When we first moved to England in March 2008, I remember watching a TV doco on John Prescott, called The Class System and Me. I remember one particualr scene where he attended a regatta. The purpose of his visit was to talk to the up-and-coming leaders of society. The young men and women (usually) of privilege, who in the next 5-10 years would hold positions of wealth and influence in the UK.
True terror is to wake up one morning and discover that your high school class is running the country.
Kurt Vonnegut
He spent a great deal of time asking them about the schools they attended, the ‘networks’ they moved in, and their thoughts and feeling about the life of privilege that they lead. Not all of them came from families that could afford for them to be there mind. Some ‘average’ mum and dad’s worked damn hard, mortgaged houses and made great sacrifices to have their children attend such schools. Others where clever kids who through hard work and determination won scholarships on their own merits.
Now given that this was almost 2 years ago my memory is a little sketchy but I remember being flabbergasted by a statistics that Prescott quoted during the show. He said something like, 97% of the most influential jobs in our society will be held by 3% of the population- those who could afford the ‘best’ schools, move in the most ‘influential’ social circles and came from ‘families’ who did the same.
Absolute identity with one’s cause is the first and great condition of successful leadership.
Woodrow Wilson
Coming from Australia I found this statistic astounding. Not because we don’t have this kind of social snobbery in Australia, because I am sure we do. Growing up there, I never felt the divide between the haves and the have not’s that I feel here as an adult. My perception was and still is that the average Joe Bloggs is more likely to do something extraordinary in Australian (beside playing sport) than here, because he is not hindered (as much) by a caste system of snobbery, money, and ghosts of families past.
Last Thursday, I was watching the HoC Children, Schools and Families Bill Committee and was once again was statistically gobstruck. This time for good and this time the tears it brought to my eyes were accompanied by a shout of triumph.
During the broadcast Graham Stuart MP quoted a startling statistic (well it was startling too me). Mr Stuart reported that unlike children in main stream education, children who have been home educated are more likely to succeed beyond the level of education of their parents. Home education levels playing fields in our society.
No government can help the destinies of people who insist in putting sectional and class consciousness ahead of general weal.
Franklin D. Roosevelt
Children in the main stream education system whose parents did not finish school, go to college or university are less likely (statistically) to achieve beyond the level of their parents. Of course there are exceptions to this case and some children do go on to break through incredible barriers to succeed (in the worlds eyes).
Home education however is different. A child whose mother or father did not finish school, is just as likely to achieve academically as a child whose parent did.
Did you get that?
A child’s achievements in the home education realm are not dictated by their families previous achievements. Unlike children in conventional methods of education, home educated are neither held back nor propelled by parent’s achievement. Or where they come from in society. A child on a council estate who is home educated is just as likely to go on to further education as one in middle class suburbia!
Instead of being presented with stereotypes by age, sex, color, class, or religion, children must have the opportunity to learn that within each range, some people are loathsome and some are delightful.
Margaret Mead
Not only does this level the playing field for those who may be restricted academically by family ghosts and restraints, but it also is more likely to allow children in ‘high achieving’ families to make their own decisions and choices academically for their lives.
As I tossed these two lots of statistics around in my mind, the ones Prescott talked about, and those which Stuart read from, I started to understand why home education is such a threat on so many more levels.
If children can achieve beyond that which their family history says they should, then the elite in our society are under threat academically. Education may be about schools, halls and uniforms for some, but for a new breed of children, Education is about intrinsic, learning, fueled by passion.
If those who shouldn’t, do and not just because of who they know, or who daddy plays polo with, then I am beginning to understand a little more about why people are so threatened by home education.
And not only is it about position, class and wealth, but now factors like character, the ability to think outside the square, standing strong on one’s own conviction, being self motivated, being one’s own man and not easily bought, believing in what one does, and fighting passionately for it (for more noble reasons) may also start to become a threat to anyone who may be resting upon their laurels or dependent upon factors other than themselves.
Character, in the long run, is the decisive factor in the life of an individual and of nations alike.
Theodore Roosevelt
And then what about single parents, I am thinking especially marginalized single mothers, who the government is forever trying to drag away from the home and back out into the work force to keep the economic wheels turning while family units fall further apart.
If the single home educating mother, is as likely to achieve the same or better outcomes as a ’state’ education, then why not leave her to the job?
See that was the other statistic bantered around in Parliament last week- that children who are home educated are achieving as well as or better than the education that the ‘government’ provides IN SPITE of their family backgrounds.
Staggering.
Is it just the yet to be fully unleashed conspiracy theorist in me that marvels at those statistics?
Does not that cause even the main stream of you to ask some questions about what our government is really trying to do here?
“This is your last chance. After this, there is no turning back. You take the blue pill — the story ends, you wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. You take the red pill — you stay in Wonderland and I show you how deep the rabbit-hole goes.”
…”The Matrix is a system, Neo. That system is our enemy. But when you’re inside, you look around, what do you see? Businessmen, teachers, lawyers, carpenters. The very minds of the people we are trying to save. But until we do, these people are still a part of that system and that makes them our enemy. You have to understand, most of these people are not ready to be unplugged. And many of them are so inert, so hopelessly dependent on the system that they will fight to protect it.”
Morpheus- The Matrix
I wouldn’t go so far to draw the same lines as Morpheus does between friend or foe, as by that very definition my friends are foes. But I would ask you to let your mind go for a while and think about life not hindered by our own perceptions, opinions and generalizations.
I feel the need to write, but I am not sure what. There is so much floating around in my mind this week, that to know where to start is driving me crazy.
There are so many really eloquent blogs out there that expressing far better than I could, the thoughts and feelings of regular mum’s and dad’s, who have taken the journey off the beaten track- to travel roads less travelled. Mum’s and dad’s who are are struggling to swim against a tide of opposition that is starting to stink a little bit too much like crap.
Mum’s and dad’s that for all the government knows are doing a really great job at bringing up and educating their children. Yet, because they don’t know, or care little for the facts presented to them. Or are spurred on by their own failures with other sectors of the community, they assume the worst of us and plaster our ‘imaginary’ failures over media tabloids next to pictures of Baby P, just to really get the word associations going.
Home education = home abuse
This is the tawdry word association they are trying to make in the minds of all the other regular mum’s and dad’s in the country who are happily and obediently doing what they are told.
This week our champion of the cause, Graham Stuart MP outlined very clearly for his colleagues and the general Parliament tv watching public, that world wide statics show that abuse amongst home education families is at a much, much, much lower % than the general population and those whose children are in school.
And while some countries are rushing to tie us up in knots with legislation, countries like New Zealand and Canada, who have actually implemented a registration process to ‘keep track’ of their home education communities, are now reversing their decisions, because the GOVERNMENT’S statistical evidence just isn’t there to support the need for them. They are putting their funds in to supporting a community of people that are succeeding in what they do, rather than trying to pull their efforts apart.
A couple of weeks ago I stood in a church, I was there for a ‘Prophetic’ gathering of leaders. I had a conversation with one of these up and coming leaders. She asked me what I did and I told her, I was a mum. I had five children whom I home educated. I got the speil then about how it wasn’t very popular here.
Myth 1- It is more popular than you realize
I said to her. But people are feeling very marginalized and hurt by the government, so rather than being up front and open about it, some people are weighing very heavily what they say and who they say it too.
Ah she said, well it is a good cover for abuse.
Myth 2- there is little statistical evidence to suggest that parents who’ home educate are abusing or even likely to abuse their children.
As horridly evil as it was, Baby Ps’ case had NOTHING to do with home education. Yet pictures and names associate with that case are still being linked to home education. More recently the mother who pulled her 4 children out of public school to leave them at home while she traipsed around the world with her new husband, has nothing to do with home education. Those children died of malnutrition, that had started LONG before the words home education crossed lips. The SCHOOL failed to chase them up when they were poorly fed and cared for in their midst.
Then this week I read about two little girls whose mother and step father where charged. The girls frequently came to school stinking of urine, with bruises and lice crawling off them. It was a long time before someone in the system, took that case seriously, and yet again I and every other home educating parent- some how gets lumped in with the likes of these parents by default, just because we choose a different path than that more frequently trodden.
But it is not just the ’system’ failed them, the community at large that failed them as well. As a nation, and as a community, it is easy to banter around words like abuse, but where were the neighbors, the extended family, the friends investing in the lives of those children?
They weren’t there, because in regular main stream society, it just doesn’t exisit. Or there are whole networks of people feeding off and contributing to the abuse that happen in the lives of children in the system. Baby P’s family was well known to services, his mother had a string of abuse in her own childhood, her boyfriend known to departments and STILL they managed to kill that poor infant before someone woke up to the fact that it was really happening.
And some how, that has something to do with me?
As I started to tell the poorly educated, up and coming church leader, my children aren’t hidden away, they are part of a wider community, people see them, speak to them, interact with them. She nodded her head and said how great that was, but communities don’t work like that for everyone.
Then whose fault is that?
As a home educator, I have gone out of my way to make sure we live an exposed, truthful life. I tell the truth when asked, I will engage in conversation, in fact much to my own detriment and sanity I will argue the point black and blue with anyone who is willing to take up that verbal challenge. I won’t back down, I won’t except the bull %$*& that comes from people’s mouth, and I won’t wear crap that I don’t deserve to wear.
Myth 3- home educators do not like or even welcome those people who feel they need to constantly point out the ill informed and ignorant arguments people like the DCSF and media toss around to fear monger and create a non existent need for tighter controls or invasive methods.
Not once have I told another parent that they are wrong in sending their children to school.
Not once have I questioned another parents ability to parent their child because they choose conventional methods.
Not once have I suggested that perhaps they haven’t thought everything through.
Not once have I pointed out the failures I see in their children that I feel are caused by their schooling and parenting methods.
Not once have I suggested children with special needs, ‘may be’ sometimes better served in a home environment.
NOT ONCE…..!
Because I ultimately believe the parent and not the state is responsible for the care, protection and up bringing of our children. That means while I may not agree with some of your parenting decisions for your families, I believe in your freedom to choose as strongly and as passionately as I believe in my own.
You may not see it yet, but our lives are richly intertwined, and the changes the government DO affect you, they do change the powers and rights you have as a parent, and they will at some point affect your life.
My freedom = Your freedom.
The Holy Spirit has been on my mind and heart a lot lately. I have been enjoying watching the outpourings that are taking place at the International House of Prayer in Kansas, and part of me wants to jump on a plane right now and jump into that river.
Another part of me knows that the ‘river is here’.
As I watch what is happening in Kansas, I have been thinking about the skeptics and what they would say is happening.
The devil- makes the do it.
Flesh- makes them do it.
Emotion- makes them do it.
As I listen I love what Wes Hall repeatedly says the crowd of those soaking in the Holy Spirit, it is not the experience that counts, but what happens after. The real test for all of us who have had an experience of the Holy Spirit is how does it affect our lives?
Are we forever changed, healed, restored, reconciled, rebuked?
I have been in many meetings where there has been an ‘outpouring’ and people are as depressed the next day as they were before hand, sometimes more so because the ‘high’ has worn off.
It has been hard for me to see God in that type of experience.
Yet, as I read this week- if you judge with the flesh, you may just be criticizing God (Steve Sampson).
That quote has challenged me greatly about my perceptions.
How about you?
What is the Holy Spirit speaking to you about lately?
x
Written -Sunday, 30 March 2008
I took my son Joey for his daily toddle up the lane this afternoon. He loves it, and has really begun to look forward to this part of his routine. Being in a colder climate I plan this little outing for him otherwise we would be housebound all day long.
For me the daily toddle is a frustrating experience. I want Joey to walk to the end of the lane and home again, getting a nice bit of exercise and breathing in some fresh country air along the way. I don’t mind if he stops to admire the flowers, the horses, to jump through the puddles if he so desires, chat to me (and our fellow toddlers) along the way or any other thing that takes his fancy on the way up the lane. But I would certainly prefer a walk where both of us walk forward one way and then forward the same way home.
Joey is more creative (read stubborn) in his style.
He likes to walk a couple of steps forward. Shake his head at me, turn and go the opposite direction. I pick him up, walk forward, put him down, watch him toddle forward a few more paces, then prepare myself for the dash in the opposite direction.
It was during our habitual walk this afternoon that I noticed a very interesting thing about Joey.
Whenever he shook his head at me, he became unbalanced. His steps forward became more stumbley than usual and he lost his sense of direction. More often than not he would end up on his bottom in the gravely lane.
As I watched him do that, I wondered if that is how we look to God.
God has a plan for our lives, a focus for us to keep our eyes fixed upon- His son Jesus.
Sometimes we don’t like the direction being a follower of Christ leads us. Life often throws us curve balls that we neither expect nor want, and certainly don’t deserve. It is part of living in a world where sin and hurt are still a regular part of our earthly existence.
These are the times we have choices to make.
We can stand or even run from God shaking our head. But this may leave us off balanced. Then being unbalanced we stumble and fall, landing on our proverbial backside often physically as well as spiritually.
Or we can run towards the arms of our savior. Our Father, who loves us and tenderly wants to carry us through those times of hurt and uncertainty.
As frustrating as it is taking Joey for these walks, we will continue. He needs the exercise and the fresh air. He needs the training these little walks provide as a bi product. He needs the time to hold my hand and have my undivided attention for that small portion of time in my day. He needs me to smile and tell him I love him, praise His successes and guide him along the way with a firm but gentle hand.
He needs me to model for him the love and grace of God.
And I need to watch him as he learns these things, to remind me of my own short comings.
Yes it is that time again already.
For that part of the show where Ria comes out, with her handy dandy pocket packable soap box and has a go.
Not a go, in the sense of trying her best, although some may argue that she is very trying at best.
But no- in this case a ‘go’ at her fellow man kind.
And this month’s topic is
The Christian!
My rant today needs to start with a little confession.
Until I discovered the internet, I didn’t know there were so many flavors of Christianity around.
No seriously, there are more flavors of Christianity today than you will find at Ben and Jerry’s
I am a little miffed by it all.
I just don’t know how the average ‘person of another spiritual persuasion’ manages to keeps up with us all.
Now, I am not saying they are wrong, I am not saying they are right, I am just calling it as I see it.
I have come across a couple of different types in the blogging community alone.
The Experiential Christian
Whatever ‘feels’ good spiritually you are into.
You are ‘very’ in tune with the prophetic and the spiritual realm.
The bible, may or may not back up the messages you receive from the other side.
Because after all, God still speaks to us today.
You are very good at listening to your inner voice.
You may or may not be partial to flag waving and timbrel dancing (as I have be known to be), and you certainly believe worship should be best experienced as a full body experience, preferably in bare feet.
Next comes the…
Redecorating Christian
In fact you have set about, redesigning ‘Christianity’ in the traditional sense, and may have even Perkins pasted some other things into your bible as well.
In fact if you could start a whole new arm of Christian thinking you would do it.
It would be much easier to do this than to reconcile all the ‘hard’ bits to your world view.
The Dualistic Christian
You have one foot in the realms of Christianity, and another foot is firmly planted in the world.
You may sense a feeling of not belonging. You aren’t quite sure which world you fit into. You love God and don’t mind to read his word (the bible), but you feel far more comfortable in the world.
Jesus you are aware spent much time around prostitutes, tax collectors, the down and outs. You can find all of those in the local bar 4 nights a week on the way home from bible study on Wednesday.
People are often surprised when you tell them you are a Christian, but think it is cool that you don’t belong to the next category.
The Christian Oompa-Thumper
.
You better get out of my way now, because I have a bible, and I am not afraid to use it!
You will often see a trail of injured, weak and bruised individuals in the wake of this Christian. They have a bible verse for every situation in life, and it is already written out on a sticky note ready to be handed out at the next available opportunity.
While they may astound you with their bible knowledge, theology and doctrine, you are left wondering where they were during Socialization 101 class.
They may have the historicity of the bible memorized back to front but their social graces are a mess and as for clues?
Blue has a better idea.
My bible is bigger than your bible, it’s really big, heavy, black and has KJV written on the side in gold foil type Christian
That is all I am going to say about that one.
You fill in the gaps.
And to be honest, as a born again, bible believing, spirit filled, tongue speaking Christian, who is struggling to find her way … I have found myself in one or all of these categories at some point in my life.
So for this I need to apologise.
I do know this.
Matthew 11 says this…
28-30 t”Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recoveryour life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learnhe unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly”.
And
John 14 says
6-7Jesus said, “I am the Road, also the Truth, also the Life. No one gets to the Father apart from me. If you really knew me, you would know my Father as well.
(yes this is supposed to be tongue in cheek!)
The
Has the
of
and
and those
who
it, will
its fruit
What kind of fruit are you eating?
or
What kind of fruit are you dishing up?
or
Proverbs says
21 The tongue has the power of life and death,
and those who love it will eat its fruit.
James says
9With the tongue we praise our Lord and Father, and with it we curse men, who have been made in God’s likeness. 10Out of the same mouth come praise and cursing. My brothers, this should not be. 11Can both fresh water and salt[a] water flow from the same spring? 12My brothers, can a fig tree bear olives, or a grapevine bear figs? Neither can a salt spring produce fresh water.
I took one of those little quirky internet tests about how 1930’s am I.
Truth is… I am way to 1930’s for my liking.
I don’t even like panty hose- let alone know how to keep them straight!
So it got me thinking, how could I improve on (ie lower) my 1930’s house wife score?
So here it is Ria’s guide to dropping your scores on the 1930’s housewife test,
How to be a rotten wife!
1
Pout
For extra rottenness, couple it with key phrases like,
“I thought you loved me” and “But all the other husbands are letting their wives.”
2
Make the wrong investments with your time and energy
3
Demand, demand, demand-
and when you’re done, demand some more.
4.
Monopolize the remote control/s
5
Belittle him in front of his mates
6
Try to change him
7
Pay little attention to what he says
8
Talk loud, talk often, talk self
Make like velcro
Stick, stick, stick to him
10
Develop sudden unmedicatable headaches…
often!
* Big thank you to my own hubby for his tips- don’t know where he got the inspiration!
This is taken from a dream I once had.
It was a short story I wrote once for a writing challenge.
I hope you enjoy it.
~The Bench~
© Maria Dowse 2nd April 2008
The bench felt hard and warm under her body. It was a place she had come often over the years. It was her searching place. She had brought him here many times before, a long time ago when he was cocooned, protected within her young body.
They would come to this bench and watch the world float by in cloud patterns in the sky. She would sing him, her song- their song. Sweet, melodic, rhythmic. Each time the words were different, words of life, words of hope, words for his future. Always the tune remained the same, repeated soothingly with new words every time she sang it. Love was infused in every word, kindness was her harmony. She would feel him kick and dance around as he responded to her voice in his dark safe world
She was naive to think it would be like this forever.
She felt an odd kind of comfort in the hardness of the worn bench beneath her, she often reflected on life’s lessons from her hewn thinking place.
The years had given her much to reflect on.
Life doesn’t always turn out the way you dream. Especially youthful dreams. She had learned that the hard way.
Sometimes life happens to you. There is no choice on how it comes to you. You set out on the crest of life’s wave, your body glistening in the summer sun, the wave roaring beneath you, propelling you towards the shoreline of your dreams. Then quickly it over takes you. The master becomes the enslaved and without any warning you begin being tumbled and tossed by the force that is now above you
Then you land, splayed out on the shore of existence, spluttering, coughing, choking wondering if the past little while had lasted for a moment or for an eternity.
That is how she felt that day. The day they took her son. It was a different time then, the young didn’t keep their young.
The birth had been easy on her youthful body. She was subtle and he responded to the natural rhythms of her womb. She worked hard bringing forth her butterfly boy from his cocoon. The pain was sweet and rewarding and not for a moment did she resent the burning that marked new life.
Then the wave bore down.
As quickly as he had slid from her writhing body he had been ripped from her searching eyes. She caught but a glimpse of his cherub like features, his shocks of dark hair, his blood stained purpely red body.
She heard his first cries resounding though the hospital corridors as he was wheeled towards his future and away from his past.
Saltines filled her mouth. As she fought for breath the realisation of what was happening to her boy set in. Tears streamed down her face as she struggled to find her voice amidst the wave of emotion that had left her bedraggled and in disbelief.
He was gone.
They tried to comfort her with hollow words, their faces unrecognisable through her tear-stained eyes. Their voices droning out a myriad of excuses for stealing away her destiny. There was no melody here, just sounds resembling the scraping of finger nails upon the harsh black surface of her bleak reality.
He was gone.
Given to another.
Today the blue of the sky was fighting for a place of prominence behind the bleakness of the formless clouds. It was a strange place to be. She felt like she was held suspended in time, somewhere between the reality of her park bench and the bleached white haze of a hospital bed. Somewhere between her youth and middle age.
Today, all those years later the park bench called her home.
As felt herself pulled gently away from her memories, she unconsciously began to hum.
It was a sweet song, filled with promise.
Now reality began to envelop her slowly. And as it tugged her back, she saw for the first time seated beside her on the bench, was a young man.
She noticed he was gently rocking a baby in his cradling arms as he watched the formless clouds above them.
And as he rocked, he hummed.
Their song.
This week I deleted a Facebook friend. It doesn’t happen all that often, but this week it did.
It is a shame, I actually really like this girl, I consider her a friend, and most definitely still consider her to be a sister in the Lord.
Her status went something like this;
“sorry to all of you who have tried to contact me via Facebook, I am too busy living real life.”
I take this to mean, she has no time for anyone who is no longer in her ‘real’ life, so therefore isn’t really very interested in a relationship-so I let her go. I didn’t want she or me, just to be a Facebook friend number.
We now live on opposite sides of the world, we no longer go to the same church, and I have only seen her once in the past 20 months.
I have many friends on Facebook that I don’t see very often. Friends that I may only see once every 5-10 years, but I still actually consider them to be my friends, and I still love to keep in contact with them.
Sure I have acquaintances, internet buddies and people I went to school with. These people may ‘never’ be in my day-to-day life as such, but they are actually still in my ‘real’ life.
I am one of those odd people that haven’t really understood why people- often Christians are anti Facebook. I hear them talk about ‘real’ community, authentic community- face to face contact. I say here here, I support that 110%. But there are people on my friends list that are more vastly interested in my life, than some people I see face to face.
There are people on my friends list I have NEVER met, that pray for me more than people I have fellowshipped in churches with.
There are people on my friends list that I speak about God with, that I may NEVER have, had it not have been for the internet.
There are people on my friends list that I know if I say I am having a bad day, are genuinely interested and concerned about that comment, and want to know why.
We live in an age where the Internet has brought the world closer together like never before. This hasn’t always been for the best, but it isn’t always for the worst either.
I can keep in contact with family, watch nieces grow up and play games with people I like (if I want to). I have made some real gems of friends who live on opposite sides of the world and who I pray for regularly.
Personally I have found that the Body of Christ sometimes works in a far more fluid way over the Internet. Christian denominational aren’t s big an issue for some, theology and doctrine doesn’t have to be ticked or approved of, before you will accept prayer. And you may find your gifts being used to encourage, exhort, edify, teach, prophesy over, give a word of knowledge to, interceded for, or provide financial blessing (or other forms of generosity) to people you may NEVER have had a chance to bless ‘in real life’.
For me, Facebook and other forms of internet networking/community are what you make of it. I don’t have a ‘God’ box that only comes out in ‘real life’. I am as much a Christian on Facebook or my blog as I am face to face. Therefore where ever I go I have the ability to bring the presence of God into someone’s life. I have the chance to bless someone with my giftings, and show someone the love of God with how I act, speak or care.
If you want a network, then a network you will have.
But don’t be dish’n those of us who actually ‘get’ that God is with us always, and can be as much in an online conversation as He can be in a prayer meeting.
…you learn the subtle difference between holding a hand and chaining a soul,
And you learn that love doesn’t mean leaning and company doesn’t mean security,
And you begin to learn that kisses aren’t contracts and presents aren’t promises,
And you begin to accept your defeats with your head up and your eyes open, with the grace of an adult, not the grief of a child
And you learn to build all your roads on today because tomorrows ground is too uncertain for plans.
After a while you learn that even sunshine burns if you get too much.
So plant your garden and decorate your own soul, instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.
And you learn that you really are strong,
And you really do have worth by: Snow
