Memories of a Life Lived: Homeschoolers VS Commissioners Court

One day, when I was newly elected president of America's Media Alliance, and I homeschooled my children in Austin Texas, every week on Tuesday the cable Access channel aired the Travis County Commissioner's Court proceedings. During the proceedings, they had allotted a time for citizens to come up and voice their complaints. We, in the Alliance, encouraged them to do so by being there ourselves on most occasions. I made my children watch the proceedings on tv on Tuesdays as part of their civics lessons.

Well, one particular Tuesday as we had all three gathered around the TV, we began to listen to one particular commissioner voicing her complaint about the alliance and it's work. She called us all a bunch of stalkers. We didn't find that offensive. We just laughed at her. Then the subject turned to the new rules about the peace officers showing up at your door if your child wasn't at school that day to check on him. She was questioned about Home Schoolers, to which she replied that Home Schoolers were "nothing but trailer trash that didn't even own property.

I was stunned. We were buying our three bedroom brick home. And, my children didn't live in a trailer. Both of my children, whom I had doubts about up until that moment as to whether they were really listening or not, both turned to look at me when she said that, and at the same time, both of them covered their ears. They knew I was about to go off. I realized that I should not go off as I usually do at the tv at that point. It was time for me to defend my children. I grabbed my purse and car keys and made the five minute trip to the building where the commissioners court was being held. I was the last one to speak that day.

I proceeded to explain to Mrs. Sunlightner why I was there. I told her that I didn't live in a trailer and that we were buying our property. I also told her that unlike those children who attend the government indoctrination camps they call schools, my children weren't growing up to follow anyone. They were being taught to lead. I demanded that she owed them, who were listening, an apology.

When I drove the car into the driveway after I reached my home, I was still upset, and wondering if I did the right thing in front of my children, who were, no doubt, still watching the proceedings. My youngest son, Justin, who was 5 years old, met me as I got out of the car. The look on his face said all I needed to hear:

"THAT's MY MOMMA!"

I would do it again if I had to.