School of Thought

The night before I was scheduled to speak at Columbia University about People-Based Learning, I went looking for inspiration. This is not always a sensible thing to do. The sensible thing would probably have been to stay home. Review my slides. Pack my bag. Go to bed early enough to catch a 7:00 a.m. train to New York without resenting every person who has ever scheduled anything before noon.

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At Lower Merion High School, we had three minutes between classes. One hundred and eighty seconds to close a notebook, hit a locker, use the bathroom, and get to the other side of the building before the late bell rang. It still makes me anxious to think about that and it was a LONG time ago. I used to assume this was just bad logistics, but thinking about it now, I am pretty sure I was wrong. It was a design choice, and it clearly revealed a priority.

❤️ Thank you for being here. One of the unexpected gifts of writing People-Based Learning has been the conversations it has opened. And a question I’ve gotten just recently sparked an idea. What does People-Based Learning actually look like in the world? The more I thought about it, the more I realized I don’t want to answer that question alone. People-Based Learning isn’t a model to introduce, it’s not even really new.

Click the ♥️ if this resonates. We don’t have a shortage of learning, we have a shortage of learning that changes anything. We sit in rooms, listening and nodding. We take notes we may or may not revisit. For a moment, it feels like something is happening. And then we go back to our lives largely the same. This is strange, if you think about it. Because most of us, especially if you are reading this, care deeply about learning all the time. We invest time, energy, entire periods of our lives into it.

Friends, help others find School of Thought by clicking the ♥️. I spent much of fifth grade drawing. While other students debated ideas, I sketched. While conversations bounced around the room, I mapped connections. Years later, I ran into a sweet guy from that fifth-grade class at a high school reunion. At some point he smiled and said, “I remember you being really quiet.” Before I could respond, several of my other high school friends nearly fell out of their chairs.

I have always learned best when I was making something. And as a kid, I was always drawing. Up until sixth grade, I illustrated all my school essays. That was until Mrs. Fiel, my sweet little sixth grade English teacher at Bala Cynwyd Middle School, who resembled Mrs. Piggle Wiggle, gently told me that wasn’t “appropriate” to include my drawings in my written work anymore. I complied, but something was lost. In Spanish class, I had up until then gone all out in the craftiness elements of homework.

My kids have always made things. As far back as I can remember, as soon as they could hold scissors, fold paper, press clay, every holiday brought something handmade. Maybe it arose because of all of the art supplies in our house, or their interest in making things with paper - both are true. But no one taught them to do this, it just arose, the way the best rituals do. And now, that is what happens. Now those gifts are scattered around our house like little time capsules. Clay flowers.

Click the above ♥️ if you are weird. Before we start, a quick check. Answer honestly (just to yourself, no grades!): Do you tend to speak for yourself, not for others? Do you think analytically, breaking things into parts? Do you believe in free will? Do you take personal responsibility for your actions? If you answered yes to most of those, you likely fit the WEIRD profile. And so, probably, does your picture of what good teaching and learning looks like.

“Two things stand out to me from these sessions. The first is that they don’t just talk about connection—they actually create it. There’s something about being in a space where you’re expected to think with other people, not just listen, that shifts how you show up. I find myself taking more risks, sharing ideas earlier, and actually learning in the moment. The second is that everything is small enough to try right away.