The roots of Faithscape Learning Pod in Casa Grande, AZ, stretch back to founder Deja Hillis’s childhood. “As a student myself with a disability, a hearing disability, I got to see kind of firsthand what my teachers dealt with trying to accommodate me. But also, I got to see the stresses of children as they cope through disability,” she recalls. After completely losing her hearing when she was 13, she knew she wanted to teach so she could support kids who were going through similar difficulties.

Deja also loved writing, which she’d gotten into as a way to express her feelings as she coped with her hearing loss. She majored in English and then became a charter school teacher after she graduated. She had a somewhat Pollyanna-ish vision of what teaching would be like, but the reality was quite different. Her school was very regulated and didn’t allow her to be creative in her student management or teaching.

After around 10 years of teaching in charter and district schools, Deja knew she wanted to teach a different way. She wasn’t sure how to do that, so she began researching. As her own daughter, who was very advanced, approached school age, Deja started panicking about where she would send her. Then she learned about microschools and the KaiPod Catalyst program. 

After completing the KaiPod program in 2023, Deja opened Faithscape last year. Now in its second year, the learning center serves 18 students in kindergarten through fourth grade. It operates Monday through Thursday, 8 a.m. to 3 p.m., and parents can choose from two-day, three-day, or four-day (full-time) plans.

The day starts with students gathering in a circle, waiting for everyone to arrive. One student kicks things off with their signature chant: “Who are we? FS Kids, FS Kids.” After celebrating and sharing how everyone is doing, they dive into Bible study using Sermons for Kids.

They use The Good and the Beautiful curriculum—partly because many families were already using it, but also because it’s accessible and diverse in its imagery. Deja and her husband, a military veteran, rotate through math and reading lessons with students grouped by age and ability. They take several breaks to keep the kids fresh and engaged. After lunch, Deja’s sister comes in and works as an academic coach, focusing mostly on science and social studies, while Deja teaches writing. They finish the day with enrichment time, which includes PE, art, t‑shirt design, cooking, and similar activities. 

Without a traditional playground, students have gotten creative on the pavement outside, inventing games with PE equipment. “It’s honestly like it’s the best. Like seeing them just come up with so many creative ways to have fun without a playground, and there are no complaints. None. They’re just having a blast,” she says with a smile.

Deja plans to cap enrollment at 24 students and is considering adding middle school grades, prompted by her second- and third-grade students already asking where they’ll go after fifth grade. She told them, “If you get to fifth grade and you graduate fifth grade, you can still be here,” and then realized she’d just made a promise and better start thinking ahead to fulfill it. “Why not?” she says. And that, she adds, is the beauty of microschooling. It can be what she and her families need it to be.

All 18 students currently use Arizona’s Empowerment Scholarship Accounts (ESA) program to afford tuition. Deja thinks it may have been possible to start Faithscape without the ESA, but it would have been hard for families to choose it. “A parent has an option: either go to a school, public school, for free or pay, you know, out of pocket. And right now, with the economy and things going on, I know it would have been very difficult for parents to afford to do this,” she says.

For someone who hated being in the spotlight as a child, running a school seemed unlikely. “I never would have thought I would do this because I’m not that person. I’m not somebody who likes talking publicly, public speech, anything where I’m the center of attention. As a kid, I’ve always really despised that,” she says. “But look at me. I’m just growing. I’m learning. I’m just going with it.”

Her advice for aspiring school founders flows from that realization about herself. “Don’t let anything stop you,” she urges, while acknowledging it may sound cliché. “The hardest thing is thinking that it’s going to be hard. Your perception is your reality. Just do it.”

When Katie Kilgore took a job at a microschool that prioritizes self-directed learning, she had no idea where it would lead her. Her career had taken her through real estate, owning a women’s clothing store, paralegal work, and, eventually, seven years in private school administration. But the microschool opened her eyes to what education could look like.

When she saw her child struggling with anxiety and stress in fourth and fifth grade, she had an epiphany. “The Lord just impressed upon my heart, you don’t have to settle, you can actually do something different for your kids. And that was kind of when I was like, ‘What, me? I’m supposed to do this?’” she recalls. “So I think my kids were the biggest inspiration.”

Three Cords Academy was the result of that epiphany. It launched in 2024 with four children from three founding families. Now in its second year, the school serves nine students aged 8–13, meeting Monday through Thursday from 9 a.m. to 3 p.m. in a small church in Carrollton, Georgia. Fridays are reserved for independent work, service projects, or field trips. 

The school takes a flexible approach. They start with a launch time, where Katie asks the kids a discussion question, or they just have a casual group conversation to share how they’re doing and what’s going on that day. Then they pray and recite the Pledge of Allegiance before diving into academics. Math and English language arts happen at each student’s own pace in the mornings, with a recess break in between. Afternoons bring unit studies, expert speakers, and enrichment activities. Students recently completed a military unit and attended a Veterans’ Day program. They’ve studied astronomy, read C.S. Lewis, and worked through hands-on science labs.

Thursdays are unique—the school rotates between two families’ farms, where students can feed chickens, goats, and cows, learn pottery, take piano lessons, and enjoy plenty of outdoor activities. “We try to keep it less screen time, more outside time, more playtime, and more enrichment on those days,” Katie says.

While they do their best to meet each child’s individual needs, Katie is honest about her limitations. For example, she has one 12-year-old student who works below grade level academically. When his parents approached the school, Katie told them she didn’t have the skill set for what he needs. But they disagreed, explaining, “He needs a loving environment where he can build his confidence, where people will love him for who he is, and he just needs a community. The academics will come when they’re going to come.” The student has thrived, showing tremendous growth this year. 

Having come from a competitive private school environment, Katie appreciates the collaborative approach she has found in the microschooling world. “I love that about the microschool community,” she reflects. “It’s not like their idea is sacred and their own idea. They really want to share it and hope that you can grab a piece of it that you can kind of reinvent for yourself.”

The school operates as a registered homeschool program in Georgia, but recently achieved 501(c)(3) status. This approach gives families flexibility with curriculum and pacing while building toward something bigger. Katie envisions eventually serving 50 students across all age levels—small enough that everyone knows everyone, but large enough to create a solid community.

The path hasn’t been without challenges. Katie admits to lying awake some nights, worrying about getting it right. Despite that, she says it’s been worth it. “Surround yourself with a good team and just go for it,” is her advice to anyone considering a similar undertaking. “Make adjustments as you need to make adjustments and have grace. Ask for help.” Joining networks to connect with other founders has been hugely beneficial.

Something she recently read sums it up well for Katie: “It’s not a failure if you tried. But if you never tried, that’s the failure because you just never did it.”

When millions of children struggle to sit still, focus, and conform to rigid classroom expectations, it’s become an epidemic of ADHD and other disorders. The New York Times is beginning to consider what should have been obvious all along: Maybe the problem isn’t the children.

Others, including my colleague Kerry McDonald, have been raising these concerns for years. As Kerry notes, Boston College psychology Professor Peter Gray has described ADHD as a “failure to adapt to the conditions of standard schooling.” In an informal survey of parents, he found ADHD traits were no longer seen as problems when children left conventional classrooms for homeschooling or self-directed learning. Family therapist Marilyn Wedge wrote an entire book on how American schools transformed normal childhood energy into a diagnosable epidemic.

However, the Times author misses an important point: the structure of our education system, which is essentially a government monopoly, is a big part of the problem. When the system shifts in one direction—such as an extreme focus on standardized test scores or lowering academic expectations to ever-younger ages—millions of children are affected. Families whose children don’t fit the current model are often stuck.

Our place-based school system was established in the 1800s, when travel and communication were significantly limited. It may have made sense at the time. But we no longer face those limitations. And we know that what works for one child often doesn’t work for another. The very features that drive efficiency in bureaucratic systems—standardization, uniform policies, and centralized decision-making—are disadvantages when applied to something as individual as a child’s development and well-being.

In short, one size does not fit all when it comes to education.

Unfortunately, the author is dismissive of what may be the most promising solution: school choice. More than 30 states now have programs that allow some state tax dollars to follow children to private schools and other educational options, which opens new worlds of opportunity for families.

A diverse educational marketplace better fits the reality that different children have different needs. Some children thrive in classical education environments with structured curricula, while others do better in project-based or Montessori settings. Some need smaller class sizes or more outdoor time; others excel in larger, more competitive environments. For many, a blended approach may be best.

When families can choose from various educational models, children who might be labeled as problems in conventional schools often discover they’re simply in the wrong setting. My Friday Feature series on the Cato at Liberty blog provides real-world examples of this, perhaps most explicitly with Plaza Academy in Kansas City, MO, which was founded in 1974 to serve kids who didn’t fare well in public schools.

Ultimately, it’s not necessarily “schools” that are the problem so much as it is our current approach, which prioritizes the system over individual children. In the public school system, bureaucrats and policymakers make the big decisions. School choice flips this dynamic, shifting power to parents, who know their kids best. Rather than forcing every child through the same system and then labeling­—and possibly medicating—those who struggle, choice allows families to find learning environments where their children can flourish. 

The Trump administration has announced that the US Department of Education (DoED) is sending day-to-day responsibility over several of its functions to other departments. This is a small step in the right direction—DoED must end. But it is crucial not to lose sight of the much bigger, ultimate goal: ending all unconstitutional and unproductive federal meddling in education.

What Do We Get from Shipping DoED’s Parts Elsewhere?

The US Department of Education is unconstitutional. The Constitution gives the federal government only specific, enumerated powers, and authority over education is nowhere among them. Not only does the department run numerous unconstitutional programs, it is also a cabinet-level department, giving the secretary of education direct access to the president. Before the department’s creation in 1979, most federal education functions were housed in an office within the Department of Health, Education, and Welfare. The National Education Association, the nation’s largest teacher union, fought for the department’s creation to wield greater influence.

Dismantling DoED but keeping its functions in other departments would eliminate this direct presidential access, lower the profile of the person in charge of federal education programs by reducing them below secretary level, and bolster the symbolically crucial point that constitutionally, the federal government should not be in education. It would also dismantle a mismanaged agency that has failed to complete audits for the last three years, in part due to its infamous mishandling of its biggest responsibility: college student financial aid.

DoED also has had little discernable positive effect on educational outcomes, at least as measured by the federal government’s own National Assessment of Educational Progress. The chart below shows changes in the percentage of high school seniors hitting “proficiency” or surpassing a middle benchmark—depending on the test—as well as percentage changes in real total and federal spending per pupil since the department’s birth in 1980. Performance is basically stagnant, while spending is appreciably higher.

Importantly, many things affect standardized test scores, and such scores are hardly the end all, be all of education. It is also not clear how much higher academic achievement should be per additional dollar spent. Finally, moving federal programs to new departments might not improve matters, though it would be difficult to do much worse.

What Do We Get from Shipping Parts Elsewhere with Interagency Agreements?

The Trump administration made a trade-off in how it sent off the parts of the department. By using interagency agreements, the administration was able to move big parts, possibly without breaking the law. Several statutes appear to allow the Education Department, essentially, to contract with other agencies to provide resources or services, with DoED maintaining ultimate responsibility for the function. There might be a question of how much can be transferred by interagency agreement, but this move seems less likely to be overturned by a court than an outright transfer.

Are the Parts Being Shipped to the Right Places?

All of the moves are logical, with the proviso that most of these jobs should not exist at all:

• Elementary and Secondary Education to the Department of Labor: A major purpose of education is to give students skills and knowledge to be productive workers. This can be done by entering college, or career and technical education options in K‑12. These functions could have also gone to Health and Human Services, which deals with child welfare and was basically the old home of education.
• Postsecondary Education to Labor: These programs, which largely fund institutions of higher education, not students, also make logical sense in the Department of Labor. For the vast majority of people who go to college, a top goal is to get a job. It also makes sense to keep higher education with K‑12.
• Indian Education to the Department of the Interior: Interior already runs the Bureau of Indian Education. It is logical to locate all Indian education functions in the department that has primary responsibility for working with Native Americans.
• Foreign Medical Accreditation to the Department of Health and Human Services: “Health” is the first word in Health and Human Services. It makes sense to place a job of determining if doctors from other countries are qualified to practice medicine in the United States at the department.
• Childcare Access Means Parents in School to Health and Human Services: This program is focused on providing childcare for college students with children. It is logical that the department that houses Head Start—the primary federal early childhood program—would handle this.
• International Education and Foreign Language Studies to the State Department: Programs focused internationally are clearly in the State Department’s wheelhouse.

What Else Could Have Moved?

Everything could be moved, but here are a couple of big ones currently staying put:

• Federal Student Aid: The biggest part of the Department of Education, oversees student loans, Pell Grants, and Work Study. It could have been moved to the Treasury Department, which already has a role in collecting student loans, or the Small Business Administration, though it is not as well-situated to handle student loans as Treasury.
• Office for Civil Rights: This could have moved to the Department of Justice, which has primary responsibility for civil rights enforcement and has an existing education section.

What Will the Savings Be?

Moving day-to-day responsibility over these functions will probably not achieve appreciable savings by streamlining bureaucracy. The programs are not supposed to change in terms of what they do or their reporting requirements.

What Needs to Be Done?

Eliminating the Department of Education is important, and the Trump administration’s moves get us a little closer by reducing DoED’s footprint. But until whole programs and functions are eliminated, moving them is largely rearranging Titanic deck chairs; money will continue to be wasted and bureaucracy maintained. Based on constitutionality—“what is the federal government authorized to do?”—the following is all that should remain among current DoED’s responsibilities, along with where they should probably reside:

• Civil Rights Enforcement: Under the 14th Amendment the federal government is charged with stopping state and local government discrimination in their provision of education. Again, this should go to the Department of Justice.
• Indian Education: Through the treaty power, the federal government has authority to work with Indian tribes. Again, Interior.
• Impact Aid: This is funding to compensate school districts that have federal lands in their boundaries, such as military bases, which often include children and cannot be taxed. It is arguably constitutional under defense or territory provisions in the Constitution. It could go under Interior or the Department of Defense.
• The District of Columbia Opportunity Scholarship Program: This private school choice program serves families in DC, over which the federal government has exclusive jurisdiction. This could go to Treasury or Health and Human Services.
• Gallaudet and Howard Universities: Both are in the District of Columbia and funding could come through Treasury or Health and Human Services.

Everything other than the above Department of Education functions should be phased out by Congress, perhaps over four years to allow schools and families to adjust. The Constitution, and truly returning power to the people and states, demands it.

A group of Tennessee parents and anti-school-choice advocacy organizations filed a lawsuit on November 20, challenging the state’s Education Freedom Scholarship (EFS) Act, claiming the program violates the state’s constitutional mandate to maintain and support a single system of public schools that provides every child with an adequate education.

The lawsuit invokes Tennessee Constitution Article XI, Section 12, which requires the General Assembly to “provide for the maintenance, support, and eligibility standards of a system of free public schools.” But this mandate establishes a floor, not a ceiling—while requiring the state to maintain public schools, it does not prohibit funding for alternative educational options.

Curiously, the lawsuit glosses over the first sentence of Section 12, which broadly asserts, “The State of Tennessee recognizes the inherent value of education and encourages its support.” The EFS program aligns with that constitutional goal by supporting students who would benefit from a different educational environment. It acknowledges that one size doesn’t fit all children when it comes to education.

This year, the first year of operation, the EFS program distributed scholarships worth approximately $7,300 to 20,000 students, which was the legislatively mandated enrollment cap. Within two hours of the application being opened, 30,000 applications had been received. Ultimately, nearly 43,000 students applied, meaning more than 23,000 had to be turned away. Half of the 20,000 scholarships were reserved for lower-income students or students with special needs.

The lawsuit argues that private schools that participate in the EFA program don’t face the same accountability requirements as public schools. This is true; they face much stronger accountability. Families voting with their feet—and their tuition dollars—provides truer accountability than bureaucratic mandates. Parents who select schools for their children consider factors far beyond standardized test scores: safety, values alignment, class size, teacher quality, and individual attention. When schools fail to meet family expectations, enrollment declines, and schools must improve or close.

Meanwhile, where is the evidence that accountability through bureaucratic mandates works? It’s certainly not in the lawsuit itself. The complaint states that more than half (emphasis in original) of Tennessee public school students are “taught by a teacher deemed ineffective.” It goes on to cite Hamilton and Shelby County Schools as having poor student outcomes, cutting programs, lacking resources, and allowing buildings to fall into disrepair. But both districts are subject to volumes of regulations, and each spent more than $16,000 per student in 2024. This is the system they point to for accountability?

Happily, school choice programs can benefit public schools by introducing healthy competition that drives innovation and improvement. When public schools must earn enrollment rather than simply expect it, they become more responsive to the needs of students and their families.

Tennessee families deserve the freedom to direct their children’s education according to their values and the unique needs of their students. They should not have to pay for education twice—once through taxes and again through tuition—in order to make those choices. While the Tennessee constitution clearly mandates a public school system, it does not guarantee public schools a monopoly on education funding or prohibit the legislature from expanding educational opportunities.

Coincidentally, on the same day that activists filed suit to block families from accessing educational choice, the Tennessee Department of Education announced key dates for the second year of the Education Freedom Scholarship program. Hopefully, news of the lawsuit won’t deter parents from applying to the program if they think it’s what will work best for their children. 

Montana mom Holly Long had no idea how motherhood would change her. “I loved my job. When I had my daughter, I thought I’d take my three months and go back to work just like all the other ladies that I worked with did,” she recalls. But, to her surprise, Holly didn’t want to send her daughter to someone else each day—she wanted to stay home with her.

As her daughter got older, Holly found herself saddened by the thought of sending her to school. When the pandemic brought about a new wave of homeschooling, Holly decided to give it a try. But she struggled to find a community that was a good fit. Her daughter loves to be outside in nature, and Holly wanted her to have that freedom. None of the homeschool groups around them offered that environment. The family moved to Missoula in search of more opportunities. 

After some online searching, Holly and her husband discovered Zootown Homeschool Community, and it seemed to be exactly what they were seeking. The Zootown page was full of kids learning outdoors—at the river, exploring science, or in a weekly forest school that focuses on nature topics. One of the first activities Holly and her daughter participated in was a behind-the-scenes tour of the airport, and it was terrific.

Holly says Zootown is more of a support network for homeschooling families rather than a traditional co-op. With 65 member families representing about 146 kids this year, the group doesn’t teach each other’s children or maintain a physical location. Instead, they create opportunities for connection and learning throughout the community.

One of the best aspects has been the community’s warm welcome. It made Holly want to be more involved so she could help others feel the same way. After around six months of being in the group, she learned they needed a new treasurer. Holly decided that sounded like a good way for her to be more involved, so she volunteered. “Now I’m one of the behind-the-scenes people that actually help and seek out different places in the community, different learning opportunities, just welcoming people, having welcoming committee parties and things like that,” she says happily. And it’s a family affair—her daughter loves the community, and her husband has made new dad friends. “It has literally become like one of the biggest parts of our life now,” Holly adds. 

The Zootown calendar is packed—some months feature activities every day. Any member can propose a field trip or learning opportunity. They bring their idea to the board, work with the volunteer coordinator, and make it happen. Age groups tend to organize naturally—there’s a large cohort of 5- to 7‑year-olds, plenty of preschoolers tagging along as younger siblings, and a growing tween group that meets for regular fencing classes and craft sessions. “It’s like field trips on steroids,” explains Holly.

Zootown Homeschooling Community started a few years ago when Katherine Porter, a homeschool mom who was new to Missoula, was searching for community. Finding only broken links and defunct groups online, she reached out through Facebook, asking if anyone wanted to get together. At first, Zootown was just a Facebook group of moms meeting during the day to let their kids play, but it evolved into something more structured. When Katherine moved to another town, the group transitioned to nonprofit status to access more opportunities.

Today, Zootown charges a $45 annual membership fee per family to cover insurance costs. The organization runs entirely on volunteers, with a board that includes a president, secretary, and treasurer, plus additional members.

Monthly “homeschool chats” at members’ homes give parents a chance to connect without kids present, sharing struggles and strategies. For Holly, these relationships matter as much as the field trips. “A big part of it for me is finding friends that are also moms that are homeschooling because this is the biggest part of my life right now,” she says.

Her six-and-a-half-year-old daughter—who overheard our conversation and added the half year when Holly said she was six—thrives on the constant activity. “Every day she’s like, ‘What do I have today?’” Holly says. Between choir, science programs at their award-winning library, and various field trips, there’s rarely a dull moment.

For Holly, Zootown is exactly what she was looking for to make homeschooling work for her family. “I felt so welcomed when I joined. I just couldn’t believe that it existed,” she says. “I feel so blessed and enriched with all these like-minded families.” 

This afternoon the Trump administration announced its latest move to dismantle the US Department of Education. As I have explained for decades, the department is unconstitutional, unhelpful, and needs to go. How close does today’s action get us to where we need to go?

It goes in the right direction. Basically, it sends day-to-day work in six areas out of the Education Department and puts it in other agencies:

• Elementary and Secondary Education to the Department of Labor
• Postsecondary Education to Labor
• Indian Education to the Department of the Interior
• Foreign Medical Accreditation to the Department of Health and Human Services
• Child Care Access Means Parents in School to Health and Human Services
• International Education and Foreign Language Studies to the State Department

This is a hot take because each one of these moves has more details than the basic transfer, details I still have to dive into. But the idea of moving Education Department functions elsewhere makes sense, especially things like Indian education to the Interior Department, which already houses the Bureau of Indian Education.

The moves also appear to adhere to the Constitution and the law. There is, of course, an argument that the department is unconstitutional and, hence, the president could refuse to operate it. But the administration has not made that argument, saying that ultimately Congress, which is the legislative body, created the department, gave it many of its jobs, and must act to eliminate it. With that in mind, the administration is not flat-out eliminating functions but is creating interagency agreements that leave the Education Department in charge but give regular operations to other agencies. No doubt the legality of this will be tested—there will almost certainly be lawsuits—but there does seem to be substantial leeway for the Secretary of Education to enter into partnerships with other executive departments.

Of course, this is not the same as ending the Department of Education or federal education intervention. The Education Department still retains many functions, most notably administering college student aid, and is still officially responsible for all of the operations that it is, essentially, contracting out. So bureaucracy will remain, and the Constitution will continue to be violated.

There is much more work to be done.