“Does it make you sad that your kids won’t be able to go to college?” my mother-in-law asked as we nibbled on the delicacies provided for my nephew’s high school graduation party.

I nearly choked on my cookie.

“Um…what do you mean?” I spluttered, sure I must have misheard.

“Well, you know, since they’re homeschooled. Do you ever feel a little bit sad that they won’t be able to get into college?”

Nope. I hadn’t misheard.

My mother-in-law, bless her, had been trying to come to terms with our very unconventional approach to education since we had begun it ten years earlier. But she still had her moments of doubt. This was clearly one of them.

I could hardly blame her. I, too, had occasional moments of sheer panic about how this whole unschooling thing would turn out. Sure, I had done a lot of research, and sure, so far things seemed to be working out just fine, but sometimes that failed to reassure me. After all, I was basically gambling my children’s future on the belief that self-directed education would actually work the way it was supposed to.

And of course the setting had a lot to do with it. My nephew, the youngest of three, was heading off to a good college come fall, as had his siblings before him. Their educational path had been wildly different from ours, involving multiple upscale private schools. I could see how, comparatively speaking, it might not bode well for my four home-grown kiddos.

I assured my mother-in-law that many, many unschooled children went to college, if they chose to do so, and did just fine once there. But I could tell that she hoped, rather than believed, this would be the case. The proof, I knew, would be in the pudding, so to speak.

Fast forward four years.

After finishing an entirely self-directed high school education (which he formalized by partnering with Clonlara School), my son used his COVID-induced gap year to work and apply to colleges. To be honest, he really had no idea what to expect, never having had the experience, for better or for worse, of comparing himself to his peers. After consulting with a college advisor, he selected several schools, sent in his applications, and anxiously awaited the results.

Soon enough, those results started rolling in.

College #1 accepted him.

College #2 accepted him and awarded him a President’s scholarship for the maximum amount. He also was invited to join the honors program.

College #3 accepted him and awarded him two merit-based scholarships totaling $31,000.00 a year.

College #4 accepted him and awarded him their highest scholarship, reserved for students who “demonstrate academic excellence across disciplines and have the potential to make contributions to the…community, in and out of the classroom.” To the tune of $35,000.00.

Do all unschooled children go to college? Certainly not – usually because they choose to pursue something else more meaningful to them.

Can an unschooled child get into college?

You bet.