Why Do I Homeschool?

Doing the Work of Transformation in a World of Manure

Photo by Vitolda Klein on Unsplash

Why do I homeschool? It’s not my ideal world, yet here we are.

There’s a world I imagine can exist - where every individual is free to choose to live the life they can create with others, through mutually agreed upon exchange.

A place where there’s no need for stealing, lying, or tearing others down, because in the struggle for clarity, we come to recognize, respect, and support each other’s journey. A place where we don’t compel another grown adult into actions they don’t choose freely for themselves. Where we don’t blame or shame others, twist or contort the truth, or ourselves, to avoid the consequences of our choices, but simply accept the lessons and move forward. A place where we focus more on how we fall short of our own standards than on how others fail to meet ours.

If you want to be sure you're not being pressured into something you’ll later regret, make sure that what you choose—your actions and your will are co-informants—is stronger than the temptation of the alternative.

It’s the season of the Festival of Light, as the darkness deepens in the Northern Hemisphere. Yet, even now, on the other side of the world, the sun continues its journey, waiting to return to us—hidden sometimes by clouds, but always there. Its absence is a reminder of the rest and renewal needed for growth. Tonight, the moon is full, but it will continue its cycle, waxing and waning, just as it always does. No matter where we are on Earth, we all share the same moon phase.

We all rise and fall together.

I think a lot about growth—what it is, and what it isn’t. When it’s nourishing, and when it’s not. How do we grow, not just as individuals, but as a community?

Not all growth is good, in my view. Unchecked growth can become monstrous, and what was once rich loses its flavor. I prefer the deliberate reduction and refinement of the sweetness you find in maple syrup, over the overpowering, manufactured sweetness of high-fructose corn syrup.

Call me privileged—I'm fine with that.

Because I am. I’ve been fortunate to be in the company of brilliant minds, big hearts, and deep loyalty. I’ve also felt the sting of small jobs, the hollow benefits bestowed by those who prioritize expediency over substance. More of something bad doesn’t make it better—it just makes it the new normal.

I don’t want normal.

The bad I witness becomes an invitation—a divine opportunity to recognize and nurture the good within myself. It calls me to cultivate the generous, the loving, the well-intentioned, the forgiving, the patient, the kind, the fullness of grace. To let the crystal-clear radiance of goodness shine through.

I no longer fear the devil, or Satan, or his minions, or the fires of hell. I’ve seen them, felt them, even been them (ask the attending nurse about my birth labor experience), and I’ve reached a point where I’ve had enough. What I long for now is the refreshment of the delicate, the nourishing, and the sturdiness of abundance.

“But what is inward has to become outward, and man will rise will higher when his karma has worked itself out… A field has to be treated with manure and the manure has to ferment in the soil; similarly, humanity needs the manure of evil in order to attain to the highest holiness. And herein lies the mission of evil. A man's muscles get strong by use; and equally, if good is to rise to the heights of holiness, it must first overcome the evil which opposes it. The task of evil is to promote the ascent of man.” -Rudolf Steiner

It takes effort. It requires work. It’s not always easy or comfortable. It’s not a walk in the park, and it often doesn’t feel good until it finally does.

I understand how HARD it can be to resist what seems easier, simpler, less expensive. It’s a constant struggle to keep that small spark of resolve alive when everything in you wants to give in—when your body is screaming for the path of least resistance, because doing something different feels SO MUCH HARDer.

I live in New York, and for me, there’s no option but to resist the shortcomings of today’s mandated school system. I believe it’s impossible to change others; the only person I can truly transform is myself.

So, I focus on what I can control—working to grow my own skills, abilities, and mindset.

Because that’s better than the alternative.

“Success is the successful selection of the right problems.” - Jordan Peterson

I homeschool because I envision a world where individuals are free to choose their path, where the struggle for clarity leads us to recognize one another’s worth. A world where integrity and personal purpose guide us, and the pressure to conform is replaced by the freedom to choose, and to grow at our own pace. I reject the "normal" and embrace the responsibility of growth—through discomfort, effort, and intention. It’s not about avoiding the difficulties of life, but about learning from them to nurture the good within ourselves.

In a place like New York, where the current education system is everything but this, I have no choice but to focus on my own growth and create an environment for my child to do the same. It's about resisting the badness in the world and doing better, even when it's hard.

So I seek and I find others who share my spirit, to share their light to guide me, when the darkness feels impenetrable. If you want a different way of understanding growth, in specific practical terms, subscribe to the JPI agriculture newsletter here. Warning: it’s likely to rattle today’s status quo a bit.

“You are doing the work. The real work is spiritual, which means that it is about your own transformation. Whether or not you work in a garden or have a farm, you participate with the movement by changing yourself into something new. You, dear readers, are closer to us than many in the agricultural world because you work with us toward a life governed by spiritual ideals. In this sense, you fuel this movement and the driving force behind our impetus. Even if you are working alone, know that you are not alone in this work. Our task to regenerate soils (and souls) extends far beyond the confines of farming. You are already one of us.”

-Stewart Lundy, Josephine Porter Institute for Applied Biodynamics