Different schools, the same foundation

Last week, I invited a group of Danish clients (teachers, and school leaders) whom I have been working with closely for more than a year and a half, to the Netherlands. The purpose of the visit was simple: to explore learning in practice by visiting three very different schools. We spent time at a great practical education school (children with IQ’s below 80) in Roermond, at Agora (my old secondary school, also in Roermond), and at a regular primary school, De Rietpluim, in Nuenen.

Different ages, different contexts, different educational labels. Yet remarkably, the same qualities surfaced in all three places.

What struck my guests first was the visible joy with which children/students were working. Not the kind of excitement that needs to be manufactured or encouraged, but the quiet, grounded joy of learners who are engaged, focused, and comfortable in what they are doing. Alongside that joy, something else became equally apparent: a strong sense of ownership. Not something abstract or assumed, but something tangible, noticeable in how students spoke, how they moved through the space, and how they responded when spoken to.

As we began to reflect together, one of the first things my Danish colleagues mentioned was how welcome they felt in every school they visited. That sense of welcome went beyond friendly conversations or hospitable staff. It was embedded in the learning environments themselves. The schools immediately gave a strong sense of welcome. They felt like places where people wanted to be, not just places they had to be. Student work was visible. Materials were accessible. There was no sense that learning had to wait for permission, or that everything was hidden away until a teacher decided it was time. The environments invited action. Children could walk in, pick something up, continue where they had left off, or start something new. These were rich learning environments, designed to encourage engagement rather than compliance.

Another shared characteristic quickly emerged. None of the schools relied on extensive lists of rules. Instead, all three worked with what I often describe as mutual expectations. Clear, simple agreements about how we treat one another, how we take responsibility for ourselves, and how our choices affect the people around us. These mutual expectations created something essential: professional space. Space for learners, and space for educators. Learners were trusted to make decisions about how they approached their work, as long as their choices supported their learning and did not negatively impact others. Rather than creating disorder, this space fostered responsibility and clarity.

We also paid close attention to the way adults communicated with learners. Staff were not being instructed in a top-down way. They were given professional space to make their own decisions. And we saw the effect of that immediately in how they interacted with their students. Adults engaged learners in conversation. They asked questions. What are you working on? Why did you choose this approach? How else might you try this? Reflection was not positioned as an add-on or a separate moment; it was woven into everyday interactions. Because reflection was continuously invited, ownership grew naturally. Not because all responsibility was pushed onto the learner, but because learners felt genuinely involved in their own learning processes.

That sense of ownership showed up clearly in the informal conversations we had with students. Sometimes in hallways, sometimes during activitees, sometimes simply while standing next to them as they worked. When my guests asked questions, students did not hesitate. They reflected out loud, explained their thinking, and adjusted their ideas as the conversation unfolded. These were not rehearsed responses, but signs of awareness: an understanding of what they were doing and why it mattered to them.

Spending time in three such different schools was a quiet but powerful reminder. You do not need identical systems to create meaningful learning experiences. What seems to matter far more is the culture that has been built over time. A culture made visible through the learning environment, through mutual expectations that create professional space, and through a shared understanding that learning is not something you do alone.

Across all three schools, learners and educators worked together. In classrooms, in hallways, and behind the scenes. Decisions were made as much as possible in the moment, close to where learning actually happens. Not later in an office, but right there. That shared responsibility is what turns ownership into something real. When learners feel trusted and involved, ownership grows, and motivation grows with it.

Different schools, different contexts. Yet the same foundation, visible again and again.