Andi Almond ’98 Reflects on Worldschooling and Family Travel

Andi Almond smiling for a photo with greenery in the background.
Placeholder author icon
By Hannah Floyd '27

Published April 24, 2025

7 min read

The Book: The Everywhere Classroom (Rowman & Littlefield Publishers) is an inspiring story of Almond’s family adventures as they take on world travel and embrace schooling and learning outside of the traditional classroom. For an entire year, Almond and her family hopped from Antarctica to Taiwan and everywhere in between. She recounts how her family welcomed new experiences and pushed the boundaries of their comfort zones, growing and fostering a global awareness along the way. Each chapter is essentially a story of how families can maximize their travels — from a beach day halfway across the world to a weekend getaway at home — while also offering curriculum tips and strategies for “worldschooling” for trips of any length and budget. The Everywhere Classroom is more than Almond’s travel diary; it inspires other families to explore new opportunities and discover new ways of learning.

Image

The Author: Andi Almond ’98 is a communications leader at McKinsey and Company, author, and former Associated Press journalist. She obtained an undergraduate degree in sociology from Princeton. She shares her family’s adventures on her blog and social media and is passionate about making travel and worldschooling more accessible.

Excerpt:
Excerpt from Finn’s Journal

May 14, 2023 | Taipei, Taiwan 

WEEK 1

I have never lived in a big city before, so being in Taipei — especially on my own — is a totally new experience. There are so many new smells, of cigarettes and drain water and gas exhaust. There are also good smells — sweets and meats, cheeses, noodles, and rice. I’m not used to the noises of the city either, so I haven’t been sleeping well this first week. It is odd being alone without my family, adjusting to my new homestay and Mandarin school. 

My host mom isn’t warm and welcoming. She just puts my breakfasts and dinners on the table, then leaves to do chores. 

My new Mandarin school in Taipei seems good, and I like most of the teachers. I have also made friends, Leo and Julian. And Mom, Dad, and Aria stay to explore the city for a few days while I get settled, which is comforting. 

On Sunday, I am invited by my host mom to go with her to a local church, and I accept because I think it will be a cool experience. In the end, it is awkward because it isn’t a church at all. The service is at one of her friend’s houses where they hold church every week. I am not used to going to church because I am not religious, plus everything is in Chinese, so I don’t understand much that is going on. Even though I have taken two years of Mandarin, I haven’t used it in a while, so it’s rusty. 

Luckily, I made plans with Leo and Julian to go to an arcade and watch a movie later in the afternoon, so I leave “church” a little early. I feel bad about that, but I really am not comfortable here. It just doesn’t seem like the place for me. 

Overall, the high parts of my first week in Taiwan have been meeting my new buddies and getting to explore the city. The low part is realizing that I’m not going to have a host mom who does much with me, so I really am on my own. 

* * *

At the international arrivals terminal in Taipei, a man awaited us, holding up a sign that read, “Finn Almond.” Even though I had been expecting it, the sight hit me like a gut punch. I took a deep breath and hitched on a smile. We waved and headed toward him. 

“Mom, no crying, OK?” said Finn. “I am going to miss you all so much already. If you start crying, I might start with the waterworks too.” 

I raised onto my tip toes to kiss his cheek. “I promise. C’mon, let’s get you set to go.” 

Randy headed to the ATM. “OK, buddy. Here’s some money to get you started. The exchange rate is $30 New Taiwan Dollars (NTD) to $1 USD. I put 3,000 NTD on your debit card — about $100. If you need more, call me. I can add it remotely.” 

He handed a small wad to Finn, who pocketed the cash. “Thanks, Dad.” 

“And here’s your passport. Don’t lose it. We won’t be able to leave in a month if you do.” 

“Got it.” 

“Tomorrow morning, when we meet you at your language school, we’ll bring you a metro card and the spare iPhone loaded with a SIM card. You’ll keep it for the month. Beyond that, I think you’re set for now.” 

“Can I keep the iPhone after my month alone in Taiwan?” 

Randy grinned. “Nice try. We’ll discuss it after we see how this experience goes.” 

“I figured. But it was worth asking.” Finn said. “Thanks, Dad.” 

Randy gave Finn a hug. “FaceTime us once you’ve settled into your homestay, OK?” 

Finn nodded. 

Aria reached into her pack and pulled out a bag of chocolates. “Here, Finny. This is for you. I’ll miss you!” 

“Aw, thanks, Aria. I’ll miss you too. Love you all!” 

Then he turned and walked with his driver into the drizzle of Taipei. He didn’t look back. We watched until we couldn’t see him anymore then turned to gather our bags and head out ourselves. We would be parting ways for the next month as we left Finn in Taiwan to live with a local family and take an immersive Mandarin language course. 

In many ways, this was the culmination of our worldschooling efforts and travel to date. He wasn’t the kid who startled at noises in the medinas of Morocco from the start of our travels. After ten months on the road, our fourteen-year-old could navigate big cities on his own, figure out public transportation systems, and manage local currency conversions with ease. He ate just about anything and could sleep anywhere. He was resilient and able to roll with change. 

I was going to miss him over the next four weeks, but I knew he would be good. He had this. He was ready. 

* * *

When we first started planning Finn and Aria’s worldschooling, we felt confident in our abilities to keep them on track in most subjects. Chinese, though, was another story. Having taken two years of Mandarin at school, Finn wanted to continue. It was his favorite elective and, while he could drop a level as it wasn’t a mandatory subject, he preferred to track his cohort. We knew that this would require intensive lessons beyond what a language app could provide to bridge the year and prepare him for the school’s placement exam. 

Upon arriving in Asia, we initially considered China for Finn’s Mandarin studies but faced visa challenges as Americans. Additional research led us to LTL — Live the Language — school, with locations in mainland China and Taiwan. Taiwan, a sweet-potato shaped island off southeastern China’s coast, presented a compelling choice. It offered Mandarin immersion, a fascinating history, natural beauty, and a safe environment for Finn’s solo stay. 

We corresponded with LTL, arranging for Finn to stay with a local host near New Taipei City. We weren’t particularly encouraged to meet his host family, so we did not, letting him experience that on his own and setting the stage for his month of independence and learning. We did plan to tour the school and meet his teachers the day after arriving. 

After Finn left with his driver, Randy, Aria, and I hopped on the metro to check into our hotel. Our plan was to explore Taipei and surrounding areas for a week while making sure Finn settled in smoothly. Then, we would fly to the Philippines, and we’d reunite a month later. 

“This feels so weird without Finn!” Aria squealed as we settled into our room. It had two queen beds and felt oddly spacious for the three of us. She took a running leap and splayed out like a starfish on one of the beds. “It is nice to get my own bed, though. Finn kicks!” 

That evening, we did a video call with Finn. He showed us his small but functional room in the homestay apartment, located in a suburb of Taipei. It had a bunk, a desk, and a closet. Down the hallway was a communal bathroom. 

“How does your host mom seem?” I asked. “Are there any kids or is it just her?” 

“She seems . . . quiet. She didn’t say much. Just served dinner to me and left. I don’t think she speaks English, and my Chinese is still pretty rubbish. So, I ate alone. I didn’t see kids.” 

“Well, it’s the first night,” I replied, though I felt a knot tighten in my stomach. “Hopefully, it’ll get better. Are there any other boarders?” 

“Not sure.” 

“What’d you have for dinner?” Aria wanted to know. 

Finn flopped on the bottom bunk. “Noodles with fish.” 

“Ugh.” 

“No, it was good. I like fish.” 

“Are you excited for your first day at LTL tomorrow?” I asked. 

“Yeah. A little nervous but also excited.” 

I nodded, but before I could answer, Aria grabbed my phone and superimposed animal faces onto our chat, transforming herself into a rooster. Finn followed suit, giving himself a purple octopus head. The conversation devolved into incoherent cackling, and I left them to it. 

“We’ll see you at LTL at 10 a.m.,” Randy interjected after a while. “Do you know how you’ll get to school?” 

“Not yet,” Finn, the octopus, replied. “I think my host mom might be coming in with me, but I’m not sure. I’ll figure it out. I think it’s thirty minutes by subway.” 

“That sounds right. We’ll see you tomorrow. Love you!” 

“Love you too!” The octopus clicked off, and the screen went blank.

Excerpted from The Everywhere Classroom by Andi Almond. Copyright © 2025 and published by Rowman & Littlefield Publishers. Used with permission of the author.

Reviews:

“Delightful, intriguing, and absolutely captivating. Essential reading for any family looking for inspiration and tips on how to travel meaningfully and embrace a world filled with learning possibilities.” — Eric Weiner, New York Times bestselling author and journalist

0 Responses

Join the conversation

Plain text

Full name and Princeton affiliation (if applicable) are required for all published comments. For more information, view our commenting policy. Responses are limited to 500 words for online and 250 words for print consideration.

Related News

Newsletters.
Get More From PAW In Your Inbox.

Learn More

Title complimentary graphics