Every time I speak openly about the shortcomings of the school system, someone inevitably responds with a version of this:
“You don’t have to tear down schools just because you homeschool.”
“Why do you have to criticize teachers?”
“Can’t we just let everyone choose what works for them?”
And I get it. I really do.
Because for a long time, I was on the other side of this conversation. I was a teacher. I was a school principal. I know how hard people in the system work. I know how much they care. I know what it costs them.
But let me be clear:
Criticizing a system is not the same as attacking the people inside it.
And calling attention to systemic issues is not a sign of bitterness—it’s a sign of responsibility.
Those Who Leave Often See the Most
It’s easy to assume that the loudest voices questioning the school system are the ones farthest removed from it. But more often, it’s the opposite.
Many of us who now homeschool didn’t arrive here through ideology—we arrived here through experience. First as educators, showing up early and staying late, building programs, managing classrooms, and pouring ourselves out for students. And later, as parents, navigating the system on the other side of the desk—watching our own children shrink inside it, despite every effort to make it work.
When people speak out after leaving something, it’s rarely out of spite. It’s because they saw too much to stay silent. And silence, once you’ve seen clearly, starts to feel like complicity.
To Care About Education Is to Question Its Shape
If our goal is to prepare children for life—not just tests, not just college admissions, but real life—then we must be willing to ask whether the current structure serves that purpose.
And in asking that question, we must also be willing to tolerate discomfort. Because while it may feel threatening to examine the structure, what’s truly threatening is what happens when we don’t.
If children are developing anxiety at record levels…
If teachers are leaving faster than we can replace them…
If families are quietly opting out and walking away…
Then surely, someone is allowed to ask: Why?
And more than that—what if they’re right to ask?
You Cannot Reform What You Refuse to Examine
This is where the conversation often gets stuck: not in disagreement, but in defensiveness.
The moment someone questions how schools are run, the response becomes personal. “But not all schools are like that.” “But my child’s teacher is amazing.” “But public education is doing the best it can.”
I know. That’s part of what makes this so hard.
It’s true that many teachers are doing heroic work.
It’s true that there are good schools, good people, and good intentions.
And it’s also true that the structure itself is failing to meet the needs of far too many children.
Both can be true.
Defending the entire system because some people are working hard within it is like defending a crumbling building because a few people inside are holding up the roof with their hands.
It’s not sustainable.
It’s not fair to the people inside.
And it’s not criticism that’s hurting us—it’s our refusal to take a serious look at the foundation.
If Education Matters, Then So Does This Conversation
Every great shift in history has started with people asking uncomfortable questions.
Not because they were trying to cause trouble—but because they knew the stakes were too high to stay silent.
I will never stop asking those questions.
Not because I’m against education—but because I believe so deeply in its potential.
Not because I think homeschooling is perfect—but because I’ve seen firsthand what’s possible when learning is rebuilt around the child instead of the institution.
So no—I won’t stay quiet.
Not when families are looking for answers.
Not when children are carrying stress their brains weren’t built to hold.
Not when there’s something better waiting on the other side of the noise.
If you’re still here—still thinking this through, still trying to make sense of what you’ve seen or felt—know that you’re not alone.
You’re allowed to ask the questions.
You’re allowed to explore another way.
And you’re allowed to expect better—not because you’re angry, but because you care.
Let the critics come.
We’re not here to argue.
We’re here to build something better.
And that starts by telling the truth.
Stick around… we are just getting started.
Xoxo,
Mandy
As a former public school teacher, I agree with all of this. I taught during Covid and it was so very hard for everyone involved but I left much earlier than I had planned because of the craziness inside of the system. And yes, I taught at a great school with lots of parental and administrative support and great staff but what was being taught was wrong on so many levels. I taught kindergarten and the stress and expectations on the littlest ones is tough to watch.
Good for you for having the tough conversations.
Applause!!!