Can you imagine NOT choosing your homeschool textbooks? That you were so big and important the textbook people gave you footrubs and free lunches as you sat in a puffy reclining chair? That they swooned and said, "Yes, Ma'am! That'll be in there!" to you as you rattled off all the stuff you wanted included in the next book you bought? (The imagining is a bit weirder if you are a male reader, but I digress.)
Well, let's just pretend you and a few of your friends are elected on a big important board. You guys get together and decide what the books that aren't even published yet are going to include. The books will sell millions of copies and be diligently taught to children not only in your little homeschool group... but nationwide. Because (let's pretend) ALL the schools in the nation tend to follow your lead. You're the respected curriculum choice... because everyone chooses your stuff... because you have a lot of people in your group... so everyone chooses your stuff... because you have a lot of people in your group... so everyone chooses your stuff.
Bwa ha ha HAAA... just think of the power you'd have. You'd get to decide about the important things, really important things, that children will be learning. Finally, the golden sceptre, the ring of power, that juuuuuicy decision-making power is YOURS. World domination cannot be far behind, friend.
"We'll use it to teach about hip-hop music to the kids," your friend Double U Dawg says. "This world domination thing can't be taken too lightly, and we should be sure to teach children about IMPORTANT things like hip-hop music and the dormant power of the inner-city migrant field worker subculture."
"But I think hip-hop music is stupid," your friend Cletus counters. "Country music and proper *yeeee-hah!* Duke Boy yelling technique both need to be taught to all first graders. An' some line dancing in fourth."
"Hmpf," Snarki Smyth intones as she rolls her eyes and fiddles with her snooty half-spectacles using her obscenely fake French nails. Yeah, she's not really your friend, but you invited her to be on the committee because she agreed to take notes and run PowerPoint. "Country music strikes me as just the sort of thing the hip-hop people would do if they were plopped into the country livin' for a while. Booze, loose morals and excessive admiration for large motor vehicles. I think we should teach children about the IMPORTANT things... like the necessity of quilt-making in pioneer America. Third graders should be able to accurately reconstruct a quilt design from paper. I want that on the test, too. Woe betide the child who can't cut a straight line!"
"Ohhh, nooo, you don't," seethes your poofy-wigged, sequin-wearing, glamourous, curvaceous and *famous* friend, Unbie Knownst. "I insist we print up a list of weird names like Ellen Ochoa, Le Chez Somebodyoranother, the Girl Scout founding chick and a bunch of other people my friend Mrs. C has never heard of before. While we're at it, we need to get her a Britney Spears album and make her listen to it. It drives me nuts that she thinks 'Oops I did it again/ I pooped on the floor/ and I peed in my pants' is one of her hits because her older son told her so six years ago. That is literally *all* she can sing of her musical repetoire." Unbie then sniffs the air as if Mrs. C's extreme lack of knowledge has polluted her nostrils.
Mrs. C counters that she KNOWS Spears is the lady who shaved her head and appeared on her AOL welcome screen for about three weeks straight. And like many people, Mrs. C used to BE in Girl Scouts -- for years -- and never knew who founded it or why. She thought it was all about the brown beanie, doing crafts and going camping. She suggests that maybe the kids should do THAT just for fun.
*much yelling ensues between group members*
Ahhh... drama. Sometimes I think we homeschoolers take those state public school curriculum boards far too seriously. Other days? I think we're in for some serious trouble in 20 years if this is the stuff we're teaching our kids.