golden calfs, spiritual pride, and public school
and why the internet has come for my neck this year about it
Oh hey friends.
Zach and I made the decision this year to stop homeschooling our kids. It’s something that we’ve talked about for a few years, but when Chloe and Lydia (our twin three year olds) were recommended to begin preschool to receive services for their developmental delays, we decided to take this as an opportunity to transition everyone all at once.
It isn’t that we didn’t want to homeschool anymore. We have genuinely, truly, without reservation loved homeschooling our kids. We would do it forever if we could, but we no longer can. I’ve talked about this on instagram and don’t really feel it’s necessary to go into it again on here, but our reasons are financial. We can’t afford to live on the income we have right now and I need to work more.
There’s grief in this because there’s loss.
We’re losing time with our kids. Time that has been exclusively ours. We’re losing freedom. We can’t just wake up on a random Tuesday and say, “Let’s go to the MET today!” and take a day trip to New York. We can’t stay up late and sleep in. We can’t go skiing every week with our homeschooling friends. We don’t get to say “no school today, let’s just read and play video games.” We’re losing togetherness, conversations, and the rhythms of life all together all the time.
We’ve lost the privilege to homeschool.

And I’m writing this post today because when I said those words in May, that homeschooling is a privilege1, the homeschooling community came for me hard. They came for me again this week by simply posting a picture of my daughters uniforms. “I’m still so frustrated that you think homeschooling is a privilege. No one handed this to me.” …. “I can’t believe you’re doing this. I heard a single mom is homeschooling her kids. If she can do it, you can.”
No, I can’t. And saying that I can is saying that I’m choosing something that isn’t best for my kids because I don’t want it, or don’t have enough faith to keep going.
So let me just say this, even though I’ve already said it throughout my entire journey of homeschooling - homeschooling is a privilege and privilege does not disqualify sacrifice. It just means your starting line is different. If you have access to something that not every single person in the world has access to, you have a measure of privilege. And that’s ok.
If you live in a country where homeschooling is legal, you have privilege.
If you or your spouse have income that covers your basic needs so that you can homeschool, you have privilege.
If you’re able bodied and mentally healthy, you have privilege.
If you have a college education, you have privilege.
If your children are healthy and don’t require care outside of your capacity, you have privilege.
If your home is a safe place for your children to be all day, you have privilege.
If you have people you trust who will watch your children, you have privilege.
If you can afford to pay for childcare, you have privilege.
Privilege does not, and has never meant that you don’t work hard and sacrifice. It doesn’t mean things are easy for you. It doesn’t mean you don’t struggle. It just means you’re able to do something someone else is not able to do.
Zach and I have held on for two years beyond what was wise and we’ll be picking up the financial pieces of that for a long time. We have worked hard, sacrificed, suffered, and endured and I do indeed take great offense at anyone who implies otherwise.
But I’m not writing this to defend my reasoning for not homeschooling.
It actually doesn’t matter the reason.
There doesn’t need to be a “good enough” reason to stop something that is no longer working, wise, or best for your family.
The only reason I’m writing about our decision at all is to condemn the golden calf called “Homeschooling” that causes so many Christians to lash out, ruthlessly judge others, and robe themselves with spiritual pride.
Homeschooling is a personal choice, not a Christian value.
And it can’t be, because not every person in the world, across culture and across history, has the ability to choose to educate their children at home. Calling it a Christian value is an insult to Christians who are impoverished, live in countries where it isn’t legal or accessible, or Christians who cannot afford (whether financially or otherwise) to homeschool.
I take great issue with conflating personal values with Christian ones. Sometimes it happens directly and aggressively, but it’s much more often with subtle, passive language.
Like —
“I homeschool so I can directly influence my children's spiritual growth.” -implying that parents who educate their children in any other way don’t have the same influence on their spiritual growth.
“I homeschool because I won’t share parenting with the government” - implying that people who love Jesus are intentionally choosing to share responsibility with the government and that your choice is the superior one.
Spiritual pride makes us look at our choices as being the best, most Christian ones. No matter how softly we deliver the words, the superiority of them cuts like a knife. And whether we mean to or not, we cast judgement on those who don’t (or can’t) make the same choices we do.
When we conflate personal values with Christian ones, the fruit is shame for those who can’t do what you can do. And shame, as we all know, as no place in the life of a believer. If your words and your attitude consistently perpetuate shame into the hearts of others, your spiritual pride is on full display and that is regrettable.
But not unforgivable.
Pride and fear are best friends. Pride puts us on a pedestal and fear causes us to do anything we can to keep from getting knocked off of it. But the fruit of a life with Christ is humility. Humility allows to see where we were wrong and apologize for it, not double down on it.
Homeschooling has become a golden calf for a lot of people. When you view something as a guarantee for spiritual well-being, you place more faith in the thing than in the sovereignty and grace of God. And homeschooling doesn’t always bear good fruit!! It actually isn’t a guarantee for your kids’ spiritual well being.2
In the same way the Israelites thought their calf represented God’s protection and presence, Christians put their children’s security and safety into homeschooling. And just like the Israelites were confident that making an image of god was the right thing to do, many Christians are confident that homeschooling is the only choice a Christian can make. So they worship it, sacrifice for it and to it, and harm others in its name.
Homeschooling has never been a calf for me, but I’ve had my fair share of them. And I can tell you with absolute certainty that they do get destroyed. And it’s a gift. When what you’ve put your faith in proves itself to be weak and fallible, you learn to not hold your ideals so tightly. Your faith grows because it has to. Your sense of security and trust becomes almost impenetrable because you know how it feels to watch your god melt and still be loved and taken care of by the God who can’t be controlled.3
I can “laugh without fear of the future” because my safety and my kids’ safety, is in Christ. I trust them with him. Regardless of where they are or what they’re doing —even if things go wrong. (hmm. sounds kind of like a book I wrote.)
I mean, just look at how cute my little fourth grader is in her uniform.4 (Don’t look at our messy living room though, please and thanks.) We are getting so excited for this new adventure! My kids are ready and are counting down the days until school starts. Zach and I are planning are first day of school “all the kids are in school what do we do with our lives” breakfast date to cry and/or celebrate.
Be kind to each other. Check your spiritual pride at the feet of Jesus and melt your golden calfs. We’ll all be better for it, the end.
the highlight of that conversation is on my IG profile.
I wish I could show you the dms from older homeschooling moms who wrote to me saying things like, “Maybe my kids would still speak to me if I did what you’re doing.” And from former homeschooled kids sending me voice memos, crying, because setting aside my ideals for my children as healed a part of their hearts.
I feel like I need to add that while God still loved and cared for the Israelites after this, Moses, on God’s order, did have 3,000 people killed as punishment….. So. There’s also that.
the public schools in our city wear uniforms to cut down on bullying, economic disparity, and gang affiliations. and we love that!
You're absolutely right about homeschooling not being right for everyone, and not being any sort of a spiritual guarantee. I have multiple friends who still resent their parents for not allowing them to go to public school, and I have just as many formerly homeschooled friends who have left the faith as public schooled friends who have. I think Christians love to cling to anything that makes us feel like we can control our children's spiritual destiny and that is simply never true
As if God’s arm is too short to reach into a public school? Wild theology there. Also wild to assume y’all aren’t being led by Holy Spirit. I pray there is beautiful fruit from this coming school year for all of you! 💕