Niven Singh lives in Portland, Oregon, where she and her husband are educating their daughter at home. She also works full time as Head of Ecosystem Marketing at Atlassian and writes heyniven, a modern parenting and education publication for families looking to create a richer, more intentional learning life. We asked Niven to expand on her approach to education - and on why she has stopped calling what her family does “homeschooling.”


A friend asked me recently what I teach my daughter and how we decided what she’d learn this year. It’s a great question, and I get it often. When your child attends a traditional school, public or private, you don’t spend much time thinking about those decisions. Someone else has already made them.
But every time someone asks, I find myself pausing for a second. It’s not because I don’t know the answer. It’s because teaching isn’t actually the biggest part of my job.
Yes, I teach Singapore Math when a new concept is difficult and frustration is high. We work through problems together. I explain, encourage, and occasionally erase a page so we can start over. That’s teaching, and I value that time with my child.
If you looked at how I actually spend my time, teaching would probably be the smallest part of it. Most of my energy goes into deciding what she should learn next, who should teach it, whether she’s ready to move on, and when it’s worth slowing down.
Last week, I spent nearly an hour researching science resources before settling on a simple framework. My daughter will remember talking about volcanoes over breakfast, watching a few YouTube videos, laughing through a movie with an unforgettable eruption scene, and standing at the edge of Mount St. Helens a few days later. She’ll probably never know how many hours I spent deciding that was the right path. She only experiences the learning. I carry the work of designing her exposure to science.
Some days I’m her teacher.
Every day, I’m the curator of her education.
It sounds like a subtle distinction until you’re responsible for making those decisions yourself. Then you realize they’re completely different jobs. It’s also why I’ve stopped thinking of what we do as simply “homeschooling.”
We didn’t choose to educate at home because I wanted to teach. We chose it because I wanted the freedom to design and personalize education around my child.
What curation actually looks like
People often imagine homeschooling as parents standing at a whiteboard delivering lessons in their kitchen or kids’ playroom. That’s the visible part.
The invisible part is everything that comes before it.
The volcano lesson is a good example because it looks effortless from the outside. What my daughter never sees are the dozens of decisions behind it. Over the past year alone I’ve also had to decide whether she was ready to move from Singapore Math 1B into 2A, whether to outsource phonics and reading to a tutor, which co-op best fits her and aligns with our values, and how to build our literature studies around great books instead of a boxed curriculum.
We read The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, and one chapter turned into conversations about maps, geography, mythology, and courage. Geography comes alive when we’re planning a trip instead of filling out a worksheet. Entrepreneurship happens through pop-up candy stands and local fairs. Media literacy shows up when one of her favorite games interrupts her with another offer to buy gems or unlock a new character, and we stop and ask why. Those moments become conversations, and chances to think critically and debate.
None of those moments were part of a formal curriculum, and none of them were primarily acts of instruction or “teaching.” They were acts of selection - decisions about what fit her, her interests, and how she learns best. That’s really what curation is…
Further reading
Niven works 8-to-5 in tech marketing and her husband works full time. Two years in, neither of them has quit.
Sunny Simkins never took her son out of public school. She rebuilt his education around him anyway.
You are qualified, and the reason has nothing to do with a credential.
Lydia Hampton runs seven different learning models in one Wichita building. Families pick the one that fits.




