I've finally figured out why -- and I say this with affectionate and grateful recognition of all those terrific homeschoolers who've squeezed the already-whimpering household budget a little harder in order to purchase SHM -- our circ numbers bite so much.
It's a new magazine, of course. With no publicity budget.
And of course there's the name. I mean, good grief. Thank you again, you awesome subscribers who not only keep a magazine with a title like Secular Homeschooling in your actual home, but even bring it to park days and other gatherings.
(I myself tend to choke when cornered on the name of the magazine I edit. "Um -- it's about homeschooling!" I say with desperate cheer. "Lots and lots of homeschooling! Oodles of it! Nice homeschooling! Totally organic! Biodegradable! Cute little kids doing cute stuff with their cute parents! Did I mention the homeschooling part?" Like if I say all that loudly and often enough, they won't actually see the s-word on the cover when I finally haul a copy out to show them. Yes, I always carry copies with me. Not the whole print run. I do have a shred of dignity, thank you.)
But I really don't think those are the factors that are keeping SHM's numbers in the three digits. I think there's more to it than that. And now I'm sounding even to myself like my good friend who's really smart and funny and a joy to hang out with, but who thinks that absolutely everything, including the cheese they put on his burger when he asked for it plain, is the result of some huge overarching conspiracy. I'd love to feel that important, but I really don't think anyone's out to get me.
No, here's the deal:
Last week, someone at a homeschooling gathering gave me a copy of a homeschooling magazine. "I thought you'd like to see this!" she said. "I know you're always interested in homeschooling magazines."
I don't know where she got the plural. I'm always interested in the well-being of exactly one homeschooling magazine, which is kind of obvious by the way I lug copies of it around, never talk or think about anything else, and ask people at park days to please keep it down while I work on an article. (I'm really in demand at this kind of gathering. Really.)
Still, like an idiot, I took the magazine she offered me.
I think it was only human of me to look at this publication and suddenly feel like a four-year-old in a room full of grownups.
No, not just four years old. Four years old, carrying a paper plate on which are balanced several blue and green and orange and purple clay sculptures I've labored over all morning. And now I'm trying to sell them. And I've somehow wandered into the board room of a multinational, multi-skillion-dollar company.
I looked at this glossy new magazine, and in my head I heard my own voice piping up: "This one is a elephant! And this one's a giraffe. Do you want to buy a elephant or a giraffe?"
Oh, God, I'm such a loser.
This magazine I'm holding is just a little older than mine, and it's slick! It's got advertisers! It's got Rosetta Stone, fer crying out corn!
I brought it home and, in my usual mature and grownup fashion, explained to my family that I would now be retiring as editor of Wow -- Check Out The Loser magazine and would instead be turning my time and energy to something more in line with my abilities. I was thinking maybe I'd put in an application to be one of those people who cleans up the locker rooms of professional athletes.
My husband took a look at the publication I'd brought home and explained some of the facts of life to me.
"This is almost all advertising," he said, thumbing through it.
"I know!" I snapped. Way to rub it in. Some of those advertisers were people I'd said no to. And some of them were people who'd said no to me.
"So, there's no substance here," he said. "How many people do you think are actually sitting down and reading this?"
"A lot," I said. "Their circulation must be huge. Rosetta Stone doesn't advertise with just anyone."
"A big circulation doesn't mean a big readership," my husband corrected.
"Well, it sure means something."
"Do you know that magazine I keep getting in the mail every week and throwing away? I never ordered that. They got my name off some mailing list, started sending me free copies, and bingo -- another 'subscriber' to tell advertisers about."
Hmmph.
"And look at the articles," he went on. "This one is a book excerpt. This one is a book excerpt. This one is a review -- no, wait, I think this is an excerpt, too. The author of the book wrote it, anyway. So basically that's three ads passing for articles."
"Okay, but -- "
"Here's a so-called article that just happens to be a glowing review of the product that just happens to have a facing full-page ad," my husband said. "There's not even an author credited. For all we know, someone from the company wrote it."
"Maybe they -- "
"And here's another article about another product that just happens to have an ad on the facing page! Let me see, now, who wrote this? Gosh, it doesn't say! They sure like the product, though!"
"I just -- "
"Hey, look!" my husband said brightly. "An article about places that offer special rates for homeschoolers. And gosh! These places all happen to have ads in the magazine! Imagine that!"
"Okay, okay."
"This isn't really a magazine," he finished. "It isn't a resource. It's an ad package. Someone in the business set this up. It's completely artificial."
"It's the Spice Girls!" I said, inspired. "Isn't that how they got started? Some corporation decided to make a band?"
"Exactly."
I looked at the magazine again. It still looked like a magazine to me. If I saw this in the library or at a newsstand, I wouldn't be surprised.
But I'd be shocked if they charged seven dollars for it. They'd be pushing their luck asking for four.
I suddenly understood why I get so many people asking for "sample" copies of my magazine. They're expecting something slim, sleek, and glossy. Something cranked out. And if they think about it at all, they're expecting that, like the publication I was given, the publisher is making money primarily from advertisers.
That's not what I want. I'm not saying I could get it if I did want it; but I never wanted my magazine to be the big book o' advertising.
I want Secular Homeschooling to be primarily reader-supported, in the same way that I want my doctor to work for me rather than for an insurance company.
I ran a mixed review of a book in the latest issue. I felt lousy about doing it because I know what a hard job writing is, but I wanted people to know that I'll say what I really think about a book or a product. I rave when I like a book because I like the book, not because the writer or publisher might consider advertising with me.
I want to keep it that way. I want readers to be my top priority.
Homeschooling is hard work, and it deserves a serious journal.
It's hard to give people an idea of why SHM costs so much when they haven't held it in their hands. You can hear from someone -- and a lot of people have mentioned this kind of thing on loops and forums, and I thank them again and again -- that the magazine has almost no ads; that it's almost all articles, and they're in-depth rather than two page surface-skimmers.
But if what I was given at the park is what a homeschooling magazine (or any other kind of magazine, for that matter) supposedly looks and acts like -- that's a pretty strong preconception to fight.
I'm looking for help.
It's not just that I need to get the word out about this magazine. It's that I need to know how to get people to understand what it really is. And what it isn't.
Let me know what you think.
I'll be going to my first homeschooling conference in about a month. I hope that will be some good publicity.
I know there are people who go to conferences all over the country, but I have no idea how they manage it. How do they even find out about out-of-state conferences? How do they get to them without blowing all their money on travel and lodging fees?
See above about loving any input I can get.
And as always -- thanks for being here.
Saturday, June 28, 2008
Sunday, June 1, 2008
You're never too obscure to be hated by a total stranger
Here's how out of touch with reality I've become: when I got an email this morning with the subject heading "RE: Bitter Homeschooler's Wish List," I assumed it was fan mail.
That's not just me being conceited. The mail generated by the wish list has settled down -- people still like it (thank you!), and are still posting about and linking to it (which I also deeply appreciate), but it's mostly homeschoolers talking to other homeschoolers. As opposed to right after I posted it, when it seemed like the entire civilian population of the English-speaking world was highly indignant that those wacky homeschoolers, whom they'd so kindly tolerated for so long, were sounding a bit sassy.
Anyway -- when just homeschoolers are reading it, they're liking it, because they get it. It talks to what they go through every day. So they write me sweet, funny notes about their favorite items on the list, and it's nice. I get to feel connected to people I've never even met.
I was up waaaay too late the night before working on the upcoming issue, so it took me a few tries to make sense of the following:
From: Mitchell Smith <quant@mac.com>
To: editor@secular-homeschooling.com
Re: Bitter Homeschooler's Wish List
I read your list with interest, and while I feel people should be free to do what they like in this country, there are some laws that have to be obeyed. Your children don't have the right or wisdom to determine for themselves what education is best for them, so the government (in my case, California's) has decided that they need to be in public school (or under the supervision of some other similar expert, such as an accredited tutor).
This decision just came down in California a few months ago, and is controlling law here. If you homeschool your children in California, and you are not an accredited tutor or affiliated with a school, you are breaking the law. I sympathize with your situation, but if Californians want the law changed, they should contact their legislators.
Mitchell Smith
Irvine, CA
That first sentence tipped me off to the not-a-fan-letter status of this missive. The Wish List is a humor piece. Period. If you're a homeschooler or close enough to make no nevermind, it's funny. If you're not a homeschooler, it's still funny, if you're hip and with-it and understand that I'm not talking about you; or else it's infuriating. Either way, there's not a whole lot of gray area. You're either laughing, or you want to punch someone. Preferably me.
"I read your list with interest" is the kind of studied neutrality that no one who's really feeling neutral needs. In terms of attempting to disguise seething fury, it's one notch below "I was quite amused by your article regarding..."
(By the way: if you ever receive a letter from someone claiming to be "quite amused" by something you've written or done, it's time to enter the Witness Protection Program. The writer has about nine days left of their two-week waiting period before they can legally pick up the gun they ordered after their encounter with your work, and they're considering checking out what's available on the black market, just to keep their options open.)
This guy obviously resented what I'd written, but for whatever reason -- I have a hard time believing, given what followed, that it was good manners -- he wanted to disguise how happy he was at the idea that homeschooling was illegal in at least one of the fifty states.
I saw every reason to believe that he'd made a simple factual error regarding the legality of homeschooling in California. The ruling he mentioned was all over newspapers, magazines, television, and radio; the vacating of said ruling didn't garner nearly as much attention. I know a woman who was very interested in the ruling, since she'd homeschooled her own son (who is now in college), and she didn't hear a thing about the good news until I happened to mention it to her. For the media, good news is bad news and they try to avoid it.
I wrote back to my non-fan.
Dear Mr. Smith,
It's true that children can't decide some crucial things for themselves, such as what would be the best diet, toothbrushing routine, or education. That's why they have parents.
As for obeying the law, I live in California and am aware of our legal situation, which is not what you describe. The appellate court decision to which you refer was vacated several weeks ago, leaving homeschooling once again completely legal.
--Deborah Markus
I figured that would be the end of it. People don't like being told they're mistaken; at most, I expected something along the lines of, "Well, fine, but you should still send your kid to school."
Instead I got this:
Ms. Markus:
Did you actually read the decision from February, or just a summary? The arguments were predicated on standing law from 1953 which has always required those teaching children from ages 6 to 18 to have the proper credentials. Homeschooling has been illegal in California since at least 1953, but probably earlier. In fact, Justice Croskey wrote in the opinion that parents do not have a constitutional right to homeschool their children in California. It doesn't get any clearer than that.
Political pressure is likely the only reason the Court of Appeal decertified the opinion, and having read their opinion and the cases on which it was based, it's unlikely to change the new opinion they'll issue this summer. No new relevant laws have been passed, and nothing has changed that would result in a different opinion. Lawyers and special interest groups can file all the amicus briefs they like, but the state education code and the state constitution have not seen pertinent changes since February of this year.
Please don't mistake lack of enforcement for legality. Homeschooling is illegal in California, and will continue to be illegal until the state legislature changes the law. Moreover, if homeschooled children desire, they can sue their parents for violating their rights, in addition to any state imposed penalties.
Mitchell Smith
Irvine, CA
I know it's ridiculous, but at this point, I still didn't think this was a troll. The writer was hostile and his information was inaccurate, but he spelled and punctuated impeccably (this is uncorrected text), and even had paragraph breaks at appropriate intervals. Most real ranters can't be bothered with that sort of thing. I can and do ignore just plain hate, but this still sounded like an honest mistake to me.
(Before I wrote the following email, I did my civic duty and informed my son that rumor had it he could sue me for violating his rights by homeschooling him. "Really?" he asked, sounding far perkier than I cared for, considering that this whole homeschooling thing was pretty much his idea in the first place. I reminded him that he could sue me -- you know, the one with no money -- and he calmed down and agreed that he was perfectly happy with his educational setting in general and his teacher in particular. So I went back to answering my email.)
Dear Mr. Smith,
Yes, I read the decision. You're still incorrect. Homeschooling is not illegal in California; it is legally nonexistent. The two are not at all the same thing.
Children in California must be what I will call legally educationally accounted-for the year they turn six. Then, their parents have several options:
The child can be enrolled in a public school;
The child can be enrolled in a legally registered private school;
The child can be instructed by a credentialed tutor.
People like me often refer to ourselves as "homeschoolers," but in California, this is a social rather than a legal term. Most "homeschoolers" in California either comply with the minimal paperwork required to be considered a private school, or work with an educational specialist from a public charter school and are subject to grading and standardized testing. A few partake of the tutoring ("Hollywood homeschooling") option.
Please note: teachers in private schools in California -- any and all private schools in California -- are not legally required to be credentialed. They must simply be "capable of teaching." That is all the law has to say about their qualifications.
If you have any other questions about California's laws concerning homeschooling, the California Homeschool Network has a page with links to the pertinent legal code:
http://californiahomeschool.net/howTo/edCode.htm
Deborah Markus
Editor, Secular Homeschooling Magazine
I really thought this would be the end of it. I felt a little guilty about sending this guy to pester CHN after everything they've done for me, but I figured they were big enough in every sense to take it.
I've been involved in enough groups, loops, and forums to know enough not to feed a troll. I knew it was time to clear out when I received the following diatribe, which I must admit I didn't read in its entirety, this being "crunch" week for issue #3 of SHM:
Ms. Markus:
I understand your position, but are you claiming Justice Croskey was incorrect when he wrote that "...California courts have held that under provisions in the Education Code, parents do not have a constitutional right to home school their children" in his decision? While the decision itself has been depublished, the reasoning behind it is still sound, and you've yet to propose an argument to refute the Court of Appeals' argument.
Moreover, in pages five to six of the decision, Justice Croskey writes:
"Full-time public school education for persons between the ages of six and eighteen is compulsory under California’s compulsory education law (Ed. Code, § 48200 et seq.)."
and also
"...each parent, guardian, or other person having control or charge of the pupil shall send the pupil to the public full-time day school . . . and for the full time designated as the length of the schoolday by the governing board of the school district” (§ 48200). Exemptions to compulsory public school education are made for, among others, children who (1) attend a private full-time day school (§ 48222) or (2) are instructed by a tutor who holds a valid state teaching credential for the grade being taught (§ 48224). These provisions of the Education Code (in their predecessor section numbers) were held to be constitutional in People v. Turner (1953) 121 Cal.App.2d Supp. 861, 865 et seq., ('Turner'), and an appeal to the United States Supreme Court from that decision was dismissed for want of a substantial federal question in Turner v. People of the State of California (1954) 347 U.S. 972 [98 L.Ed. 1112, 74 S.Ct. 785]. Turner was cited with approval in In re Shinn, supra, 195 Cal.App.2d at p. 694 ('Shinn')."
Furthermore, you can't just declare yourself a private school teaching out of your home and thus get around the certification requirement:
"Additionally, the Turner court rejected, and noted that courts in other states had also rejected, the notion that parents instructing their children at home come within the private full-time day school exemption in then-section 16624 (now section 48222). The court stated that a simple reading of the statutes governing private schools and home instruction by private tutors shows the Legislature intended to distinguish the two, for if a private school includes a parent or private tutor instructing a child at home, there would be no purpose in writing separate legislation for private instruction at home."
I'm not disputing that teachers at private schools don't have to be credentialed, I'm just arguing that teaching your children at home prevents you from falling under the private school exemption.
Again, you can argue against the law all you like, but your only alternative is to change the law. The Second Appellate District is not going to reverse the decision that three of their colleagues unanimously supported, because the law and stare decisis are on their side, and the justices in the Second Appellate District all know one another. In order to make homeschooling in California legal, you'd need at least a 2-1 opinion. Given the 3-0 in February, that's really unlikely.
Mitchell Smith
Irvine, CA
We all have our quirks. Of all the things that could have ticked me off about this letter and its writer -- the eye-glazingly long chunks of quoted material, the seemingly willful misunderstanding of the educational code (California law does not, in spite of what Mr. Smith says, distinguish between a legally registered private school that I set up for the instruction of six total strangers and one I set up for six little heathens I made myself with stuff I found around the house) and legal terminology ("depublishing" a decision means that it's still on the books, but doesn't set precedent or impact anyone except the party involved in the court case; "vacating" means that it's as if the ruling has never been made, and the case has to be tried all over again, with no legal impact on either precedent-setting or the party involved in the case) -- of all the things that might have irked me, here's what baked my beans about this jeremiad.
I have, not to put too fine a point on it, one hell of a lot to do on any given day. I have a child, a husband, and a taciturn lizard to feed -- and since one's an ethical vegetarian, one has numerous adult-onset food allergies (including all fruits, tomatoes, vinegar, chocolate, and cultured milk), and one has a tendency to daily relandscape his tank by digging hard enough to cover his dish of carefully-torn fresh greens with layers of sand, I do a lot of food preparation from scratch. This creates a great many dishes, which I wash by hand, since our apartment is too small to allow of a dishwasher. I teach a weekly French class to a few of my son's homeschooling buddies, so I tend to listen to French language tapes while washing dishes, or while doing the dusting, swiffering, vacuuming, and scrubbing that our dust mite and mold allergies require. (I've learned that "letting the housework go" is not an option -- the time I save not doing it is lost to the pain and recuperation involved in screaming sinus infections and nauseating headaches.) These allergies also require me to wash all the bed linens on a weekly basis, and this chore is made more challenging still because we also don't have a washer and dryer of our own. My neighbors think I'm a laundry-obsessed washing machine hog quite aside from this, because my husband is allergic to his own sweat and not only can never rewear clothing, but needs to change clothes a few times a day or suffer the joy of a raging red rash.
And then there's that whole homeschooling thing. Which since I don't have a curriculum, since my son has sensitivities that must be respected or we're all up all night with his nightmares, means a lot of trips to the library and time on the Internet and talking to friends, all in the name of finding good (and preferably inexpensive) educational materials.
And then there's that whole magazine thing. Which is going really amazingly well, especially considering that our only advertising is word of mouth; but it's still a lot of work even for a quarterly, since I can't afford any help and am doing every step from writing and editing to proofreading to buying stamps and stuffing envelopes.
Plus the painful symptoms of some health issues I've alluded to in previous postings are noticeably alleviated if I can make time to exercise regularly.
So what I mean is, I kind of have stuff to do. In the sense of being so tired at the end of any given day that it's all I can do to gather up the strength to whimper as I fall into bed.
I don't mean that I want an award, or even a sympathy vote. My life is rich and full, and I can honestly say that I feel lucky every day. Most people aren't fortunate enough to have work they are genuinely passionate about, or work that they can do at home; I have both, and fan mail from groovy readers to boot. I'm lucky enough to have a son who cared from the tender age of four about what went into his body, and his shift to vegetarianism happened right when the whole world was beginning to realize that what we eat can have a serious impact on the environment, and it's up to us to make that impact a positive one. (Plus if you do it right, vegetarian cooking can be a lot cheaper than omnivorous.) I even feel strangely lucky to have health conditions that demand I pay close attention to my body and its needs, because otherwise I might not have bothered until a heart attack or other unpleasantness forced me, possibly too late, to cultivate some good health habits.
But what I mean is, with all this good stuff I have on my everyday to-do list, I don't have a lot of what you'd call "spare" time. I have a sister in New Mexico, a cousin in New Jersey, and a couple of aunts on the east coast, all of whom would love to hear from me more often. Or at all. I don't have time to write to wonderful, nice people I love and want to make happy, and this Mitchell Smith bozo has, apparently, all the time in the world to spend haranguing a total stranger who never -- wait, let me check; yes, that's right -- never never even once asked his opinion about homeschooling or anything else.
I don't have time to do the reading I need to do on subjects that interest me and that I really ought to learn more about; and this guy has just decades to float around the Internet finding material on stuff he has, at best, a marginal and purely theoretical interest in.
Of all the things that could have bugged me about being singled out for this loser's attention, that's what got me. Like I said, we all have our quirks.
Like I also said, I do know when it's time to clear out of a conversation.
Dear Mr. Smith,
I don't have to argue with the appellate court's ruling or any of the specifics contained therein; it was vacated (not depublished: vacated), and for good reason. Asking me to defend my choices and actions in light of the ruling in question is like asking me to defend the fact that I voted in the last election in light of the fact that the ancient Greeks didn't allow women to take part in politics.
There is no legal difference between a private school I might establish and the private school down the street, provided both institutions file the proper paperwork. If you want to understand that better, please read California's education code rather than quoting a vacated ruling. If you want to discuss this any longer, please get in touch with one of California's statewide homeschooling organizations.
I realize that you must be either very young or very old to have this kind of time to devote to a discussion with a stranger; I'm neither, and I have a great deal of work to do. I didn't choose to begin this discussion, but I'm ending it. I understand that in spite of my saying that, you'll be hitting "reply." Please don't expect me to.
--Deborah Markus
I knew this guy was going to get one more parting shot in. If I hadn't thrown in that bit about understanding that he would do exactly that, he probably would have contented himself with some paternalistic blather about how I was flying in the face of the law by depriving my family of blah blah blah. He didn't care about changing my mind -- probably never had. I apologize to all the thinking, honorable, cool men out there -- and I can say without rancor after working at a women's bookstore for six years (and growing up with four sisters) that I know women can be petty, unreasonable, elitist, classist, rude, and even violent -- but the fact is, this was a guy thing. This was just plain wanting to put me in my place, and women may feel the urge to do that too, but it takes a certain kind of man to be that angry at a woman who refuses to either back down or be impressed by his spouting.
So here's what I woke up to the next morning:
Ms. Markus:
Your invective is wholly unnecessary, but your actions have been, are, and will continue to be illegal, unless the education code is amended. If this were a victimless crime, I would be content to stand aside, but unfortunately it is not. You are stealing from your children's future by denying them the education to which they are guaranteed in our state, and none of us should allow that to happen in our society, no matter how well-intentioned your actions may be.
I regret that I must now refer your case for prosecution. I urge you to reconsider, and to enroll your children in an accredited public or private school immediately, as the law stipulates.
Good luck.
Mitchell Smith
Irvine, CA
I wasn't grownup enough to be just plain unaffected by this, but I will say that I was at least secure enough not to be frightened. I went straight to furious.
How dared someone think he could threaten me with anything because he didn't like my attitude?
My "invective"? Had he read any of my writing? If I'd been invectiving at him, he'd be too busy bleeding to type.
Just to make sure all my bases were covered, I called the legal representative at CHN. I liked the fact that she could tell me right off what the worst-case scenario was -- that even if he had enough information about me to make some kind of call, odds were his phrasing would give him away right away as a malicious time-waster. Sorry not to get more specific, but on the off chance he reads this, or anyone else like him tunes in, there's no effing way I'm giving them useful information. Suffice it to say, I'm perfectly legally safe.
What bothered me, though, was that in this conversation, the emphasis was in letting me know what to do if this ass-hat, who was probably just blowing off steam, actually tried anything. Even when I asked, the possibility of my doing something proactive rather than reactive was dismissed with some surprise.
It's really sad that even though homeschoolers are doing nothing wrong, and a great deal right, we've been conditioned to live so defensively that when someone like this comes along, the assumption is that we're going to be scared by it. I'm not. I'm white-hot furious.
The reason that I haven't responded to his last email isn't because I'm worried about ticking someone off who obviously has it in for me. I've been warned -- and I don't mean this unkindly or flippantly; I deeply appreciate all the concern that's come my way, and love the fact that total strangers took time out of their busy homeschooling days to worry about how things are going for me -- that someone who wanted to make this personal might be able to get plenty of information about me.
I honestly don't care.
I don't think this guy is that kind of freak; but even refusing to make assumptions about that kind of thing, I'm not afraid. I have every reason not to be. Again, never mind the specifics; suffice it to say, there aren't many princesses who can boast the kind of security I live with.
No, the reason I haven't responded is that I'm still deciding whether or not I'd enjoy saying, "Thank you for your interest. My legal representative has advised me that you have no basis for any case against me, and her exact words on the subject were, 'Tell him we'd love to see him try.'" If I decide it would be just plain fun for me to send that, I'll do it.
It might be worth it to see what he'd come back with. It would either be some worthless, icily polite reply about how yes, indeedy, he'll be calling in the lawyers; or, if he's really into the one-upmanship thing, it'll be some kind of more-than-just-legal threat. And frankly? I'd love to be able to go to the police with more than just a complaint that some Internet douche is annoying me by refusing to understand the educational code in California.
I took this whole episode to my local park day. Because this is California, one of the mothers there used to be an actress, and is married to an actor; the other is a political artist. I wasn't surprised that the latter gets a decent amount of hate mail, but I was startled to hear that the former actress said she and her husband, neither of whom are anything like household names, routinely get "weirdos" giving them unwanted attention pretty much every time they get a role, even if it's just a bit part.
"It doesn't matter that you're not famous," she told me. "You don't have to be. You just have to have your work out there."
Which is good to know, since SHM is getting bigger every week and I have no intention of taking the edge off my writing.
A million thanks for the cyberhugs, good wishes, and concern I received as soon as I put word out that this had happened. That day, needless to say, didn't go quite as I'd expected it to. The morning was stressful, what with all the adrenaline pumping. I didn't end up doing the magazine work I needed to; I decided it was much more important to burn some energy and soothe my soul by walking with my offspring to the farmer's market, buying some beautiful cherries and free-range turkey eggs, and practicing my French on the waiter at the crepe place. Because unlike some fools cluttering up the California landscape, I can say with absolute assurance that I have my priorities straight.
That's not just me being conceited. The mail generated by the wish list has settled down -- people still like it (thank you!), and are still posting about and linking to it (which I also deeply appreciate), but it's mostly homeschoolers talking to other homeschoolers. As opposed to right after I posted it, when it seemed like the entire civilian population of the English-speaking world was highly indignant that those wacky homeschoolers, whom they'd so kindly tolerated for so long, were sounding a bit sassy.
Anyway -- when just homeschoolers are reading it, they're liking it, because they get it. It talks to what they go through every day. So they write me sweet, funny notes about their favorite items on the list, and it's nice. I get to feel connected to people I've never even met.
I was up waaaay too late the night before working on the upcoming issue, so it took me a few tries to make sense of the following:
From: Mitchell Smith <quant@mac.com>
To: editor@secular-homeschooling.com
Re: Bitter Homeschooler's Wish List
I read your list with interest, and while I feel people should be free to do what they like in this country, there are some laws that have to be obeyed. Your children don't have the right or wisdom to determine for themselves what education is best for them, so the government (in my case, California's) has decided that they need to be in public school (or under the supervision of some other similar expert, such as an accredited tutor).
This decision just came down in California a few months ago, and is controlling law here. If you homeschool your children in California, and you are not an accredited tutor or affiliated with a school, you are breaking the law. I sympathize with your situation, but if Californians want the law changed, they should contact their legislators.
Mitchell Smith
Irvine, CA
That first sentence tipped me off to the not-a-fan-letter status of this missive. The Wish List is a humor piece. Period. If you're a homeschooler or close enough to make no nevermind, it's funny. If you're not a homeschooler, it's still funny, if you're hip and with-it and understand that I'm not talking about you; or else it's infuriating. Either way, there's not a whole lot of gray area. You're either laughing, or you want to punch someone. Preferably me.
"I read your list with interest" is the kind of studied neutrality that no one who's really feeling neutral needs. In terms of attempting to disguise seething fury, it's one notch below "I was quite amused by your article regarding..."
(By the way: if you ever receive a letter from someone claiming to be "quite amused" by something you've written or done, it's time to enter the Witness Protection Program. The writer has about nine days left of their two-week waiting period before they can legally pick up the gun they ordered after their encounter with your work, and they're considering checking out what's available on the black market, just to keep their options open.)
This guy obviously resented what I'd written, but for whatever reason -- I have a hard time believing, given what followed, that it was good manners -- he wanted to disguise how happy he was at the idea that homeschooling was illegal in at least one of the fifty states.
I saw every reason to believe that he'd made a simple factual error regarding the legality of homeschooling in California. The ruling he mentioned was all over newspapers, magazines, television, and radio; the vacating of said ruling didn't garner nearly as much attention. I know a woman who was very interested in the ruling, since she'd homeschooled her own son (who is now in college), and she didn't hear a thing about the good news until I happened to mention it to her. For the media, good news is bad news and they try to avoid it.
I wrote back to my non-fan.
Dear Mr. Smith,
It's true that children can't decide some crucial things for themselves, such as what would be the best diet, toothbrushing routine, or education. That's why they have parents.
As for obeying the law, I live in California and am aware of our legal situation, which is not what you describe. The appellate court decision to which you refer was vacated several weeks ago, leaving homeschooling once again completely legal.
--Deborah Markus
I figured that would be the end of it. People don't like being told they're mistaken; at most, I expected something along the lines of, "Well, fine, but you should still send your kid to school."
Instead I got this:
Ms. Markus:
Did you actually read the decision from February, or just a summary? The arguments were predicated on standing law from 1953 which has always required those teaching children from ages 6 to 18 to have the proper credentials. Homeschooling has been illegal in California since at least 1953, but probably earlier. In fact, Justice Croskey wrote in the opinion that parents do not have a constitutional right to homeschool their children in California. It doesn't get any clearer than that.
Political pressure is likely the only reason the Court of Appeal decertified the opinion, and having read their opinion and the cases on which it was based, it's unlikely to change the new opinion they'll issue this summer. No new relevant laws have been passed, and nothing has changed that would result in a different opinion. Lawyers and special interest groups can file all the amicus briefs they like, but the state education code and the state constitution have not seen pertinent changes since February of this year.
Please don't mistake lack of enforcement for legality. Homeschooling is illegal in California, and will continue to be illegal until the state legislature changes the law. Moreover, if homeschooled children desire, they can sue their parents for violating their rights, in addition to any state imposed penalties.
Mitchell Smith
Irvine, CA
I know it's ridiculous, but at this point, I still didn't think this was a troll. The writer was hostile and his information was inaccurate, but he spelled and punctuated impeccably (this is uncorrected text), and even had paragraph breaks at appropriate intervals. Most real ranters can't be bothered with that sort of thing. I can and do ignore just plain hate, but this still sounded like an honest mistake to me.
(Before I wrote the following email, I did my civic duty and informed my son that rumor had it he could sue me for violating his rights by homeschooling him. "Really?" he asked, sounding far perkier than I cared for, considering that this whole homeschooling thing was pretty much his idea in the first place. I reminded him that he could sue me -- you know, the one with no money -- and he calmed down and agreed that he was perfectly happy with his educational setting in general and his teacher in particular. So I went back to answering my email.)
Dear Mr. Smith,
Yes, I read the decision. You're still incorrect. Homeschooling is not illegal in California; it is legally nonexistent. The two are not at all the same thing.
Children in California must be what I will call legally educationally accounted-for the year they turn six. Then, their parents have several options:
The child can be enrolled in a public school;
The child can be enrolled in a legally registered private school;
The child can be instructed by a credentialed tutor.
People like me often refer to ourselves as "homeschoolers," but in California, this is a social rather than a legal term. Most "homeschoolers" in California either comply with the minimal paperwork required to be considered a private school, or work with an educational specialist from a public charter school and are subject to grading and standardized testing. A few partake of the tutoring ("Hollywood homeschooling") option.
Please note: teachers in private schools in California -- any and all private schools in California -- are not legally required to be credentialed. They must simply be "capable of teaching." That is all the law has to say about their qualifications.
If you have any other questions about California's laws concerning homeschooling, the California Homeschool Network has a page with links to the pertinent legal code:
http://californiahomeschool.net/howTo/edCode.htm
Deborah Markus
Editor, Secular Homeschooling Magazine
I really thought this would be the end of it. I felt a little guilty about sending this guy to pester CHN after everything they've done for me, but I figured they were big enough in every sense to take it.
I've been involved in enough groups, loops, and forums to know enough not to feed a troll. I knew it was time to clear out when I received the following diatribe, which I must admit I didn't read in its entirety, this being "crunch" week for issue #3 of SHM:
Ms. Markus:
I understand your position, but are you claiming Justice Croskey was incorrect when he wrote that "...California courts have held that under provisions in the Education Code, parents do not have a constitutional right to home school their children" in his decision? While the decision itself has been depublished, the reasoning behind it is still sound, and you've yet to propose an argument to refute the Court of Appeals' argument.
Moreover, in pages five to six of the decision, Justice Croskey writes:
"Full-time public school education for persons between the ages of six and eighteen is compulsory under California’s compulsory education law (Ed. Code, § 48200 et seq.)."
and also
"...each parent, guardian, or other person having control or charge of the pupil shall send the pupil to the public full-time day school . . . and for the full time designated as the length of the schoolday by the governing board of the school district” (§ 48200). Exemptions to compulsory public school education are made for, among others, children who (1) attend a private full-time day school (§ 48222) or (2) are instructed by a tutor who holds a valid state teaching credential for the grade being taught (§ 48224). These provisions of the Education Code (in their predecessor section numbers) were held to be constitutional in People v. Turner (1953) 121 Cal.App.2d Supp. 861, 865 et seq., ('Turner'), and an appeal to the United States Supreme Court from that decision was dismissed for want of a substantial federal question in Turner v. People of the State of California (1954) 347 U.S. 972 [98 L.Ed. 1112, 74 S.Ct. 785]. Turner was cited with approval in In re Shinn, supra, 195 Cal.App.2d at p. 694 ('Shinn')."
Furthermore, you can't just declare yourself a private school teaching out of your home and thus get around the certification requirement:
"Additionally, the Turner court rejected, and noted that courts in other states had also rejected, the notion that parents instructing their children at home come within the private full-time day school exemption in then-section 16624 (now section 48222). The court stated that a simple reading of the statutes governing private schools and home instruction by private tutors shows the Legislature intended to distinguish the two, for if a private school includes a parent or private tutor instructing a child at home, there would be no purpose in writing separate legislation for private instruction at home."
I'm not disputing that teachers at private schools don't have to be credentialed, I'm just arguing that teaching your children at home prevents you from falling under the private school exemption.
Again, you can argue against the law all you like, but your only alternative is to change the law. The Second Appellate District is not going to reverse the decision that three of their colleagues unanimously supported, because the law and stare decisis are on their side, and the justices in the Second Appellate District all know one another. In order to make homeschooling in California legal, you'd need at least a 2-1 opinion. Given the 3-0 in February, that's really unlikely.
Mitchell Smith
Irvine, CA
We all have our quirks. Of all the things that could have ticked me off about this letter and its writer -- the eye-glazingly long chunks of quoted material, the seemingly willful misunderstanding of the educational code (California law does not, in spite of what Mr. Smith says, distinguish between a legally registered private school that I set up for the instruction of six total strangers and one I set up for six little heathens I made myself with stuff I found around the house) and legal terminology ("depublishing" a decision means that it's still on the books, but doesn't set precedent or impact anyone except the party involved in the court case; "vacating" means that it's as if the ruling has never been made, and the case has to be tried all over again, with no legal impact on either precedent-setting or the party involved in the case) -- of all the things that might have irked me, here's what baked my beans about this jeremiad.
I have, not to put too fine a point on it, one hell of a lot to do on any given day. I have a child, a husband, and a taciturn lizard to feed -- and since one's an ethical vegetarian, one has numerous adult-onset food allergies (including all fruits, tomatoes, vinegar, chocolate, and cultured milk), and one has a tendency to daily relandscape his tank by digging hard enough to cover his dish of carefully-torn fresh greens with layers of sand, I do a lot of food preparation from scratch. This creates a great many dishes, which I wash by hand, since our apartment is too small to allow of a dishwasher. I teach a weekly French class to a few of my son's homeschooling buddies, so I tend to listen to French language tapes while washing dishes, or while doing the dusting, swiffering, vacuuming, and scrubbing that our dust mite and mold allergies require. (I've learned that "letting the housework go" is not an option -- the time I save not doing it is lost to the pain and recuperation involved in screaming sinus infections and nauseating headaches.) These allergies also require me to wash all the bed linens on a weekly basis, and this chore is made more challenging still because we also don't have a washer and dryer of our own. My neighbors think I'm a laundry-obsessed washing machine hog quite aside from this, because my husband is allergic to his own sweat and not only can never rewear clothing, but needs to change clothes a few times a day or suffer the joy of a raging red rash.
And then there's that whole homeschooling thing. Which since I don't have a curriculum, since my son has sensitivities that must be respected or we're all up all night with his nightmares, means a lot of trips to the library and time on the Internet and talking to friends, all in the name of finding good (and preferably inexpensive) educational materials.
And then there's that whole magazine thing. Which is going really amazingly well, especially considering that our only advertising is word of mouth; but it's still a lot of work even for a quarterly, since I can't afford any help and am doing every step from writing and editing to proofreading to buying stamps and stuffing envelopes.
Plus the painful symptoms of some health issues I've alluded to in previous postings are noticeably alleviated if I can make time to exercise regularly.
So what I mean is, I kind of have stuff to do. In the sense of being so tired at the end of any given day that it's all I can do to gather up the strength to whimper as I fall into bed.
I don't mean that I want an award, or even a sympathy vote. My life is rich and full, and I can honestly say that I feel lucky every day. Most people aren't fortunate enough to have work they are genuinely passionate about, or work that they can do at home; I have both, and fan mail from groovy readers to boot. I'm lucky enough to have a son who cared from the tender age of four about what went into his body, and his shift to vegetarianism happened right when the whole world was beginning to realize that what we eat can have a serious impact on the environment, and it's up to us to make that impact a positive one. (Plus if you do it right, vegetarian cooking can be a lot cheaper than omnivorous.) I even feel strangely lucky to have health conditions that demand I pay close attention to my body and its needs, because otherwise I might not have bothered until a heart attack or other unpleasantness forced me, possibly too late, to cultivate some good health habits.
But what I mean is, with all this good stuff I have on my everyday to-do list, I don't have a lot of what you'd call "spare" time. I have a sister in New Mexico, a cousin in New Jersey, and a couple of aunts on the east coast, all of whom would love to hear from me more often. Or at all. I don't have time to write to wonderful, nice people I love and want to make happy, and this Mitchell Smith bozo has, apparently, all the time in the world to spend haranguing a total stranger who never -- wait, let me check; yes, that's right -- never never even once asked his opinion about homeschooling or anything else.
I don't have time to do the reading I need to do on subjects that interest me and that I really ought to learn more about; and this guy has just decades to float around the Internet finding material on stuff he has, at best, a marginal and purely theoretical interest in.
Of all the things that could have bugged me about being singled out for this loser's attention, that's what got me. Like I said, we all have our quirks.
Like I also said, I do know when it's time to clear out of a conversation.
Dear Mr. Smith,
I don't have to argue with the appellate court's ruling or any of the specifics contained therein; it was vacated (not depublished: vacated), and for good reason. Asking me to defend my choices and actions in light of the ruling in question is like asking me to defend the fact that I voted in the last election in light of the fact that the ancient Greeks didn't allow women to take part in politics.
There is no legal difference between a private school I might establish and the private school down the street, provided both institutions file the proper paperwork. If you want to understand that better, please read California's education code rather than quoting a vacated ruling. If you want to discuss this any longer, please get in touch with one of California's statewide homeschooling organizations.
I realize that you must be either very young or very old to have this kind of time to devote to a discussion with a stranger; I'm neither, and I have a great deal of work to do. I didn't choose to begin this discussion, but I'm ending it. I understand that in spite of my saying that, you'll be hitting "reply." Please don't expect me to.
--Deborah Markus
I knew this guy was going to get one more parting shot in. If I hadn't thrown in that bit about understanding that he would do exactly that, he probably would have contented himself with some paternalistic blather about how I was flying in the face of the law by depriving my family of blah blah blah. He didn't care about changing my mind -- probably never had. I apologize to all the thinking, honorable, cool men out there -- and I can say without rancor after working at a women's bookstore for six years (and growing up with four sisters) that I know women can be petty, unreasonable, elitist, classist, rude, and even violent -- but the fact is, this was a guy thing. This was just plain wanting to put me in my place, and women may feel the urge to do that too, but it takes a certain kind of man to be that angry at a woman who refuses to either back down or be impressed by his spouting.
So here's what I woke up to the next morning:
Ms. Markus:
Your invective is wholly unnecessary, but your actions have been, are, and will continue to be illegal, unless the education code is amended. If this were a victimless crime, I would be content to stand aside, but unfortunately it is not. You are stealing from your children's future by denying them the education to which they are guaranteed in our state, and none of us should allow that to happen in our society, no matter how well-intentioned your actions may be.
I regret that I must now refer your case for prosecution. I urge you to reconsider, and to enroll your children in an accredited public or private school immediately, as the law stipulates.
Good luck.
Mitchell Smith
Irvine, CA
I wasn't grownup enough to be just plain unaffected by this, but I will say that I was at least secure enough not to be frightened. I went straight to furious.
How dared someone think he could threaten me with anything because he didn't like my attitude?
My "invective"? Had he read any of my writing? If I'd been invectiving at him, he'd be too busy bleeding to type.
Just to make sure all my bases were covered, I called the legal representative at CHN. I liked the fact that she could tell me right off what the worst-case scenario was -- that even if he had enough information about me to make some kind of call, odds were his phrasing would give him away right away as a malicious time-waster. Sorry not to get more specific, but on the off chance he reads this, or anyone else like him tunes in, there's no effing way I'm giving them useful information. Suffice it to say, I'm perfectly legally safe.
What bothered me, though, was that in this conversation, the emphasis was in letting me know what to do if this ass-hat, who was probably just blowing off steam, actually tried anything. Even when I asked, the possibility of my doing something proactive rather than reactive was dismissed with some surprise.
It's really sad that even though homeschoolers are doing nothing wrong, and a great deal right, we've been conditioned to live so defensively that when someone like this comes along, the assumption is that we're going to be scared by it. I'm not. I'm white-hot furious.
The reason that I haven't responded to his last email isn't because I'm worried about ticking someone off who obviously has it in for me. I've been warned -- and I don't mean this unkindly or flippantly; I deeply appreciate all the concern that's come my way, and love the fact that total strangers took time out of their busy homeschooling days to worry about how things are going for me -- that someone who wanted to make this personal might be able to get plenty of information about me.
I honestly don't care.
I don't think this guy is that kind of freak; but even refusing to make assumptions about that kind of thing, I'm not afraid. I have every reason not to be. Again, never mind the specifics; suffice it to say, there aren't many princesses who can boast the kind of security I live with.
No, the reason I haven't responded is that I'm still deciding whether or not I'd enjoy saying, "Thank you for your interest. My legal representative has advised me that you have no basis for any case against me, and her exact words on the subject were, 'Tell him we'd love to see him try.'" If I decide it would be just plain fun for me to send that, I'll do it.
It might be worth it to see what he'd come back with. It would either be some worthless, icily polite reply about how yes, indeedy, he'll be calling in the lawyers; or, if he's really into the one-upmanship thing, it'll be some kind of more-than-just-legal threat. And frankly? I'd love to be able to go to the police with more than just a complaint that some Internet douche is annoying me by refusing to understand the educational code in California.
I took this whole episode to my local park day. Because this is California, one of the mothers there used to be an actress, and is married to an actor; the other is a political artist. I wasn't surprised that the latter gets a decent amount of hate mail, but I was startled to hear that the former actress said she and her husband, neither of whom are anything like household names, routinely get "weirdos" giving them unwanted attention pretty much every time they get a role, even if it's just a bit part.
"It doesn't matter that you're not famous," she told me. "You don't have to be. You just have to have your work out there."
Which is good to know, since SHM is getting bigger every week and I have no intention of taking the edge off my writing.
A million thanks for the cyberhugs, good wishes, and concern I received as soon as I put word out that this had happened. That day, needless to say, didn't go quite as I'd expected it to. The morning was stressful, what with all the adrenaline pumping. I didn't end up doing the magazine work I needed to; I decided it was much more important to burn some energy and soothe my soul by walking with my offspring to the farmer's market, buying some beautiful cherries and free-range turkey eggs, and practicing my French on the waiter at the crepe place. Because unlike some fools cluttering up the California landscape, I can say with absolute assurance that I have my priorities straight.
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