We Had To Be So Much More Amazing: Samantha Field’s Story

Samantha Field blogs at Defeating the Dragons, and she was recently featured in a Christianity Today story entitled, “Finding Faith After Spiritual Indoctrination.”

I’ve been reading the stories Homeschoolers Anonymous has published since it launched, and at first didn’t feel comfortable sharing my own experience with homeschooling, since it was unlike most of what I was reading. But, through reading these stories, it’s helped me come to grips with some of what I went through.

I’d like to start out by clarifying that my experience was fundamentally different– and yet, somehow, eerily the same. I spent most of my childhood in an Independent Fundamental Baptist (IFB) Church, and for that reason we were never part of the larger homeschooling movements — at least not organizationally. We didn’t use PACES, I’d never even heard of ATI until I went to Pensacola Christian College, we never went to any conferences, I didn’t travel in debate. In fact, reading about these stories made me slightly jealous; because of the cult-like environment of the church I was raised in, I never had the opportunity to interact with anyone outside of my church. I had one friend — one — from the time I was 9 until I left for college at 17.

But, until recently, I would have said that my experience with homeschooling was a favorable one. I started studying logic in third grade, I started studying Latin and Greek in fourth grade, I started reading the classics of the literary canon at nine. I skipped fifth grade entirely — fifth and sixth grade in math. I always tested extraordinarily well — I started testing on the graduate level in seventh grade, and I got a nearly-perfect score on the verbal portion of the SAT (I deliberately answered one of the questions “wrong” because I felt that the question was asking for a “liberal” political opinion). When I went to college, I maintained a 4.0 GPA my freshman year, and made the Dean’s List for every semester thereafter. I never needed to study — in fact, attending classes always felt like I was being “spoon fed” my education, when I had grown used to learning everything I needed to know simply from the reading. I went to graduate school and got a Master’s degree in English — and, again, did very well academically.

It took me a long time to realize that the academic excess I experienced had its good and ugly moments. The good was that I was an excellent reader, and I became a fairly decent writer and editor. It also gave me a lot of time to study music, and that paid for my first year in college.

There are a few ugly sides, and the first was the extraordinary amount of pressure I felt academically. I imagine many, if not most, homeschoolers can attest to the unbelievable amount of expectations we had to live up to. We had to be so much more amazing than any other kind of education. My parents were immeasurably proud of my achievements, and they lovingly wanted to “show me off,” but the constant pressure to perform resulted in a sense that the pressure followed me everywhere– even into college. I felt like I was constantly and unceasingly being evaluated by everyone I knew. I became an overachiever — to the point where several of my professors repeatedly had to tell me to calm down, relax, and do less work or I was going to kill myself.

Another facet of how homeschooling failed me was in mathematics, and I think my experience is fairly standard. Both of my parents are incredibly intelligent — my father works in a STEM field, and my mother did very well in math. However, while I was in high school, neither of them had a college education (a sacrifice my mother made, ironically, in order to stay at home and homeschool us) — and I was surrounded by an attitude that women didn’t belong in STEM fields because we’re just not suited for it. Our brains aren’t wired that way. So, I grew up believing that part of my identity of being a “good, godly, Christian woman” was being terrible at math. This became a self-fulfilling prophecy, even though I excelled in geometry and musical theory (which somehow were “artsy” so I was “allowed” to be good at them). When I met my husband, some of our conversations centered on his insistence that I would be good at math if I ever tried — and my insistence that no, I wasn’t. Until, one day, he explained algebra to me on a road trip. And it made perfect sense– so much sense, in fact, that I wondered why it had seemed like complete gibberish before.

And some of the things that get so heavily praised in the homeschooling movement ended up being unhealthy for me in the long run. We were isolated– we called it “being called out” and “separate,” and we laughed at people who asked us about “socialization.” We went to Wal-Mart in the middle of the day, and someone would inevitably ask what I was doing there. I would say that I was homeschooled, and without exception they would ask if I was “special needs.” And then, inevitably, I’d have to mount a defense for homeschooling.

As I’ve moved into my adult life, I’m beginning to see how deep the influences go. While we weren’t involved in any type of official organization, I grew up familiar with the Pearls, the Wilsons, and the Vision Forum. I read Beautiful Girlhood and believed that daughters should stay at home until they’re married. Now, I find it incredibly difficult to interact with people in a group setting, and it has nothing to do with not being familiar with “pop culture” (although that is occasionally a factor). I am completely hopeless at reading people, I don’t understand basic social interactions, I can’t navigate basic things like class discussions — even though I am articulate and outgoing. I’m frequently disabled by self-consciousness and nerves, and find it difficult to find a balance between silence or speaking too much. I don’t know how to do simple things like create boundaries with people.

I’m moving toward healthiness, slowly. It’s difficult, and hard going, but it’s happening. And part of my recovery is recognizing that even though I pretty much had the “ideal” homeschooling experience, it was still unhealthy.

23 thoughts on “We Had To Be So Much More Amazing: Samantha Field’s Story

  1. Lana April 17, 2013 / 11:20 am

    I had a lot of pressure too, but my mom emphatically believed I was stupid, or stupider than boys, and so I always had to live up to what I was not, with the pressure to to always make 100s. It wasn’t until I went to college and made straight As that I realized that I wasn’t stupid, and my mom had been setting me up to failure.


  2. Julia April 17, 2013 / 2:31 pm

    Thank you for your perceptive post. I send my children to a good public school and have a few of my childrens’ classmates pulled out to be homeschooled. I’m sure their experience is very similar to yours: high academics, very low on socialization (and a firm belief that socialization is for the unwashed masses). I see one family at the grocery store every once in a while. There is something very sad about late-elementary or middle school children dragging behind their mother in the middle of the day, when my own children are at recess or sneaking each other notes during social studies or getting excited about the school dance. I don’t think I exaggerate when I say public schools are part of the backbone of society, and areas with large numbers of homeschoolers are at risk of society’s fabric being torn apart. Our public school is far from perfect, but I would never dream about homeschooling a child unless this child is special needs and is absolutely unable to attend any type of school.


  3. lanamhobbs April 18, 2013 / 4:14 pm

    “We had to be so much more amazing than any other kind of education. My parents were immeasurably proud of my achievements, and they lovingly wanted to “show me off” – I felt this way too! i felt like i had to prove the worth of homeschooling against anyone who doubted that it was the right/best method. Even into college I had to prove how prepared i was by excelling at everything… But I had do it without seeming very stressed and while still having time for my family because a person should be balanced. The pressure was partially external and partially internal, but completely unbearable… Thank-you for writing about this problem, i’m sure many other homeschoolers feel this way too.


  4. mytruenameisjoy May 15, 2013 / 3:37 pm

    Reblogged this on My true name is Joy. and commented:
    This is an interesting and thought-provoking description of one woman’s experience with some of the academic consequences of homeschooling. I can totally identify with the inordinate pressure to perform — allegedly because “everything we do, we do for God” but really because it was our job to demonstrate that homeschooling produces much better young ladies than any other schooling method. The anxiety this can cause during childhood and well beyond into college and career almost can’t be believed unless you’ve been there. It’s a crippling and everpresent anxiety over your potential to fail to excel, (weird as that is to parse). And going from a patriarchal homeschool cult-like environment where speaking up is dangerous and possibly very discouraged to a university setting where suddenly, one third of your course grade hinges on “participation” – (interpret as: stepping out of your place as young lady by expressing your own thoughts while navigating a no-man’s-land of social norms and classroom customs which may include needing to slip your comment in when MEN are still waiting to speak or needing to express a thought you aren’t 100% sure is accurate) is like stepping out of crazyland into a busy street on a foreign planet. Stressful doesn’t begin to describe it! 😉 It’s great to hear others’ experiences of this, because otherwise I start to feel like I’m the only crazyland expat in this solar system.


  5. Headless Unicorn Guy August 19, 2013 / 11:29 am

    I imagine many, if not most, homeschoolers can attest to the unbelievable amount of expectations we had to live up to. We had to be so much more amazing than any other kind of education. My parents were immeasurably proud of my achievements, and they lovingly wanted to “show me off,” but the constant pressure to perform resulted in a sense that the pressure followed me everywhere– even into college.

    Samantha, I went through exactly the same pressure in the public schools of the 1960s (mid-Cold War period). I was diagnosed a Kid Genius(TM) upon entering school in 1959 and fast-tracked for the next twelve years. 1959 was only two years after Sputnik, which sparked a hysteria that The Russians Were Pulling Ahead of Us in Science & Technology. So Kid Geniuses like me were fast-tracked to Pull Us Back Ahead of the Russians.

    To this day (half a century later), I have a whip cracking in my head to Be Perfect In Every Possible Way. Expected to know everything about everything without ever having to learn it, expected to master everything perfectly the first time I ever attempt it. I was just a giant brain in a jar, a kid’s body supporting that immense IQ. Nobody noticed there was a scared kid attached to that giant brain. Jimmy Neutron and Wesley Crusher are the fantasy of the Kid Genius; Dallas Egbert III is more the reality.

    Guess I’m trying to say that Impossible Perfect Expectations are not necessarily limited to Homeschooling. But the type of homeschooling you experienced sure upped the odds of it.


  6. KEA May 8, 2014 / 8:04 pm

    THIS. So much, this. I’m in college now, and even a casual after-school chat can leave me shaky and sweating. I’m at the top of all my classes (and used to all the stupid homeschooling questions… ‘Did you take tests?’ ‘Did you have any friends?’ ‘Can you read?’) and a very successful reporter for the school paper and DJ on the college radio station. I wouldn’t trade any of that for better people skills. But sometimes, when I think a classmate is asking me to hang out for fun, and it turns out she just wants my help on a paper… I wonder what it might be like to be the sort of girl who walks with a group and does things on Friday night.


  7. Brittany March 18, 2016 / 8:51 pm

    This is so true.
    My first year of public school-8th grade, I was bullied mercilessly because I didn’t know.
    I didn’t know how to talk to people, I didn’t know when people were making fun of me.
    But I am very bright-I make A’s in all my public school classes and generally get very good scores on tests. And when people get to know me, they tend to like me.
    It’s just the fact that getting to know me is still hard, even though I’m a junior now.
    One thing that I always get paranoid about is if I’m annoying someone and they don’t like me as much, because I can’t tell.
    So it was the opening night of our show, and I was getting paranoid that a very amazing friend that I had made recently was drifting away from me. Add this to the fact that it was my first show ever, and I was really fucking scared.
    I went over to said friend, and I was so nervous/paranoid (naranoid? Parvous?) that I couldn’t even get out a full sentence.
    He just looked me straight in the eyes and said “You’re awesome, I love you, and you’re so talented.”
    I actually almost cried.


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