I first heard the
term “worldschooling” from
The Art of Simple. I was already planning our cross-country
trip when I heard about the Oxenreiders and their awesome around-the-world excursion. I
find it interesting that while planning our own trip this summer, I had inadvertently
arrived at many of the same conclusions as Trish about the nuts and bolts of
school on the road, what to pack, and life philosophy in general. I loved the
word right away. After all, how can it be homeschool when you are away from home?
This year, we have forsaken traditional
written curriculum in favor of a living, moving education as we traverse the
continent—at least for history, geography, and science. Our math and language
arts are still traditional by homeschool standards, which is pretty wide by
definition, but still it leans towards a fixed syllabus.
I have had a case
of wanderlust as long as I can remember. I probably inherited it from my Dad.
He retired from the Army and always spoke of his travels with that look in his eye. He said Vietnam was lovely, despite the hateful memories he had of
it, and how Shenandoah, Virginia was the most beautiful place he had ever set foot
on. He always had this crazy itch to move to Alaska. Mom didn't share this vision, but her reservations never stopped Dad from trying to talk her into it. So this dream of traversing the continent via RV surely stemmed from Dad's travel bug. Yes, Alaska is on our itinerary.
I have been
planning since June, when we learned that my husband was being transferred to
Texas from our current home in KY, which might be exciting if we hadn’t just
moved here from Texas a year ago with the same company, a good company, one we
don’t plan on abandoning, even for our retirement dreams. We were in the
process of buying a house, and it mercifully fell apart after the move was
announced. However, the house we were renting had sold, and we had a few short
weeks to get out. Enter travel dreams. We had mentioned cross-country RVving in
passing, as a retirement pipe-dream. Since we had a year in limbo, we thought, why not?
We bought an RV
and started planning. We rented a small, rustic, 2 room guest house from a friend.
No, we are not independently wealthy. John will eventually be living in the guesthouse without us, and the very reasonable rent fits into our housing-while-on-the-road budget. It is quite a downsize from the 2600 square feet we had been living in before, but we chalked it up to small living practice before the
trip, during which I plan on living and schooling our family in a 26 foot RV.
John can’t work
from home. It just isn’t an option, so the kids and I will travel mostly
without him. To answer your questions, yes, this makes us sad. It was really
the only cause for pause in our planning. I so wish he could experience this
with us, but a family trip of this magnitude will just never happen. He quickly
and whole-heartedly agreed to our plans, as the months preceding his company’s
move will be very busy and include very long hours. He can concentrate on work, and we
can occupy our minds with the sights and sounds of our adventure. We also planned a few rendezvous along our route, and will go
out and back, like a wagon wheel, so we can spend time together at home.
I originally
planned to leave Labor Day, but we just weren’t ready. We are newbs to
full-time RVing and had a few surprises, like how much it would cost to tow a
vehicle behind the RV. Yowzers. And I had no idea how complicated planning this trip—let
alone actually traveling with four kids and worldschooling—would actually be. So we are hoping to get on the road the first week of October now.
I have always
been on the impulsive side. I jump into a project with both feet and all my
heart. Maybe my head IS in the clouds sometimes, but I’m always committed.
Honestly, I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never driven cross-county, alone
with four kids, but I’m confident I’ll figure it out. We will learn as we go. I’ve
never been that scared of messing up. Anyone who knows me can tell you I’ve
done it plenty, but the benefit of jumping in--is the view. I hope my kids will
inherit Dad’s wonder, the wanderlust, the desire to try new things. I can’t say
I’ve ever been sorry for trying. I can't say I've often been sorry for trying.