Try Before Deciding
Small experiments to try before deciding on homeschooling
One of the questions parents often ask when they are considering homeschooling is this:
“Is there something we can try first, before taking a full decision?”
Most people are not unsure about the idea itself. They are unsure about whether it will work for their family.
I usually begin with a simple clarification.
I don’t have a broad or researched answer. What I have is our own experience. A sample size of one.
We did not study homeschooling in depth before starting. We did not evaluate different family situations or compare approaches. What we had were a few habits that were already part of our life, even before we formally began homeschooling.
Looking back, those small habits gave us some confidence. They showed us, in a quiet way, what learning at home could feel like.
One of the earliest things we did was simply spend more time talking together.
In the evenings, we would often sit down after dinner, sometimes with something simple like pizza, and just talk. Over time, this turned into small storytelling games.
I would begin with a sentence.
“Once there was a boy named Josh who liked exploring the forest.”
One of them would continue.
“Then one day he decided to go trekking inside the forest.”
And it would go on like that, one sentence at a time.
The only rule was that no one could end the story. Each person had to continue it in a way that allowed the next person to carry it forward.
If someone said, “And then the lion came and killed him,” the story would stop. So they learned to keep things open, to build on each other’s ideas.
We did this casually, without any intention of “teaching” anything. But over time, it became clear that they were learning to listen, to imagine, and to express themselves.
At some point, this started showing up in other ways.
My younger son once made up his own story and recorded it as a video. He used simple props, a few Lego pieces, and acted it out himself.
In his story, there was a thief who kept stealing cars. The police wanted to catch him but didn’t have a fast enough vehicle. Then the police officer bought a lottery ticket, won a jackpot, bought a fast car, and finally caught the thief.
It didn’t make complete sense. There were many gaps in logic.
But that wasn’t the point.
He was about four years old at the time. What stood out was that he took the idea, shaped it into a story, and brought it to life on his own.
That sense of initiative was something we had not explicitly taught.
We also tried to involve the children in everyday activities.
For example, when we planned to cook something, we would take them along for shopping.
If we were making pizza, we would say, “We need dough, cheese, and vegetables. Can you help us find them?”
Instead of finishing tasks quickly on our own, we slowed down and included them.
This often took more time. But they began to understand what we were doing and why.
In many situations, children resist simply because they don’t see the context. When they are part of the process, they respond differently.
Some of these habits extended into physical activities as well.
I would occasionally try to get them involved in simple exercise.
With my younger son, something as basic as skipping took a long time. He couldn’t get the rhythm right in the beginning. Even doing a few continuous skips was difficult.
We didn’t push it hard. We just kept coming back to it from time to time.
It took almost three years before he could do a few skips properly and continuously.
There was nothing dramatic about it. Just repeated attempts, small improvements, and a bit of encouragement.
Over time, he became more comfortable with exercise. Now, when we are at home, he makes it a point to do it regularly. Even when we travel, if there is a gym available, he carries his shoes and spends some time there.
Swimming followed a similar pattern.
My older son picked it up quickly. My younger son took longer. For several days, he struggled even to move away from the wall.
But once he got past that initial hesitation, something changed. He began to enjoy the water. He experimented, tried different strokes, and played around on his own.
What started as effort slowly became something he looked forward to.
Sometimes, after a swim, we would stop at a café and have a hot chocolate together. Those small routines became part of the experience.
None of these were part of a structured plan.
We were not trying to “replicate school at home.”
We were simply spending time together in a more deliberate way.
Talking more. Listening more. Doing things together. Allowing time for things to unfold slowly.
These small patterns existed even before we formally started homeschooling.
And in hindsight, they mattered.
They showed us that learning does not always come from instruction. It often comes from participation, conversation, and shared experiences.
So when parents ask if they can try homeschooling before committing to it, this is usually what I suggest.
Start small.
Don’t begin with curriculum or schedules.
Instead, change a few everyday rhythms.
Eat together without distractions.
Talk and listen.
Involve children in what you are already doing.
Allow space for them to express themselves.
The only real investment here is time.
And that is also the real test.
If you find yourself enjoying these moments, even when they slow things down, homeschooling may feel like a natural extension.
If these moments feel like interruptions, then homeschooling may become difficult.
Either way, these small experiments will tell you more than any plan on paper.