Homeschool and the Education Cop

We got an e-mail a couple of weeks ago about truancy officers turning up at the homes of local homeschool families. In the state of Illinois, homeschools are essentially private schools. They have the all the same rights and privileges of any other educational institution. A truancy officer inquiring of a homeschool family is akin to a highway patrolman pulling over motorists for no real reason.

So, with this in mind I decided to compile a short list of suggestions in case the “education cop” comes knocking on your door.

1. Fight fire with fire.
   

   Truancy officers are primarily a product and functionary of bureaucracy. Take the officer’s name, title, agency, contact information, shoe size, favorite color, and American Idol pick. Promise to pass this information to the superintendent just as soon as he gets back and tell the officer to expect a call in two to five business days.

2. Use a prearranged signal to tip the children off.
   

   Approximately forty-five seconds after answering the door, a child should shriek like a burning cat. Apologize and explain you’ve been studying the Spanish Inquisition and you really need to go take care of that. (Don’t forget to lock the door. This sends the correct message that you don’t need any help.)

3. Dig a Burmese tiger pit. Don’t forget to warn the mailman.
   
4. Try to convert them.
   

   It is very difficult to talk about why the kids aren’t enrolled in school when someone is adamantly wielding the Sword of the Spirit to the edification of your everlasting soul. Use this to your advantage. If you are not Christian, that’s okay, borrow a bible from a Christian friend or order one from Amazon.

5. Grill the officer on state and capital names, the American presidents, English grammar, spelling, multiplication tables, etc. For greatest effect keep score and give prizes to the child (or officer) who wins.
   
6. Tell them you are in the middle of a class, but your office hours are from four to five, Monday through Friday.
   
7. Duct tape the officer to the wall while the kids explain the Law of Gravity and other applicable principles.
   
8. Cast the officer as Polonius in the HS Group production of Hamlet.
   
9. Ask if the kids may interview them for a report on Government in Action (subtitled Freedom: What makes America great.
   
10.  Don’t worry about it because you weren’t home when the officer came by. You were at the lumber yard buying project supplies,
    at the newspaper office, dairy farm, history museum, wildlife refuge center, or police station on a field trip,
    at music lessons, soccer practice, book club, co-op classes, 4-H, or just taking a nice walk in the park because you only need one-hundred eighty days of school a year and you schooled through the summer so you could enjoy  a really beautiful day when one came along.

Please add your suggestion to the list.

I don't get it...

humor - n. wit, a message whose ingenuity or verbal skill or incongruity has the power to evoke laughter

How many psychologists
does it take to change
a light bulb?

One, but it has to really
want to change.

Where, exactly, did this whole sense-of-humor thing come from? Is it something that's absolute or is it strictly objective? It seems to be the latter. At least as far as I can tell with my kids. My wife and I tell jokes and make witty banter throughout the day. (Perhaps we laugh only to keep from crying?) Anyway, the kids have quickly discovered that humor is well received and are constantly trying to participate as well.

Now here's the problem, at least from my perspective. While my own wit goes sailing over their heads like a weather balloon they return fire with a volley of knock-knock jokes that leave me waiting for the punchline. And I look like the goon when I don't laugh at the right time.


Don't get me wrong, I love a good knock-knock joke.

'Knock knock.'
'Who's there?'
'Interrupting cow.'
'Interrupting c-'
'Moo.'

It's funny, right? What I struggle with is jokes with a punchline like 'Flying-chicken vegetable-head.' I know, kids are learning, in this case they are learning the concept of a joke. They grasp the format, but they have a hard time understanding why one thing is funny and not another. We're working on improving the content so we get to more real laughing and less weak 'Ha-ha. That's a good one, son.'

The second issue is the vast chasm that exists between what a kid thinks is funny and what an adult with a more, uh, 'sophisticated' sense of humor thinks is funny. I'm reluctant to use that word, sophisticated, because I know fathers and sons have been sharing the working of Mel Brooks and The Three Stooges for generations now.  All the same, the subtly of satire or parody is lost on children who think in such concrete terms. To be fair, the comedy of bodily functions is mostly lost on me.

Perhaps it's possible to close this gap, to bridge the chasm and find common humor. After all, I'm a huge fan of animated movies including Shrek, Ice Age, Over the Hedge and more. Yet I'm not always sure we're laughing at the same things. I love Donkey's quick and wordy sarcasm while the kids seem to think the gross humor of an Ogre lifestyle is the height of comedy.

Whatever the solution, I encourage everyone to share laughter with your kids, help them learn the joy of finding humor in life's difficult situations. Teach them to look for irony. And for crying out loud, teach them so decent jokes so they don't get that confused deadpan at the jr. talent show.