Guest Commentary: Behind the Iron Gate — What I Learned Inside a Government-Funded, Part-Time Enrichment Program

• Press Contact: Kashia Davis, Outreach Director
• Email: Kashia@CHEC.org
• CHEC Office: 720-842-4852

The following story was shared with CHEC by a parent who requested anonymity to protect their personal privacy. While the name and identifying details have been changed, the experiences and emotions shared are completely true and unaltered.

I began working for a government-funded, part-time enrichment program in Colorado the summer after I finished homeschooling my own children. I remember thinking that the “homeschool” part of public school was something I could work with. Although I had never placed my children in the public school system, I believed that, as a Director, I could help shape the program’s philosophy and create something that was both God-honoring and genuinely supportive of homeschooling families. After all, what could be wrong with a government-funded enrichment program if the entire staff were professed believers? 

Little did I know that the concrete surrounding the program was more like an iron gate. Whether it was the people already in place or the system itself, the behind-the-scenes power structures were overwhelming. I quickly discovered that my ability to influence the program or implement anything that reflected the freedoms homeschool families have fought so hard to protect was extremely limited. As I began to see how the system operated, some of the masks worn by staff and those in positions of authority began to fall away. It seemed that those who had been there for years had become so conditioned to the system that compliance often came more naturally than questioning it. 

That realization became even clearer when the program welcomed its first non-binary student. I was not new to the use of pronouns, transgender individuals, or non-binary teenagers. What was new was the set of policies and expectations that accompanied the student’s enrollment. The mandatory use of chosen pronouns was presented as a requirement — without exception — and other students were strongly encouraged to comply as well. Practices that were not disclosed to parents included the use of “male/female” bathrooms, correction of the student’s pronouns in the classroom, and special grouping of students.  

As the Director, I was instructed to tell staff that their jobs were in jeopardy if they did not comply with the district policies. Yet after I delivered the message, those in higher authority would sometimes contradict it, creating confusion and tension among staff and parents and making it more difficult to maintain consistent leadership or direction. 

The same pattern emerged when concerns involved student well-being and accountability. I would regularly walk into classrooms unannounced to observe, and often witnessed teachers shouting at students, discussing questionable topics unrelated to the curriculum, and sometimes encouraging students not to tell their parents what had been discussed. After repeated incidents like these, I sought to hold staff more accountable. My concerns were consistently dismissed by those in authority over me. In fact, I was eventually instructed to announce myself before entering any classrooms. The more I fought to maintain integrity and protect students’ safety, the more my authority was slowly diminishing. 

Despite my efforts, these things continued, and that was perhaps the most heartbreaking part. Parents were unaware of what was happening behind closed doors much of the time. I knew families had entrusted this particular enrichment program with their children because of its strong reputation within the homeschool community, believing it would support their homeschooling journey, yet they were often unaware of what was actually taking place behind the scenes. 

The loss of homeschool freedom became just as troubling. Families who had the flexibility to travel, educate on the road, and structure their education around their individual needs were suddenly subject to district attendance policies. Only three excused absences were allowed before a medical excuse was required. Staff were forced to either comply with these policies or lie to accommodate the family. 

What I had hoped would support homeschool families was increasingly operating like a public school, with parents having less freedom and less authority over their own children’s homeschooling. This experience taught me that choosing a homeschool program is about far more than academics. It is about integrity, transparency, honesty, and genuine care for children and families. 

Parents should be able to see what is happening in the classrooms and feel confident that nothing is being hidden from them. If a program does not allow parents to truly “drop in” and observe a class, I would encourage them to think carefully before enrolling.  

After experiencing the public school system from the inside, I now have a perspective that I believe every homeschool parent should consider. I can say with confidence that parents do not always see the policies, agendas, or behind-the-scenes decisions that shape a district-run program. My advice to them is: Ask questions. Observe. Look beyond the academics. And make sure the program truly aligns with the freedom, integrity, and values you want for your family.