I’ve cobbled together a “career” of sorts in restaurants,
in property management, in education and training management, in social media.
Now I raise my girl, look after our home and occasionally write freelance.
And yet, to me, this
imperfect, under-achieving life IS a success. I’m living according to my own
terms. I work when I want to. I take breaks when I want to. I read books, I
cook good meals, I do yoga, I grow, I help my girl to grow, too. And, best of
all, I get to spend afternoons with my girl, soaking up the tropical light by
the pool.
My husband, by contrast, has
achieved enormous professional success. He has a good job, a great reputation,
and is on track to a high-achieving corporate position. And his education?
Well, he attended a one-room schoolhouse in the Swiss countryside, and then
left formal schooling when he was just 15 years old.
Certainly I value a good
education. I invested in one myself! But I don’t think, necessarily, that
education is the sole determinant of future success. And pre-kindergarten as
predictor of success for a child that already has all the advantages she could
ask for? I mean, can we all cool it with the pressure a little bit?
When I think about my hopes
and dreams for my daughter, when I imagine her as a flourishing adult, I don’t
have a particular set of financial calculations that I use to assign as markers
of success. I don’t have any ambitions regarding her career choice, or area of
study. I don’t even, necessarily, have aspirations for her to attend
university. I’d like her to figure that out on her own. I want my daughter to
decide if she wants to sit in a laboratory analysing micro-organisms or if
she’d rather be in a workshop, fashioning beautiful objects with her own hands.
What I want, most of all, is
for her to find a place in life that feels right. I want her to fell
contentment and fulfilment. I want her to build the kind of life that fits her
values, and allows her to spend time doing what she loves. And I most certainly
do not believe that the school at which she attends kindergarten will help her
get any closer to that goal.
So, next year, my girl will
go to the same good-enough preschool. She’ll have the same teachers, in the
same environment, and follow the same routine. She’ll be happy with that. And
so will I.
Please Note: Images and words are Erica's unless otherwise indicated
Great post.
ReplyDeleteI know I all too often get caught up in the Brisbane private school craziness...I suppose I know that my parents sacrificed for me to go to the best schools I could and I feel like I should do the same for my son.
It was refreshing to read this and to realise that schooling does not equal success and it certainly doesn't ensure happiness.
I really enjoyed this post. When I first read it I just sat there for ages, thinking and re-thinking about Jarvis's education. How the choices we make as parents can have such a huge impact on our child's life.
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