africa

i did a brave thing this week: i went to the zoo. and no, this is not an animal story. i went to the zoo with a group of very nice people whom i have been fearful, shy, excited, nervous and reluctant to meet for almost a year: the homeschoolers of zuid holland. when we first decided to keep isabelle home in january of this year, i signed up for the homeschooling mailing list, but after one greatly helpful phone conversation with the moderator, i basically stopped looking at the list and never got around to meeting any of the people. not that i didn't think about them. in fact, i thought about them most of the time, these fascinating people i had never met. they were my joker, my wild card, my 'if all else fails, i can always...'. and as the year progressed, they acquired mythical proportions. as did my fear.

then last week, i happened to look in on the list and there was this idea of going to the zoo, and before i knew it, i had written to say we would be coming too, and with a wild beating heart, and my stomach in my throat, i went (together with marc, who was kind enough to drag his flu-ridden body along to help me with this) (i have a goood husband). turns out they are normal people. lovely, friendly, extremely normal people. who just happen to have made certain choices with regard to their children which happen to be the same choices we have made.

and meeting them was amazing. because it meant putting down this big heavy back-pack i didn't even know i had been carrying. i had not realized, until tuesday, how very lonely i have been feeling. how isolated. how misunderstood. how insecure too, in this BIG thing, this NOT sending isabelle to school. not that i ever doubted the rightness of the decision itself, but it has been such a heavy, serious thing.

and it has made me hold back too. when things got rough, which they do periodically, i did not dare to speak, to voice my doubts and fears, because whether you said it or not, you good people who love us, i could hear it in the back of your head ('i am worried that she is lonely' 'you should send her to school'; 'i am afraid that she is not learning anything' 'you should send her to school'; 'it sometimes drives me up the wall that she is constantly here with me' 'you should send her to school'). and the reason i could hear it is because it was in the back of my head too.

i've been thinking about this: it's as if every time i say i'm having a bad day, someone says 'you should move to africa':

- i had a bad dream last night
- you should move to africa

- i've had this pain in my chest for a few days
- you should move to africa

- i am worried about losing my job
- you should move to africa

and now, since tuesday, i know people who know what it's like to live right here. with all the doubts and worries and fears. and the joy, the fun, the freedom. the sheer exhilaration. of not moving to africa. of not even thinking of moving to africa.