Why We’re Becoming "The HIVE"
- Angela Langlands
- Jan 6
- 5 min read
Updated: 2 days ago

Words matter.
They shape how people understand the work, how teams talk about it, and how much possibility they allow themselves to imagine. For years, I’ve used the phrase learning communities to describe the work I support in schools. And while it still holds meaning, it no longer holds enough and is not clear enough for the work.
Because what we’re building is bigger than a community.
As we step into 2026, it’s time to name that clearly.
(Professional) Learning Communities Were the Beginning
Don't get me wrong, Professional Learning Communities matter.
At their best, PLCs bring educators together in collaborative groups that meet regularly to improve teaching practice and strengthen student learning. They create space for teachers to learn together, analyze student data, share expertise, and develop common strategies. They shift thinking and promote collective responsibility for learner success through inquiry and action.
That work is important.
PLCs helped schools break out of isolation. They legitimized collaboration. They gave teachers permission to talk openly about students, practice, and impact. For many schools, they were a necessary first step away from silos.
But over time, something became clear to me.
For most schools, the PLC is where collaboration stops.
Teachers meet.
They plan together.
They discuss students.
They share strategies.
And then they return to their "own" classrooms to carry the work alone.
PLCs often generate strong ideas about how students could be supported, but they rarely redesign the system deeply enough for educators to co-teach, co-assess, or co-support all learners in real time. The responsibility is still individual, even when the thinking is collective.
The HIVE begins where PLCs reach their limit.
The HIVE is not a place where teachers meet to talk about students.
It is a learning ecosystem where adults and students work together inside shared structures that make collaboration visible, sustainable, and actionable.
In a HIVE, educators do not just discuss strategies. They enact them together.
Planning leads to shared instruction.
Analysis leads to shared assessment.
Concern leads to shared support.
Collaboration is no longer something educators schedule. It is something the system is designed to require and sustain.
This is why learning communities, while essential, are no longer enough language for the work I support.
Because what I see in thriving schools is not a stronger PLC.
It is a shift in how learning is designed, how responsibility is distributed, and how adults and students move together through the day.
That is the moment when community evolves into creation.
Community Is Connection. The HIVE Is Creation.
A community connects people. A HIVE activates them.
Across the natural world, social species survive and thrive because they work together. Bees, ants, wolves, and even elephants rely on cooperation, communication, and shared responsibility. They protect one another. They adapt when conditions change. They respond to what the group needs in the moment.
No one does everything.
No one is replaceable.
And no one succeeds alone.
In a hive, every role matters. Contributions look different, but the purpose is shared. Strengths are distributed. Support is constant and visible. The system holds because the individuals trust one another and the work they are doing together.
A HIVE is not quiet.
It is not linear.
And it is not controlled from the top down.
It is responsive. Intelligent. Alive.
That is what I see when learning communities truly take root. They stop functioning as a collection of individual classrooms and begin operating as a living ecosystem. Adults communicate instinctively. Students move with confidence. Space, time, and expertise flex to meet real needs.
HIVE—a Human, Interconnected, Values-Driven Ecosystem—is what happens when connection evolves into creation, when collaboration becomes culture. When belonging fuels growth.
This is no longer just about working together.
It’s about building something that can sustain, adapt, and thrive.
The HIVE Is an Ecosystem, Not a Structure
When schools reach this stage, they stop asking, “How do we organize teachers?” and start asking, “How does learning move?”
Students flow between spaces.
Teachers lean into strengths.
Support staff are woven into the fabric, not pulled in after the fact.
Data is shared, not guarded.
Decisions are made with clarity because the “why” is collective.
This isn’t a program you install. It’s an ecosystem you grow.
And ecosystems don’t thrive on compliance. They thrive on trust, interdependence, and shared responsibility.
Why the Shift Matters Now
Education doesn’t need another initiative.
It needs a new way of seeing itself.
Calling this work a “learning community” sometimes keeps it safely small. Manageable. Optional. Contained.
The HIVE is none of those things.
The HIVE asks bigger questions:
How do adults design learning together?
How do systems support learners and educators, not just outcomes?
How do we stop asking individuals to carry what was never meant to be carried alone?
The HIVE reframes leadership from control to cultivation.
It reframes teaching from delivery to design.
It reframes school from a collection of classrooms to a living system of collaboration, communication, and shared purpose.
What This Means for My Work
This shift isn’t cosmetic.
It’s clarifying.
The HIVE represents the work I’ve been doing all along—helping schools move beyond collaboration as a strategy and toward collaboration as culture.
It means:
Designing ecosystems, not schedules
Building shared language, not just shared plans
Supporting courage, not compliance
Honoring complexity instead of simplifying it away
It means saying clearly: this work is about how schools live and breathe, not just how they organize time and space.
What This Means for Schools
If you’re ready to step into this shift, The HIVE invites you to reflect honestly:
Where are we still operating as individuals instead of as an interconnected system?
Whose strengths remain untapped or underutilized?
Where are we asking people to cope rather than intentionally designing support?
What could change if responsibility, trust, and ownership were truly shared?
The HIVE isn’t about doing more.
It’s about doing together... with clarity, purpose, and intention.
Why This Is the Right Moment
2026 doesn’t need gentle nudges.
With AI reshaping how learning happens, global systems shifting, and long-standing educational structures under visible strain, it’s time for education to redesign for the future — not defend the past.
Students and teachers need clarity. Courage. Coherence.
The HIVE names the truth I see in schools that are truly thriving:
No one succeeds alone.
No one is invisible.
And no one is meant to carry this work by themselves.
So this year, I’m naming the work for what it has become.
Not just a community.
An ecosystem.
A living, learning HIVE.

And if you’re ready to build it, let’s connect. I’m here to help.




Comments