Every year when the CHAP homeschool convention rolls around, I become a little nostalgic. I’ve been attending this convention since I was a child, walking the halls, carrying tote bags stuffed with catalogs, sitting in sessions that felt very “grown up,” and watching my mom take pages and pages of notes. At the time, I didn’t fully understand everything she was writing down. Now I smile when I fill my own notebook, realizing that all those years ago she was doing exactly what I do today—gathering wisdom, encouragement, and confidence for the journey ahead.
During my teen years I helped a friend at her parents’ vendor booth, selling educational toys. I felt very official, standing behind the table, straightening displays, talking to moms about puzzles and hands-on learning. I remember watching the way families lit up when they found something that fit their child perfectly. Even then, I could see that this wasn’t just about “stuff”; it was about tools to help parents trying to do their very best.
One of the most surreal parts of growing up attending the convention was actually meeting people I had looked up to. I remember the first time I saw Ron and Shelly Hamilton — Patch the Pirate and Sissy Seagull! Their adventures were part of my childhood soundtrack. Seeing the real people behind something that shaped so many families was unforgettable. At the convention, I’ve also heard Rick Green from Patriot Academy speak with conviction about civics and freedom. William Federer was unbelievably knowledgeable and wise, personally helping me choose materials for my children. Mike Farris had a huge influence on my parents’ homeschooling journey, so I was a bit starstruck when I saw him in person. And I’ll never forget how genuinely kind and approachable Heidi St. John and Jeannie Fulbright were. These aren’t just names on book covers; they are real people who desire to invest in families like ours.
The speakers are always a highlight for me. Since I was a teenager, I have benefited from their wisdom as they shared about raising confident kids, homeschooling through high school, navigating the hard seasons, building strong family relationships, and intentionally cultivating a Christ-centered home. Some of the sessions are practical (transcripts, transcripts, transcripts when you’re thinking about high school!) Some are encouraging, reminding you that character matters more than checklists. All of them, in some way, help sharpen your vision.
Now, as a mom, those same kinds of sessions affect me differently. I’m not just listening out of curiosity; I’m listening and taking notes with intention, considering my own children and their individual strengths, struggles, and futures.
Interacting with the curriculum vendors has always been motivating for me. When I stop and really hear the heart behind a curriculum—why it was created, what problem it was trying to solve, the passion the author has for families—it reminds me that homeschooling is not random, it’s purposeful. It’s designed by people who care about children and about truth.
There is nothing like flipping through curriculum in person, comparing options side by side, asking questions face-to-face. It saves me from so many late-night research spirals. I love being able to hold it in my hands and picture it in our homeschool before committing.
Homeschooling can be beautiful and life-giving … yet also isolating. It can feel countercultural. It can feel like you’re constantly explaining your choices. But at convention, you don’t have to explain anything. You’re surrounded by like-minded families who care about their children, their faith, and their freedom to educate intentionally.
You can strike up a conversation with strangers in line for coffee and end up swapping curriculum ideas, high school advice, or laughing about how many library books are currently living in your car. Some years I’ve gone with friends and made it a girls’ getaway—coffee, notebooks, conversations in the lobby about what kind of families we want to build. Other years, I’ve made it a date with my husband, attending sessions together and grabbing dinner afterward to talk through what we learned. It’s rare to have built-in time to talk intentionally about your children’s future together, and the convention naturally offers that.
Every year, somewhere between the sessions, conversations, and perusing curriculum, I’m reminded why we chose this path in the first place. I leave encouraged, refreshed, and excited to go home to continue the work God has called me to do.
If you’ve never been, let this be your nudge.
If you’ve been before but skipped a year, come back.
If you’re feeling tired or unsure, come get refreshed.
This convention isn’t just about buying books.
It’s about community, and vision, and strengthening our families spiritually.
It’s about being reminded that you’re not alone in this calling.
For me, it’s a tradition that shaped my childhood, and now shapes how I’m raising my own children. From walking the convention halls beside my mom, to meeting people who influenced my family’s journey, to now sitting in sessions as a mother myself with a notebook full of plans, the convention has been part of my story for a long time. Every year I leave grateful that I came and encouraged for the journey ahead. I hope I’ll see you there this year.


