I was excellent at school.
I want to be clear about what that means, because I spent years not being clear about it. I was excellent at reading what the system wanted and delivering it. I knew which teachers liked what kind of answer. I knew when to speak and when to stay quiet. I knew how to present compliance as engagement and coasting as capability.
I was very, very good at performing inside an institution.
And for a long time I confused that with being educated.
It took me most of my twenties to discover who I was without an external system telling me what to do and how well I was doing it. Nobody had taught me to create direction for myself. Nobody had needed to. The system had always provided the direction. When it stopped providing it, I had nothing.
That's not education. That's schooling. And the distinction matters enormously.
What schooling is
Schooling is a system designed to produce a specific kind of person: one who can follow instructions, organise themselves within structures they didn't create, demonstrate competence against standardised criteria, and move through a sequence of stages on a predictable timeline.
That isn't a criticism. Those capacities are genuinely useful. A society needs people who can do those things. The system was built for a purpose and it achieves it.
The problem is the confusion between what the system was built for and what education is.
Education is broader, older, and ultimately more important. Education is the development of a human being into their full capacity: the ability to think, to create, to choose, to know oneself, to adapt, to persist, to contribute something that matters. Education is what happens when a person becomes genuinely more capable of navigating life.
Schooling can support education. It can also obstruct it. Whether it supports or obstructs depends enormously on the child and the school and the family and the year.
The apple tree keeps bearing apples. That's what it was built for. Expecting it to produce oranges because you've decided you need oranges will only frustrate everyone.
Where the stress comes from
Most of the stress I see in families around education comes from this confusion.
Parents who are doing everything right and still feel like something's missing are almost always confusing the two. They've optimised for the system, found the best version of the system available to them, and then been surprised that their child still isn't developing the qualities they actually care about.
Because the qualities they actually care about aren't what the system is built for.
When I ask parents what they want their children to learn, they always say: to be curious, to be resilient, to know what they love, to be able to handle difficulty, to care about something. Not one parent in years of asking has said: to score well on standardised assessments. Not one.
And yet they're directing enormous energy toward the thing they don't say they want, and wondering why the thing they do say they want isn't growing.
What becomes possible when the distinction is clear
Once you understand that schooling and education are not the same thing, you stop expecting the school to provide everything. And that's freeing.
The school does what it does. It's a specific tool. Useful for some things, not useful for others. You can use it without expecting it to be something it isn't.
And then you can ask: what needs to happen outside the system? What foundational capacities does my child need that no school is built to develop? What am I responsible for as a parent that I've been accidentally outsourcing?
Those questions are useful. They lead somewhere.
The distinction doesn't make schooling the enemy. It makes it one piece of a picture rather than the whole picture. And that's a much more workable place to be.
Ready to understand the difference?
The 7 Seeds framework maps the foundational capacities that education requires, beyond what schooling provides. The July 2026 workshop is where to start.
Find out about the workshop →