Education for freedom

This feels like a soul connection—a moment worth remembering. 

Before dinner, I watched a little of the opening ceremony of the Thich Nhat Hanh School of Interbeing. I don't actually have a direct connection with the school. I first learned about it through Meena's newsletter.

And yet, somehow, as I watched, I felt like I was part of the community—with all the people, the teachers, and the students who were gathered there.

I felt excited about what was happening. I suddenly had an urge to write a blog post. I wrote one sentence, then realized I had to stop and make dinner for my family.

After dinner, I finished my blog first. Then I went back to the ceremony.

And then Meena spoke.

Her words shook something in my soul.

I felt so close to her. So inspired by her. And, perhaps most deeply, so understood.

I first found Meena on the internet when I was searching for SEL lessons during my first year as a full-time teacher. Later, I met her through the video presentations in my SEL Foundations class at UC Berkeley. I liked her work and had learned from her books and talks before.

But somehow, none of them had reached me quite like this.

Her vision of education spoke directly to my heart:

“Students are the most powerful teachers.”

“Education is a practice of freedom.”

“This is not a place to use mindfulness to get students to behave, to comply, or to function in an unjust, inhumane system. This is mindfulness as a path, not a tool.”

And then:

“To care for children without exception as though each will someday be the one to show us all the way home.”

I had to pause.

Yes.

This is the kind of education I have been searching for.

And then came the prayer:

“May we care for all children without exception.

May we see the Buddha in each one.

May each child feel as if they deeply belong.

May each child be bathed in love at all times.

May their education help them to become truly free.”

 

This is a school I would want to send my children to.

This is a school I would want to work for.

And I feel such joy knowing that this is happening.

I know this is just a beginning—a small bud opening, showing us what education can become.

I believe one day, there will be many more schools like this.

Tonight, I feel grateful to have witnessed this beginning.

And somehow, I feel that I am part of it.

A Small Bud Waiting to Blossom

My heart smiled when I watched the opening ceremony of the Thich Nhat Hanh School of Interbeing and learned about the upcoming Greater Good Love Summit, organized by UC Berkeley’s Greater Good Science Center.

Something stirred in me.

It feels like the New Education—the education of the whole child, of connection, of awareness, of the heart—is no longer just a distant idea.

It has grown into a small bud, quietly waiting to blossom.

Several years ago, when I attended the Awakened School at Columbia University, it felt more like a seed.

At that time, the spiritual education community was still small. Sometimes it even felt a little… strange. It seemed like a special community existing on its own, somewhat disconnected from public education and regular schools.

But something feels different now.

The bridge is being built.

And we are beginning to cross it.

Perhaps this is not really about bringing “spirituality” into education at all.

Perhaps it is simply a deeper understanding of what education can be.

A way of educating that sees the whole child.

A heart-centered way.

A conscious way.

A way that understands that beneath all the skills, knowledge, assessments, and achievements, there is a human being—feeling, wondering, connecting, imagining, and becoming.

I remember how, not long ago, I hesitated even to put the words “With love, light, and laughter” in my email signature.

Would people think it was too spiritual? Too unusual?

Would it make some of my professional connections uncomfortable?

And now, I smile.

Love is becoming part of the public conversation in education.

The Greater Good Love Summit says it right in its name.

What once felt like a private language of a small community is becoming a language many educators are willing to speak openly.

Maybe the paradigm shift doesn't always arrive with a dramatic announcement.

Sometimes, it simply begins with a word.

Love.

As I think about this, the faces of my TK children keep flashing through my mind.

Their pure smiles.

Their wiggly bodies.

Their enormous curiosity.

Their wild imaginations.

Their directness.

Their flexibility.

The effortless way they reach toward animals and plants.

The way they can be completely themselves before they learn to worry about whether they are doing it “right.”

How much I hope they can keep that.

I hope they don't have to spend their childhood learning to fit themselves into a system, a fixed schedule, a predetermined standard, or a narrow definition of success.

I hope education can grow around the child, rather than asking the child to shrink into education.

And suddenly, I think of Pure Imagination.

Maybe this is what education is meant to protect.

The ability to dream.

To imagine something that doesn't exist yet.

To wonder, What if?

To think it.

To feel it.

To create it.

And perhaps, little by little, to bring it into reality.

The seed was planted.

The bridge is being built.

And now, perhaps, we are watching the first little bud begin to open.