Getting Sticky With: Stella Simona

Words by AnaMaria Glavan

Photos by Kanya Iwana

Stella Simona once thought she would have 50 kids: she daydreamed of a crowded home filled with noise. But becoming a parent made her realize the intentional attention that each child requires, and she now feels that two, possibly three, is the ideal number for her family. Her oldest, Noah, is nine; Liam is five. 

“Intention” is perhaps the most important word in Stella’s parent vernacular. Coupled with a career that exposed her to less traditional education systems, that intentionality led Stella’s decision to homeschool: a path for fostering her kids' autonomy, encouraging socialization, sparking their appetite for learning. 

Another key piece of Stella’s parenting is her South Asian upbringing. As a first-generation Bangladeshi American and the eldest daughter, she’s come to appreciate the core tenets she was raised with—particularly, community—while recognizing her own parents' flaws in the process. As she puts it, “This applies to all children of immigrants—the first child deals with the mess of parents assimilating.”

Un-learning the “career first” mantra 

I always saw myself having kids. When I was younger, I thought having 50 would be fun because I loved the idea of a loud house and I only had one sibling. That changed once I had kids and I realized how much attention they need, so I think we’ll cap it at three… if we even have another. The only reason we entertain it is wondering, what would it be like to have a girl? Knowing my luck, I’d end up with another boy.

Instead of waiting for X, Y, and Z to align before having kids, I see it the other way around in that you make time work for you. Being South Asian, you quickly learn you have to work first and play later, with the idea that “later” would pay off. But having kids taught me that later happens when you choose it. I always had benchmarks for my career and pushed off family planning, marriage, and personal milestones. I’ve learned balance—between myself, my kids, my husband, and my career. Then I realized they all have to coexist; it’s not career first, then the rest.

Montessori beyond kindergarten 

My mom was a teacher and would teach us the year ahead for the entire summer. And then we'd get to class, and my sister and I knew what to fill out on the test because we studied it all freaking summer. My mom would say If I wasn't so hesitant about teaching you all the way until grade 12, I would have just been your teacher and homeschooled you guys. And once a month, homeschooled students in my area would come and have class with us, so that line always really stuck with me. 

My husband and I worked at Sony and Interscope for a while doing development with different artists that were signed to the record labels. And while we were doing that, the artists that were younger had no option but to homeschool. And that's when we realized there were so many people homeschooling, and we noticed those children were very confident and able to speak to anyone. That gave us the extra motivation to try homeschooling out. 

We don't know exactly what they'll do, but we see our children’s interests and help deepen them while they're still peaking. For example, Noah’s obsessed with agriculture, gardening, and science, so we have discussions about what you can do with that in the future—herbalists, hydroponic farms—just to open his mind. I want them to see endless possibilities, like Montessori learning that doesn’t stop at kindergarten.

Homeschooling = autonomy 

Let's say that Noah is infatuated with all things art and science—we'll do a whole lesson or a season where he's doing pottery mixed with science or math. It overlaps with other subjects. But his level of pottery, for example, can now match up with adults who have been doing it for a while. If he was in a traditional school, he wouldn’t be able to deep dive into something like that. He'd have to wait until he got to high school and he's mostly focused on economics and maybe pottery becomes an extracurricular. Homeschooling allows them to explore things that they're curious about right when they're curious about it. 

There's this idea that homeschooling prevents them from understanding structure, but I wouldn't say that’s true. They’re really quickly learning autonomy. We try to encourage them to get up and do their routine in the morning and sit down by themselves to start their work. They might know they have the entire day to do their tasks, but we positively encourage them to know that if they get their tasks done by a certain time, their whole day will be free to do X, Y, and Z. So they start to realize the freedoms they can access through being more responsible.

Socializing is another big one. People think homeschool kids can't socialize. But in my opinion, one kid should not be with a large group of kids only their age. There's tons of studies that when you put a bunch of three-year-olds together, you actually are holding them back. For example: when you get a new puppy, the recommendation is to let them hang out with the older, better tempered dogs so they pick up on the habits. And I’m not comparing children to dogs, but that's kind of what a group setting does. We seek out hybrid settings where it's a mixed age group and the older kids are helping the younger kids and the younger kids are learning from the older kids.

When you sign up for homeschooling, there are many resources available. You can create your own curriculum or go through the LA charter system, which provides a structured template with academic thresholds. A designated charter representative checks in monthly and administers tests to ensure compliance. Charter systems also provide funding (up to $3,000 per quarter) to go towards books, teachers, and extracurriculars like soccer or sewing.

Noah actually did a nature camp through a homeschool program where he learned how to make fires and find wild blueberries and stuff like that. We’ve met a lot of other parents who are homeschooling their children through these extracurriculars, and there's so many studies on how kids should not be locked up in a room that has no light all day. So why would they? 

Listen, a trip to Legoland is enticing 

Liam totally played me the whole first year. He slept in my bed and Caleb was like, Let's put him in the crib. We tried so many times. My boob was his pacifier and he never took a bottle. He would sleep on my arm; and if I moved my arm a little bit, he'd spend the whole night crying. I had so many dreams where I was choking in my sleep, and that was because I was actually choking in real life since Liam was essentially sleeping on my neck. 

And then when he hit a year and he started teething. I stopped breastfeeding him and got him a really pretty bunk bed and set up his room like a big boy room cuz he never liked the crib. He was really excited about his bed and I was like, Great, cuz that's where you're going to be sleeping. There's no mommy and daddy's room anymore. It's just your big boy room. And he was sad about it, but we committed to what we said. It's a little bit of a harsh boundary.

Now I make it a point, no matter where we live, to always just set up their room first and make it really cozy. And then they have sweet dreams and all that other good stuff. But lately, it never stops. Noah has been paranoid about the dark so he wakes us up every night now, but we’re learning to adjust. 

Liam just finished potty training. I would make a potty chart and every time they peed, we put a sticker on it; I found a template on Pinterest for it. And when they'd get to every third sticker, they’d get a lollipop or an ice cream. And then at the end of it, once they've gotten 50 stickers, they would go somewhere fun. I took Noah to Legoland. 

Building a meaningful community  

You're receiving knowledge that seems to come out of nowhere, but each child opens your mind even more. I recently realized that because our childhood was so intense, I need space to process. Every time your child does something that triggers or stresses you, it's usually tied to something unresolved from your own childhood—whether with your parents or someone else.

Our childhood was intense—we had strict South Asian parents and were each parented differently. Every child faces unique challenges growing up in a South Asian household. For example, my dad expects my sister to drop everything for him simply because she’s younger and doesn’t have children. In many of our families, that’s just how it works. More broadly, this dynamic applies to many children of immigrants. The firstborn often navigates the complexities of their parents’ assimilation—watching them initially exist solely within their culture, then gradually adapt and expand their circles. Because of that, each child grows up in a different version of the same home.

During those years, parents are also building careers and establishing their lives, often stretched too thin to be fully present. I wasn’t really raised by my parents—my grandmother raised me. I even called her “Mom” for years without realizing it. It wasn’t until I had kids of my own that I truly reflected on it, remembering that she was the one who took care of me for the first eight years of my life. My mom was there, but she never really took the time to understand me—and I’ve come to accept that.

Maybe that’s why I’ve found myself drawn to more South Asian friends, especially other mothers, as I continue to explore my culture. Traditionally, raising a child was a communal effort—women in the village supported one another, creating an unspoken network of care. But moving abroad shifts that dynamic. My mom tried to recreate that sense of community, but it felt disjointed. Maybe she wanted to bond with me more but was too overwhelmed, too exhausted, or struggling with postpartum in ways I never fully saw.

Looking back, my early school years lacked representation, and that absence made me realize just how much confidence comes from feeling understood and finding others with shared experiences. It’s not just about being around people who look like us, but about connecting with those who feel like "home"—whether through familiar foods, traditions, or cultural touchpoints.

We attended a private school where the majority of students were white, with very few minorities. When I became a mother, I felt an even deeper need to build a South Asian community for my kids—a space where they could feel rooted in their culture, where their questions would be met with understanding. Even if they don’t always see that representation at school, I want it to be a natural and ever-present part of their lives.

“They need that intentional support”  

Kids don’t just thrive on their own with a bunch of other kids all day; they need guidance. If an adult is fully present with them, listening to their cues, they fuss less and they start communicating more and they're able to become little adults. Getting them to that point makes so much sense to me, but it’s a challenge. Society isn’t set up that way unfortunately. Even if you know kids need that to thrive, you either have to make sacrifices or accept that you can’t always provide it.

And it doesn’t have to be parents. It can be nannies, grandparents, anyone who’s consistently present. I’m sure you know people who were raised entirely by their nannies. I remember a nanny at a private school who had been with a child since infancy and noticed signs of bullying before the mom did. That kind of constant presence matters.

Some parents check out once their kids can dress and feed and use the potty without help, but that’s when kids start to struggle… when no one is truly tuned into them. Just like adults need someone to talk to, kids need even more practice processing their experiences. They need that intentional support. It goes back to the village mantra. 

Traveling with children: it can be done 

It's so sad that we never got to see the other sides of our parents, to have fun experiences and memories with them through things like travel. You know what I mean? Even if it was a simple thing that required no money, like driving to Santa Barbara and going for a walk, we barely did things like that.

I didn’t really travel before having kids. I always wanted to, but I think my parents dimmed that in me, too. I trained myself to be like them without realizing it, especially having been the older daughter. So, after having kids, I thought, You know what? I haven't traveled that much, and if I don't do it now, I won’t do it ever. So, we're going to all travel now, and we're going to do it together, and we're just going to do it as much as we want. And to this day, my child remembers the little memories that he made in Costa Rica when he was two-years-old.

Traveling with kids is so easy once you get over the threshold. You just have to be sensitive to how kids are at each age. So, if you're doing your first trip with any kids, don't pick a place that's too busy or overstimulating. 

Building a village, human by human  

I was one of the first of the people I knew that had kids, which made it even trickier. And I didn't have funds to bounce off of. But as I leaned into motherhood and made more friends with the type of mothers I'd want to be influenced by, I started feeling more comfortable. The same happened for Caleb. It's a lot of trial and error and it sucks to say that, but that's the honest truth. Sometimes it literally takes just watching how somebody else does something to learn how you should be doing it. 

Honestly, I got really lucky. I turned to my older mom friends that have been mom-ing super successfully. Finding your mom crew is key. You want to be around families whose habits and values you admire and let those good habits rub off on you.