Special thanks to my homeschooled son for showing me this.
Also, Tuesday afternoons: Range Day with Dad is actually a thing.
Special thanks to my homeschooled son for showing me this.
Also, Tuesday afternoons: Range Day with Dad is actually a thing.
Tagged homeschooling
As a homeschooling father, I have come to accept that my days will be taken up with the bizarre.
Case in point: this evening, as I sat and watched one of my favorite movies – Frequency* with Jim Caviezel – alongside my two teenagers, my wife, and our Jack Russell Terrier snuggled next to me, I worked on a geometry test. Why, you ask, did I do such a thing? I am teaching my kids geometry, and I haven’t studied it in depth in 30 years. When I was a classroom teacher, I taught theology, which was much more in my wheelhouse. But I was not immune to the concept, common to all teachers, of simply staying at least one-half step ahead of your students. And so tonight, I, Teacher Daddy, prepped for tomorrow’s lessons, by seeing if I could pass the online test myself. Aced it.
As a sidenote, I do not like online courses, but this was the best option for me and the kids with this particular subject in this particular time. I have chosen to make the most of the situation simply by referencing the e-book, and doing what I do best, which is teaching. Fear not. My whiteboard and dry erase markers are certainly being put to good use.
And that brings me to the main point here. Although I could simply teach my kids the Catholic faith proper – doctrine, liturgy, prayers, spirituality, etc. – I recognize full well that all things point to the Creator. When my daughter asked me today when she would ever use the material we have been covering of late (all things geometric), I told her quite honestly, “The math is a reflection of the mind of God which He imprinted into our human nature. And the logical steps one must take in order to prove the proofs will help you in defending not only His existence but, in fact, EVERYTHING.”
So there you have it. To all my fellow homeschool parents out there, keep at it. It may seem pointless and arduous at times, but it is well worth it in the raising of your children as saints.
Also, my daughter then quipped that most people her age are actually brainless and that she’s already well ahead of the game. Smart girl.
By the way, I found X. Little bastard was hiding in the corner like a Bergoglian pansy cardinal. See figure below.

And speaking of raising children… I would like to take a moment to address fathers of adolescent boys specifically. I have recently come across a series of videos on YouTube by the Franciscan Friars Minor. If you have a teenage son, check out the short talk embedded below. The subject matter is a little delicate, but absolutely necessary for your son’s salvation. God gave him to you. And he gave you the task of making him a man. And all men at some point in their lives will struggle with impurity. Make sure you take this bull by the horns and don’t shy away because it’s awkward for you. Your son will learn by your example how to be a man of virtue. He will one day, if not immediately, respect you for tackling what is difficult. I think Fr.’s points might get lost in some of his examples (not sleeping on one’s stomach, for instance), but let’s be 100% honest here. We all know what he’s talking about. Men are built differently than women. And all men must guard themselves against impurity, and that starts by being trained properly, lovingly, and tactfully by the man they admire most naturally– their own dad.
*Frequency is a good movie. There are (and I hadn’t remembered this) a few instances of the blasphemous use of God’s name where I found myself and my kids bowing our heads and saying “Blessed be the name of God”. If you choose to watch this movie, I recommend highly that you use a scrubbing service like ClearPlay.
Our Lady, Seat of Wisdom, pray for us!
One of the things I love most about homeschooling (or as I think of it, simply raising my kids) is that I am not bound to the schedule of any “outside”, “institutional” facility. There is a certain amount of being mentally locked to a calendar that cannot be avoided. For instance, we will always take breaks for the more formal book learning in much of the summer.
That being said, around these parts of the country schools universally have the kids back on the cellblocks in the classrooms by the middle of August. To this I draw deeply from my Jersey roots and say, “Yeah…. No.”
Here’s the history of that for some reason. When I first moved to Texas I, my father-in-law – God rest his soul – explained to me that, many years ago, schools would begin in mid-August in order to allow the school kids a sufficient break by early October. Why did they need that break in October? To help bring in the cotton harvest, or course. That certainly explains a lot. There would have to be a huge reason why you’d subject children to being in (at the time) un-air-conditioned classrooms in the hottest month of the year.
Even though no children are required to bring in family cotton harvests these days (though it might actually do them so good), schools still start in mid-August. “Just the way it’s always been,” I guess.
My point in all of this is that my children and I are still enjoying our last week of downtime. I’ll start when I’m good and ready and right now that’s looking like next week. That is, next week for the “formal learning” as I mentioned above. That’s the kind with the books and all…
True learning never stops.
Our Lady, Queen of Families, pray for us!
A reader in Australia, who’s acquaintance I am pleased to make and who has not (miraculously) fallen off the bottom of the earth, recently wrote me regarding homeschooling. He and his wife are committed to the idea and will be forging an incredible path forward as a family. Keep them in your prayers.
As I wrote to him earlier today, there are three things to keep in mind.
1) God gave you and your wife alone the specific Grace to do this (educate your children). 2) Even on days when it feels like no formal learning is taking place, your kids will learn more just by being with you. 3) The alternative is diabolical.
As the old song says, “See you in September!”
Zero Hedge had an article today about a former principal who quit her job to homeschool her kids.
As a former vice principal who did the same thing I say,
“Bravo! You are making the best decision you will ever make for your children!”
Check out the article and email me if you’re on the fence about fulfilling your God-given duty to teach your own children. I’m happy to answer any question.
St. Aloysius, pray for us!
I’ve jokingly written titles in the past related to why I homeschool my kids and why you should homeschool as well. But this time it is no joke. Listen carefully and take heed. Some of you may disagree and others may not like what I will say. I thank you for your interest. Nonetheless, here is the story.
I committed my life to teaching others when I was younger. I committed my life to teaching the Catholic faith. I was not a “traddy” then. I was just me – a Catholic man who was raised to go to daily Mass and to live the faith.
I had been homeschooled by pioneering parents. I am the fourteenth in my family. There are two more after me – my twin sister died in childhood and our youngest sister. One day in 1989, while watching an episode about homeschooling on Donahue of all things, my mother, the every loving and ever street smart New Yorker who never feared anything, stated that she herself was going to teach my younger sister and me. My father, no coward himself, protested. “You can’t do that! What if doesn’t work out?!” She replied, “I wasn’t supposed to have 16 children either. And if it doesn’t work out, so what? Is there really a school on earth that won’t take them back?”
And so in September of 1989 in Newark, NJ, I began my education in earnest. We used a program (Seton Home Study) and I quickly adapted to this new life. I loved it. I learned that there was so much more to learn than I’d ever realized. And I learned most importantly that I loved learning and I really loved teaching. You see, I became autodidactic. I began to teach myself. I picked up my books and I learned at my own pace – with a mother and father to guide me – and I devoured the truths of the faith and I fell in love.
Years later, after college and graduate school – we’re no dummies, us homeschoolers – and after a brief stop off in the world of TV production, I fell into a quite natural career as a Catholic school teacher. I laughed the first day I walked into a high school classroom because I had never been in one before. And again I fell in love. I had been given a chance by God to share what I had learned with a new generation. I loved my students. I loved the faith. God was very good to me.
I rose through ranks. I served as an administrator in a few different Catholic schools.
And then things changed.
Fifteen years and the Coof lockdowns both taught me a lesson.
Let me address the latter first. I will try to refrain from being graphic but I can’t make any promises. In July of 2020 my older brother committed suicide. He was older by 13 years. When he was young, my parents were still trusting that the Catholic schools would teach him the difference between right and wrong and that murder – even of yourself – was a mortal sin and what mortal sin even was. There were many factors. He was a classic “social animal”. The lockdowns hurt him tremendously and I come one step shy of hatred for all those who imposed that nightmare on the world. I hope they don’t have a clue the evil they unleashed. He was also a product of his generation. By his early 50’s, he had been in the “care” of a psychologist who thought that prescribing antidepressants for years was a good idea. There is a special place in hell for people like that.
The pain… I still cry for him. He was my big brother. I hope and pray God has mercy and overlooks. The pain for my mother that night. At 82, no woman should have to hear those things. The pain for his wife. I still imagine what it was like to find her husband hanging in the garage like that. The pain for his kids to lose their dad like that. And I cast my abject sorrow to God and to the Blessed Mother.
That was but one reason why I knew I had to take my own kids unto myself.
But I also realized something else.
It was around that time that I began to notice intensely that it only takes one kid to ruin one other. With my brother it was likely a combination of things but the school environment did not help. And I could see this clearly from my own years of teaching. Sure, the misguided and malformed teachers of his day didn’t help. They not only failed to teach him right. They actually taught him wrong.
But let us consider the other students. I saw it. You see it too. And it doesn’t take but two minutes of honest soul searching to know what I’m talking about.
First of all, I want to tell you that in fifteen years I literally witnessed kids get dumber before my eyes. I started teaching The Screwtape Letters one year. The high school juniors in my care could understand and discuss it with me. Six years later I had to walk them through, line by line. Something had changed. I witnessed a seismic shift from a handful of kids on “medication” to treat a disorder we used to call hyperactivity in boys to almost universal acceptance that every child – boy and girl – was also disordered and needed brain-altering drugs to remain calm. Throw a year or more of “online learning” into the mix and boy would that be fun… But I saw it very clearly at the end. Social media – the devil’s playground – and anti-hyperactivity drugs – the devil’s candy – were clearly taking their toll.
It only takes one disgruntled kid who’s parents don’t know or don’t care that they’re on Tik Tok and the whole classroom is toast. This isn’t to say that every student is weak. But think about it. You’re supposed to turn over control of your kids’ formation as human beings for 8-12 hours a day to an adult you do not know and 20 other kids who’s families you do not know. That’s a lot of time and a lot of other influences. Think about it. And think about how even one deviation from how you would deem it appropriate to form your kids, in the hands of another, can change the future of the world for good or for ill.
Your children are the most precious gifts God gives you. They are your charge from Him to raise up to Him. Turn them over to others or do it yourself. The choice is yours. And don’t think you can’t do it either. He gives the grace to do what He asks of you and He never disappoints.
It isn’t easy. We struggle daily with the attacks of the devil – especially the sin of sloth – but we pull ourselves together. And I always know both as a former teacher and a present father that no matter what, they are always learning more from me on days when we do nothing at all than they would in the outside schools on days when they discuss sex, trannies, and equity or in the so-called better schools where the other kids’ discontent rubs off on them.
They are my responsibility. I will care for them. I will teach them or I will die trying.
And in the end, if my children learn nothing more than that their father loved them enough to suffer the humiliation that comes with sacrificing career, prestige, and human respect in order to insure that they learn to know, love, and serve God, then I will have done my job.

Leave it to a dude to shatter that glass ceiling. I wonder how much trans-violence against cis-kids will figure into every headline and sanctimonious social media slogan over the next few days.
Folks, I spent 15 years as a teacher and administrator. It was my job to keep my kiddos safe not only as the site manager in the classroom (which we’ve been conditioned to accept as cinderblock coffins thanks to cower-in-place lockdown drills) but also as the guy creating and implementing the response protocol for these horrific events.
This is why I homeschool.
It was bad enough when self-righteous teenagers started to argue with me about how many sexes there really are. It was bad enough having to worry about lunatics bursting in and killing people. Put the two together and it’s a special kind of nightmare scenario I refuse to face.
St. Elizabeth Ann Seton, pray for us!
Tagged homeschooling