There are moments in parenting that stop you in your tracks—not because of a tantrum or a milestone, but because you suddenly realize: the world my kids will inherit looks nothing like the one I grew up in.

That realization hit me like a wave the other day.

I was thinking about how to shape our worldschooling journey—how to teach my three boys (currently 9, 5, and 3) while we explore Latin America. I started jotting down lesson ideas: geography, math, writing, maybe some basic science experiments with local ingredients. You know, the classics.

But then a much bigger question surfaced:
What kind of future am I even preparing them for?

The World Is Shifting—Fast

The speed at which artificial intelligence is evolving is unlike anything humanity has ever experienced. We are witnessing the rise of tools that can write essays, diagnose diseases, compose music, and even simulate deep emotional conversations—tools that will soon be embedded in nearly every part of life.

And the craziest part? We’re still in the early stages.

By the time my boys are entering adulthood, it’s entirely possible that many of today’s careers will be gone—or completely transformed. Uber drivers, cashiers, even therapists and teachers as we know them? Many of these roles may no longer exist in the same way.

So I’ve started asking different questions:
Not just how do I homeschool them while traveling—but rather,
how do I raise resilient, adaptable, emotionally intelligent humans who are ready to thrive in a world dominated by AI?

The Old Model Won’t Cut It

Let’s be honest: traditional schooling was designed for an industrial economy. Memorize facts. Follow rules. Get good grades. Fit the mold. That model made sense when the world needed factory workers, accountants, and people who could sit in cubicles from 9 to 5.

But my boys won’t be growing up in that world.

They’re going to live in a world of automation, algorithms, digital ecosystems, and rapid transformation. So the skills they’ll need aren’t necessarily about regurgitating information. They’ll need to be:

• Curious learners who know how to learn, unlearn, and re-learn
• Creative thinkers who can imagine solutions no machine has thought of yet
• Emotionally attuned humans who can build relationships, navigate change, and lead with empathy
• Tech-savvy explorers who aren’t afraid of AI but know how to use it with purpose

What Does That Mean for Our Journey?

It means our worldschooling isn’t just about visiting ruins, learning Spanish, or doing math worksheets in our Airbnb (though those things are part of it). It’s about building the kind of mindsets that matter most in an unpredictable world:

• Problem-solving on the road when plans fall through
• Building resilience when things feel hard, uncomfortable, or uncertain
• Learning how to observe and ask questions—whether in a museum or a market
• Using AI tools as co-pilots in their learning—not replacements for it, but accelerators of it

It also means giving them time and space to figure out who they are, what lights them up, and what kind of mark they want to make in the world.

I Don’t Have All the Answers (But That’s Okay)

The truth is, I don’t know what jobs will be around in 20 years. None of us do.

But I do know this: the world doesn’t need more perfect test-takers. It needs whole, awake, empowered humans.

So as we roll forward on this journey, I’m letting go of the pressure to recreate a classroom. I’m not here to prepare my boys for a test—they’re not being trained to survive a system. They’re being raised to navigate life.

And that means our classroom is the world. Our curriculum is curiosity.
And our guiding question is: what kind of humans do we want to become in the age of AI?