What to Do When a Teenager Checks Out of Homeschool

Disengagement at 15 hits different. Here's how to stay in relationship and keep learning alive.

From the Notebook: Field Notes

There is a particular kind of panic that sets in when a teenager checks out of homeschool.

At eight, resistance might look like hiding under the table when it's time for math.

At ten, you can change curriculum, shorten the lesson, add movement, find a different book, turn multiplication into a game.

At fifteen?

They may simply look at you and say:

I don't care.

And they mean it.

The curriculum sits untouched.

Assignments are technically completed but contain approximately twelve percent effort.

They sleep late.

They don't want to read what you've chosen.

They don't want to talk about college.

They don't seem particularly concerned that they're "behind."

And the more concerned you become, the less concerned they appear to be.

This is usually the point when a homeschool parent starts wondering:

Have I completely screwed this up?

Probably not.

But something is telling you that the educational arrangement you have right now isn't working.

And at fifteen, I think we have to take that information seriously.

Disengagement at fifteen is different

A teenager is not simply a larger version of a nine-year-old.

The developmental job has changed.

They are beginning to answer questions like:

Who am I?

What am I good at?

Where do I belong?

Who are my people?

What do I believe?

What kind of adult might I become?

What can I do without you?

That last one can sting a little.

But it's supposed to happen.

Which means the educational relationship has to change, too.

If homeschooling still primarily consists of a parent selecting the curriculum, assigning the work, setting the schedule, monitoring completion and correcting the output, a teenager may begin to experience education as something being done to them.

Even if it worked beautifully for years.

Even if you have been thoughtful and loving.

Even if they used to like it.

The system may simply have reached its expiration date.

Before you fix the school problem, find out if it is a school problem

When a teenager disengages, get curious before you get punitive.

What changed?

Is the work too easy?

Too difficult?

Too repetitive?

Does it feel irrelevant?

Are they lonely?

Are they sleeping?

Do they have meaningful friendships?

Are they getting enough physical activity?

Are they spending enormous amounts of time online because that's the only place they experience belonging?

Is there conflict in the family?

Do they have responsibilities that make them feel useful?

Is there an adult besides their parents who knows them well?

Do they have anything in their week they genuinely look forward to?

Do they have something they're becoming good at?

And sometimes there may be developmental, emotional, physical, vision, hearing, attention or learning issues that deserve a closer look.

Remember, you are their Education Manager, so you still get to ask these questions.

But don't diagnose your teenager from the kitchen table.

But don't assume laziness when something deeper may be happening, either.

Behavior is information.

Especially when the behavior changes.

Protect the relationship before you protect the curriculum

This may be the hardest part.

When we become frightened about our children's education, we tend to talk about their education more.

Did you do your math?

Where's the essay?

You're three lessons behind.

Did you email your teacher?

What time are you getting up tomorrow?

What are you going to do about chemistry?

Have you thought about college?

Eventually, the teenager sees Mom coming and can practically hear the assignment portal opening.

That's dangerous.

Not because expectations are bad.

Because your relationship is more important than becoming the human embodiment of the homeschool dashboard.

Ask yourself:

What do my teenager and I still have that isn't about school?

Protect it.

Drive somewhere.

Eat something.

Work on the car.

Watch a show.

Go hiking.

Make music.

Get coffee. (Yah! Coffee is hot (or cold if iced) right now)

Walk the dog.

Let there be places where you genuinely enjoy each other and nobody mentions algebra.

You are going to need that relationship for much longer than you need this curriculum.

Then have a different conversation

Not:

Why aren't you doing your work?

Try:

This doesn't seem to be working very well anymore. What do you think is going on?

And then do something extremely difficult.

Listen.

Your teenager may say things you disagree with.

They may be unfair.

They may blame you.

They may say the curriculum is stupid.

They may have absolutely no viable alternative plan.

That's okay.

You aren't turning over the keys and moving to another state.

You're gathering information.

Ask:

What part of your education feels pointless right now?

What do you wish you had more of?

What do you wish you had less of?

Is there something you want to be able to do that you can't do yet?

Is there anything you're interested in enough that you'd work hard at it?

What would make your week feel more like your own life?

And perhaps the most revealing question:

If we weren't doing school this way, what do you think you should be doing instead?

You may be surprised by the answer.

Don't confuse "I hate school" with "I don't want to learn"

Those are not the same statement.

A teenager may refuse to write a five-paragraph essay and spend three hours researching how to rebuild an engine.

They may resist assigned reading while consuming 400 pages about a musician they love.

They may refuse your economics curriculum while running a surprisingly sophisticated online resale business.

They may hate biology worksheets and happily spend an entire Saturday working with animals.

They may say they hate math and then calculate mileage, material costs, profit margins or guitar intervals without realizing anyone might call that math.

Look carefully at where the energy still exists.

Where does your teenager voluntarily spend effort?

That's a clue.

Not necessarily an answer.

But definitely a clue.

At fifteen, relevance matters

A younger child can tolerate a fair amount of:

You're learning this because you'll need it later.

Teenagers increasingly want to know:

Later for what?

Good question.

So connect education to an increasingly real adult life.

Can they get a job?

Volunteer somewhere meaningful?

Take a community college course?

Work with a tradesperson?

Join 4-H?

Help run a family business?

Learn to drive?

Manage some money?

Cook meals?

Build something?

Coach younger kids?

Work on a farm?

Create a portfolio?

Earn an industry credential?

Start a small business?

Produce something for an actual client?

Study something because they have decided they want to become competent at it?

At fifteen, the world should be getting bigger, not smaller.

If homeschooling has gradually become a teenager alone in a bedroom completing courses on a laptop, their disengagement may be entirely understandable.

They may need more world.

Keep some non-negotiables

None of this means:

You're fifteen now! Follow your bliss! Math is canceled!

You are still the Education Manager.

For now.

There are competencies young people need.

There are legal homeschool requirements.

There are commitments that should be honored.

There are basic skills that open doors later, and teenagers don't always have enough perspective to understand which doors they may eventually want available.

So identify the actual non-negotiables.

But be ruthless about distinguishing them from your preferences.

Does your teenager truly need to complete this particular curriculum?

Or do they need to demonstrate competency in the subject?

Does school need to happen from 8:30 to 2:30?

Does every subject need to happen every day?

Does learning have to be documented the way you've always documented it?

Does the book have to be finished?

Does your teenager need to write an essay about the assigned topic—or do they need to learn to construct and defend an argument?

Protect the objective. Loosen your grip on the pathway.

That's where teenagers can begin having meaningful ownership without adults abandoning responsibility.

Give them something real to be responsible for

Teenagers need to know that they matter.

Not theoretically.

Practically.

Somebody should notice if they don't show up.

Something should work better because they're there.

An animal needs feeding.

A younger kid expects them at practice.

A customer is waiting.

A garden needs watering.

A boss expects them at nine.

The band needs its bass player.

A neighbor needs help.

A project won't get finished unless they finish their part.

This is one reason real work can be so powerful for adolescents.

It provides something worksheets struggle to manufacture:

consequence.

Not punishment.

Consequence.

My contribution matters here.

That's an incredibly important thing for a young person to discover.

Find other adults

By adolescence, your teenager should probably have meaningful relationships with adults who are not you.

Good adults.

Safe adults.

Adults who know things you don't.

Adults who expect things from them.

Adults who like them.

A coach.

A teacher.

A farmer.

A boss.

A music instructor.

A tradesperson.

A neighbor.

A youth leader.

A family friend.

A mentor.

This isn't a rejection of your role.

It's an expansion of their world.

And sometimes your teenager will receive information from another adult that you have been saying for approximately six years.

Try not to take it personally.

Call it a win.

If the whole thing needs to change, let that be an option

This may be the hardest question for a committed homeschool family:

Is homeschooling still the best educational environment for this kid?

Maybe it is.

But put the question on the table.

Could a hybrid program work better?

A co-op?

Dual enrollment?

A technical program?

A microschool?

Public school?

Private school?

Online coursework combined with substantial work or apprenticeship?

A different homeschool structure with considerably more independence?

Remember: the goal was never to successfully homeschool your child.

The goal was to successfully educate your child.

Those are different commitments.

If another environment would better meet your teenager's academic, social, developmental or relational needs right now, choosing it isn't abandoning your educational philosophy.

It's doing your job as Education Manager.

Start handing over the clipboard

This is where the buy-in conversation changes dramatically.

At six, you might make almost every educational decision.

At ten, your child should have meaningful choices.

At fifteen, they should be participating substantially in designing their educational life.

Because you've only got a few years left before the clipboard belongs to them whether you're ready or not.

Let them practice while you're still there.

Let them make some decisions.

Let some of those decisions be imperfect.

Let them experience consequences.

Let them revise the plan.

Let them discover that freedom and responsibility arrive together.

You aren't trying to create a teenager who perfectly complies with homeschool.

You're trying to help develop a young adult who can eventually say:

Here's what I need to learn. Here's what I'm trying to accomplish. Here's what I don't know yet. Here's where I can find help. And here's what I'm going to do next.

That is educational independence.

Don't panic. Get interested.

If your fifteen-year-old has checked out, don't ignore it.

But don't immediately declare war on it, either.

Something has changed.

Find out what.

Protect your relationship.

Look underneath the behavior.

Identify what is truly non-negotiable.

Give them substantially more ownership over the things that aren't.

Expand their world.

Find meaningful work.

Bring other adults into their ecosystem.

Be willing to change the educational environment if the evidence says it needs changing.

And above all, remember:

The goal isn't to get your teenager to buy back into your homeschool.

The goal is to help them begin buying into their own education.

Those are two very different things.

And at fifteen, that difference may be the whole point.

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FROM THE NOTEBOOK | FIELD NOTES Observations, questions and practical ideas from Regenerate Education Lab about how children learn, grow, work and belong.