People: the Heart of a Learning Community

Prologue

A few months into the school year, our team sat together discussing Karen*, a quiet third grader. As her "home base" teacher, I spoke about her strong math skills, but noticed she rarely volunteered in class discussions. The EAL teacher added that Karen had been experimenting with new vocabulary in small group work. Another home base teacher chimed in with the added, "Yes, I hear her talking to her friends on the playground." Her confidence was budding. Then the learning support teacher shared how Karen shone in one-on-one settings, especially when given time to process before responding. The counselor wrapped up the conversation with a note from a recent parent meeting and how the parents had remarked that Karen was now eager to come to school each morning.

Five perspectives, one child. Each educator held a piece of the puzzle, but it wasn’t until we put them together that we really saw so many of Karen's successes. That’s the power of a learning community: no single adult carries the full responsibility or the full picture. Together, we see more—and students gain more.

From Silos to Shared Eyes

In a traditional model, each teacher works in isolation. One adult holds responsibility for a group of 20–30 children—the instruction, the differentiation, the assessment, and the parent communication. The classroom becomes the teacher’s kingdom: my room, my students, my lessons.

But no teacher—no matter how dedicated, skilled, or masterful—can hold the full picture of every child. Students are multi-dimensional—creative, anxious, curious, musical, witty, struggling, thriving. Seeing all of that requires more than one set of eyes.

In a learning community, responsibility is shared. Every student belongs to every adult, and every adult is a mentor. Students don’t just have one teacher—they have a team.

That changes everything.

What “People” Look Like in a Learning Community

Harvard’s People, Parts, and Interactions (PPI) thinking routine (Project Zero, n.d.) offers a way to unpack what makes systems function. When we look at the “people” element in schools, the differences between a single-silo model and a learning community become clear:

• More than one teacher for every child. Students gain multiple perspectives, mentors, and advocates. There is an opportunity for each student to find their trusted adult instead of being forced into a relationship with one that might not be the right fit.

• Flexible groups. Groups shift as students grow—expanding, contracting, and reshaping. This flexibility keeps learning responsive and spares teachers from juggling clunky differentiation setups that leave some kids waiting.

• Meeting students where they are. Support is dynamic and responsive, not bound to one teacher’s approach and students can be shifted as needed.

• Spaces for learners, not teachers. Classrooms stop belonging to adults. Educators use spaces flexibly—quiet nooks, breakout rooms, hallways, outdoor spaces—depending on what students need in the moment.

This isn’t just theory. It’s practice that transforms how children are seen, supported, and celebrated.

Collaboration That Improves Learning

The research backs this up. In a landmark study of over 9,000 teachers, Ronfeldt, Farmer, McQueen, and Grissom (2015) found that:

• Students learn more in reading and math when teachers collaborate effectively.

• Collaboration strengthens not just individual classrooms, but the entire school system.

• Structures that support collaboration lead to better outcomes for all students.

In other words: the more adults work together, the more students thrive.

Lessons From a Pandemic Pivot

When COVID shut the world down, we all scrambled. Suddenly, educators were working together in new ways, sharing strategies and learning tech skills at lightning speed. We proved to ourselves—and our students—that we could adapt.

But when schools reopened, most slipped back into business as usual. Doors closed. Teachers retreated to their silos. Normalcy returned, even if we had promised ourselves differently.

At the Western Academy of Beijing, our prototype learning community (Learning Community Principle research) doubled down on this approach. Our “home base” teachers weren’t just classroom generalists—3 of our 5 homerooms were led by two EAL teachers and a learning support teacher-cum-social-emotional coach. Instructional assistants, counselors, and administrators (with an occasional visit from a specialist teacher) joined the mix. That meant every planning meeting overflowed with expertise.

Groups were formed strategically so that the right adult was supporting the right group of learners. The impact was immediate: students were better supported and teachers were learning on the job from one another.

The Heart of It All

When people are at the core of a learning community, a few key shifts emerge:

• Student focus sharpens. Meetings stop being dominated by logistics and instead center on students. More eyes means we can develop a clearer picture (evidenced by Karen's story at the start).

• Parents gain confidence. Instead of one teacher reporting on their child, a team of trusted adults speaks about their child's learning.

• Teachers keep growing. No teacher is great at everything. But when teachers learn side-by-side, strengths multiply and professional growth happens daily, in real time.

We often talk about “teacher collaboration” as a nice-to-have or something our team is striving for. But the truth is, it’s a must-have. Students need multiple adults who know them deeply. And teachers need peers to grow alongside.

As Ronfeldt et al. (2015) remind us, collaboration isn’t just good for morale—it’s good for student learning. People aren’t just one part of the system—they’re the heart.

Next week, I’ll zoom in on the parts of learning communities: the structures that hold everything together and make deep collaboration possible.

*Names have been changed to protect student identities.