Little Rad School House

To say that homeschooling wasn’t on my radar 4 years ago would be a vast understatement. Four years ago, our family was living the life we had always dreamed of and strived for. My husband was the chief operator and manager of a California water municipality, our two beautiful kids Jamison and Ezekiel, were enrolled in a wonderful, tiny Christian school, and I was a stay at home mom who ambitiously volunteered for just about everything under the sun. We loved our life. We loved our kids, their school, our church, our friends, and our home. We were deeply invested (and over committed) to every single one of these things, but we knew God was calling us away from this lovely life and a big change was on the horizon. This change was so colossal, we couldn’t even begin to process what life would look like after.

In addition to our everyday routine lives, my husband and I had founded an international organization focusing on sharing God’s love and truth through providing clean water and education. After a number of years directing this organization from the states, and taking sporadic family mission trips to various countries each year, we felt God was leading our family to a life very far removed from America. 

After purging, donating, selling, and saying goodbye to just about everything  and everyone we adored, December of 2015, we packed our suitcases and boarded a plane with one-way tickets to Uganda. 

This move was something we prayed for, we longed for, and desperately desired, but unpacking our 10 suitcases in a strange house in a foreign land, felt like unpacking small, obscure pieces of random puzzles and cramming them together, in an attempt to see if the picture would look recognizable. Over the last 3 years, we’ve grown to love our beautiful mosaic of odd pieces, but before we were able to begin putting them together, we had to discard more fragments of our “old life” and add in some new pieces to fill in the intricate spaces.

Upon moving to Uganda we met with multiple international schools, with the best intentions of getting our kids plugged in with other transplants in a familiar setting. We visited wonderful schools we couldn’t picture our kids attending, met with loving administrators we didn’t see ourselves working alongside, and looked over numerous applications with enrollment and tuition fees we couldn’t afford. Our search for a school became more and more evident that a school wasn’t what we were looking for. Our international move had strengthened our bond with our children powerfully. Suddenly we were all each other had. God had called our whole family to serve in Uganda, not just the adult members. It didn’t take critical thinking to realize if our kids were in a western style school 5 days a week they really wouldn’t be fulfilling their purposes living in Uganda. Even though homeschool was our no brain answer, we felt ill-equipped with no materials, lesson plans, or a clue as to what homeschooling was supposed to look like. In the midst of my near-hysterical panic, I was quickly swept under the gentle and resourceful wings of the local community of international homeschool moms. 

This sisterhood of moms from all over the world bond over the joys and struggles of cross-cultural living, homeschooling beloved children, supporting missionary husbands, leading ministries, worship nights, co-ops and more all while babysitting each other’s kids, sharing recipes and American goods like it’s going out of style. Bartering and trading tissue paper, glue guns, pencil sharpeners, books, Kiefer grains, chocolate chips, and kombucha SCOBYs is our favorite form of currency. Somehow I landed myself in this amazing group of women who continue to guide and shape our ever-growing journey of homeschooling. 

Each day my little homeschool duo (and toddler Aila) and I band together in the garage/converted school house to pray, study the bible and learn together. We are either met by the hot African sun beating on our tile roof above and our hard working fan circulating the humid air throughout the room, or the heavy rain rhythmically drumming over us -only to be broken by the cracks of lightening and roars of thunder. As if facing mother nature’s erratic behavior, inconstant water, and irregular power isn’t exciting enough, we keep our days interactive with Charlotte Mason style teaching. We spend our time on studying our subjects through literature, music, art, gardening, hours of outdoor play, and of course serving our surrounding communities.  

Living in such a unique and diverse culture is fascinating. As a family, we take as many opportunities as possible to understand the incredible country we abide in. We are in the deep villages of Uganda every week, working, serving, learning, teaching, playing, and growing beautiful relationships that defy all language and cultural barriers. Before my very eyes, I witness my children living out the truths: play has no language and love knows no bounds.  

It took moving half way across the world to a place without modern conveniences, resources or Amazon Prime, to a place where everything is homemade and handmade, severing ties with all comforts and familiarities -for our family to simplify our lifestyle and surrender to homeschooling. The journey has been full of surprises and unexpected turns but pioneering our own path through this pilgrimage has beautifully liberating. We’ve found freedom in exploring the depths of our kids’ interests and passions, uninhibited by culture or current relevancy. Living as a minority in Africa, so far removed from life as we knew it, isn’t always easy but I can’t think of a better way to spend my days than fortifying our family unit, empowering and discipling my children, and boldly sharing truth and love with the nations. Plus -African field trips are just better!