It has been four hours since my husband walked out the door with our three children, called a cab, and sent them off to a shopping centre in Sapporo. Alone. Just the three of them. I am sitting in the quiet apartment they left behind, and I am thinking about freedom — what it actually looks like, how it is built, how long it takes, and how quietly astonishing it is when you finally see it walking out the door in the bodies of your own children. When we decided to homeschool —

The Unlabeled Journey of Learning and Living I spoke with a friend today about labels. How they can be so utterly useful, and yet, in...

Memory is a curious traveler, holding onto fragments of experiences like delicate pressed flowers between the pages of life's journal....

And there she sat with her book, in the gentle spring day on the countryside in Australia. The girl who could read since she was six, and...

This is going to be a long one, so allow me time travel down the memory lane to the period of our lives where the homeschooling path was...