I am a home schooler.
I use that new school clothes budget to buy our school books.
I use that backpack and sweet lunch box money to buy laminate paper and dry erase markers.
(Actually, dry erase markers a kind of a luxury item. So we make it stretch.)
Instead of cool shoes like all the other kids wear, we buy unit studies on Ancient Rome and rocket kits.
I rock my one-room school like a boss with the best that the Dollar Tree has to offer.
In my school, the teacher is scandalously close with the principal.
The teacher is a part-time student.
We have all of our meals in the same cafeteria. We all work in the cafeteria.
I have no say in how my property taxes are spent, but I have to clear my curriculum with the people getting my taxes.
You could put us in a room with an empty mason jar and we could find something to learn from it.
All of our work is home work.
We read the Bible and pray in our school. Our teacher prays more than any of the students.
My smart board is a laptop with YouTube and a dry-erase board.
We are all janitors.
In our school, it is cool and also required to fraternize with the younger students.
In our school, the younger students are sometimes taught by the older students.
There are plenty of hugs in our school, and physical affection is encouraged.
There are plenty of tears in our school. The teacher cries more than the students do.
There is plenty of discipline in our school.
The principal works full-time in a separate gig to supplement the fiscal year budget.
In our school, we study a subject until we learn it.
We pay for all of our own testing.
The only common core you will find in our school is after we have all had apples for a snack.
The PTA works seamlessly unlike any other school in the universe.
We speculate that the teacher is required to wear yoga pants.
In my school, the teacher has to frequently communicate with her Ultimate Superintendent, to get wisdom and guidance on what to do with the students He has loaned to her.
In my school, the children are safe.
In my school, the children are loved.
In my school, we all sacrifice.
And even though we are all the janitor, teacher, principal, gardener, secretary, and fiscal manager-----
I wouldn’t trade my school for any other school in the world.