When my family of four kids (9, 7, 4, and 2 months) was introduced to the concept of “unschooling,” or self-directed education in which learners lead the way, there were several things that resonated for me: that learning can come through and feel like play; that life will be what you make of it and we can choose a life of joy; and that great learning comes from real application of knowledge and skills in pursuit of our own goals.
As a new unschooling mom, I found myself often telling my kids, “If you want something, you have to make it happen.” I was trying to teach them the value of putting things on the calendar, and coming to family meetings to make plans with me for the week.
One day, my then 9- and 7-year-olds were debating which movie to watch together. I overheard their discussion, which concluded with, “Let’s watch your movie this time, but let’s write a note to remind us that next time it’s my choice.” And they did. It was such a small thing, but it felt like a huge testament to the path we were on.
So I continued to share my mantra: If you want something, you have to make it happen. And the longer I watched my kids living out their lives with joy and passion, the more I realized I need to practice what I preach.
I hadn’t expected to learn and grow myself through unschooling, but you can only be around so much joy before you start to wonder if you’re really living out your own interest-led journey. As I helped my kids get their goals and plans on the calendar, I naturally started carving out space for my own.
I first made space to try homeschool coaching. I made my first website, started my first Instagram account, and even my first podcast. I offered free coaching sessions to test my skills. I was loving learning these new skills. It kind of felt like play—like I was pretending to start a business.
As I coached, two things became clear to me. One, I was passionate about unschooling, and two, it would be amazing to unschool in a community. Someone should really start a school for unschoolers, I thought. I wish something like that existed for my kids, I mused.
If you want something, you have to make it happen, came the reply.
So I started down new rabbit holes, including running Google searches about legislation governing microschools, listening to LiberatED podcast interviews with microschool founders, signing up for Yes. Every Kid. Foundation emails, and reading anything I could find about Sudbury Valley schools and how you can start one.
It felt good to pursue my curiosity, and if nothing else, I loved that my kids were seeing me model lifelong learning. I loved that some of my interests were rubbing off on them, and the busier I got, the more intentional they were about getting their plans on my calendar. It was a win-win! I loved being in our little co-working space we were creating in our home. It was just what I envisioned for an unschooling-school.
But that isn’t all it led to. The stars aligned when our state passed two pieces of legislation almost in tandem. One was a universal school-choice bill, the Utah Fits All Scholarship, enabling families to use a portion of state-allocated education funding toward a variety of private education options, including alternative ones like microschools. The other bill defined microschools and made it easier to find properly zoned venues, including using your own home. This latter one was a biggie for me because while I’m a radical when it comes to education, I am a rule keeper at heart. I knew when these two laws passed, relatively close together, that they solved my biggest hurdles: money and space.
After that, things escalated pretty quickly. In late spring 2024, I proposed my idea to a warm audience I had already been engaging with online: the local homeschool group on Facebook.
Once I had people interested in my idea, I basically tried to stay one step ahead of them. I scheduled a Zoom meeting and created a simple website so I could refer them there after the meeting.
They were still interested.
I couldn’t invite them to our space because it was torn up from a long renovation, so I scheduled a meetup at the library.
They came—and they brought friends.
I made an application form—and someone filled it out.
So I made an enrollment form—and two people filled it out.
All the while, we were frantically finishing up house projects, aiming to open in September. Finally, we were able to announce an open house for the beginning of August.
The families came.
After the open house, I realized that I was my own last hurdle. I had to tell them how to pay me. So I formed an LLC, opened a bank account, and sent out payment agreements.
And they paid.
I officially launched The Treehouse Agile Learning Community in September 2024 as a home-based microschool for homeschoolers in St. George, Utah. We currently serve about a dozen students, ages 5 to 12, with plans to add teen programming in the coming months.
I unschooled my way to opening a school for unschoolers, and now I get to teach my mantra to kids all week: If you want something, you can make it happen.
The post How I Unschooled My Way to Opening a School for Unschoolers was first published by the Foundation for Economic Education, and is republished here with permission. Please support their efforts.
