It's not the children who need to change, but the system.

There’s a topic that has stayed with me for many years. Even during my studies, when I first gained experience at a Waldorf school and a Montessori-oriented institution, I kept coming back to the same issue.

And now, in the years I’ve had the privilege of working at my current school, it still occupies my mind constantly:Our education system.

From early childhood education through to high school graduation, children and young people move through a system that is outdated and no longer fits our modern society. It demands performance in ways that are no longer relevant. Instead of creating spaces where children can thrive and develop, it forces them into rigid structures designed to shape them until they “fit in.”Those who call for change, who have been working with progressive educational methods for years—as many independent schools do—are often met with condescension.

Funding is cut. Innovation is stifled.Yet these are the very schools where children experience what dignity, participation, and genuine community can look like. Morning circles or school assemblies—places where democratic processes are practiced—are the norm. But even these are often dismissed or ridiculed by outsiders.

That makes me angry. Because when I talk to colleagues from other schools, I realize how unusual the things we do at our school really are. And at the same time—it shouldn’t be unusual.It should be normal for teachers to have time to truly accompany children. For education to be about more than curriculum and content delivery. It should be about empowering children to think for themselves, to express opinions, and to explore the world without fear of judgment or grades.

School should be a practice ground where children learn that others may question their ideas—and that it’s still valuable to have a voice of their own.

In our current system, that kind of space is missing. Still today, getting an A in math or physics often counts for more than the ability to act with empathy or take on responsibility. Still today, children are placed far too early in large groups with few opportunities for retreat—leaving educators stretched to their limits.

Even in kindergartens, 30 children with only four caregivers is considered normal. Every child looking for resonance, for real connection, often gets left behind.

And this continues in our schools.Relationships between teachers and students are rare; instead, everything revolves around grades, punishments, and consequences. But children are not beings who need to be “tamed.” They are individuals who deserve to be taken seriously. They don’t need to change.The system needs to change.

Children who seem “difficult” are, in truth, facing difficulties—brought on by structures that don’t fit them. When children struggle, it’s not because they are the problem. It’s because they are struggling with the problem.

Nowhere is this more apparent than in the discussion about inclusion. We talk about it often—but rarely is it truly lived.Children with diagnoses like autism or ADHD are frequently reduced to those labels instead of being seen as whole people.Children with physical disabilities are still too often pushed to the margins, rather than naturally included.The child disappears behind the diagnosis. But children are not their diagnoses. Children are children.And they have a right to be at the center of our society—not at the edge.

Right now, we’re seeing a deepening divide:On one side, children who seemingly “fit” the system, who stay under the radar and conform.On the other, children who fall through the cracks because they don’t fit the mold.This cannot go on.We are not two societies. We are one.An inclusive school must mean that everyone belongs—that we create structures that embrace diversity instead of filtering it out.

I truly believe it can be different. Even small changes can have a big impact:A shared start to the day where children and adults meet as equals.Teachers who don’t just teach—but listen.Relationships that come before performance.Because only when connection is present, can real learning and achievement take place.

That’s why it makes me both sad and angry to see independent schools—those that have been doing this work for years—fighting for survival.When funding is cut.When parents must fight just to give their children access to the kind of education they need.I see children at demonstrations holding signs that say:"Without this school, I would have fallen through the cracks."And at the same time, there are discussions about restricting or even shutting down those very schools.

Where has our humanity gone? Where is our compassion for one another?We are working with children—children who spend the majority of their childhood in educational institutions.We are their guides, their role models.And we bear the responsibility to shape that time in ways that build them up, not break them down.

I hope we find the courage to truly transform this system.That more educators, more parents, more children and young people raise their voices and say:This can’t go on.

We want an education system that sees children—not just their performance.We want a system that enables relationships, instead of standing in their way.

We want a system where inclusion is not a side issue, but a lived reality.

Change is possible. And change is necessary.