In case you didn’t know, I was homeschooled. And this wasn’t in the age of AI and social media and 8 million curriculum options (spoiler alert, I’m old). I was homeschooled in the era of “most homeschoolers wear dresses and there are 3 options to choose from and everyone thinks you’re weird.” To make matters worse, we weren’t a “everyone wears dresses” kind of family. We did unit studies before unit studies were popular (KONOS anyone?). We wore pants. We didn’t use Wisdom booklets or ACE. Did I mention we wore pants? Iykyk.
The transition to homeschooling today was easier on me than it is for most of you, simply because I was a rebel in the ‘90s when I was homeschooled and am a rebel today—I’ve never paid much attention to what everyone else is doing. But if you’re brand new to this and looking for answers about a world you don’t understand, you don’t really have much of a choice but to look, to listen, and to learn. And that learning and investigation happens on the completely ridiculous and unrealistic center stage of social media where very little is real.
Sometimes I get frustrated for the sake of the new homeschoolers. I get defensive when I see people pushing picture-perfect days or “answer-to-your-problem” curriculum when I know the industry. (Fun fact, I used to be an “influencer”.) Most social media platforms are businesses: what they sell is a picture and what you pay is a click, a like, or a view. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying that all influencers are greedy or fake. But there is an industry, and things are rarely what they seem on the outside.
I bring this up because I know the inner struggle. My rebellious nature does not make me immune from the tendrils of doubt that sneak in and seem to take root—making me question whether what I am doing is enough. I feel the guilt or regret a pretty picture can provoke as I swipe from one reel to the next of people who are clearly doing this whole thing better.
The hard truth is that it isn’t all a lie. Truthfully, there are a lot of people doing a whole lot better at this whole thing than I am. Their houses are cleaner. Their laundry is done. Their kids can probably read better or have more exposure to Shakespeare or Latin.
What grounds me is not that it is all a lie. What grounds me is that I don’t answer to them. And here, my rebellious nature comes to the rescue once again.
When I first signed up for this whole thing, I didn’t fully know my trajectory. I wanted to homeschool because it was one of the chief joys of my life to be homeschooled and I wanted to offer that to my children—to myself even. I wanted to homeschool because I had a passion to teach and I couldn’t imagine giving up the aha moments to someone else. I wanted to homeschool because I saw the education system, it’s failings and faults, and I wanted better for my kids. These were the spark, the instigators . . . but over time, my reasons developed into something more.
I homeschool today because I believe God called me to this all those years ago—even if I didn’t perceive it. I believe in a quality education and that facts are of some value, but we have seen that knowledge is no longer the premium that it once was. In fact, facts are the easy part. I believe that to truly prepare my kids for this brave new world that we face, the most critical things I can pass on are to recognize the voice of the Shepherd, to discern, and to have the wisdom to apply the knowledge that is so readily available. Random facts and memorization to pass a test are not my aim. And every. single. time. I see social media posts about homeschooling, I have to realign my priorities with this call.
I have graduated two kids now with a third on the way. They might not know every single fact that their peers do and sometimes I still find myself filled with regret. But then I watch them worship. I watch them pray. I watch them speak about the Lord and light up. I watch them get on their knees and seek the Lord before they make a decision rather than asking chat or reading a self-help book. And it is in these quiet little moments that I remember that this is bigger than how many facts I stuffed in my kids’ heads.
I know that some of you will read this and misread me. I’ve heard it before. In fact, I remember speaking at a conference about this exact topic and reading the reviews after,
To put your mind at ease, I’ll reiterate: I believe that knowledge has some value. My kids need to know how to read, write, and do basic math. But do I believe that God’s ways are higher, that there is a more worthy aim and goal? Unapologetically yes.
So to all of you who are beating yourself up trying to chase after the staged performance of social media . . . I’ll leave you with just one question.
Who do you answer to?
