I love the idea of unschooling. I really do. I love the freedom of farm schooling, the deep-rooted connection to nature and work, and the concept of a slow, open childhood that leaves space for curiosity to blossom and academics to unfold organically. I believe deeply in child-led learning as one of the most powerful methods for developing critical thinking and self-motivation. In theory, I’m all in.
So why, then, is SOCHH none of these things?
Here’s why.
1. Because I Still Believe in Keeping Doors Open
When I first dove into researching educational models, I looked for examples of unschooled or alternatively schooled middle and high schoolers who had successfully transitioned into higher education—particularly formal, Western-style universities, who require standardized testing methods. I found a grand total of… zero.
That doesn’t mean those students weren’t successful—many were leading fascinating lives, building businesses, traveling, creating, thriving. But I remember thinking: I don’t want to take any choices off the table for my kids. What if they want to be a lawyer or doctor and need to be able to be prepared for rigorous testing? Maybe they won’t want to go the traditional route. But maybe they will—and I want them to be prepared for either path. SOCHH needed to provide a strong enough academic foundation that if a child wanted to engage in an area that required them to pass the SAT or any formal test , they wouldn’t be starting from behind.
2. Because Those Models Only Work When the Whole Community Is All In
One of the things I realized early on is that these less structured learning models work best when the entire community is fully bought in. In other places—Portland, parts of Northern California, even some corners of the East Coast—you see entire networks of families committed to unschooling, farm schooling, or Waldorf-inspired living. They build real, long-term infrastructure. They show up consistently.
But here in the South County, we don’t quite have that. We have pockets. Beautiful, inspiring pockets of alternative education—but not a fully built-out community of committed families creating a shared system. It makes it hard to sustain anything over time.
3. Because I Wanted Community, Not Constant Hustle
When we first started homeschooling, one of the most difficult parts wasn’t the academics—it was the inconsistency. People were always popping in and out of groups, pods, and classes. I remember a mom who hosted a weekly tea class at her home with a 12-week commitment. We were so excited! By week seven, the class had shrunk from eight kids to just two: us and the host family. She told me this had been her entire homeschooling experience—building up a group only to have it dissolve. She spent more time trying to create community than actually experiencing it.
I didn’t want that. I wanted a sustainable, consistent group of kids and families. I wanted my kids to learn from teachers, not just peers or parents. I wanted a structured but low-pressure academic experience where kids could be challenged, supported, and known. I wanted differentiation, real engagement, and equal access to core subjects across the board.
And I also wanted ease—something flexible enough that I wasn’t stressed about being five minutes late or needing to take a day off. I didn’t want a five-day grind, but I didn’t want to do it all on my own either. I wanted something in the middle. Call it “traditional school lite” or “homeschool plus”—that’s the space SOCHH was built to fill.
I continue to admire and support the incredible alternative models that are out there. They’re doing important, innovative work. But SOCHH had a different calling—a hybrid, flexible, thoughtful space rooted in the idea that kids can have both structure and freedom, that they can be seen as individuals while still being part of a larger academic community.
That was the vision. And for our little corner of the world, it still feels just right.
