When Nathanael was in kindergarten, he told his mother, Diana Lopez, that he didn’t want to go to school anymore—ever. His teacher yelled at him, he said. And when Mrs. Lopez picked him up from school, he often immediately started crying.
Nathanael has autism, and in a busy classroom of 25 children, the teacher seemed to have few strategies for dealing with him, Ms. Lopez recalled.
This year at a new school, Nathanael, 7, was happier. He shared a teacher with just six other students—not in one classroom, but throughout the school.
Nathanael attended a microschool, an increasingly popular type of super-small, largely unregulated private school that often serves fewer students than would be enrolled in a single classroom at a traditional school.
The programs benefit from two trends: Since the Covid-19 pandemic disrupted education, many parents have reconsidered their children’s education and are open to non-traditional options. And Republican state lawmakers and donors, who have long supported private school choice, have sent increasing amounts of money to microschools across the country because they give parents a chance to withdraw from school districts at a reasonable cost — typically $5,000 to $ 10,000 per year.
Microschool students are typically registered with their state as homeschoolers. But the new generation of microschools, like the program Nathanael attended, Kingdom Seed Christian Academy, functions more like modern, single-room schoolhouses that meet in homes, church basements and storefronts.
These schools are often open four or five days a week, have full-time teachers, a fixed curriculum and sometimes even standardized tests.
There’s little data on the schools. But the National Microschooling Center, an advocacy group that studies program founders, estimates there are 95,000 microschools and homeschooling centers nationwide, serving more than 1 million students. During the 2023-24 academic year, a third of schools received federal funding through voucher-style programs, up from just 18 percent a year ago.
That number is expected to increase as eight states last year followed Arizona and West Virginia in offering near-universal access to education savings accounts, a type of voucher that can be used for homeschooling expenses. In April, Georgia also passed a law creating the bills.
An estimated 1 million American children are now using public money for some form of private education, more than double the number before the pandemic, according to new research from EdChoice, a nonprofit that supports school choice and tracks the sector.
According to a study by the National Microschooling Center, forty percent of microschool students previously attended public school and another third were homeschooled.
Conservative philanthropists have donated tens of millions of dollars to the programs, including Janine and Jeff Yass and the Koch family, major players in Republican politics.
But the appeal extends beyond the Republican base to include many working-class and middle-class black and Hispanic parents, especially those whose children are disabled and who feel public schools are not meeting their needs.
Ms. Lopez appreciates what the microschool has given Nathanael. He has more confidence, she said, and is no longer afraid to sit in a classroom.
“I feel like I have an emotionally intelligent child,” she said.
Anyone can open a microschool, although more than two-thirds of founders are current or former licensed teachers. And these schools can teach anything they want, including Biblical versions of science and history. Facilities may not be inspected; Background checks on staff members are sometimes unnecessary.
And while many microschool founders say they cater to students with disabilities, the programs are not required to adhere to federal disability laws, and most do not offer the therapies and counseling often available in public schools. Even Ms. Lopez said she might not send Nathanael back to Kingdom Seed in the fall, citing the cost and his need for additional support for his autism.
As momentum for such schools grows, Georgia Democrats have argued that instead of investing in vouchers, more money should go to public schools, allowing them to reduce class sizes and hire additional counselors and social workers who serve disabled students and can help low-income students. The state spent an estimated average of $14,000 per student last year, below the national average of $16,000.
“We have groups that want to impose their values and beliefs on all of our public schools,” said Lisa Morgan, president of the Georgia Association of Educators, an affiliated teachers union. Microschools, she added, are “another method for them to remove their children from our public schools where they are experiencing diversity.”
“A lot of it is ministry.”
Nathanael’s teacher, Desiree McGee-Greene, founded Kingdom Seed Christian Academy last August in the suburban home she shares with her parents, her husband and her son, a student at the school. A family living room is now a cheerful classroom, with walls full of letters, numbers and artwork.
On a sunny morning in April, Nathanael sat on the carpet with just three classmates, aged 5 to 7. The day started with the history of the Bible, with the children sequencing events from Genesis, “creation” to “corruption” to “catastrophe.”
Christianity is at the heart of the curriculum, which was developed by Ms. McGee-Greene, a former public and private school teacher. According to the National Microschooling Center, about a quarter of microschools are faith-based.
“Anything that is not in the Bible and that is contrary to what God’s word says is false,” Ms. McGee-Greene said in an interview explaining her teaching philosophy. “The next principle is that God created everything. That wasn’t millions of years ago – that’s another great truth.”
After the Bible study and a tell lesson in French, Mrs. McGee-Greene’s husband, Michael Greene, a former teacher, filled in for the math and science classes. In the garden, students drew and wrote about insects and flowers in diaries.
Kingdom Seed, which charges $500 a month for full-time tuition, is a family-owned business at its core. The school also received a $10,000 grant from the VELA Education Fund, a nonprofit organization supported by the Koch and Walton families that bills itself as a “community of entrepreneurs” in education.
Ms. McGee-Greene also works as a coach for teachers wanting to start microschools, and hosts a podcast where she shares her tips. She also sells customized lesson programs.
Many founders have multiple sources of income, as microschool costs often do not add up to a competitive salary.
The average teacher salary in Georgia last year was about $68,000, plus a benefits package. A typical microschool charges $7,000 per student for the school year and starts with seven students — a significant pay cut for the founder, who now also has to pay for rent, supplies and other costs.
But many program founders said they traded their income for autonomy and passion.
Marisa Chambers, who runs Tri-Cities Christian School, a microschool just south of Atlanta, said she left her job as a public school administrator in 2019, in part because she was frustrated with the state of education for students with a handicap. Many were several years behind academically – and without much more personal attention, she thought, they were unlikely to catch up.
“It’s very much a ministry,” she said of her six-student program for children ages 8 to 15, which she described as Christian and focused on social justice.
On a recent spring afternoon, students, gathered in the basement of a church, wrote stories or read aloud, depending on their level. A lesson on the life cycle of a butterfly was aimed at younger children. But the older students, Ms. Chambers said, had recently studied the Civil War, and children who liked writing had met a book editor.
Alan, 12, first met Mrs. Chambers when he was in kindergarten at the public elementary school where she worked. He was so withdrawn that he was diagnosed with selective mutism. When his parents or older sister visited, they often found him separated from his peers.
This spring, he laughed and told the story easily to a stranger. “When I was a little kid, I wouldn’t raise my hand,” he recalled. Now, with so much attention from Mrs. Chambers and only five classmates, “I actually like this school. I can learn more here.”
Alan’s sister, Monica Laton-Perez, 24, who cares for him, said Alan has made “tremendous” progress. But even with a significant discount, tuition is expensive for the family, and he will enroll in a charter school in the fall instead.
Expand with taxpayer money
Ms. Chambers said she hopes to serve more low-income students in the 2025-2026 school year, thanks to a law signed by Gov. Brian Kemp in April that will provide a $6,500 education savings account to parents who support their children from public schools that are in the bottom 25 percent. Households earning less than $125,000 for a family of four will be given priority.
Not all microschools will want to participate in the program. While detailed regulations have not yet been released, schools that accept the money must administer annual standardized tests in math and English and report the results to the state. They may also be required to hire at least one certified teacher.
Some microschools are formalizing their status. Keyanna and Jamal Moreau have applied for private school accreditation for CHOICE Preparatory Academy in Lilburn, Georgia. Their program started out as a microschool, but after six years, it’s no longer a microschool.
There are now 40 students, ages 8 to 17, in a building that was once a law firm. Mrs. Moreau, who studied education at university, founded the school after her own children struggled with reading.
The program is secular and, like the Moreaus, almost all students are black. Rigor is a focus. On a school day in April, older students studied Greek and Roman word roots, while younger students built simple electromagnetic motors, with wires and batteries spread across a large table.
Harmony, 11, explained why this environment worked better for her than public school. Here, she said, an adult sat next to her and explained each lesson or concept step by step.
Ms. Moreau said most parents would prefer public school if it worked for their children. Public schools are free and their students have access to clubs, sports teams and a wider range of peers.
But in reality, she said, those schools too often passed over black students who failed to master core concepts from grade to grade.
When students enroll in her program, “I have to rebuild my kids,” she said. “They think they can’t do it, that they’re stupid, that they can’t be taught.”
“Parents are waking up,” she added, “especially in the black community.”
Susan C. Beachy contributed to research.
