Little ones come into this world with an insatiable curiosity, a boundless eagerness to soak up every bit of knowledge and experience. But something shifts the moment they step into the structured world of formal education. Suddenly, learning is no longer about what captivates their minds. It becomes a race to meet benchmarks, tick boxes, and follow a predetermined syllabus. The freedom to choose their learning path, pace, or method disappears. They find themselves squeezed into a system designed not for them, but for some imagined “average” student.
Is it any wonder their enthusiasm begins to fade?
In the early years of my teaching career, I worked in a high-performing academic school. I was the teacher who tried to make learning fun, always adding a bit of sparkle to our days. But even then, something didn’t sit right. I often found myself thinking, “Is this really it?” I’d start lessons knowing students were there out of obligation, not excitement. That imbalance, the lack of choice, stayed with me.
How could we expect students to be self-driven learners if we never let them explore what truly mattered to them? How could we foster creative and critical thinkers if we controlled every part of their experience, from seating plans to writing topics?
I began to question everything. Why were we teaching to the middle? Why were we asking students to conform to the mold of the “average” when no such learner actually exists? It was through this questioning that I discovered the work of Todd Rose. His concept of the “jagged profile” helped give language to what I had long observed. Each learner brings a unique set of strengths, interests, and needs. When we try to measure everyone by the same yardstick, we ignore that richness.
We are not meant to flatten students into categories. We are meant to build learning environments that honor their individuality.
This realization led me to explore new educational philosophies. I was drawn to Montessori, Waldorf, unschooling, and the growing research around learner variability. I started making small changes in my classroom, giving students more agency, inviting them into decision-making, and designing projects around their interests.
It wasn’t always easy. There were moments when I wondered if I was doing the right thing. I worried my students might fall behind their peers in more traditional settings. But over time, I saw a shift. Students were more engaged, more curious, and more willing to take risks. Their questions deepened. Their thinking became more reflective. Parents noticed it too. Their children were more excited about school, more eager to share, and more confident in their learning.
I realized that true learning is not about conformity. It is about designing for the individual. It is about trusting curiosity as the engine of growth.
Even though I’ve stepped out of the classroom, I carry those lessons with me. Through Give Spark, I now work with educators and schools to co-create resources that break away from standardization and build toward something more human. We are not designing for the average. We are designing for the real child in front of us.
Because when we make space for curiosity, when we let students own their learning, incredible things happen.
The journey hasn’t been easy. It requires courage to challenge the system and trust students to lead. But I’ve seen what’s possible when we do. Learning becomes joyful. School becomes meaningful. Childhood becomes something to protect and celebrate.
Now, more than ever, I believe in the need for a learning revolution. One that sees each child as a whole person. One that recognizes their individuality not as a flaw, but as the key to unlocking their potential.
This isn’t about throwing away structure. It’s about rethinking who we’re designing it for. Not the average. The individual.
So to every teacher, parent, and visionary out there who knows learning can be more — let’s build it. Let’s turn education into an adventure that reflects the beauty and complexity of every child.
Let’s give spark to curiosity, and watch what happens next.