Alone
From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were; I have not seen
As others saw; I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I loved, I loved alone.
Then- in my childhood, in the dawn
Of a most stormy life- was drawn
From every depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still:
From the torrent, or the fountain,
From the red cliff of the mountain,
From the sun that round me rolled
In its autumn tint of gold,
From the lightning in the sky
As it passed me flying by,
From the thunder and the storm,
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view.
~Edgar Allan Poe
This poem was one of my favorites as a teen. It totally summed up life for me: I saw things differently, perceived things differently, reacted to things differently. I was just different. I was proud to be who I was and was adamant that I be true to myself at all costs, a' la Walt Whitman. Problem is, that left me...well, alone.
When I began homeschooling in Lancaster County (PA), I joined a community of people who were conservative, religious, and bigoted, and they felt that they were right in being that way. I admired their moral fortitude, but I disagreed to my core with those morals. This new community put on a happy face when they welcomed me, but I was still different and felt alone in the world. As a friend put it, people looked at me like I was a three-headed squirrel. I just didn't fit.
Even when I tracked down the small underground of "inclusive" homeschoolers in that area, I was the oddball for not being "crunchy granola" enough. I was still different. And I was still alone. The three-headed squirrel strikes again.
Then I moved to Virginia. I can't say that I'm a Southerner at heart; I didn't get here as fast as I could, to paraphrase the bumper sticker. I came kicking and screaming. I still long for the "city life" I had in Lancaster County. But I feel as if I've finally found my community down here: Natural Learners of the Shenandoah Valley (NLSV).
It's not just that NLSV'ers are homeschoolers like my own family. It's not just that our children all play video games together, and sleepover at each other's houses on weekday nights, and trade YuGiOh cards with younger siblings, and go to concerts and movies together. And it's not just that my friends and I share similar approaches to parenting. That's all a fantastic part of this community, and some of the reasons that I love it so much.
But what makes NLSV my community are the women here. They are the most loving, supportive, and understanding people I know, and you won't find a higher concentration of smarts anywhere else on the planet. They are creative, fun, and open-minded. We brag to each other about our kids and ship them to each other when we need a break. I am both amazed and humbled by their mothering abilities. I can joke openly with them, share a drink (or ten!) with them, swear if I want to, and comment freely about the merits of Dan Radcliffe's abs or Brad Pitt's ass.
Homeschooler or not, each of us is "different" in some way; I've finally found a community that celebrates those differences. In this group, you can be a three-headed squirrel, as long as you don't mind the purple elephants.
So these days, I'm still different and loving it. Only now, I'm not so alone.
