Research by the National Microschooling Center surveyed founders of microschools that closed about the reasons for their closing. Learning from these founders offers essential insights into the sustainability and long-term health of the microschooling movement.
When asked why they closed, seven key trends emerged, several founders cited more than one.
The most frequently reported reason (43 percent) was personal circumstances. Most of these related to personal health, either their own or a close family member’s, while others mentioned moving out of state or accepting new career opportunities.
Financial strain was the next most commonly-cited reason for closing, reported by 29 percent of founders. Low enrollment (18 percent) and differences with parents (also 18 percent) were additional recurring challenges.
A smaller but significant share (11 percent) reported delays or lack of access to state school choice funds, which ultimately made continued operation unsustainable. Finally, staffing shortages (1 percent) and regulatory pushback (1 percent) were rare but notable contributors.
When microschools close, it’s easy to view those closures as signs of fragility. But in truth, they reveal something deeper about what this movement values most: human connection, adaptability, and impact that endures beyond the classroom walls.
The goal of scale in microschooling isn’t to turn small schools into big ones, it’s to help more founders start up, thrive, and serve their communities in meaningful ways. Growth happens through this many-flowers-bloom movement by creating new opportunities. A healthy microschooling ecosystem is one where ideas, models, and leaders are constantly regenerating, not one where permanence is the measure of success.
When talking with founders who have closed their microschools, one of the first things they express is care for their families and students. Many personally help families find new learning options, even joining them on tours or connecting them with other founders. Their leadership doesn’t end when their microschool does, it transforms into mentorship, advocacy, and continued contribution to the community.
And these relationships last far beyond the school’s lifespan. Former founders remain mentors in students’ lives. Friendships formed in since-closed microschools continue to strengthen communities long after the doors close. The bonds built with students and industry professionals often expand those students’ social capital, opening new opportunities well into their futures.
While closures are a natural part of the microschooling lifecycle, we also have a responsibility to support those who want to stay open. That means tackling the structural challenges founders face: offering training like the Center’s Sustainability Cohort created with Lisa McClanahan from WendWorks, modernizing regulatory frameworks (take a look here for some ideas) to better reflect the size and scope of microschools, and helping lenders and funders understand that microschools operate differently than traditional small businesses. The work ahead is not about eliminating closures, it’s about ensuring that those who wish to continue have the systems, support, and understanding they need to thrive.
Microschools were never designed to be static institutions meant to last decades like traditional, multi-million-dollar schools. Their strength lies in their agility: their ability to form, evolve, and, when the time is right, close with integrity. Closure doesn’t erase their impact; it deepens it. Each one leaves behind relationships, inspiration, and new seeds of possibility that keep the movement alive and growing.
Microschools may close, but their impact keeps multiplying.