Christian classical education (CCE). Telos. Paideia. I cannot remember where I first heard each of these terms, but over the past five to seven years they have become a defining part of my life.

My earliest experience with formal education was in a private Christian school, which I attended from kindergarten through second grade. The following year I moved to public school and found myself ahead of my peers who were just beginning to learn cursive, multiplication, and division.

In my younger years I was top of class and a favorite of my teachers. In fourth grade I distinctly remember having a voracious appetite for achievement, completing the day’s work before lunch and asking the teacher for more…until she told me to stop working ahead.

At some point around fifth or sixth grade, I lost the drive. I still made mostly A’s and a couple B’s but rather than being the teacher's pet, I became a class clown. I believe I was still liked by teachers, but rather than focusing my efforts on achieving, I focused instead on witty remarks and subverting their efforts to teach by feigning ignorance. This continued throughout college.

Fast forward a few years to say, 2017. My wife and I had two children at the time, the oldest of which was approaching school age. I don’t recall ever considering their education up to that point. One day I overheard two co-workers discussing a book that one of them was reading, “The Vanishing American Adult” by Ben Sasse, and the idea of building a “personal cannon” of books—largely based on those inherited through the Western Tradition—that you wish to pass down to your children.

I bought the audiobook version, and for several years, this was one of the most influential books in my life. While visiting a college roommate, I told him about the book and he pointed me to “The Core” by Leigh Bortins, the founder of Classical Conversations. After listening to it, I was sold on the idea of Christian classical education.

I remember very little about those books now (I don’t recall if “The Vanishing American Adult” mentions CCE at all), but I credit them both with leading me to CCE. When our oldest daughter was five we joined Classical Conversations, and have been a part ever since.

In 2019 the same friend who had recommended “The Core,” recommended James K. A. Smith’s book “You Are What You Love.” I don’t know whether this book ever used the word paideia, but it is where I was first introduced to the concept of training our affections. Whether I stole the phrase from Smith or it’s my own summation of his work, I can frequently be found saying “Nothing is neutral. Everything you do is either drawing you closer to, or farther from, Christ.” That’s paideia. This idea has been the basis for the books we put in front of our children, the lack of a television in our home (or tablets in children's hands), and the way we approach family discipleship.

In January 2025 I was laid off from my job in tech. After spending 10 years as a software engineer, I decided it was time for a change. A friend offered me a job as a teacher in a Christian classical school which she had started that was going into its second year. I now teach 3rd & 4th grade in a single classroom. I am the only full-time teacher who has any prior knowledge of Christian classical education.

While I thought that I had a decent understanding going in, I’ve found CCE to be an ocean with depths that cannot be plumbed. In “A Short History of Classical Christian Education’s Recovery”, found in the front of “The Liberal Arts Tradition”, David Goodwin speaks of "generations" of ACCS schools. I see my personal journey in a similar light.

For much of the past 5 years, through our experience with Classical Conversations, I have been part of the first generation, focused on the Trivium.

At some point I moved into the second generation and started collecting "great books"—I now own the Harvard Classics and The Great Books of the Western World—and for as long as I can remember I have naturally ”integrated" subjects whenever an opportunity presented itself.

Since taking the job as a teacher, I’ve found myself quickly growing into the mindset of the third and fourth generation schools—primarily through my discovery of CiRCE and Classical Academic Press—with a focus on wonder, cultivating wisdom & virtue, and developing rightly ordered loves—ordo amoris—towards that which is good, true, & beautiful.

The more that I have learned about Christian classical education, the more I love it. The only way I can describe it is the feeling of going “further up, further in.”

As I said above, I consider nothing neutral, and try to be intentional when making decisions. Often though, decisions will have second or third level effects which I had not anticipated. A recent example was me deciding to have a physical dictionary in my classroom—specifically Webster’s American Dictionary of the English Language from 1828. Any time a student would ask me what a word meant, I would start to give an answer from the top of my head, but then catch myself and say “Let’s see how close I was.” as I went to look it up in the dictionary.

On one particular occasion, a student asked “Mr. Odell, why do you always look up the word in the dictionary, instead of just Googling it.” I responded “Let’s do an experiment. Each of you tell me what you think the word education means. We’ll then compare your definitions with the dictionary, and with Google. We found that even our best attempts were insufficient.

This experience solidified for me the importance not only of education, but also of a proper understanding of what education is and a proper pedagogy to go along with it.

Socrates speaks of having a divine sign that tells him when not to do something—as Christians we’d call that the Holy Spirit. I’ve also heard David Goodwin speak of a classical school administrator needing to have a natural intuition about whether something belongs in classical Christian education. I believe the example he gave was walking into a school and immediately noticing school pride banners (e.g. “Go Knights!”) being out of place. Both examples resonate with me. As I read and listen to podcasts about CCE, or discuss school matters with fellow teachers, I will often have a visceral reaction and feel very firmly whether what’s being suggested “fits” within a CCE model. This is not always the case—sometimes I truly don’t know the right answer—but more often than not, I am whole-heartedly for or against an idea.

One area which I know that I am lacking in is in understanding how to put all of the theory into practice. Whether it is teaching math in a mixed-age classroom, throwing out modern grading systems for more classical assessment methods, or understanding classroom management—what do you do with a child who just won’t stop talking, or a child who won’t do his or her work—these are areas in which I know I need help; I know I need community; I know I need mentorship.

The chief end (telos) of man is to glorify God, and to enjoy Him forever. My wife is a stay-at-home mom, and I’ve often said that in light of eternity there is no job more impactful than giving birth to and raising immortal souls. We as parents are to shape the paideia of our children (Deuteronomy 6; Deuteronomy 11; Ephesians 6:4) toward the proper end. Those of us who have been delegated the responsibility of educating others’ children in loco parentis feel much of that same weight. There is only one job in scripture that comes with a warning, and that’s the job of teaching. We cannot do this alone. We need community. We need mentors.

This was originally written as an autobiographical essay to submit along with my application to the CiRCE Institute's Apprenticeship program.