Let Them Be Little: Childhood is Not a Race

I’ve lost count of how many times someone has asked, “So what grade is she in?”

It’s a well-meaning question, but it always makes me pause. Not because I don’t know, but because it just...doesn’t quite fit.

It seems simple enough, but there’s a subtle pressure packed into that question. It’s as if our children’s value, potential, or “progress” can be summed up by a number. And heaven forbid they’re not reading fluently by age six, or haven’t mastered multiplication by third grade.

In our homeschool, “grade level” is more like a ballpark than a boundary line. One minute we’re doing middle school science experiments; the next, we’re curled up reading a picture book just because it brings us joy. And yet, the world around us whispers, loudly sometimes, that we should be keeping up, checking boxes, hitting milestones, and following someone else's timeline. And that if they don’t meet a list of “grade-level standards” set by a system designed for the masses, they’re somehow behind.

But here’s what I know deep in my soul: Childhood is not a race.

And behind what, exactly?

A Glance Back

Let’s rewind a few generations.

Back in the 1950s, kindergarten looked completely different. It was a slow and sweet beginning, optional in many places, and filled with wonder. Kids learned to:

• Share and take turns

• Recognize shapes and colors

• Use their imaginations in play

• Listen to stories and talk about them

• Maybe write their name

• Play with clay and finger paint

  
  

That was it. No pressure. No reading requirements. No testing. Just room to grow.

Gosh, even when many of us were growing up in the 1980s and early 1990s, kindergarten was still heavily play-based, focused on social-emotional development and readiness skills. Most schools treated it as a space for easing children into the school environment, not a time to master academic skills.

Typical 1980s and early 1990s kindergarten skills:

• Recognize letters (not necessarily read)

• Maybe identify a few short words

• Count to 10–20, maybe 30

• Identify basic shapes and colors

• Practice pencil grip and simple handwriting (like writing their name)

• Follow simple instructions and routines

• Develop social skills: sharing, turn-taking, cooperating

• Learn through stations, play, music, and movement

• Use imagination in pretend play and storytelling

  
  

Now, let’s jump ahead to kindergarten today:

• Read full sentences by year’s end

• Write paragraphs

• Sit still and focus for long stretches

• Take standardized assessments

• Begin math concepts once taught in second grade

  
  

We’ve added a mountain of requirements, but at what cost?

We’ve traded finger painting and fort-building for phonics assessments. We’ve trimmed away the wiggle room and wonder and packed their days with benchmarks instead.

And for what? So they can meet someone else’s timeline?

How Did We Get Here?

To understand how we got here, it helps to look at how the modern public school system was first designed. In the early 1900s, figures like John D. Rockefeller supported the creation of a national, standardized school system, not to cultivate free thinkers, but to build a reliable, obedient workforce for the growing industrial economy. One of Rockefeller’s education advisors, Frederick Gates, famously said:

“We want one class of people to have a liberal education, and another class... a working class.”

Schools were structured like factories: children in rows, bells signaling shifts, memorization over imagination. The goal was efficiency and uniformity, not curiosity, creativity, or deep connection. And while society has changed, that system largely hasn’t. It’s no wonder it struggles to serve the individual needs of today’s children, especially those who learn best outside the box.

This pressure didn’t disappear with time, it only intensified.

In 1983, the U.S. government released a report called “A Nation at Risk,” warning that American schools were underperforming and the nation’s future was in jeopardy. The response? Ramp up the standards. Push more academic content at younger ages. Measure everything. Even kindergarten, once a place of play and discovery, became a training ground for early reading, writing, and testing.

And our kids? They’ve been racing to keep up ever since.

But Do They Really Need to Keep Racing?

The numbers say no.

Research shows that homeschoolers not only keep up, they often excel. A study from the National Home Education Research Institute (NHERI) found that homeschool students score, on average, 15 to 30 percentile points higher than public school students on standardized academic achievement tests.

And when it comes to college? Homeschoolers are being accepted into top universities across the country, including Ivy League schools, and many receive substantial scholarships. Studies also show that homeschool graduates are more likely to attend and complete college than their public school peers, often with higher GPAs and stronger leadership skills.

So no, our kids don’t need to race.

They need room. Room to grow, to explore, to become. And homeschooling gives us the sacred space to slow down and tend to exactly that

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Every Child Blooms in Their Own Season

One of the greatest gifts of homeschooling is the ability to teach the child in front of you, not a statistic, not a standard, but a living, breathing, beautifully unique soul.

My children are the perfect reminder of this every single day.

My oldest is my old soul. She finds wonder in everything. She believes the world is full of magic and possibility, and she wants to learn it all. From the moment she could talk, she was asking questions. She devours books, writes stories for fun, and sees learning as an adventure.

My five-year-old? She’s my rough rider. She learns by doing. She climbs, builds, creates, and lives out her values with fierce conviction. She's quick to comfort and slow to quit. Her learning isn’t quiet or tidy, it’s embodied, brave, and real. You’ll find her memorizing a dance or nurturing the cats long before you’ll find her tracing letters.

And our littlest, just 7 months old, is already reaching, exploring, watching his sisters with wonder. He lights up at storytime and grabs every crinkly page and soft block he can find. He may become a mix of them both—or someone entirely his own. Either way, we’re letting him unfold in his time.

Why We Chose This Path

We didn’t choose to homeschool because it was easier. We chose it because it lets us slow down.

Because here’s what I know to be true: Learning happens best when it’s built on love, not pressure. When it’s driven by curiosity, not comparison. When it honors the pace of the child, not the pace of the world.

In our home, math happens while measuring ingredients in the kitchen. Science happens in the backyard. Reading happens on the couch with messy hair and cozy blankets.

It’s not always neat. It’s not always Pinterest-perfect. But it’s real. And it’s ours.

For the Mama Who Wonders If She's Doing Enough

If you’ve ever caught yourself worrying—Are we behind? Are we doing this right? Should they know more by now?—I want to gently remind you:

Behind what? Behind whom?

Your child was never meant to be measured by a system that doesn’t know their heart. They weren’t created to fit inside a curriculum box. They were made to grow, wild and wonderful, in their own God-given time.

So if your six-year-old still needs help sounding out words, that’s okay. If your eight-year-old is only now grasping subtraction, that’s okay. If your four-year-old would rather chase butterflies than trace letters, praise God, that’s okay.

Let them be little. Let them become.

From My Heart to Yours

I believe in home, heart, and homeschooling, not just as a method, but as a way of life.

A life where we choose connection over competition. Grace over grind. And presence over pressure.

So the next time someone asks what grade your child is in, don’t worry about giving the “right” answer. Just smile and say: “We’re growing where we’re planted—and we’re right on time.”