Growing Minds, Giving Hearts

My little girl is now 7. But 7 doesn’t feel so little anymore.

Some reflections…

She’s so confident and sure of herself. She knows what she wants and she works hard to get it. She loves BIG. She encourages others. She wants to help animals and pick up litter. She has a beautiful spirit and looks at everything with such wonder. She is changing the world without even trying, just by being herself.

The asynchronous development of gifted children is fascinating. One minute she’s doing long division, the next she’s crying on the ground wondering, “Why am I the only kid at school that falls all the time?” Since she is many ages at once, it feels like each calendar year is multiple years rolled into one. My husband and I often ask ourselves “Is she really only seven?” one minute and then the very next, “Are we sure she’s actually seven?” It’s a hard thing to explain, but she is such a different person today than she was a year ago.

Seven was an age I have been dreading personally. My little one turning seven means she has spent more of her life without my mom than with her, and that just breaks my heart. I’ve shed many tears this birthday – a combination of joy when thinking about all of the growth of the past year and sorrow knowing that my mom isn’t here to celebrate the growth with me. And I pray that I can be half the mom to her that my mom was to me.

This week we celebrate this precious soul that was entrusted to us.

My daughter is an only child. You could say that our homeschooling is learner-centered by default. But to be honest, it often isn’t.

I am a teacher by profession. I’ve spent the past several years trying to unlearn a lot of my training, not because it was wrong, but because it just doesn’t work for neurodiverse children. As a classroom teacher, it is very difficult to meet the needs of all 25 kids at every moment. In fact, I would say it is impossible. I have learned from and worked with many amazing educators, and I’m sure each one of them would say that the high expectations they have for themselves are basically unattainable for so many reasons, none that are their fault. 

Fast forward to today. Half of my week is spent with the remarkable learners at our micro school, and half of my week is spent at home, trying to keep up with my profoundly gifted 5 year old daughter. The learner-centered movement really resonates with me, and even though our school has so much growing to do in this area, I can already see the impact. While at times it has felt a little uncomfortable to put aside what I’m used to as a teacher in favor of this new way of doing school, the success of learner-centered education is quite clear. Every day it gets easier for me to step back and let our learners step into their amazingness. It’s all theirs, and the best course of action for me is to encourage, empower, and then get out of their way. 

Unfortunately, it’s a lot harder to do this at home. My daughter is incredibly motivated. Her brain just does not shut off! She learns things quickly, often without being taught, and no one can get in her way. And the craziest thing? She wants to do school work.

At least she did. Until this past week. 

“Mommm…… I just don’t want to do school this summer,” she begged.

That statement resulted in a twenty minute conversation. I just couldn’t give up my plan and schedule for the summer, which was mostly motivated by her previous input. I had already prepared binders and subscriptions, projects and experiments. She made it clear she wanted a break, but it was SO HARD for me to oblige.  I was making it about me, and that went against everything I’ve been teaching myself, our staff, and parents at our school! It also was the quickest way for my daughter to decide she hates school. 

Learner-centered at home can be hard for me. I love learning alongside my child, but the unstructured can be challenging for me. Completely giving up all “school” for the summer feels uncomfortable, even though we don’t do much at home and what we do work on is normally up to her. It takes away my control, my schedule, and my goals. But, my daughter’s learning – my daughter’s life – isn’t about me. It’s about her.

Asking for a break was more a reflection of her heart than her brain. Since we decided to skip schoolwork for the summer, we’ve JUST THIS WEEK completed multiple projects, played many games, created several inventions, and explored the great outdoors. She has also read for more than 2 hours a day by choice. I can already see a change in her disposition. This period of isolation has been such a stressful time, but I can already see that stress lifting from her. And my prediction is that she will feel refreshed and ready to get back to it at school come August.

Am I going to be able to check off a bunch of ELA and math skills by the end of the summer? Maybe, maybe not. Am I confident in my daughter’s ability to keep learning in her own way? Most definitely. Will we make memories? Absolutely. 

I often have to remind myself of what I tell others and what I wrote above: The  best course of action for adults is to encourage, empower, and then get out of their way. Kids are a force of nature, if only we trust them.

Student A: Hi. How are you?
Student B: I’m ok. Feeling weird.
Student A: Yeah, I know what you mean. I don’t know how to describe it, but I’m kind of schoolsick…

In that short Zoom chat exchange, these two students summed up what I think most kids and teachers around the world are feeling right now. We’re all schoolsick.

What does schoolsick mean? Well, I remember when I first went to college, my heart ached for home, my mom and dad, my niece, and my friends. When I moved to DC, my heart ached for those same things. I was homesick. It wasn’t that my present was bad, it was the grief that the many good things in my life couldn’t physically co-exist. I feel like that grief is the best way to describe what schoolsick means. For our students and families, the present isn’t bad. These kiddos have amazing families who are pouring into them during this time. We are connecting online nearly every day, which is also a blessing. But we miss school. We want school and home to be able to co-exist in our day-to-day life, but right now they can’t.

Our school is a homeschool hybrid, so students and parents are used to learning at home, just not all the time. They are used to community, collaboration, maker projects, Socratic discussions, math circles, design thinking, playing in the great outdoors. These things are really hard to replicate at home. We’re doing our best with live science demonstrations from my kitchen, novel studies, small group lessons, etc., but it’s not the same. There is a loss of collaborative learning that I’m grieving, but more than that, I’m grieving our beautiful school community.

I hate missing school under any circumstances. I love being with the students. I love watching their faces light up when they make a discovery and hearing their excited “Woaahh!” when we do something cool. I love watching them be kind to each other, help each other, and love each other. I love talking with their adults, be they parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, or friends at pick-up and drop-off. I love being able to collaborate with the outstanding educators on our team. Truly, I love everything about being in our learning community, and I’m devastated that we can’t be there right now.

There are a lot of ways to improve this problem, and many brilliant educators and organizations share ideas daily. But today, I’m choosing to dwell in this feeling of schoolsickness, and that’s ok.

In my job as an educator, I get to see kids do some pretty amazing things. I am constantly in awe of the ideas children have and how they are eager to use their gifts to help others. 

Life has been uncertain due to world events, and it can be really hard on children to cope with the big emotions associated with missing school, friends, routines, and more. One of the best things we can do for our children when their lives are anything but normal is to encourage their natural passion for making a difference. 

At our elementary school, we talk a lot about ways to be helpers and leaders in our neighborhoods, community, and world. When we give of ourselves to help others, we make a difference not only in their lives, but also in our own. Our upper elementary students recently read The Kindly Neighbor by Edgar Guest. I loved hearing their ideas regarding who counts as their neighbor, what it means to be a kindly neighbor, and the ripple effect that being a kindly neighbor can have on the world. 

We then talked about what we were feeling with so many things canceled and closed and imagined what it must be like for particularly vulnerable people in our community. The students then brainstormed ideas for loving our neighbors despite having to keep our distance. I am so impressed by their list, and all of their ideas are things kids around our city can do! 

1. Write a letter to a neighbor or someone in a nursing home
2. Bake cookies and drop them off at a neighbor’s house
3. Make a craft to give to someone that may need a smile that day
4. Help parents and siblings around the house
5. Offer to do a small act of service for a neighbor
6. Paint peace rocks and place them near hiking paths to bring a smile to hikers

If you’re looking for something to do with your children that will make a positive difference in their lives and the lives of others, during this time of closure or any time of year, consider finding meaningful ways to serve your neighbors. Loving our neighbors has such a powerful effect, one that will stay with our children and our neighbors for a long time!

Our students especially loved the last two lines from Edgar Guest’s poem.

“A kindly neighbor! Wars and strife shall end
When man has made the man next door his friend.”

I love musical theater. Some of my best memories with my mom are special outings to the theater as a child. I’ve carried on that tradition with my niece, and hoped to continue with my daughter.

When she was 3, our city’s performing arts center was doing a show based on several Ezra Jack Keats stories. What a perfect first exposure to the theater, I thought! And it was playing when my mom was visiting, so we turned it into a special whole family affair. 

As we walked into the theater, I could see awe in her eyes. There was a beautiful set decorating the stage with snow gently falling on it. The hum of excitement so common to the theater was in full force. And then one of the staff members asked her if she’d like to sit up front on my lap. YES! OF COURSE! It was the perfect day until…

The play started. Two actors ran out screaming and giggling, having an innocent snowball fight. My daughter completely lost it, screaming in terror. I dashed out the door with her, my husband and mom following, and she and I both cried. She was clearly scared, but couldn’t explain why, and I was devastated and confused.

My daughter’s brain is easily the most fascinating thing in the world to me. The way she can make connections on her own, learn new tasks rapidly, and carry on an intellectual conversation with an adult is remarkable. When she learned to read at two years old, basically on her own, I watched in awe as I thought it was completely unbelievable. Who is this kid?!?

And yet, she is very much a young child, and the intricacies of her brain certainly have not come without struggles. A year and a half ago we were finally able to confirm what I knew for some time. She has several processing disorders that have strong effects over her abilities to navigate her daily life. 

The most pronounced of these is sensory processing disorder. If you are not familiar with it, I encourage you to check out this website for more information. 

I think it’s easy to read down the list of aspects of SPD and say that it sounds like every child. And honestly, I do think that most kids and adults have aspects of this to a lesser degree. We all have things, be it a sound, texture, or smell, that bother us. But for our daughter, it was the extreme sensitivity to her surroundings, the severity of the reactions, and the panic and anxiety that really set our daughter apart and made daily life difficult.

I remember one time when she was 2 1/2 and there was a fly in the house. We live in Colorado, so this is truly a rare occurrence. It landed on her once, and she had a complete meltdown because of how it felt on her skin and the buzzing sound hurting her ears, and I just couldn’t get her to calm down. It was devastating to watch, as nothing really comforted her other than rushing off to another room and closing the door, hoping that there was not a fly in there, too. 

Here is a short list of the biggest impact of SPD on her young life:

Avoiding anything that looks like a theater, until very recently.

Unable to wear clothing with tags or that are tight, such as leggings.

Getting her in her car seat is still a fight because it is always too tight.

The dogs barking cause her to run away and hide. As does my hairdryer and electric toothbrush.

She does not do well in crowds. She still won’t go into her class at church because the kids are too noisy and move around too much and that’s overwhelming for her. She eventually felt comfortable at her preschool that had 14 kids a day, and now does well at our micro school that has 24 kids. But she did spend most of last year reading a book under the picnic table at recess time at preschool.

She does not want to play with another child unless she trusts that they will not scream at her, push her, etc. She has a very limited circle of friends that she wants to play with on a regular basis, and typically one-on-one is better. 

Despite these many challenges, most of the time when I think about her SPD diagnosis I reflect upon how much she has grown since that day. She can go to the theater, she greets guests at the door instead of hiding under a table or in a closet, she goes right into school instead of crying that she’s afraid. 

As her mom, it has been difficult emotionally to watch her struggle, and I had to get really creative with accommodations that wouldn’t make her feel ostracized.

What has been most eye-opening for me, personally, was being the parent instead of teacher for the first time. I can’t tell you how many IEP meetings I’ve sat in on and contributed to, and looking back I know I understand how it was probably such an overwhelming experience for each and every parent as we listed all of their child’s deficits and struggles in school. I am grateful that the IEP team where I used to teach really emphasized the positive for each child, but I know that’s not always the case. Teachers and administrators are busy, and it is easier to get right down to business instead of focusing on the many strengths and communicating them to the parent.

But from the other side of the table, I realized the disservice that so many parents get by hearing only the negative and only the areas for growth. I now understand what it is like to hear all of the struggles that your child has, a few random suggestions, and a plan that really doesn’t jive with everyday life. I came home that night and cried, not for my daughter, not for our situation, not for the challenges I knew she would have, but for the millions of parents that come to teachers and specialists, desperately needing a glimmer of hope, and instead get a list of deficits.

Our daughter has learned many coping strategies for her SPD, and she is much less anxious in new and potentially overwhelming situations. I am so grateful for the experts, friends, and colleagues that support her and continue to help us empower her to be brave and advocate for her needs. It is getting easier for all of us, and that’s something to celebrate.

And just what did we do this past weekend? Why, we sat in the front row at a production of Mary Poppins! The orchestra and mics were loud, the lights were bright, the theater was crowded. And we had a blissful time.

Five years. It flies by and yet can be painfully slow at the same time. These past five years, I’ve experienced both.

Five years ago I was only 10 days away from welcoming our daughter into the world. Had you asked me then what life would look like in five years, I would have gotten just about everything wrong!

My first prediction would have been that I would still be working at the same school in DC, and my daughter would be starting kindergarten there this coming fall. My husband would be still working at his tech company and we would be living the hustle and bustle of city life. My mom would be a champ at city driving because she would be visiting us in DC nearly every other week.

What would I never have predicted? 


My current life. I’m fairly certain I wouldn’t have gotten a single detail right! In the past five years we have moved to Colorado, traveled a lot, made amazing new friends, acquired two pups, experienced the excruciating heartache of my mom’s death, created new business ventures for my husband, and started a school. 

There is a lot to be grateful for in this time period. While our school is so new, I can’t begin to describe how amazing it is to walk in each day with my almost 5-year-old first grader holding my hand, delighted to have another day at the micro school. Some of my fondest childhood memories include going to school with my mom, an expert first grade teacher. From the age of five, I planned to have the same life with my own child. While so many life circumstances are different than what I expected, that dream has remained the same and has come to fruition.

I don’t know what the next five years hold, but I know better than to try and predict. I’m excited to see what it brings. 

Happy 5th birthday to my precious girl! 

On Friday night as we were driving back from dinner, my daughter declared, “God is dog backwards!” I told her she was right, and then told her about cool words that are spelled the same both forward and backwards. Palindromes!

She was immediately obsessed with them, and we began thinking of words that fit the description. Until she went to bed, and then again when she woke up, palindromes were the thing.

Saturdays are spelling list days. It takes about 5 minutes, but I give her 6 words to spell (5 plus a challenge). She is naturally good with words, and really in kindergarten does not need a spelling list, but she loves showing off. As I was going to get a list of /ing/ words, I paused and thought about palindromes. Why not find some palindromes that she could spell? And she could naturally check her own work by making sure they were spelled the same forwards and backwards!

She loved it! Such a simple thing to do, but in following her interests she was more engaged and felt like her interests were known. Child-led learning means different things to different people. As parents, my husband and I certainly default to letting our daughter lead the way, and we take advantage of her curiosities to turn them into teaching moments. As children get older, however, I believe we as parents and teachers have to be more proactive. She needs to practice her spelling and addition facts, but we can select words she’s interested in (animals, palindromes, etc.) and we can play games to practice math. We can answer her questions, follow her lead, and teach her valuable skills and content.

Child-led can be something as simple as a spelling list or as complex as a unit study or real-world project. I think the key is showing children that we are interested in them and delight in them. Creating that safe space for each child to feel known and cherished is the first and most important step in child-led learning.

From my earliest days on this earth, I know I’ve always been afraid of failure. Afraid I will disappoint someone, afraid I will be embarrassed, afraid of the consequences. Quite honestly, I never attempted something if I didn’t know that I would succeed in the end.

Until January.

In January 2019, after over a year of dreaming and praying, I officially started marketing my micro school. This thing that had been my God-given dream, my secret, my biggest professional hope, was now out there for the world to see.

SCARY STUFF!

It’s October 2019, and now I can look back on the many sleepless nights, stressful budget decisions, list of unknowns, and high-stakes meetings as a growing process. But in the middle of it, it felt hard. Hard, stressful, and scary. I had no clue if the vision I had for this unique little school would be shared by anyone at all, let alone enough families to actually pay the bills! Would I find teachers to buy in to my vision? Would I find a place to call home for our school? Would the kids enjoy coming to such an unconventional learning space?

There were so many what ifs, but many more confirmations and answers to prayer. One of my favorite quotes by pastor Mark Batterson is, “Work like it depends on you and pray like it depends on God.” Those are words to live by, and 10 months later I can honestly say it was only from A LOT of work and A LOT of prayers that our school is up and running. It is a dream come true, and I’m grateful every day for the families, teachers, and precious children that are part of this community.

Each and every day presents its own set of challenges that help me grow and keep me humble. They are hard and stressful at times, but the fear is gone. I did something new, something that I was terrified of, and despite the setbacks and impossible odds, I get to teach and mentor 24 amazing kids each school day. I feel beyond blessed, and I am so thankful that the Lord entrusted me with this dream. The school certainly has a lot of growing and improving to do, but through every change, setback, and disappointment I know that God is molding the school, and all of the people in it, to look more like Him.

So if you’re reading this and feel the Lord nudging you to do something bold, I encourage you to listen. It won’t be without big challenges or major sacrifices, but you will grow as a person and as a servant of God far more than you could ever imagine. As Christians, we are called to step out of our comfort zones in faith, knowing that through success or failure, God is for us. Through His power and love we can love and serve others well. I pray that our school will continue to help me, and everyone it touches, grow to reflect Christ more.

In just under three months, Ascend Micro School will be beginning its inaugural year! While I am mostly just excited, I must admit that there is a part of me that is completely shocked. What started as a dream in 2017 has turned into a small community of amazing families that are eager to reimagine what education looks like for their children. I honestly went into this adventure thinking that there was a significant chance that no one would be interested in our little school! Since that is clearly not the case, I thought it would be wise to jot down my journey of launching a school and share the emotions that have come with it.

In the fall of 2017, I had an accident that could have landed me in the top 10 on America’s funniest home videos. I was running around the kitchen with my dog and daughter and completely wiped out, resulting in a trip to the ER and a broken elbow. For six weeks, I was unable to drive, open sippy cups, or chop a vegetable. What I was able to do was sit with a variety of dear friends over coffee for hours at a time. It was during one of these coffee dates that the idea for our micro school came to be. My friend and mentor, also a gifted intervention specialist, and I were talking about technology, artificial intelligence, and of course, Elon Musk. I mentioned to her that Elon Musk started a micro school in Space X headquarters. She proceeded to ask me what micro school was, and I explained enthusiastically. She then looked me square in the eyes, pointed at me and said, “Sarah, you need to start one of those.”

I reacted like any teacher and mother of a high needs child would. I said, “Nah…Someone else can do it.” Naturally, when I got home, I began googling all the micro schools that I could find. I didn’t want to start a school, I was just curious. or so I thought.

Several months and a lot of research later, the idea was still nagging me. Why couldn’t I start a micro school? I am a highly qualified teacher with a passion for bright and quirky kids in combination with innovative education. I have a daughter who won’t fit in to a normal school setting. My husband and I believe that the world is changing, and so should our methods of educating children. And I’m desperate for an excuse to have a homeschool setting with kids other than just my own.

What would the school look like? Would it be part-time or full-time? How would I integrate my core beliefs about education into an unconventional setting. My husband and I started by creating a list of what we thought the outcomes of K-12 education should be. I then started crafting a template for what our school would cover and how we would set it up. While there have been several iterations of our school model, there are some things that have remained the same. We are a hybrid school with the intentions of partnering with families so that they can have an active role in their child’s education. We also design individualized learning plans for each child based on their strengths, interests, learning styles, and skills mastered. But the best part of our school are the real-world projects. We use the design thinking process to equip students with a myriad of skills that are rooted in work that comes from a place of empathy.

In the year between first having this dream and actually marketing the school, I had a lot of growing to do, hardships to overcome, and courage to gain. Fear can be crippling, and can prevent us from chasing our audacious dreams. But that story is for the next blog post!

If you are a parent, you have experienced the endless why questions that all children seem to have. We as humans have an innate curiosity about the world and how it works, and it is delightfully abundant in children.

As a teacher, a common why question I’ve heard is, “Why do I need to learn this?” To be honest, in a public school I sometimes struggled to answer that question because the reason to learn things always comes back to God.

There are 4 big truths that I want to convey to my children.
1. God uniquely created me.
2. God loves me.
3. God is my friend.
4. God calls me to love and serve others like Jesus.

When we embrace these truths, we are able to answer many of the why questions, because the answers always point back to God, His love for us, and His calling on our lives.

One of my favorite Bible verses is Mark 10:45 where Jesus says, “For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” These words highlight what people are to do: serve. And yes, children most certainly can begin learning this. It can be uncomfortable, challenging, heartbreaking, and inconvenient, but loving and serving others is so, so worth it.

Mundane tasks teach us perseverance. Hard concepts teach us determination. Refining our character teaches us how to best “live a life worthy of our calling” (Ephesians 4:1). Math teaches us how to steward our blessings. Literature helps us learn from others. Writing provides many ways to communicate to others and share our thoughts. A student-centered environment illuminates the skills and gifts of each child. Learning in community teaches us that life can be simultaneously beautiful and messy. Every skill that we acquire can be used both now and in the future to love our neighbors and serve our God.

And that is why we learn.