University of the Sunshine Coast

When Numbers Deceive: Rethinking Equity for Culturally Diverse Doctoral Candidates

In Australian higher education, equity is often measured through population parity—the idea that when enrolment numbers for a group reflect their proportion in the general population, equity has been achieved. But what happens when parity is achieved and equity status revoked? What if those numbers plateau or even decline, and the group quietly disappears from policy focus? This has happened to culturally and linguistically diverse doctoral candidates in the 2016 Australian Council of Learned Academies’ (ACOLA) Report on Australian doctoral education. 

This is the central question we explored in our recent paper, Forgetting culturally diverse equity groups in Australian doctoral policy: what happens when population parity is reached? We use  Nancy Fraser’s concept of “participatory parity” and Foucauldian discourse analysis  to  expose how culturally and linguistically diverse (CALD) domestic doctoral candidates have been effectively written out of Australia’s equity agenda.

A cue to disengage

The turning point, we argue, was the 2016 ACOLA Report, which noted that domestic candidates from culturally and linguistically diverse backgrounds had reached participation ratios above population parity. The ACOLA Report suggests that ‘participation by candidates from a non-English speaking background is good with ratios well above 1 for most of the reporting period but with a notable decline in the last two years’. After this comment, there is no further reporting or policy commentary on this group of doctoral candidates and very little concern that their numbers were actually declining. 

But rather than celebrating this as a step forward and continuing the work of support and inclusion, policymakers took this as a cue to disengage. Subsequent reports and policy documents, including the 2024 Australian University Accord, no longer list CALD domestic doctoral candidates as a priority equity group.

This matters for several reasons.

First, it assumes cultural diversity is homogeneous and stable—that all CALD groups experience equal access, support, and outcomes. This is demonstrably false. The experiences of migrants, refugees, and ethnically diverse Australians differ widely. Participation data based on ‘language spoken at home’ is an inadequate proxy for cultural diversity. Yet this flawed metric continues to shape reporting and resourcing.

Second, declaring population parity ignores ongoing structural inequities, including racism, cultural misrecognition. It also ignores the dominance of Northern/Western knowledge systems in academia. There is nothing in the ACOLA Report, for example, that considers the cultural and linguistic knowledge and networks brought to Australian doctoral education by these candidates.   

As we note, achieving numeric parity does not dismantle these barriers. The real danger is that when equity is reduced to counting heads, the deeper project of epistemic justice – the recognition and valuing of diverse cultural knowledges – is sidelined.

So, what can the sector and universities do?

We suggest reframing and a more nuanced understanding of parity. Specifically, we recommend adopting Fraser’s idea of participatory parity, which includes three dimensions: redistribution (economic fairness), recognition (cultural legitimacy), and representation (political voice). Participatory parity seeks to address concerns about cultural hierarchies and offers equal recognition for all cultures. 

For CALD doctoral candidates, this means not only opening doors to enrolment but ensuring their knowledge systems, methodologies, and lived experiences are recognised and valued in research spaces.

In practical terms, this could involve:

  • Restoring CALD domestic candidates as an equity group in national and institutional reporting
  • Funding culturally responsive supervision and support programs
  • Expanding doctoral scholarships and mentorships specifically designed for diverse cultural communities
  • Embedding epistemic diversity into doctoral training and research assessment criteria.

Especially urgent

The insights in our paper are especially urgent at a time when Australian universities are under pressure to reimagine research training – often with an overwhelming focus on industry partnerships. As this shift accelerates, it is vital that we do not lose sight of equity and inclusion as foundational to the mission of higher education.

For outreach professionals and equity leaders, this is a call to action. Metrics matter, but only when they serve justice, not when they become a convenient endpoint. If our policy frameworks stop asking why disparities exist—and start assuming they’ve been solved—then we risk institutionalising silence where advocacy is needed most.

We must go beyond the numbers. Participatory parity offers a way to re-anchor equity in justice, culture, and voice. It’s time we brought CALD doctoral candidates back into view—not just as participants, but as powerful knowledge-makers in their own right.

Catherine Manathunga is professor of education research and co-director of the Indigenous and Transcultural Research Centre (ITRC) at the University of the Sunshine Coast (USC) . Jing Qi is a senior lecturer at RMIT University in the School of Global, Urban and Social Studies and the Social Equity Research Centre. Maria Raciti is a professor of marketing and co-director the of Indigenous and Transcultural Research Centre (ITRC) at the University of the Sunshine Coast

Evidence is important, but what is the problem?

Following on from our previous piece, we explore the necessity for genuine evidence-based education practice to guide teachers’ work. 

What is evidence-based practice in education, really?

By the early 2000s, the medical model had evolved from Sackett’s original concept. New frameworks appeared integrating the patient’s values, preferences, and circumstances and the clinical context, with research evidence and practitioner expertise. Through this evolution, evidence-based practice became an individualised process of decision-making. It relied on professional reflection, situational awareness, and mutual understanding between doctor and patient.

It was never designed as a universal prescription, but as a guide for action within the complexities of human care.

Evidence-based practice in education didn’t emerge through a tradition of reflective professional judgement, as it did in medicine. Instead, it was imported through policy mechanisms, often driven by governments seeking scalable solutions to perceived educational problems. 

In Australia, these “solutions” are provided by the Australian Education Research Organisation (AERO). Agencies such as the EPPI-Centre (UK), the EdCan Network (Canada), and the Institute of Education Sciences (USA) serve similar purposes. They promote models of evidence use that emphasise generalisability and scalability at the expense of teacher expertise and local context.

Teachers are not invited to interpret evidence, only to receive it

In these systems, evidence-based practice becomes something done to teachers, not by them. 

The clinician making a judgement for and with a patient is replaced by a teacher required to implement a set of strategies proven “to work” in controlled trial. That’s regardless of the student, classroom, or community. The message is clear: teachers are not invited to interpret evidence, only to receive it.

This pattern of decontextualised, policy-driven “evidence use” is not new. Others have rightly criticised it. In recent posts, authors such as Dean Ashenden, Nicole Brunker, and Nicole Mockler highlight the narrowing of what counts as “evidence,” the sidelining of teacher expertise, and the ideological function of “what works” discourse in Australian education reform. These are essential critiques.

Our aim here is to build on and deepen that conversation. We do so by revisiting the roots of evidence-based practice in its original domain: medicine. By returning to David Sackett’s foundational model, we show just how far education has drifted from evidence-based practice as a reflective, individualised and context-sensitive endeavour.

A fundamental departure

We argue that what AERO presents as evidence-based practice is not simply reductive. By removing these crucial elements, it represents a fundamental departure from the professional logic that EBP was built on.

This departure matters. It shapes how teachers are trained, how their practice is judged, and how their professional expertise is valued, or ignored. It also has deep implications for student learning, particularly in a system where teachers are not supported to think critically with and about evidence. They are instead expected to implement pre-approved solutions that exclude uncertainty, discourage inquiry. These ‘solutions’ bypass the relational dynamics that are central to teaching. This is in a system that is supposed to teach critical and creative thinking in every Australian child.

We write to reclaim it as a tradition of reflective practice, professional judgement, and pedagogical care.

No problem solving for teachers or students

In the foreword to the fourth edition of their book Evidence-based Practice Across the Health Professions published just last year, Australian EBP experts Hoffman, Bennett, and Del Mar cover the current understanding of the medical model of EBP (MEBP). They define it as a “problem based approach where research evidence is used to assist in clinical decision making”. 

This remains consistent with what David Sackett understood when he first articulated evidence-based medicine. Professionals make decisions in uncertain, complex, and relational contexts. They draw on research, experience, and the needs of those they serve.

We argue that this conception of EBP is most suitable for translation into education because both teaching and learning are, at their core, problem-solving practices. Instead we are left with an education ideology that removes the practice-as/is-problem-solving and learning-as/is-problem-solving foundation of Sackett’s concept of evidence-based practice for teachers and students.

A core competency

We call for problem solving to be a core competency for teachers, just as it is for practitioners in MEBP where practice is underpinned by what Hoffman et al call an “attitude of inquiry”. Unlike AERO’s “this works – do it” mentality, the process of MEBP acknowledges that “uncertainty is an inherent part of health care”, and begins with the practitioner identifying a problem in their own context and going to the evidence base with a question. We advocate for an evidence-based practice in education that embraces the uncertainty of our profession. We propose an adaptation of MEBP’s “The five A’s” as a frame for guiding educators to engage in evidence-based practice:

The Five A’s of EBP for Education 

  1. Ask a question – convert your information needs into an answerable pedagogical question
  2. Access the information – find the best evidence to answer your pedagogical question
  3. Appraise the articles found – critically appraise the evidence for its validity (risk of bias), impact and applicability in your unique context, with your specific students
  4. Apply the information – integrate the evidence with classroom expertise; the students’ values, preferences and circumstances; and information from your classroom context.
  5. Audit – evaluate the effectiveness and efficiency with which steps 1–4 were carried out, and think about ways to improve your performance of them next time.

Embracing a framework like the Five A’s for EBP in education would not be an easy change. 

Time, resources and professional learning

Teachers would need time, resources and professional learning to develop the research literacy to engage in this kind of professional practice. However, it holds the potential for educators to take back the ownership of their profession, reclaiming/reframing teaching as a tradition of reflective practice, professional judgement, and pedagogical care.

If teachers, researchers and educational leaders are respected as the professionals they are, then there is potential to correct the current trajectory of evidence-based practice in education and its undermining of the very heart of effective teaching, empowering teachers as problem-finding, problem-solving, critically reflective teacher-learners committed to individual student needs, rather than as mere implementers of mandates.

Brad Fuller is an educator and researcher with over 35 years of experience in music education and curriculum innovation. He is associate lecturer in music education at the Sydney Conservatorium of Music, University of Sydney. James Humberstone is a senior lecturer in music education at the Sydney Conservatorium of Music, The University of Sydney. He specialises in teaching music pedagogies, technology in music education, and musical creativities. Rachael Dwyer is a lecturer in curriculum and pedagogy at the University of the Sunshine Coast. Her scholarship is focused on creating social change, through decolonizing, arts-based approaches to teaching, advocacy and research.

AERO says educators can trust its evidence. Can they really? 

The first in a two-part series on AERO and evidence. Tomorrow: Evidence is important, but what is the problem?

The Federal Government has now ordered an independent performance evaluation of AERO, conducted by KPMG. You can provide feedback here.

There have been debates about whether teaching is an “evidence-based” profession, or whether it should be. 

The discourse around evidence-based teaching and learning has been dominated by “effectiveness research”. That’s driven by a neoliberal obsession with metrics, the most convenient metrics being standardised test scores like NAPLAN and PISA.

Declining scores on these tests is most often attributed to poor teaching. Specifically, the blame is attributed to the quality of teachers graduating from university initial teacher education (ITE) programs. Part of the Australian Government’s solution to this  perceived problem is to increase oversight of ITE programs in universities. This has led to the introduction of highly prescriptive “Core Content” for ITE programs from the Strong Beginnings report, and further surveillance of ITE through a new Quality Assurance Board (to regulate the regulators).

The Core Content mandates teaching strategies and approaches that are “shown by research” or “proven” to be effective. 

The evidence for these assertions comes from the Australian Educational Research Organisation (AERO). AERO was established as part of the Gonski 2.0 reforms, as a national evidence body. It was intended to “conduct research and share knowledge to promote better educational outcomes for Australian children and young people”. AERO publishes a range of resources, including “Explainers”, intended to provide advice to teachers about evidence-based practice. But is this evidence-based practice, or a new avenue for governments to further intrude into the classroom?

Should teachers trust AERO to interpret the evidence for them?

As Nicole Mockler and Meghan Stacey explain, it’s hard to argue against ‘evidence-based practice’ but the devil is in the detail. Evidence-based practice as it is understood in medicine, is a far cry from evidence-based practice as it’s currently understood in teaching. Evidence-based medicine was conceived as a reflective practice grounded in individual judgement by the medical practitioner, considering systematic research evidence, their own expertise and the patient’s needs. It emerged from the medical professions in the 1990s and was pioneered by David Sackett, It has since evolved beyond Sackett’s original vision, extended to balance the patient’s values and preferences, the clinical context, the practitioner’s expertise and research evidence. 

Evidence-based teaching has been driven by policy mechanisms, promoting models of evidence use that emphasise generalisability and scalability. It reduces teaching to a set of formulaic strategies. The evidence and resources presented by AERO appear to position teachers as incapable of understanding and interpreting research, then making professional judgments based on their students and the school content. AEROpresents the research as if it was black and white– “proven”, incontestable facts. The evidence is presented as an instruction manual, with no space for professional judgments or critique.

Education researchers know  this is very rarely the case. Let’s look atAERO’s explainer on Managing cognitive load. Drawing primarily on Sweller’s cognitive load theory, the explainer proposes that explicit or direct instruction helps to avoid students experiencing cognitive overload. This can occur when too much new information is presented at once. It can also occur when previously taught knowledge is not regularly revisited. 

Arguments and counter-arguments

There is significant evidence to support the educational psychology of cognitive load theory. But there are also counter-arguments. Sweller argues that unguided learning “does not work”. But others provide evidence that problem-based and inquiry learning can be effective, and that contextual factors must inform pedagogical choices. When we consider these perspectives on the research, we begin to see the selective approach to research on which AERO has built its “evidence base”.

This is not just a concern for practising teachers. It is a concern for the entire educational enterprise. Critical thinking is identified as a crucial skill for the 21st Century. It drives innovation and preparing students for a world we can’t yet imagine.

The Australian Government promotes the importance of critical thinking. But at the same time, AERO recommends strengthening evidence-based practice through highly prescriptive approaches to teaching. It mirrors the same top-down, narrow interpretation of ‘what works’ that characterises AERO’s materials.

The government asks no questions of AERO’s research

The Australian government appears to be not engaging in any critical thinking, taking AERO’s research explainers at their word. An example of this is the full acceptance of the Strong Beginnings recommendations, including the swift implementation of the Core Content for ITE programs.

Content from the Managing cognitive load explainer dominates Core Content areas 1 and 2 from Strong Beginnings, with all ITE programs expected to teach their students:

1.2.3 The most effective teaching practices to reduce cognitive overload, including explicit instruction, scaffolding, and clearly structured content that connects new information to prior learning.

2.2.3 The importance of presenting all information required to complete these chunked tasks in one place and at one time, excluding information not directly related to the task, to reduce cognitive overload.

2.2.6 Why independent problem-solving is only effective once a student approaches proficiency (i.e. after ample opportunities to practise progressively challenging tasks) and why independent problem-solving should not represent a large proportion of teaching and learning time.

(Australian Institute for Teaching and School Leadership, 2023)

There is no nuance in this policy language. It tells teachers what is effective and what is not. AERO presented the research as black and white, and now the policy does the same. 

Evidenced based teaching is only as good as the evidence itself

Under the present evidence-based regime in education we have lost any consensus on what evidence-based practice even means. Some suggest that evidence-based practice is oppressive, that it is in opposition to good education, leading to pre-determining of teaching practices with no regard for local context.

Others suggest that the problem is narrow definitions of what counts as evidence, and that evidence-informed policy and practice are vital to the profession. The version of evidence-based practice promoted by AERO reduces evidence to prescription, positioning teachers as technicians. This is not what David Sackett envisaged when he first articulated evidence-based medicine: that professionals make decisions in uncertain, complex, and relational contexts by drawing on research,experience, and the needs of those they serve. 

Can teachers trust AERO’s evidence?

So, can teachers trust AERO’s evidence? Maybe they could if trust meant more than compliance. But perhaps the bigger question is why doesn’t AERO trust teachers? What if AERO treated teachers not as technicians, but as thinking professionals in relationship with their students. Maybe AERO needs an “explainer”?

Rachael Dwyer is a lecturer in curriculum and pedagogy at the University of the Sunshine Coast. Her scholarship is focused on creating social change, through decolonizing, arts-based approaches to teaching, advocacy and research. James Humberstone is a senior lecturer in music education at the Sydney Conservatorium of Music, The University of Sydney. He specialises in teaching music pedagogies, technology in music education, and musical creativities. Brad Fuller is an educator and researcher with over 35 years of experience in music education and curriculum innovation. He is associate lecturer in music education at the Sydney Conservatorium of Music, University of Sydney.

No more checklists – just lifelong commitment from today

As an experienced early childhood educator and skilled migrant to Australia, I view education as a vehicle for transformation. Moving from Pakistan’s structured education system to Australia’s diverse landscape has deepened my understanding of how culture shapes learning. A key turning point in my journey has been integrating Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander perspectives into early childhood education, an experience that has reshaped both my practice and worldview.

Australia’s education sector increasingly recognises the value of embedding Indigenous perspectives. But the question remains: Are we doing this authentically or merely ticking boxes?

This blog reflects on my evolving understanding and the steps we must take to ensure Indigenous perspectives are genuinely honoured in early childhood settings.

Beginning with the Self: A Reflexive Lens

Change begins with self-awareness. My work as a public servant in Pakistan provided a strong foundation in education systems. But  it wasn’t until I entered Australia’s early learning sector that I began to question whose knowledge is valued and whose stories are told.

These reflections pushed me to ask:

  • Whose stories are we sharing with children?
  • What knowledge systems are we privileging?
  • How do our cultural identities influence our teaching?

Without this self-location, our efforts risk being tokenistic.

Moving from Tokenism to Transformation

Too often, Indigenous content is reduced to symbolic gestures, dot paintings, Dreamtime stories during NAIDOC Week, or the Aboriginal flag on display. While well-intentioned, these acts often lack depth and continuity.

Tokenism reduces rich cultures to surface-level content and reinforces stereotypes. A transformative approach involves:

  • Understanding Country and Place: Recognising learning as relational and land-connected.
  • Respecting Indigenous Ways of Knowing: Including oral histories, community voices, and land-based pedagogies.
  • Building Reciprocal Relationships: Working with, not for, Aboriginal communities.

Learning from Indigenous Voices

Engaging with Aboriginal scholarship transformed my thinking. Tyson Yunkaporta’s Sand Talk encouraged me to view knowledge through Indigenous metaphors relational, non-linear, and grounded in Country. Karen Martin’s work on Aboriginal epistemology deepened my understanding of curriculum as relational, place-based, and community-driven.

From Reflection to Action: Embedding Perspectives

Theory only takes us so far. Here’s how I’ve applied this in practice:

1. Place-Based Learning
Each place has an Indigenous history. In my role supporting early learning services, we began acknowledging Country as part of our daily rhythm outdoors, during sensory play, and in conversations about the land, weather, and animals. 

2. Community Relationships
We sought genuine partnerships with local Elders and cultural educators. Their stories brought depth and context to the curriculum. One Elder shared a local Dreaming story and helped children create clay animals, an experience that brought cultural learning to life in a respectful, memorable way.

3. Purposeful Curriculum Planning
We moved away from “special topic weeks” and began weaving Indigenous perspectives into everyday learning.
Examples include:

  • Including Aboriginal seasonal knowledge in science units on life cycles.
  • Introducing traditional rhythms and dances in music with community guidance.
  • Using First Nations-authored picture books in literacy to reflect diverse voices.

This aligns with the idea of “pedagogies of possibility,” where the curriculum becomes a site of reflection and ethical practice.

Embracing Discomfort

This journey hasn’t been easy. At times, I’ve felt uncertain and fearful of making mistakes. But I’ve come to see discomfort as part of growth.

Challenges include:

  • Fear of getting it wrong: A common concern. But respectful engagement, consultation, and reflection help us move forward.
  • Lack of knowledge or confidence: Ongoing professional learning is essential. Workshops, Indigenous literature, and connecting with local organisations are great starting points.
  • Systemic barriers: Time and funding can limit engagement. Leadership support is key to embedding this work meaningfully.

Looking Ahead: What Must Change

For lasting impact, we must focus on:

1. Initial Teacher Education
Universities should embed Indigenous content across disciplines, not isolate it to a single unit

2. Culturally Safe Workplaces
We need environments where educators feel safe to explore identity and culture. This includes:

  • Anti-bias training
  • Cultural protocols
  • Leadership that models inclusive practice

3. Community-Led Professional Development
PD must be guided by Aboriginal voices, Elders, cultural educators, and Aboriginal-owned consultancies. This shifts power and builds relevance. 

Final Reflections: A Lifelong Journey

Embedding Indigenous perspectives isn’t a checklist, it’s a lifelong commitment. It requires us to question dominant narratives and honour multiple ways of knowing.

As someone living on unceded lands, I feel responsible to uphold First Nations voices. As an educator, I have the privilege of shaping young minds and the responsibility to do so ethically and inclusively.

Let’s build classrooms not just inclusive of Indigenous perspectives, but built upon them where learning is land-connected, community-guided, and grounded in respect.

“When we embed Indigenous ways of knowing, being, and doing in our practice, we are not just teaching children we are reshaping the future.”

Arzoo Kanwal is enrolled in a research graduate certificate at the University of the Sunshine Coast. She is an experienced early childhood education leader and researcher who is passionate about embedding Indigenous perspectives, cultural inclusion, and teacher development.

Scholarships for teaching students are great – but will they really diversify the profession now?

Australia is in the midst of a teacher shortage, and with 35% of teachers considering leaving the workforce before they reach retirement age, the problem may get worse before it gets better. This means we need to increase the number of teachers graduating from university teaching degrees. The full set of data for 2024 university applicants isn’t available yet, but UAC data suggests that applications to study teaching degrees at universities are trending downwards

One of the strategies to address the teacher shortage is the new Federal Government scholarships to encourage more people to undertake teaching degrees. While hoping to attract more people to teaching overall, the scholarships target groups under-represented in the profession, with scholarships available for First Nations peoples, people for whom English is an additional language/dialect, people with disabilities, people from regional, rural or remote locations, and people from low socio-economic backgrounds. Currently, the level of diversity in the student population in Australian schools far exceeds the diversity of the teachers, with the majority of teachers being from monolingual, White-Anglo and middle-class backgrounds, and more likely to be born in Australia than the general population.

Benefits of a diverse teacher workforce

Research also tells us that a diverse teaching population has a positive impact on student learning outcomes and engagement in schooling. Students perceive schools as more inclusive and welcoming environments when they see teachers who have similar racial and ethnic backgrounds. Based on teachers’ own experiences as culturally and linguistically diverse students, they can better understand their students’ cultural practices and beliefs and how they grow as learners. As insiders to the experiences of racism, they are valuable in the fight for educational and social justice. They make significant contributions to their school communities, due to their distinct experiences and their ability to offer students a different worldview, as well as becoming cross-cultural mentors for their mainstream colleagues.

But will these scholarships work to diversify the teaching profession?

There is no doubt that these scholarships will be attractive for some promising teacher candidates who would otherwise face greater challenges juggling study with their work, health needs and caring responsibilities. There is potential for the pool of students studying teaching to be widened because of the availability of such scholarships,  which would be a positive outcome.

However, financial support during their studies isn’t going to provide everything these students need to have a successful career in teaching. For example, our research has found that teachers from culturally, linguistically and racially diverse backgrounds (we use the acronym CLRD) experience higher levels of isolation, exclusion and racism in their workplaces. CLRD teachers can experience discrimination on the basis of skin colour, accent, dress and even food. Teachers have told us:

“At times, my faculty  would have lunch together in the staff room. It would have been nice to be told about this, even just to be polite, but it did make me feel very left out.”

“Teachers from Anglo background speak to you in a condescending way, belittle you, question your knowledge and qualifications, and there’s definitely a hierarchy where they consider themselves better than you.”

Forced to conceal their true identity

While there isn’t explicit evidence to connect these experiences to racism, every CLRD teacher who participated in our research shared a story like this. Teachers from CLRD backgrounds often feel forced to conceal their true identity to try and fit in, and it means that they’re less likely to stay in the profession and thrive in their careers.

In addition, most CLRD teachers described additional labour they were expected to undertake because of their race, language or cultural background. Some teachers were happy to do this work to help their students, but many commented that this was labour they did not see their white counterparts being asked to do.

Further, when it comes to scholarships, it’s vital that recipients successfully complete their ITE programs. Some teacher candidates from equity groups may require additional academic support from their university, and may not complete their programs without that help. Some universities do a great job of providing this support, but it takes extra resources. How students will be supported needs to be a part of the discussion.

So will these scholarships keep new teachers from leaving the profession?

The financial support may help teacher candidates from equity groups to take the leap into university studies, but it’s not a single solution to teacher retention.  Teachers on these scholarships are required to teach in public schools for a period equal to the length of their studies – two or four years. But to create a sustainable pipeline of teachers, we need them to stay longer than that, and based on our research there are other barriers that need to be addressed. Support from school leadership teams is essential, as is a united front on the part of the school, to reject racism and discrimination. Schools and leadership teams must genuinely see cultural and linguistic diversity as a positive attribute, rather than a deficit. Cash incentives during their studies isn’t going to be enough of a drawcard to stay in a harmful work environment.

From left to right: Dr Rachael Dwyer (she/her) is a Lecturer in Curriculum and Pedagogy at the University of the Sunshine Coast. Her scholarship is focused on creating social change, through decolonizing, arts-based approaches to teaching, advocacy and research, and sharing her scholarship in ways that impact policy and practice. Dr Rachael Jacobs (she/her) is a Senior Lecturer in Creative Arts Education at Western Sydney University and a former secondary school teacher. Her research interests include assessment in the arts, language acquisition through the arts and decolonised approaches to embodied learning. Professor Catherine Manathunga (she/her) is an historian who draws together expertise in historical, sociological and cultural studies research to bring an innovative perspective to educational research, particularly focusing on the higher education sector. She has worked for over 32 years in universities throughout Australia and Aotearoa New Zealand. Professor Daniel Harris (they/them) is an Australian Research Council Future Fellow in the School of Education, RMIT University, Melbourne, Australia, and Co-Director of Creative Agency research lab: www.creativeresearchhub.com. They are an international expert in creativity studies, creative methods, affect theory and autoethnography. They are committed to the power of collaborative creative practice and social justice research to inform social change.  Dr Jing Qi (she/her) is Manager of Community Languages Teacher Education Program in the School of Global, Urban and Social Sciences at RMIT. Jing draws together experiences in multilingual, transcultural, and technological studies in her current educational research projects in the areas of teacher education, international education and teacher education. 

The engine needs an urgent fix. Here’s how

A second response to If not now, then when is the right time to re-envisage what schools could be? by Pasi Sahlberg and Sharon Goldfeld. You can also read What we want to say right now to Sahlberg and Goldfeld from Nathaniel Swain, Pamela Snow, Tanya Serry, Tessa Weadman and Eamon Charles

To paraphrase Pasi Sahlberg et al in Reinventing Australian Schools, our education vehicle is on the blink. Despite decades of well-intentioned declarations and reforms, increased funding, and the everyday professionalism of our educators, Australian education is unequal, underperforming and unwell. 

Although students with educated parents and ample means are more likely to get what they need from their schools, the engine that powers our collective future leaves too many students behind, and not only those from disadvantaged groups. At the same time, our young people have some of the lowest levels of mental health and wellbeing among wealthy countries. As evidenced in the NSRA Study Report, educators too have been suffering and are leaving classrooms in record numbers, with the heavy workload, stress and the need for a better work/life balance cited as the main reasons for leaving the profession. 

Sahlberg et al argue for a bold alternative to our education status quo, beginning with a reassessment of the purpose of education that acknowledges the connection between academic learning and health and wellbeing. Their bold alternative would get “rid of anything that does not support a whole child and whole school approach…This approach requires fostering high levels of trust, positive relationship, and collaboration between students and teachers, all teachers and administrators, and parents, communities and schools. For maximum effect, it would also require…more interconnected collaboration between sectors at the system level as well” (pp. 8, 14, 9). 

Re-building the macro-level components of our education machinery will certainly be essential in harnessing the connection between learning and wellbeing to aid the development of the whole child. However the most pivotal mechanism in need of a re-design is the one most often overlooked in discussions of education reform—the classroom itself. 

Classroom educators understand that relationships are where the rubber meets the road. Connection, collaboration and the trust that allows learners to become co-creators in their own learning are keys to student engagement and wellbeing. These are the elements that give learning meaning for young people. However the quality of classroom relationships is more powerfully constrained by the design of the classroom than by the quality of the individual teacher or the quantity of the systems that support them.

Here are two classrooms from around the same time period that have been designed for different kinds of relationships. The one on the left was engineered for relationships based on top-down authority, compliance, obedience, conformity and competition. This classroom design is so pervasive that it is often assumed to be the only viable way that classrooms can be arranged. In contrast, the learner-centred classroom on the right was engineered to encourage engagement, trust, creativity, individuality and collaboration by prioritising relationships and wellbeing. These two designs are built on different assumptions about children and how they learn, and very different beliefs about the purpose of education. 

Here’s the rub. When education is focused primarily on adult priorities like academic outcomes, preparation for work, or convenience for adult scheduling, classrooms tend to be designed for control and so relationships become secondary. This erodes trust and connection between teachers and students, with negative implications not only for mental health and wellbeing but for academic outcomes too.

The solar system graphic illustrates a learner-centred classroom design engineered to activate real choice, personal connection, and collaborative learning. Its central feature is the three-year grouping, which energises the classroom system like the Sun energises our solar system. It goes much further than composite classrooms (single-year classrooms merged together) by grouping learners in developmental stages rather than by chronological age. This gives children time to mature at their own pace within a developmental window. Its many advantages for the wellbeing and mental health of children and educators are multilayered and built into the design itself, so they reinforce one another without explicit instruction.

This learner-centred design mimics familial relationships as children cycle through being the youngest (the “awestruck follower”), then the middle child (the “observant and sometimes overconfident apprentice”), and finally the eldest (the “experienced and nurturing leader”). Children experience each role over and over as they pass through multiage classrooms for infants to three year-olds, 3 to 6 year-olds, 6 to 9 year-olds, 9 to 12 year-olds, 12 to 15 year-olds, and 15 to 18 year-olds. The focus on developmental readiness and position within the classroom system—rather than chronological age—acknowledges students’ experience and abilities while freeing them of the expectation that they should be the same as their peers of the same age. It also adds stability by preserving an institutional memory of traditions, norms and rituals in returning students.

This design flattens classroom management as problems are more often worked out by students instead of needing solutions to be imposed by adults. Students tend to respond more positively to direction from older peers whom they have relationships with, and this relieves educators of the need to constantly manage the classroom, affording them space to observe individuals without distraction.

The three-year structure also orients children’s minds to an appreciation of diversity by prompting them to look for commonalities. Research has shown that children in homogenous groupings tend to search for differences, which promotes clique behaviour, while children placed in diverse groupings tend to look for ways they are the same.

The three-year design makes possible real choice, the engine of motivation. Choice is possible where the teacher is freed from having to manage the whole classroom at once. Children learn through interacting with manipulatives placed on the shelves by educators, and less through direct instruction. The materials each contain their own control of error that draw students’ attention to mistakes, so the role of the educator is primarily to observe and guide individuals toward follow-up activities that suit their particular needs, rather than correct their mistakes. With classroom management handled mostly by older students, teachers can give small group or individualised lessons based on readiness rather than age. Individualised attention becomes routine, rather than an exception to be mobilised only when students struggle.

Giving children real choice unleashes hidden reserves of motivation, so easily extinguished when children are herded and cajoled. Learners invest more of themselves in an activity if they’ve had some say in choosing it. When given real choice from an array of concrete experiences, children construct their own understandings at their own pace. They don’t have to keep up with peers in order to conform to the teacher’s schedule, so they avoid the most corrosive effects of competition.

The three-year design also makes possible deep personal connections. Students build strong bonds of trust with the same teacher over three years. Teachers get to know their returning students well, so they know which stories and activities will capture their imaginations and motivate them. This trust encourages orderly freedom of movement and association. In this atmosphere children feel safe enough to see their mistakes as opportunities to learn rather than personal failures. Children are known by the educators who work with them, and authentic assessments are gathered to show meaningful progress over time.

There’s also more trust between educators and parents with this learner-centred design. Since each child is with their teacher for three years there’s an incentive for the teacher to get to know parents and develop good relationships with them. In this classroom model, permanent teacher aides are genuine partners with their lead, rather than itinerant visitors with fleeting connection to students.

Finally, the three-year design makes possible genuine collaborative learning, allowing students to learn from one another at least as much as from teachers. Peer-to-peer learning is enhanced because students are free to choose when, where and with whom they engage in activities. Children don’t all develop at the same pace so a multiage collaboration between any two children may imply a mentoring relationship or it may be a collaboration of equals. Students in this environment understand that everyone in the room—adults included—can be both student and teacher at different times.

This learner-centred design makes possible real choice, deep connection and genuine collaboration. These wellbeing features are built into the design itself so they reinforce one another in the background, and don’t require add-ons (like “brain breaks”) which interrupt students’ concentration without solving the problems inherent in the single-year adult-focused design. Learner-centred classrooms are designed to promote engagement, trust and genuine collaborative relationships from the moment children step into them to the moment they leave as confident, independent young adults.

As long as education continues to serve the interests and convenience of adults first and foremost, the interests and wellbeing of young people will take second place. If all our young people and their educators are to realise their full potential, the education vehicle that drives their development must be re-engineered with their interests and wellbeing at its core.

Mark Powell taught for 27 years in Montessori and was a teacher trainer with the Center for Montessori Teacher Education, New York for 12 years. He has a M.Ed. degree (specialising in Conflict Resolution) from Lesley University in Cambridge MA. He has published articles on Montessori education in Montessori and other education journals, and wrote a chapter in the 2008 book A Place for Play edited by Elizabeth Goodenough. In 2021 he joined the peak body, Montessori Australia, as Director of Education Services and designs innovative professional development, workshops and conferences for Montessori educators around Australia. Mark teaches part-time at the University of the Sunshine Coast.