Ben Kestner
Thoughts on Education
We need to make space in the school day for students to simply talk
If you want to know what young people really think about politics, social media, school and the state of society, start by reading the report Inside the Mind of a 16-Year-Old by Shuab Gamote and Peter Hyman.
Inside the Mind of A 16 year Old
They travelled across the UK running workshops with 16–18-year-olds to find out what they really think.
There’s no shortage of adults writing about Gen Z, many with valuable insights, but as the authors point out, “Gen Z” can mean anyone aged 15 to 28. That’s a vast range of life experience. It’s refreshing (and overdue) to hear directly from the young people living through 2025 rather than from those observing them from a distance, often through the lens of school systems built decades ago.
The essay is rich and full of insight, and I’m not going to attempt to summarise it here.
Instead, I want to focus on the final chapter:
“Why discussion has been cancelled in schools — and what to do about it.”
Gamote and Hyman open with a powerful statement :
“Schools are closing down space for debate and discussion.”
And they end with a reminder that should make every educator pause for thought:
“School is the one hope we have left of a less polarised world… Government needs to make sure it does not make compliance so oppressive or the exam pressure so overwhelming that no time and space is left for every child to find out who they are and what they believe — and to have robust debates about the complex world in which they live.”
If we want young people to understand democracy, agency, and responsibility then they need more than a lessons they need the experience.
In democratic schools I’ve helped lead, students take part in real elections, run their own meetings, and make decisions that genuinely shape their community. They manage conflict through peer-run justice systems that prioritise restoration over punishment. It isn’t always easy, but it’s authentic, meaningful learning.
Take one example: phones in schools. My last school was no different from anywhere else in that opinions were strong, the topic was messy, and everyone had a view. Instead of rushing to impose a rule, we created a Tech Committee made up of students and staff. We met regularly, shared our concerns, and talked honestly about the reality of social media, online behaviour, and the addictive pull of the digital world.
Through discussion, and lively debate, we co-designed our approach to phones. There was a shared acknowledgement that technology isn’t going away, and because young people were genuinely involved in shaping the policy, the rules evolved into something that felt fair, workable and understood by everyone.
Most importantly, students’ voices weren’t just heard they influenced the final decision.
In the end, it came down to trust. Trust that young people are capable of contributing, shaping culture, and making responsible choices when we give them the space to do it.
You don’t need to transform a school into a fully democratic model to benefit from this thinking. Every school, large, small, state, independent, can create space for structured conversation, debate, and listening. The scale and design will vary, but the principle will stay the same.
To do this, we need courage and creativity in how we use time. At the moment, timetables are crammed, transitions are rushed, and exam pressure dominates the culture. Young people are rarely given time to pause, think, or engage deeply with each other and yet we expect them to emerge as articulate, empathetic, collaborative citizens.
Skills like self-management, social intelligence, listening, negotiation, critical thinking and innovation aren’t learnt by being told about them they’re learnt through practice, through interaction, through conversation. We need to make space in the school day for students to talk not just as add ons which are sometimes squeezed into lessons, but as a core part of their learning. That way young people and staff can sit together, share ideas, disagree, reflect and listen to each other.
Changes like this requires leaders and policymakers willing to step outside the comfort of efficiency and control and work with students, teachers, parents ( the whole comminty ) to make change. If we want young people to speak up in the world, we must first give them space to speak in school.
I have helped schools across different systems rethink how time, culture and communication work, placing student voice and wellbeing at the centre of learning.
If your school is exploring how to create more space for meaningful dialogue and agency, I can help you design a practical way forward that fits your context.
Ben Kestner
Democracy Starts in the Classroom: The Government’s Big Chance to Get It Right
Response to the Curriculum and Assessment Review. Building a world-class curriculum for all – Final Report
Time to Go Further on Democracy in Education
The government have just released the full Curriculum and Assessment Review – Building a world-class curriculum for all. You can find it here.
I got up early yesterday to read the report in full. I’d already heard Bridget Phillipson being interviewed on the BBC and read some of the initial reactions in the media, most of which, as usual, focused on the headline recommendations.
What always frustrates me about education reviews, not just in the UK but worldwide, is that they often snip around the edges of what already exists. There’s rarely any real shift in direction. This report does some of that too. The tone is mostly: “the current curriculum is fine, just a bit cluttered.”
But there are some encouraging winds blowing through it, and if the government are brave enough, they could build those into a genuine change.
Teachers can’t keep doing more with less
From a teacher’s and educators point of view (and I’ve been one for over thirty years), the problem is always time. The school day is already full, workloads are unsustainable, and every “new initiative” lands on top of an already overloaded system.
So when reforms come along, even with good intentions, there’s no room for them to take root unless something else gives way. The report stops short of scrapping GCSEs (which I personally think would be a good idea) but at least it hints that exams could be shorter. That’s something.
We’ve been told for years that we need to prepare children for an unpredictable future where they might have 10 or 20 different jobs. Twenty years ago, it was “the internet” that was going to change everything. Now it’s AI. Yet we’re still stuck with a system built around exams and compliance.
The report says:
“We have sought to ensure the curriculum is fit for the future, addresses the rich knowledge and skills young people need to thrive in our fast-changing world, and encourages a love of learning.”
I agree with that sentence, but after decades of working in and leading schools, I don’t believe we’ve yet found a system that truly delivers it.
Democracy and Civics: where we can go further
On page 7 of the report, the panel rightly says that education plays a crucial role in “promoting social cohesion and democracy.”
They also recommend that Citizenship becomes statutory from Key Stage 1, helping every child learn about democracy, law, and financial literacy from the start. I couldn’t agree more.
But here’s where we need to go further.
Too often, when we talk about democracy in education, we immediately jump to “civics lessons.” We add another subject. Another box to tick. But if we really want young people to understand democracy, they need to live it, not just learn about it.
I’ve seen first-hand how this works. In the democratic schools I’ve helped lead, students take part in real elections, run their own meetings, and make real decisions that affect their community. They also operate justice systems which are student-run committees that use restorative processes rather than punishment. It’s messy at times, yes, but it’s real.
These are the moments when students learn what democracy feels like: compromise, debate, responsibility, and empathy.
So while I welcome the report’s recognition that civic education matters, I want the government to go a step further. I want them to support schools that embed democracy into their daily culture. Class and year-group councils could be a start. Give schools the freedom, time, and trust to make it real.
It feels like we’ve lost the middle ground
It feels like we’ve lost the middle ground in UK politics at the moment. Many people are stuck in their own corner, arguing instead of listening. We’ve stopped looking for what unites us, and that sense of shared purpose that once held things together is disappearing. Children are growing up in a world where adults can’t even agree on what truth looks like, where shouting has replaced listening, and where opinions are treated as enemies rather than ideas to explore.
If democracy is going to mean anything in the next generation, it has to start here in schools. Not just in classrooms, but in corridors, meetings, and every decision we model as adults. I’ve seen what happens when young people are trusted to lead, to listen, and to take responsibility. They surprise us and they restore a kind of hope that’s missing in so much of public life right now.
The Review also links civics to media literacy, climate education, financial literacy, and democratic engagementconnecting these to preparing pupils for a “lowering of the voting age to 16”.
Here’s an article I wrote supporting about this:called ¨ Real Democracy in Schools Why Lowering the Voting Age Must Go Hand in Hand With Change in Education¨ https://substack.com/home/post/p-171918624
Time in the day
Educators I’ve spoken to over and over again ask, “But where’s the time?” The truth is, we need to find time for what we value. If democracy, civics, and community cohesion are seen as optional extras, they’ll always be squeezed out by test prep. If we want to build a society that listens better than it shouts, where young people feel their voice matters, then this is worth the time.
The report has opened the door slightly by mentioning a reduction in exam time. I think we need to push it open properly. This is the moment to act and to design schools that genuinely prepare young people not just for work, but for life together.
Right now, the adults in the system (the population who went through the current version of education) are the very ones struggling to listen to each other. That alone should tell us it’s time for change.
You can also read: An Argumnet for Real Democracy in Schools: https://substack.com/home/post/p-177002415
Ben Kestner
Are you taking the easy road?
This map shows two very different paths a child can take through education.
On the left is the traditional route, familiar, structured, predictable. It’s safe. It moves quickly through a tunnel that’s already been built. The focus is mainly on exams, grades and following the set route to “the end.” There’s little time for self-discovery only performance.
On the right is a different kind of journey. It’s more open, more human. It takes you into the mountains: unknown, sometimes challenging, but full of curiosity, purpose and adventure. This is where children learn to explore, to adapt, to discover what truly matters to them. Setbacks aren’t failures they’re part of the journey.
One road is safe and known.
The other demands courage but builds resilience, passion and a sense of direction.
Which path prepares your child for a world we can’t predict?
Argument for Real Democracy in Schools
Children go from being in a completely top-down system, where adults make every decision, to feeling like they have no real power to change anything when they leave school. So they end up thinking: What’s the point? I’ll just keep my head down, pass the exams, do what I’m told. Nothing in the system shows them that their voice actually matters.
This is one of the strongest arguments for real democracy in schools.
Right now, in wider society, so many people feel shut out of decision-making in politics, workplaces, national decisions. There’s growing division and disconnection everywhere you look.
If schools introduced genuine student voice and trust, not token gestures, but actual shared decision-making, young people would see, through real experience, not a civics lesson, that their voice can lead to actual change.
I’ve seen and recognise that some schools have student councils,and they can work really effectively, but most of the time these have no real power. Students notice that. They always know when it’s symbolic only.
Of course, there are limits. For example, in the UK state school system, you can’t negotiate the national curriculum. Fine. But there are huge areas where real agency is possible like for example aesthetics, behaviour systems, justice processes, budget priorities, community agreements, how time is used, how problems are solved. These are real and meaningful.
Schools could even model different democratic approaches not just copying Westminster but exploring proportional representation, consensus models, different governance structures. The form of democracy itself is a learning conversation.
If young people experience democracy for real, especially now they can vote at 16, they’ll grow up believing they genuinely can change things. Instead of entering adulthood already disillusioned (“my vote doesn’t matter”), they’ll already have lived examples that their voice shapes community. That’s the whole point.
Ben Kestner
Real Democracy in Schools.Why Lowering the Voting Age Must Go Hand in Hand With Change in Education
The UK government’s decision to lower the voting age from 18 to 16 has drawn both praise and concern. People in support argue that young people already contribute to society through work, taxes, and volunteering, and that voting from 16 will encourage lifelong engagement in the democratic process. I’ve heard critics question whether teenagers have the maturity or life experience to vote responsibly some of them pointing out inconsistencies in other legal age thresholds such as drinking or military service. But I think that the more urgent question is this:
‘Are schools preparing young people to understand what democracy really means’
Surveys show that most young people in the UK support democracy, but a sizeable minority (around 20–30%) express openness to “strong leaders” or other non-democratic alternatives. This is not necessarily a rejection of democracy itself; it can reflect a frustration with political systems that feel unresponsive or irrelevant to their daily lives.
At present, the national curriculum in the UK includes Citizenship Education for students aged 11–16, covering democracy, rights, and government. But in practice, the subject is often squeezed for time, delivered inconsistently, or reduced to abstract lessons about Parliament and elections. Student councils exist in many schools, but these bodies rarely show real influence. For many pupils, their only exposure to democracy in school is voting for the prom theme or deciding on a charity fundraiser.
For more than a decade, I have led and helped build democratic schools, where students don’t just learn about democracy, they live it. Every day, governance is shared between staff and students through structures such as:
- Community Meetings, where rules and policies are debated and voted on.
- Peer Justice Committees, where students resolve conflicts and hold one another accountable.
- Elected committees, with responsibility for areas like technology, events, or sustainability.
This kind of democracy is not tidy. It can be slow, frustrating, and emotionally charged. But that is precisely why it is powerful: students learn that democracy is about compromise, persistence, and responsibility not instant gratification. They discover that their voice is not just heard but can really shape the environment they live and learn in. They engage in long discussions and debates.
In democratic schools I have been part of, we went a step further. We built a civics curriculum that connected democratic practice with explicit learning goals, ensuring pupils developed not only the skills to participate but also the language and frameworks to understand what they were doing.
To support this, we used Volantis, an educational platform that allowed us to document and make visible how students were engaging in democratic processes. Instead of abstract essays on “what democracy means,” students could see their own participation in committees, meetings, and votes as part of their learning journey. This integration of daily practice with curriculum created a culture where democracy wasn’t a special event it became the fabric of school life.
Since 16- and 17-year-olds will have the right to vote in the UK, they must leave school with the experience and confidence to use that right meaningfully. Simply teaching the mechanics of elections or running token councils won’t be enough. Young people need to know from an early age that their voice can change things.
We know from democratic schools, which have been refining these models for over a century, that embedding real participation works. Students become more engaged, more responsible, and more resilient. They understand that democracy is hard work, but also that it belongs to them.
The UK now faces a choice. Lowering the voting age can be a symbolic gesture or it can spark a genuine re-imagining of how we prepare young people for civic life. We’ll only make this reform meaningful if schools let young people experience democracy in practice, not just in name.
From my own experience, I know it is possible to integrate these practices into mainstream state education. I have seen schools where students co-govern with staff, where disciplinary issues are resolved through fair process, and where curriculum and daily life reinforce each other. It is not easy, but it is transformative.
As the UK offers the ballot box to 16-year-olds, it is time to open the doors of our schools to real democracy. Not as a subject, not as a sideline, but as the foundation of education itself.
Democracy cannot be taught only through textbooks; it must be practiced, argued over, and lived. If we want young people to believe that their vote matters, we must start by showing them that their voice already does.
Ben Kestner
Self-Directed vs. Tutors?
A vital part of the self-directed approach (SDE) to education the world over is the commitment to fostering a natural, self-guided learning process that allows children to explore their interests and passions at their own pace, free from external pressures and prescribed curricula.
Whilst private tutors are used in many SDE environments from time to time, and sometimes at home for some specialist classes where children prefer to do there, the focus on English and Maths, reflects more the parents concern that if they don’t do this, ‘how will they ever learn?’ or just a worry that ‘my child might get behind’. We know from research and experience that the best way to learn to read and write is naturally, intrinsically, and not forced. Children, in an environment like ours learn to read and write at different ages, sometimes when they’re 5 sometimes when they are 12. The most important thing is that children gain a love for reading and writing and the best way to do that is to let them discover it, not to be forced to do it.
Here are some reasons why tutoring may not be beneficial for your children when they attend a self directed/democratic learning centre or school:
Undermines Trust in Intrinsic Motivation
Self-directed education believes in nurturing a child’s intrinsic motivation to learn. Providing private tutoring at home can send the message that external intervention is necessary for a child’s academic progress, potentially eroding their self-confidence and belief in their own abilities. And it can model that there is a “right way to learn things”, which can cause children to doubt themselves if they approach things in a different way.
Imposes External Structure
SDE prioritizes freedom and autonomy in learning. Private tutoring can impose a structured, adult-led approach to education, which can kill a child’s natural curiosity and desire to learn about the world independently.
Contradicts the Core Self-directed Principle
Most SDE schools operate on the core principle that students are trusted to make decisions about their own learning. Private tutoring can undermine this principle by introducing an authority figure who dictates what and how a child should learn. This is the opposite to an SDE environment.
Risk of Burnout
The combination of Self-directed education and private tutoring can potentially overwhelm a child, leading to burnout or disengagement from the learning process. SDE schools advocate for a balanced, holistic approach to education that respects a child’s well-being.
Limiting Diverse Interest
Democratic communities encourage children to explore a potentially infinite number of interests beyond just Mathematics and English. Private tutoring, which typically focuses on these types of specific subjects, can restrict a child’s exposure to diverse learning opportunities, and hence teaches children that these are not as valued.
Financial Pressure
Having private tutoring can be a big financial commitment for families. Children learn to read and write and do Maths as well as an infinite number of things in SDE environments. Adding to the expense can be hard for some families.
The Self directed/Democratic philosophy of education places great emphasis on trust, autonomy, and self-direction, believing that children have an inherent ability to learn when provided with a supportive environment. Private tutoring may have its merits in certain contexts but can potentially contradict these principles and disrupt the natural flow of learning that we aim to foster. It is really important to carefully consider the alignment of educational choices with the underlying philosophy and values of the approach so as not to confuse your child. They won’t get the benefit of complete trust.
Changing our schools so that we can work alongside Artificial Intelligence
Schools have perpetuated the idea of Artificial Intelligence, long before AI existed.
Artificial Intelligence is becoming increasingly present in our lives from virtual assistants such as Siri and Alexa to predictive algorithms which often guide us through questions when we visit a website. With the onset of language AI models such as Chat GPT, AI can promise positive affects but there are real concerns about its potential impact on society, including the possibility of job displacement, privacy violations and even existential risks.
One reason why the onset of Artificial Intelligence is so unnerving for many people is that the definition of intelligence as perpetuated by an out-of-date schooling system, values the ability to pass exams over focusing on more holistic competencies of human nature. Intelligence is not simply a matter of processing information or performing well on standardized tests, but rather, as Ken Robinson explored, a ‘dynamic and multifaceted construct that is unique to each individual.’ He emphasized the importance of cultivating diverse forms of intelligence and encouraged pupils to pursue their passions and interests, rather than forcing them to conform to a predetermined set of standards and expectations.
Pupils who can do well in current traditional schools in terms of being able to navigate the system and achieve high grades are often described as ‘clever’ or ‘bright’, but intelligence is something different.
A holistic approach to intelligence recognizes the value of several skills and competencies that are essential for success in many aspects of life including communication, emotional intelligence, creativity, critical thinking, problem solving, adaptability and social awareness.
Pupils who are able to be part of a learning community that values self-direction and democracy are better equipped to navigate complex social and technological environments, engage in meaningful relationships, pursue fulfilling careers, and make positive contributions to their communities and society as a whole. A holistic approach to education recognizes that intelligence is not a fixed trait, but rather a set of skills and competencies that can be developed and refined over time through experience and reflection.
When schools adopt a holistic view of intelligence, children can grow to become the masters of AI, rather than just fearing the potential threat. They can harness its power to augment their own intelligence and enhance their ability to solve complex problems, create new knowledge, and improve their lives and the lives of those around them.
It’s time for schools to stop focusing on measuring ‘what’ students need to know and to turn towards providing an environment where they allow them to be and explore ‘who they are’.
AI need not be a threat to humanity. If we focus our education system on a ‘competency based’ approach where we trust children to forge their own unique journeys; where we trust them to take control of their own lives and learning and where we as educators stop the myth that intelligence is the ability to pass tests, then we can gain a deeper understanding of the relationship between AI and human intelligence and work towards alleviating some of the fears surrounding this rapidly evolving technology. We need to continue to evolve as humans along side it. As Ken Robinson so eloquently said:
“Intelligence is diverse, dynamic and distinct. It can’t be reduced to a score on a standardized test. And Education is not a mechanical system; it’s a human system. It’s about people, people who either do want to learn or don’t want to learn”. 1.
©Ben Kestner April 203
- Robinson, K, (2015), Creative schools: The grassroots revolution that’s transforming education. Viking (P.38)
A 17 year Old’s Journey to Discovering Glacier Lake (democratic) School
“#DoItForTheCAS.” The screen of my phone lit up with yet another notification from one of my fellow International Baccalaureate classmates. Our Facebook group was active, now even in summer, and every time I glanced up from the Lego game I was playing with the children I babysat for, it was filled with more questions about homework assignments, funny memes to lessen the stress, and general griping about the long school year to come. CAS, or creativity, action, and service, was one of the most frequently complained about components of the program. Although the intentions of CAS may be well meaning, rewarding students for their work and passions outside of the classroom and encouraging curiosity and reflection in all aspects of one’s life, for me it had become yet another disheartening source of the message I had become conditioned to believe all my life: your success is directly tied to the score you receive for it.
I hadn’t always felt such a startling disillusionment with my formal education. When I was younger report card days were some of my favorite of the year. I hated that the teachers would only give them to you right as you were leaving the classroom to go home, to discourage students from comparing them to each other. I was incredulous. Why shouldn’t the other children know how smart I am? When I discovered that I wouldn’t receive letter grades until third grade, I was infuriated. I wanted bright and shiny As. Making due with a system of checks, check minuses and check pluses was torturous, but I was satisfied that at least I could receive the highest, most prestigious type of check mark in every subject and my math papers and spelling tests would always come back with gold stars.
When I finally hit the third grade, I wrote a report about peacocks. I could not tell you now where they live, the length of their gestation period or any of the other, actual information I learned through the process, but I can remember with all certainty that I got it back with a thick red A in the top right corner. At that point in my life, the validation of an A was enough; I craved good grades and high scores and felt unstoppable when I made them happen. The deepest sense of fulfilment I could achieve was a 100% handed to me by a smiling teacher.
If only that were still enough, I thought, as I lay watching a six year old and a nine year old map out an elaborate Lego land, complete with stores, and characters, and a system of governance. Why, when I could recite the extensive list of my extracurriculars along with a specific description of exactly what college-worthy quality each had instilled in me, did I feel as though I didn’t have any genuine, unique interests? Why, when on paper I could list off all the impressive classes I’d taken and the top grades for each, was I unable to conjure up any of what I had supposedly learned once my tests were graded? Why, when to the external IB graders I had supposedly been entirely successful on my exams, did I feel entirely unaccomplished? Why was a system created in which students learn just enough to ace (or pass) a test, then wipe their brains clear in order to cram them full all over again with the next chapter’s material?
It struck me just as John Green described falling in love and falling asleep: “slowly and then all at once.” There had to be another way. I looked over at the children I was babysitting, as they independently played and explored and learned. What if there were schools where kids were trusted enough to know how and when and what they wanted to learn? I wondered if it could work. I doubted that it existed. I typed into Google on my phone, “education systems where students direct their own learning in a collaborative setting.” Imagine my surprise to find that these schools were both very real and very effective at helping children to reach their full potentials without stifling all passion for learning. These schools existed, entirely as I’d imagined in my mind, places where students of all ages learned in entirely unique ways driven by their own curiosity, passion, imagination, and motivation. And not only did they exist in far off cities, there was one right here in Montana, only about 50 miles from my house, Glacier Lake School.
I poured over all the articles and books I could manage to find about this system of education, the Sudbury Valley model. Once I discovered learning could be driven by passion, I knew I could not squeeze myself back into the narrow mold students are required to fit within a traditional education system. I used to think that I wanted an IB diploma because I wanted a challenge. I thought a challenge would help me to grow. I realize now that what I wanted was the diploma at the end, the bragging rights to list off the scores I got on each exam. It would be another shiny gold star to reassure me of my own self-worth. In reality though, the stifling traditional school environment was not conductive to my growth in any way.
What was the point of success without passion, without curiosity? I didn’t want to do it only for the CAS anymore. I wanted to do it for no reason other than because I was wildly, uncontrollably excited. I don’t think it is selfish or shortsighted or unreasonable or lazy to demand an education that is endlessly riveting. I want to be consumed with curiosity.
I decided not to complete the IB diploma program. I am taking the several required high school courses I have left online and several university courses about topics I am actually genuinely fascinated by. Sitting in a classroom under fluorescent lights for eight hours a day is no longer my education. Life is my education.
Several weeks ago, I got the opportunity to visit Glacier Lake School. It was empowering. A year ago, as junior in high school, I had sat in my advanced math class on the first day of school as we went over the classroom rules. Be in your seat when the bell rings or you’ll be tardy and get detention. Only drink clear liquids unless your cup has a lid. Don’t lean back in your chair in case you lean too far and fall and hurt yourself. The atmosphere at Glacier Lake could not have been more strikingly different. I saw children of all ages climbing trees to pick apples or working with saws to build elaborate contraptions of their own design or playing imaginatively in a treehouse. Most importantly though, I saw children who were excited to learn and happy to be at school.
Nora Gibbons aged 17
Missoula, Montana
Not another new curriculum paradigm!
Many people seem to think that they have come up with the best way of educating children.
For decades, educators have been trying to adapt, change and re-mold the learning experience for our young people.
Many of the schools who boast a new, progressive approach genuinely want what they think is the best for their children. Many are also motivated by the competitive success for the school, and some, by their egos.
I won’t bore you with my background in education, but I’ve been that person. I’ve worked hard, over the last 25 years, on new curriculum approaches and have represented existing so called ‘progressive’ approaches within established systems. Many claim to be ‘child centered’ or ‘Inquiry based’, but in reality, they just manage to snip around the edges of an already broken educational system.
Ask yourself this question:
Does a curriculum paradigm need to teach children what we think they need to know, or should we trust children to follow their own paths?
Traditional schools, even so called ‘progressive’ ones, often focus on the first part of the sentence.
Real learning should focus on the second.
I find myself saying “STOP!” when I hear interviews or read about the latest progressive paradigm. They all talk about how important it is to ‘produce’ intelligent, empowered, purposeful critical thinkers. They talk about how ‘inquiry based learning’ should focus on the interests and ideas of the children – but in reality, they are offering a mostly teacher led – subject led experience.
I hear this comment often;
“You need children to be exposed to certain subjects at school, because otherwise how will they know they exist?”
Forget that for a minute. Just close your eyes for 10 seconds and then open them. What do you see? You see the world around you. Your mind is constantly asking questions about that world. The answer to those questions may lead you to either continue that line of enquiry or leave it, and eventually you will come across something that interests you so much, you want to spend more time on it – as much time as you like.
We need to just trust that children WILL learn. They can’t NOT learn. They need to talk, experience the world around them, meet interesting people, do interesting things, ask questions and feel that personal drive to intrinsic motivation and the joy of learning and the world around them.
What’s the best curriculum paradigm for children? The answer is no curriculum paradigm for children. Their curriculum is their imagination. We as educators need to give them the space and time to discover what they find interesting. Our role as adults is to be there for them, to facilitate their own personal journey and help them create an environment where they feel trusted, connected and in control of their own lives.
Don’t worry that they won’t know ‘stuff’. If you leave them alone, they will not only know ‘stuff’ but what they know will be simply deeper and more meaningful than most of what they are told in a traditional School.
If you find it hard to believe all of this. I simply ask that you talk to someone who has lived a self-directed education life. I’m sure you’ll find them incredibly interesting!
Ben Kestner
July 2022
Ben Kestner 