“What about social?” she barked.

Apparently the idea of socialization has become so ubiquitous a concern that the word can now be abbreviated. Our questioner was a complete stranger—a former school teacher (sigh). She was making a loud cell call which revealed her currently to be a realtor. My husband spoke to her because he was curious about the state of the local real estate market. She was curious about the presence of our clearly school aged child in the back of our car.

“What about social?” Well what about it, you nosy parker? Does the fact that our daughter is out in the world engaged on real errands and participating in our real adult life give you no clue?

Naturally this was not how I answered. Nor do I have the quick wit or the nerve to respond with the “I know, those poor deprived kids in school who get awful socialization” gambit. Instead I launched into my usual spiel about the number of active homeschooling support groups within easy distance. It is so reassuring to learn about all of them in this busy urban center, and it is a good answer for someone nervously contemplating homeschooling or a move to the region. But especially for critics, it is an answer that avoids pointing out that only homeschoolers are subjected to the repugnant judgmental prying of utter strangers with no right to evaluate something as personal as whether we have “enough” friends. Perhaps I should just start replying, “Why do you ask?”

A Google search of the word “socialization” reveals over 7.4 million hits. To be sure a tiny minority are about socialism the political/economic system, and there seems to be a fairly even distribution between articles about people and those about pets, especially dogs and cats (and at least one about parrots). Still there is a plethora of information out there about the concept.

The scientific sites attempt to deconstruct several socializing mechanisms (family, peers, school, media) with the emphasis on socialization as acculturation. Some sites discuss international cultural diversity. Some religious sites recommend vigilance to guard against negative influences. There are some courses in socialization for the purpose of “self actualization” and reaching one’s full potential—self socialization through approved readings.

Rarely did I find articles elucidating the sinister “Metropolis” ethos of humans being conditioned by their schooling to be mindless cogs in an industrial machine. I may be misled about the prevalence because I skipped most of the obvious school critique pieces. Or there may actually be fewer because this fearful idea is becoming obsolete in the information age.

Many of the relevant online articles are from homeschooling mothers or groups managing with greater or lesser degrees of chagrin , to reassure everyone that socialization is not only preferably carried out first within the family but is easily facilitated by living a normal life.  Lisa Russell’s wonderful “No Thank You, We Don’t Believe in Socialization” (http://www.tnhomeed.com/LRSocial.html amongst other places) strikes me as being amply sufficient to be the last word on the topic for homeschoolers and critics of home schooling. Yet it isn’t, and the question is still asked.

What I gleaned from these readings is first that I am not the only homeschooler fed up with the question being floated at all, and second socialization is virtually inescapable outside of deliberate isolation of the child from human contact at the level of abuse (producing somewhat misnamed feral children). Human socialization is the product of interactions with people both participatory and observed. And yes, it can go “wrong” in situations of cruelty, deep ignorance, or family dysfunction (including situations of drug abuse or criminal lifestyles) which lead to neglect and can produce disturbed or damaged children. But guess what? With very rare exceptions, these folks aren’t homeschoolers and certainly not joyful, active Unschoolers. So I’d sure prefer it if I weren’t being judged by these miserable standards!

So with all this supportive information at my fingertips, why do I instantly feel defensive when I’m asked what is truly the dumbest question in existence about homeschooling or Unschooling? It is a question that says more about the ignorance or fears of the questioner than about us. It reveals the cultural assumptions of the asker, and probably the lack of thought behind the meaning of the word. Perhaps it offends me because it implies that the asker thinks we must be keeping Jayn out of school in defiance of cultural norms by accident or without having given it much consideration. Humph!

Socialization is a process, not an accomplishment. Proper socialization of Jayn means that she will be reasonably comfortable and able to interact with an ever widening variety of people in an ever widening variety of situations. I hope she will have the emotional tools and self-awareness to be able to remove herself from situations of discomfort.

It means that she will be familiar enough with enough cultural institutions and pop culture references to make conversation sufficient for her to determine whether a new acquaintance is worth pursuing to friendship. I expect her to form her opinions in the context of being part of society and wider culture, so that if she is opting out she is doing so with deliberate intention. I believe her wonderful strong will shall become tempered by a growing capacity for empathy as she matures. My hope is that her authentic Self concept remains sufficiently robust that she will be able to mindfully examine her place in the world, regardless of where that is and how that changes. As indeed my place, or role, in the world has changed many times over my lifetime.

See, I have put some thought into it, and I tend to assume that the Unschoolers I meet have done just as much contemplating of these ideas.

But in keeping with my own rueful self-knowledge that I feel most defensive when I am most wrong, “why” is a question worth asking. Maybe I feel defensive because I do sometimes worry whether Jayn has enough friends. Maybe I feel defensive because of all the broad and lively arenas of life that are available to Jayn and to our family as Unschoolers, the greatest impediment to her fullest socialization—especially in the getting along with people sense—is me.

I was always most comfortable in the couple of professional milieu that have been my careers. My friends were those of my colleagues with whom I shared more than just work, often a sense of humor, enjoyment of partying, or whatever spark of chemistry makes people feel connected. But work was that basis of the friendships, along with the association fostered by meeting daily. This daily habituation is something that schools can at least provide for children. Amongst the crowd there would always be one or two that could become real friends outside of school hours or the workplace.

This should be one of the advantages of joining homeschooling support groups—a pool of likely candidates for friendship for the child and the mother. Yet my experience has been mixed. There are many nice, kind people who love their children. But there are only a tiny few who I would call real friends—the kind of person that I could comfortably call at three in the morning in an emergency and they would help willingly and gladly, without leaving me feeling obligated.

I have discovered that homeschooling in itself is an insufficient commonality or basis for true friendships. It’s not usually the educational philosophies that have been sticking points. One old friend was disdainful to the point of insult about homeschoolers. Another is still so career focused that we don’t have anything to say to each other anymore. However usually it’s the ordinary parenting and conventional attitudes about children that I personally find hard to get past at this time in my journey.

I’m starting to wonder if I know how to make friends, or if I can trust my own discernment. I have learned caution over the last few years, like a girl burned in love, after metaphorically “giving my heart” to different women, thinking we could be friends. I have been ready to listen and laugh, share stories of our children, and enjoy the journey of raising families together.

So many times I have felt like there has been some kind of rude awakening. This person is revealed to be someone who punishes harshly, and my sadness overwhelms my ability to spend time with them. That person is rigid about food or tv, which I can shrug about, but clearly thinks I’m nuts so apparently doesn’t want me around them. Another parent answers vaguely when I try to organize play dates, often enough that I finally realize that I am getting the brush off. I feel intimidated and defensive in the presence of someone else.  Is the other person the judgmental one, or is that character defect blazing in me?

It seems like a lot of people don’t like Unschoolers in general, or maybe it is me they just don’t like. I find I have to struggle against a reluctance to approach new people, to wallow in the comfort of familiar solitude rather than take the risk of disenchantment or rejection.

Worse is it Jayn some parents don’t like? There are birthday party invitations that don’t come, the horrible experience of being bullied at her dance class, being excluded repeatedly at the park.  My first response is to want to just escape and never come back, metaphorically if not in reality. But Jayn would rather keep trying. She’s loud, she’s different, she has been ready to love almost every child she meets and call them friend. Being deliberately ignored hurts her more than anything else.

Additionally Jayn has found the irregular availability of most of her acquaintances (let’s give them the most accurate designation) to be a problem. It is one that she has solved by bonding most strongly with the children who are our neighbors. Luckily we now have sweet neighbors.  They even homeschool. Most of the time Jayn would rather stay home and play with these familiar people than go to any of the numerous park days conducted by the homeschool support groups in our area.

Now and then I find the mom to be a kindred spirit but Jayn doesn’t connect with the child for whatever reason. I feel sad about it yet forcing unwanted companionship onto Jayn just for the sake of my social ease seems as wrong as any other social coercion. Will Rogers notwithstanding, it is unrealistic to expect to genuinely like every single person we meet.

Often I don’t know what to say to Jayn to help her make friends. I remember once suggesting that she try “Can I play with you?” instead of the more global “Will you be my friend?” after one little stranger was clearly overwhelmed by Jayn’s enthusiastic approach. It felt to me like the kid equivalent of forcing intimacy through extreme revelation, like telling a stranger all about one’s latest operation as small talk.

We talk about real friends being acceptant of who we are and our odd quirks of personal appearance. I remind her that bossing others won’t endear her to them. I suggest that she might get a better result (which is to say meet her primary goal of having an enjoyable play date) if she asks her friends what they would like to do, and she seems to have taken that to heart most of the time. She has always been generous and willing to share, probably from never being made to share. She likes to have her suggestions heard, even if they are not embraced by the group, and she seems to do better one-on-one most of the time. Her current challenge is to be able to let go if no one wants to listen to her rather than get locked in to her angry determination. Her behavior at other people’s houses is generally fine in the manners department, more polite than when she is at home relaxing with just us.

My longest and oldest friends, few as they are, live in Australia. My closest friend there died in a freak accident in her home several years ago. Most of my RU tribe live in other regions, other states. Unlike my mother, I don’t buy into the idea that I might not see or speak to my friends for years, and then find that “it is like we were never apart.” I believe friendships thrive through connection and connection should be active. I’m changing and developing, or at least striving to, so surely I have changes in viewpoint to expound, new interests to share, new questions to ask of my old friends. I know I need connection to feel fulfilled and serene, and it is impossible that my husband be my only source of emotional renewal.

So why am I so lousy at maintaining contact? With email there really is no excuse, even if most of the people I love, or want to love, live hundreds and thousands of miles away. I look back and think of the friendships that I squandered when I was young and brash and work was my whole life. The calls I stupidly didn’t return, the thanks not given, the big news that came as a surprise simply because I was out of touch. So my first resolve is to communicate more often with my distant friends and my chosen tribe.

Recently someone posted on one of the lists about moving outside of her comfort zone for the sake of defending her child. I am lucky that it seems Jayn rarely needs defending. But I am going to have to step out of my timid comfort zone if I am ever to have more friends for myself and offer Jayn a wider circle. I am going to have to find a way to get past shyness. I need to connect proactively with the other parents I meet at such places as Jayn’s new ballet class, and at the future interests that she chooses, so that I can facilitate the practical aspects of meeting up with her new friends. One adjustment I can make is to lower my expectations from seeking more soul mates to seeking pleasant acquaintances and Trust that the deeper desire will be manifested by the Universe.

I have decided to try a new strategy to take my attention off myself and focus it on the other person. In order to retain an open mind and a tolerant heart I keep one question foremost in my thinking as I meet new people. Simply I ask myself, “What can I learn from this person?”

Surely everyone must have something that they can show me. Maybe it will be the wonderful ability to help two youngsters negotiate a sticky issue. Perhaps it will be the clarity to redirect my thinking back to observing and trusting Jayn instead of trying to control her. Maybe it will be to redirect my emotions back to gratitude for all that I have and all the love in my life.

Maybe a single conversation with some uncongenial person whom I won’t care to meet again will be all that is needed to remind me that I have freely chosen this less traveled path. I will remember happily that I am part of a geographically far-flung but spiritually close-knit community of Unschoolers, whose love and acceptance (and occasional challenging push) restore my comfort and my resolve.

And in the meantime, I thank every power there is for the Conferences.

In her past life Robyn Coburn has been Production Designer and Set Decorator for motion pictures, Set, Lighting and Costume Designer in theater, and teacher of technical theater to actors. Now she pursues an interest in writing professionally including screenplays, and contributes regularly to Unschooling Discussion. She enjoys reading, swimming, sewing, the kind of electronic games that involve puzzles instead of finger drills, classic cinema (ie old movies), various crafts, traveling and is a passionate adorer of James and Jayn Coburn (8).