Our Story

My story is your story. It’s the story of every woman who became a mom or discovered something bigger than herself that utterly changed the course of her life. It wasn’t one event that led me here or has declared my future, but rather a beautifully unfolding series of seemingly unrelated events that, when given my yes, brought me to this place. Inspiration pours from my children and the love I have for them, the heart I have for our community, and the breathtaking creation that beckons my soul. I founded the Schoolhouse Movement because I see the weave that connects us and tugs at our being to find each other and build something beautiful and strong together. A friendship, a family, a play group, a co-op, a bigger table to fit more for the next meal together. Whatever it may be, let’s find the people we can call OUR people and rebuild the village.

Our family’s story in education begins like most everyone else’s…the majority of families, at least. Over years, we had built an amazing community of mommas, families and toddler friends. Then poof, everyone was enrolled in preschool. I remember that moment of panic, of being left behind, but more importantly, the feeling of loss of my day to day community. Alas, new phase, new community, right? After varying preschool and play group experiences, my kids continued on to public school. I had boxes that were thoughtful and intentional that were checked. Whenever a school schedule didn’t work, we tweaked it. If the rules didn’t quite fit our family, we worked around them. We made it work…good enough. I trusted and followed my intuition, within the framework I didn’t actually realize I was in. We spent hours upon hours outside to breathe life and decompress from our structured days. And over the years, we found amazing people, but we lacked true community. During the great pause of COVID, we cherished our time and relished in the freedom of days spent together without the constant rush of succumbing to a predetermined schedule. It was the joy I knew from their early childhood. It was soul filling, for me and for them. And it brought clarity. For us, it meant bringing my children home and finding our community. It took effort, as things worthwhile often do, but we found our people. And here we are. Sharing stories, whether classics or our own, together. Communal meals, shared experiences, learning, laughter and life together, with children running, playing, climbing trees and being children. It’s how it’s meant to be.