Why I Get Sick Selling A Curriculum To Homeschool Parents

I am the creator of a girl empowerment business. We created curriculum kits that use the stories of notable women in history to teach girls about their worth and potential. I am the writer and researcher, and B, my business partner (and one of my favorite guy feminists), is the creative and marketing guru.

We work well together. When there is a disagreement, we listen, find common ground and solve problems together. Sometimes finding a solution feels impossible. Sometimes the solution turns out perfect.

Before the pandemic, we partnered with schools to deliver our curriculum. When the shutdown occurred, we lost those partnerships, but we found the homeschool crowd. This community accepted us wholeheartedly.

For the past three years, we’ve traveled to more than 20 homeschool conferences. Our company has a lot of supportive and excited customers. We even get return customers whom we love reconnecting with at these events.

However, there is a faction that prickles at our presence. B and I try to brush it off, but even the smallest splinter, when not addressed, can cause an infection.

A mom enters our booth in the exhibitor hall in Missouri. “OK, my daughter loves Harriet Tubman. Tell me what you got!” she says.

I explain our product, how we use historical women to teach girls about their worth and potential. The mother says: “But is it woke? I mean, I don’t want to teach my daughter about woke.”

I look around at our curriculum kits. They are all women who fought for equality. I think to myself, Hell yes, it’s woke. The irony is lost on this potential customer.

I pause and take a different approach.

In my head, I hear Inigo Montoya from “The Princess Bride”: You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.

I understand what she thinks she is asking. She doesn’t want anything liberal, progressive, or written by “snowflakes.” But does she know that “woke” is not a bad thing?

“What do you mean, ‘woke’?” I ask.

She opens her mouth. Half-words and phrases stumble and tumble around. A few talking points from news sources fall out. Finally, she sighs. “I don’t know. Just tell me again what you write.”

In Ohio, a mom breezes into our booth.

“Oh my goodness, I love this. I am going to have to buy this for my girl!” she tells me. “I do have one question, though ― do you teach feminism? I mean, I believe in equality, but I am not a feminist, and I don’t want to teach it to my daughter.”

I take the…