The current education system is not working for my child…
The current education system is not working for my child. This is not just a logistical observation—it is a soul-deep knowing that what was designed to educate has instead become a place of restriction, disconnection, and frustration. I used to believe that my child had to fit into it. I used to carry the weight of expectation that school was the only valid path. But now I see more clearly: not every child is academic. Not every child is meant to sit still, memorize facts, or be shaped by tests and rewards. That does not make them broken. It makes them beautifully different.
What this is not—is a blame game. It is not about shaming teachers or schools, who are often doing the best they can in a rigid structure. It is not about rejecting discipline, knowledge, or the value of learning. What this is—is an awakening. A reckoning. A deep parental realization that something fundamental must change. And that change, while daunting, starts with me.
From a love perspective, I see my child not as a problem to be solved but as a light to be nurtured. Love says: your child is enough exactly as they are. Love tells the truth softly but firmly—your child is not failing, they are not behind, they are simply being asked to grow in soil that does not suit them. Love honors their curiosity, their movement, their emotions, their gifts. It whispers: follow the child. Trust the unfolding. You are not here to mold them into what society says is successful—you are here to help them remember who they already are.
From a fear perspective, this journey can feel overwhelming. What if I can’t afford alternatives? What if I fail them? What if they fall behind? Fear is loud. It tells stories of scarcity, judgment, and isolation. It pulls us toward conformity because conformity feels safe. But fear is not the compass. It’s just the noise. We can feel fear and still choose differently. We can hold it gently and say: I see you, but you are not in charge here.
From a sadness perspective, there is grief. Grief for the dream that didn’t work out. Grief for the child who cried every morning. Grief for the exhaustion of trying to homeschool when it wasn’t sustainable. Sadness speaks in quiet moments, when we wonder if we’ve done enough. When we question our capacity. But sadness is not weakness. It is the heart’s way of telling us: this matters. And when we allow it to move through, it softens us toward compassion—for ourselves, for our children, and for others on this road.
From a psychotherapy perspective, this moment is rich with meaning. It is a rupture with the traditional path, but also a potential point of re-integration. Many parents have wounds around achievement, worth, and control. Watching a child not thrive in the system can trigger those old wounds. Therapy invites us to look at the roots—are we trying to “fix” our child, or are we trying to heal something in ourselves? For the child, therapy can support their emotional regulation, sensory needs, self-esteem, and social engagement. Emotional safety always precedes intellectual engagement. Until they feel seen and safe, they cannot truly learn.
From a soul perspective, this is sacred. Your child is not a random spirit; they chose you, and you chose them. They came with a frequency that the old world does not yet understand. Their path may not look like anyone else’s—and that is the point. Their soul came to grow through this challenge, to awaken gifts, and perhaps even to help build new systems. Your role is not to perfect their education but to protect their spirit. Let their uniqueness lead you. Let your intuition guide. The soul does not require a curriculum. It only requires presence, permission, and patience.
From a quantum science perspective, reality is shaped by attention and intention. When we fixate on the idea that school is the only path, we collapse the field of possibility. But when we expand into new thoughts—what if my child could thrive differently? what if there are teachers, mentors, experiences meant just for them?—we begin to attract those realities. The energy shifts. Synchronicities appear. New options unfold. You are not stuck. You are simply shifting dimensions of perception.
From a personal perspective, I tried homeschooling. And honestly—it was hard. I learned so much about how my child learns, how they need movement, how they light up when they’re in nature, or when their emotions are acknowledged. But I also discovered that I do not have the full skillset to meet all their needs alone. That doesn’t make me a failure. It makes me human. It makes me a parent who is willing to explore, to experiment, to keep showing up. I don’t have all the answers, but I am willing to keep asking better questions.
From a financial perspective, this journey is not free. It is expensive to homeschool or create personalized alternatives. Even if you don’t buy fancy materials, simply taking your child on enriching outings adds up. There’s the emotional cost, the opportunity cost of one parent stepping back from work, the fees for special programs or tutors. This is a real, tangible barrier for many families, and the system doesn’t make it easier. But it doesn’t mean you can’t move forward. There are creative solutions: learning pods, shared childcare, nature co-ops, community grants, and sliding scale programs. You don’t need to do it alone. But your concerns are valid. They need space too.
So where do you begin? Right here. With what you know, even if you don’t know the “how.” You know your child is worth more than what the current system sees. You know there is another way, even if it hasn’t revealed itself yet. You know your love is enough to start.
Here’s a six-step exercise to support you on this path:
Name the Truth
Write this out in your own words: “The current system does not work for my child, and I trust myself to explore alternatives.” Let this be your grounding truth.Release the Guilt
On paper, list every reason you’ve felt guilt, shame, or self-blame. Then destroy that list in a symbolic act of release. Say aloud: “I am enough. I forgive myself. I begin again.”Observe Without Intervening
Spend a day simply watching your child. What makes them light up? When do they feel calm, curious, open? This is insight into how they learn. Let them guide you.Reimagine Education
In a journal, let yourself dream. Forget systems. Imagine your child’s perfect learning day. What does it look like? Who is there? What spaces are they in? Write freely, without judgment.Explore One Alternative
Choose one model that intrigues you: Waldorf, unschooling, outdoor education, project-based learning, mentorships, learning centers. Just research—no commitment. Let this be an opening.Find or Create Community
List 3 people or groups who might support your journey. A therapist, a like-minded parent, a local nature school, an online group, a friend who “gets it.” Reach out. Don’t walk this alone.
Your child is not a project to fix. They are a soul to be seen. The path forward won’t be perfect, but it will be more true. And that truth will lead you, one loving step at a time.
Share Your Reflections: I’d love to hear how this story and these insights resonate with you. I read every single one and I respond!
Nicoline C Walsh
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