Because of my involvement in progressive and gifted education, I am lucky to know people – many of them kids – who are prodigies in a variety of fields. I have met children who are speaking on a global scale about reform and literacy, who are designing acclaimed fashion lines, who are composing symphonies and making astounding breakthroughs in math and science. These young people are inspirations, and at the same time great sources of humility.
Last summer, a dear friend of mine asked me: what do you do if you don’t have a passion? She had been reflecting on my kiddos – on Ian’s drive to professional musicianship, on Eva’s early self-identification as an author. This friend, by the way, is an incredibly successful attorney, and one of the most brilliant and kind people I know. But she was struggling with finding that magic formula that Ian and Eva seemed to already possess: that of what you want to be when you grow up.
At the time, I sent her a verbose email and said a lot of Hallmark-card-worthy things like “most people have a lot of passions” and “everyone’s different,” and “passions don’t have to be grand to be valid,” etc. And all that is true. But it’s tricky. Because deep down inside, I think when we look at successful people – people who are so on fire about whatever it is they do – we want a piece of that. It’s a rush that we feel vicariously, and we want the real thing.
Also over the summer, I turned 40. I’m ok with that, really, but it’s a landmark age – one at which you begin to reflect upon where you’ve come, what you’ve accomplished, and what your worth in the world is at the moment. And this is what I’ve learned about myself: I am a restless person who loves to generate new ideas, but quickly gets bored with the follow-through. I need regular variety in schedule and activity to be content, but I also need to feel like I’m contributing to society in some way (hence the continual generation of new ideas). My short attention span is a frustrating quality – one that has gnawed away at me my whole life – because what it creates is a jack-of-all-trades-master-of-none type of scenario. And I really would enjoy being a master at something; to be able – like the rest of my family – to wake up in the morning knowing exactly what it is I wanted to do that day; to be able to say I’m a filmmaker, writer, musician, teacher or some other passion-driven one-word occupation. Though improving, “homeschooling” has such a mix of connotations in our society, that the word despite my best efforts, still does not delight in springing off my tongue. And my path as a homeschooler has offered its own set of complications, as it necessarily dictates how I spend my time. Is that my passion? Or am I simply bringing my passion to my necessary situation? Does it matter? I do genuinely enjoy my time with my kids, and I feel passionate about sharing the joy of our educational experiences with other children, both in and out of the public school system. So does it matter if it’s the chicken or the egg?
Because my path of homeschooling was not really a choice for me, however, I often wonder what I would have done if I hadn’t done this. Would I have found it? Will I one day once the kids have graduated? Or am I simply wired differently? Ian the other night reflected that his dad was a writer and filmmaker and teacher, that Eva was an aspiring author, and that he was a musician. He observed that I wasn’t something like that – that it appeared to him that I spent my life helping other people pursue their passions. He said it lovingly, gratefully. But I’ll confess: it bruised the old ego just a tad.
Because here’s the real truth: I have lessons to learn. Lessons that we preach to our children and to our adults. Lessons that I preached to my attorney friend last summer. You don’t have to be a master at something to be valuable. You don’t have to have a sexy one-word occupation ready on your lips for the next cocktail party. Though our society has conditioned our egos to want to say “I’m a ____,” in order to secure self-worth, this in itself doesn’t hold universal truth. That’s hard stuff to learn when we encounter people who are focused and driven in a particular field. But what’s really important is that we actively engage in the world and with ourselves, remaining open to our present experiences and situations that we encounter. That we bring passion to the coffee we make in the morning, to the songs we sing while we’re folding laundry, to the conversations we have with our kids while we’re toting them off to the next band practice, and for me – now – the style and quality of education that I make sure my kids and I experience together.
It’s the passion that’s key, not the subject we’re passionate about. That’s what we love about passionate people – their energy. Why else would we listen to TED talks on such a wide array of topics? From nuclear fusion to strokes, nutrition, posture, farming – we’re not listening because we have an undying fascination with biochemistry – we’re listening because we’re addicted to the speakers’ passion. And we find their passion contagious. So maybe we have an It. Or maybe we have lots of Its. But I do know one thing for sure: if we’re constantly worried about finding It, we’ll never really experience it.
For more on this topic, check out Cal Newport’s sweet little piece in the NY Times.
I’m a 46-year-old homeschooling mom who has “spent my life helping other people pursue their passions.” I refer to myself as an activist.
“Activist” is a great word! Nice choice -
I used to be an “activist” for my son (now aged 24) and I now have the great opportunity to exercise music, singing in choir (passionately !) No doubt, your passion will find you someday Gwyn. You’re such an open minded lady, that’s obvious, anything you might hear of, and don’t know yet is a potential passionate activity you should like to try
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Thanks Laurence! Actually, I do have a lot of passions, which is part of my distraction problem, as I never can seem to stick with one long enough to dig deep. Part of this is distraction, and part of it is the reality of my life raising and educating my kids. What I long for is the quiet focus time to commit to one or two things. I just wonder if I’d be able to choose!
I think it is a shared experience for many homeschooling parents of gifted children that their own intensity/possibly giftedness is a double-edged sword. On the one hand, a gifted, passionate educator guiding gifted,passionate children often results in amazing things (as your blog attests). On the other hand, as the parent, you do wonder at the opportunity cost – to yourself. Most homeschooling parents advocate helping their children “find their passion” and believe it so fervently that they cannot help but ask (when they have a moment to catch their breath), “What about ME?” And then you look at your kids thriving and you tell yourself, whatever the grand plan is, THIS has to be a part of it, a part of my destiny. But the nagging question does come up again and again. I think following a calling to be something like a writer, film maker, musician, etc is innately selfish – I don’t mean it in a bad way, just that all those callings require you to focus on yourself, your inner rhythms, thoughts, skills – and it requires constant and sustained attention to be good at any of these. As a mother who homeschools, you just don’t have that luxury – instead you spend most of your time doing everything else so your family has that optimal environment. Your own environment is a series of transporting, cooking, advocating, facilitating, worrying, compromises, self-educating, etc. Which you of course do well, and with a passion, because that’s just to sort of person you are – you can’t NOT throw yourself whole-heartedly into anything you undertake. But you do sometimes wonder, what if all that energy was thrown at “It”, that elusive “It” that we see our children enjoying, that we work so hard to help the ones we love most to find, so that they can be happy and fulfilled? When I read your blog, I was, like many others, inspired and impressed by the wonderful things you do with your family. However, I know how much effort it takes on your part to pull it off, and I know there would be a cost somewhere, and very likely that cost it to yourself. So, don’t mind if I give you a pat on the back from across the world – from one homeschooling mom to another!
Oh my goodness – did you just crawl inside my brain or what?? Yes, you’ve said it all perfectly, and it is something I have grappled with ever since I became a mother. And of course homeschooling only intensifies everything – the amazingly positive and the difficult too. Thank you for expressing myself so eloquently! And might I ask, where in the world are you so that I can give you a thankful pat right back?
Haha, all the way from New Zealand actually!
We can all do with a pat on the back for sure – not just mutual aggrandization, but a genuine I know what it is like, I know what you’ve had to do to do this.
I have to confess, I read this post of yours a week or two ago, but it kept HAUNTING me. It really spoke to me. Thank you for writing it. Like you, I have a hugely supportive and appreciative family, but sometimes it helps to hear from someone who walks the walk.
New Zealand! Oh my goodness, I just felt a little warmer in my bones, reading that. I’m so glad you found my honesty meaningful! I’d love to hear more about you – are you a native New Zealander or an ex-pat? How did you come to homeschooling? How old are your kids, and how do run your show?
Indeed, although the weather has been heat-wavish, my kids have been shivering, struck by a very virulent 48 hour bug, consecutively, with very little overlap, so now that they’ve recovered, dad and mom are feeling exceedingly tired! My children are quite a bit younger, 6 and 3, and never really been to school (except a bit of pre-school here and there). I really envy that you can mix public school with homeschooling where you are, it really seems (to me) the best of both worlds. As to how we homeschool … I might need a blog to say it all, too! But there are things that you do with your children that we do (obviously very modified, considering their ages, but similar in spirit). The reason why we chose to homeschool was that our eldest child did things very intensely, whether it was playing game after game of chess, or making knots, or whatever it was that fascinated him at the time. I just thought that if he went to school, he wouldn’t have the time to do what mattered the most to him. And ultimately, although there are many great reasons to homeschool, that gift of time is the reason why we homeschool.
Your reasons sound very similar to ours. I hope it’s working out for you! Incidentally, Ian worked with a fabulous composer from New Zealand over the weekend, named David Lisik. I know it’s almost impossible that you would know him, but if you love amazing music, you should keep up with what the New Zealand School of Music is doing. I’m sure they have amazing performances there. Lisik is brilliant, and very kind.