I'm part of a small, plain, little family. I'm the Mom. There's a Dad, and three young children. If we were filmed in downtown Smalltown, we'd be pretty inconspicuous- just five ordinary people bobbing down the sidewalk with all the other bobbing people, tied together in a very normal way. We don't wear anything particularily special, except perhaps the brown scapulars or a crucifix for which we get curious looks and remarks- usually if we're right up close in an elevator or at a shop counter. Sometimes we seem odd on a Sunday downtown, because we're dressed up- a day when everyone else seems to be dressed way down. In fact, I guess we're a little odd because me (the mom) and the kids only dress up on Sundays- the rest of the week we are doing homeschooling or going to the tutorial on Wednesdays, or an occasional field trip or outing. We are on exactly the opposite schedule for dressing up or down than the rest of society.
I suppose when the UPS man comes to our door, he might notice some more oddities- the children are home with me- well, I'm at home, too- and they are either sitting at the table working on math or Latin, or they are running around like horses let out to pasture. I get a smile and a surprised look from him sometimes. The carpet cleaner named Jay looks around at the paintings of saints and the statues, and the schedules for school and just puts on his Ipod. Sometimes people are warm and ask us questions about our life, and sometimes they avoid getting to know us, because we don't fit into regular categories of culture. We are counter-culture: and that should be just fine in Santa Cruz. It actually is, for the most part; I find the society in Santa Cruz to be much more in the vein of: "Really? Wow, that's cool, whatever." This is somewhat of a relief compared to uptight Westchester County in New York, where quarterly reports to the school district are required; and you bear daily the more intense scrutiny of neighbors and secular friends.
But still, no matter- whether it be floaty Santa Cruz or lead-weight New York, we are a Catholic homeschooling family: and this is a project which takes the 110% of the whole family, Dad included. Both parents are the curriculum director, the cleaner, the person with interests, the friend, the piano teacher, the Latin teacher, the preschool teacher, the religion teacher and guide, the police PERSON and the cook- and occasionally a firefighter. We all have to look hard and carefully for friends and opportunities for social growth. This is where the really hard part begins.
Catholic families, whether in New York, California or Kansas, are like non-blips on the society's radar: we do this on purpose, because we want to pass Faith and Morals down to our children; and we have made the decision, based on what is going on in our area, to educate our children ourselves. We are entrepreneurs in the soul market, and as anyone knows who has started an entrepreneurial enterprise, it is often a hard and lonely process for the one with the responsibility. There are a lot of obstacles to success: fear of failure, finances, the sheer amount of driving, exhaustion, loneliness and not having the support from other families.
The support from other families is what I have begun to see as absolutely essential. We can't live in a Catholic vacuum- it ceases to be truly Catholic when it becomes a vacuum, for God created us in society and for society, and we have to be in the world- but not of it. In modern culture, with it's values increasingly anti-Christian, fulfilling our mission in this sense is more and more difficult. Our children, like young plants, need outside influences, but they have to be positive ones, chances for growth and learning, but not chances for corruption or confusion. So we need other families who understand our mission, with whom to share it: a society within a society.
Whenever we have moved into an area, there has usually been one or two families who are especially good at being hospitable to others: they host dinners, or St. Nicholas Day parties, or All Saint's Day celebrations; they start groups like the tutorial (a one-day supplemental school) or organize to provide food after Mass on Sundays so that families can stay around and get to know each other(if there's no food, families usually have to leave to find food for hungry children). They do this with very open hearts and hands to those whom they are just meeting! I have become more and more grateful to those people who have seen the needs of families, especially homeschooling ones, and have stepped up to an often difficult and thankless task. But to be hospitable, to support other families in their quest to bring up children who retain their innocence and who love God, is working directly for Heaven, Inc. - no unimportant job.
On the other hand, hard as I know it is to be hospitable, I have often found that this heavenly attitude is usually limited to a few families- and they are doing far more than their share of the work. I am beginning to believe that we are dealing with what is more of a moral issue than I realized. Let me explain.
If we homeschoolers are right, and the best thing for our children in the area we live in (some areas can provide great Catholic schooling and thus social outlets) is to educate them independently of the regular means, then we need support from other families: not want, but NEED support. Families in a feasible geographical area who are Catholics are each other's support systems. Sometimes we need to start a girls' or boys' group; sometimes we need to get together and clean someone's house who is sick so that they can homeschool; or be a counselor, a friend, when someone is down- but the principle, the attitude which must exist under all these activities is moral and biblical: "to clothe the naked, and feed the hungry, to give comfort to widows and orphans in their distress"- and from the Acts: "they shared everything, for the good of the community".
The most important thing a homeschooling family can do for the other homeschooling families in the area is to have a heart full of ready charity- not handouts (unless that is needed) necessarily, but a heart like God's: full of caritas, the love of God, the love of selflessness and open-ness to the needs of others. The heart that does not worry as much about personal likes and dislikes as what God thinks, the heart that learns to love with everything one has (always with prudence and the understanding of proper priorities). The beauty is, however, that the family which loves this way is often the richest spiritually- well, after all, we're dealing with the economy of God, not man.
Also, families have seasons: seasons of plenty in terms of finances and emotional well-being, and seasons of want on many levels. Other families must be flexible and ready to be back-ups- for the clubs or the tutorials, or the potlucks. Sometimes a family who has a sick mom is actually providing a center-point, a reason for the community to wake up and get together to help out. In God's economy, even sickness can be a good.
However, too often we let the three or so families who usually do everything to continue to do it until they simply can't do it anymore, and then suddenly the activities and support we took for granted are gone; or we base our willingness to do something on whether it is with someone we like or who treats us how we want to be treated. We cannot base real charity on fickle feeling, or natural 'simpatico', but rather on reasoned, willed faith and "works, without which, faith is dead." P.S.- this often brings a depth of supernatural 'simpatico', which makes the natural variety look like corn meal next to corn bread.
Some families have seasons of loneliness, especially just after moving into a new area. They are especially vulnerable as homeschoolers because there is no ready-made school group to plug into. Making friends can sometimes take a lot longer when there are few hospitable families in the area.
One family told me a story about how they had just moved and their children were lonely. The parents called a few other homeschooling families to ask for playdates, so that their children could get to know others- but amazingly, they receieved rather cold and vague responses. When I heard this, I wanted to personally punch the parents (of the vague, cold families of course). However, I was on my meds for poison oak so I knew this was a steroidal reaction. So I lectured them in my mind instead.
Really, though, this gets my dander up. It is too easy to get into a comfort zone, but we are PILGRIMS in this life, and we should always be ready to be charitable: all the more so because homeschooling families are especially vulnerable and needy: and for good reason. I believe there are some people (hopefully not me) who will have to answer to God for " ...if you have all wisdom, all virtue, but have not charity, you have NOTHING." This of course applies to many areas, to doctors and intellectuals and train drivers- but I believe that the family, whose foundations are being eroded daily in the larger culture, are especially the forum for charity: especially charity from those who should understand their obligations clearly.
Here's some tips: have a tea party for the little girls in the homeschooling group- how about once a month? Or start a late-night catechism for the dads every third Friday- provide salt-encrusted bread products and beer, too. Find out who is sick, and see if there's any way you can help- make this your silent, humble apostolate- your children will learn an invaluable lesson about charity from this. Start an email group like Barbara from New York did, where women from all over the place can email in questions and concerns, and get instant help from a huge source. Find the TORCH group in your area and become a servant. Be willing to be a substitute for the tutorial, or figure out how to start one. If you are part of someone else's group, DON'T BE FLAKY: remember that someone is putting out a lot of effort and hospitality to do it- either be a growth part, a consistent and helpful part, or don't sign up- do something else that you can be consistent with. Learn to do things that you don't really feel like doing, like trying to befriend the ones to whom you do not have a natural affinity, or the shy and hard to get to know. This is often the measure of charity.
Take care of your family: your own, and the larger family that God has placed in your area with you. Your life will be richer and God will be pleased. What greater good is there than pleasing such a good God?
