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My story began
on a rainy afternoon.
It was after two
o’clock, and it was wet
and cold outside. I was
caring for my toddler
and enjoying a cup of
hot chamomile tea. To
me, life couldn’t get any better. My husband
was at his office, and three of our
children were in school “getting a good
education.” I was about to put another log
on the fire when the telephone rang. It was
the guidance counselor from my oldest
son’s school. Her voice was professional
and cold. Almost as cold as it was outside.
She informed me that my husband and I
needed to come to the school the next day
for a parent-teacher session. Unpleasant
thoughts flooded my mind.
I was comforted by the fact that my
husband and I had informed the school’s
officials that we were available whenever
necessary. I was PTO President and
Chairman of the Advisory Board. I was
very involved in my children’s school
life. So, all was well—my being involved
assured an excellent education for my
children, right? I was deceived. Nothing
could have prepared me for what I was
about to hear.
When we met with the counselor, she
informed us that our son, Eric, was failing.
When Eric had entered the school,
his grade point average was 3.0, the minimum
to attend this facility. She told us
that his grade point average had dropped
to 2.8—a blight on the reputation of the
school. The counselor said that we had two
choices: place our son in a school across
town or have him repeat this grade next
year if he remained at this school. The
counselor assured me there was no hope
that my son could bring his grade point
average up again—and this was November!
I pleaded with the counselor. I would
work harder with him. He would bring his
grades up. My husband and I would see
to it. I promised her. But it would not do.
The counselor’s position was firm. Her
suggestions stood.
As the counselor rose to coldly escort
us out of her warm and comfortable office,
tears welled in my eyes. I could not
look at my husband. I was embarrassed
to think that maybe he was tearing up as
well. You see, our hope and faith were in
the educational system. Dr. Martin Luther
King Jr. had given us all a dream. But
what I have come to know now is that, as
respectable and great as Dr. King’s dream
was and is, it was his dream for Black
Americans. Having shared that dream
for many years, I know now that God was
giving us a dream that would encompass
Dr. King’s dream but raise our family to
a far greater level. God gave us a dream
that our children could own and realize,
one that would reach into the generations
of the Burges family for eternity.
When we got home that evening, my
husband and I went into our bedroom to
discuss the problem. At first there were
no words to describe our pain. After I
cried on my husband’s shoulder for minutes,
sobbing and sniffing, something began
to stir in my spirit and heart: a vision
of having my children at home with me.
You see, I was exhausted with the ripping
and running anyway. I was exhausted
with raising money for equipment when
overburdened teachers were making copies
of books for children in overstuffed
classrooms. I was exhausted with rising
early in the morning to whisk my young
ones off to be away from me for eight or
more hours a day. I was tired of seeing my
children come home late in the evening.
There was more to the crying on my
husband’s shoulder than our immediate
problem. I was crying for the death of
what society wanted me to believe. I was
crying because I was in a web of confusion,
one that I thought had no solution.
What I did not know was that I was very
deceived, like so many other black parents.
I was crying, but this death would
sprout life—the life of a vision that began
to take over my being and usher me
into the beginning of a new life. I asked
my husband if I could teach our son at
home. He looked at me like a cow looking
at a new gate. I thought about Booker
T. Washington. He started his own educational
plan. I would do the same. My
husband asked many questions: “What
do you mean, home what? What is this
‘homeschool’?! Who has ever done this
before? Do you know anyone who does
it?” Of course I could not answer any of
his questions. I asked him to find someone
who homeschooled. The next day he
called our local church and found a family
who was homeschooling.
The reason for the stirring was that
four years earlier I had met a family who
were homeschooling their children. The
boys were well mannered and polite. This
impressed me. Well, we met with the family
at our local church. They took us under
their wing, and the rest is history.
Our oldest son now has a career in
the military, having served in Iraq for
one year. He serves with the 82nd Airborne.
He boasts that having a personal
relationship with Christ was the one thing
that mattered while he was in Iraq. Our
second son is studying piano and music
composition in the School of Music at our
state college. Our first daughter is also in
college studying to become a research biologist.
This year we will be graduating
our fourth child from homeschool. She
is an accomplished pianist and a strong
advocate for family issues. She will continue
studying at home. I am still homeschooling
my 10-year-old daughter, Victoria.
You see, we were very involved in
our children’s education, not just in their
“school life.” I am taking my time with
Victoria and enjoying it!
The blessings of homeschooling run
deep and the roots stretch far. It’s more
than academics. It’s virtue. It’s victory.
I am not pretending that homeschooling
removes all ills, but I must admit that the
problems are minor. I will boldly say that
if parents truly turn their hearts toward
their children in every way, in every circumstance,
in all activities, and in all affections,
the hearts of the children will be
turned toward the parents.
I knew that the odds were against me,
but because of that I strongly knew that
God was not against me. He was for me.
Even my husband doubted but came along
as a willing supporter. We knew that our
family and friends would not support us.
Many of the families in the support group
were anything but friendly, but this did
not offend me, because I was not looking
for friends. I needed information and
counsel. The seasonal loneliness did not
compare to what I wanted to give my children—
a strong relationship with each one
and a fine education. This meant more
to me than the need to be accepted or
supported.
I have taught my children this principle
of “standing alone.” Because we were African
Americans who had chosen the narrow
path, we knew that our road was to
be one less traveled by. We are pioneers
on a new frontier, and every area of our
lives is affected by this truth. God raised
our family to be the biblical Joseph, first
for ourselves and then for our people. My
children needed to be strong and confirmed
in their Godly reality. Our older
children see this even more now. We do
not regret our decision to homeschool nor
our commitment to the kingdom building
of our family. My husband and I are now
advocates for home education and whole
family life.
My younger children are learning excellently,
and my adult children still ask
for our counsel. We encourage them to
remember the importance of listening
to their spirits and deeply seeking God.
They still consider us a part of their developing
structure. The influence that we
have in their lives is priceless. I encourage
parents to live the good life before their
children. Walk more and talk less. Children
see what we do not say and will tend
to perform it more than when we preach.
Let your children see you loving, learning,
and loving each other. I know that
the best gift I can give my children is for
them to see that I love and adore my husband.
This sustained me when times were
slim and pickings were small. Daily and
openly love God. Worship Him and praise
Him before your children at home.
Give your developing young sons your
essence and your beautiful young daughters
your passion. Sons need your essence
because, as they develop into men and life
gets tough, they sometimes can’t open
their mouths, or they do not know what
to say. But if they can feel or sense the
strong, wooing presence of Godliness on
the inside, it will carry them over until
God provides an escape. Young daughters
need your Godly passion and fiery spirit
because they tend to grab anything firmly
and run with it. But they will remember
the one thing that mattered greatly to
you—your passionate love and unquenchable
fire for your Father. Remember, our
children will do as we live. Make sure it
is consistently Godly and positive. It is a
good thing!
Joyce Burges and her husband, Eric,
have homeschooled their five children
for 16 years. They founded the National
Black Home Educators resource network
in July 2000 in order to encourage, support,
and offer fellowship to families exploring
the benefits of home education.
For more information, see their website
at www.nbhe.net. Joyce also speaks to
women and girls around the country on
such topics as homeschooling, femininity,
integrity, and service.
Copyright 2006. The Old Schoolhouse Magazine, Summer 2006, pages 58-59.
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