As a new school year begins, it's tempting to push for immediate progress—but true learning often happens when we step back and give space to grow. This article explores how both students and teachers thrive when given the safety, autonomy, and time to take their own first steps.

With summer ending, schools across the country are gearing up for a whole new year of learning and exploring with their students. However, during a family vacation to Kauai this summer, I found myself reflecting on how learning happens in the most unexpected places, like the kiddie pool!

One afternoon, while lounging at the pool, I watched a young couple with their baby daughter surrounded by three eager grandparents. You could tell this was one of the baby’s first pool experiences—the adults surrounded her with toys, encouragement, and applause, all coaxing her to stand in the shallow water. The more they urged her, the more hesitant the baby became, clinging to the steps as her safe space.

After about ten minutes, another grandparent finally arrived at the pool. He took one look at the scene and simply said, “You’re all crowding her!” Everyone laughed, myself included—but I also knew he was right. At that moment, it struck me: learning isn’t about constant prodding. Sometimes, the most powerful support is giving someone the space to take their own first step.

The same is true for our students and teachers!

If we want our students and teachers to be resilient learners, we need to give them the space to be curious and experiment with new learning without constant coaxing or pressure. Just like the little girl, who clung to the pool’s steps for safety, our students and teachers need to feel safe to acquire new learning. Even with the best intentions in mind, if prodded too much, students and teachers will shut down. That’s why there needs to be a clear line between support and the quiet allowance of autonomy.

So how can we provide safe places for learning? For students, that means giving them time to tinker, experiment, and fail safely. From my time as an instructional coach, one of the biggest challenges I noticed in classrooms was encouraging kids to take risks. Too often, students were afraid to answer questions or attempt problems for fear of failure. Unfortunately, we’ve created a learning culture that doesn’t embrace failure.

Learning is hard—and it should be. Students need to understand that when learning feels hard, it’s a sign they are growing and acquiring new knowledge. That’s why we need classrooms and schools that feel safe to fail. Let kids explore, wonder, and ask questions. It’s the only way we can help them grow into resilient learners.

As for teachers, the same holds true—they also need to feel safe. Teachers need space to process, explore, and try new practices without the pressure of judgment. Over my 18+ years in education, I’ve seen the same pattern repeat itself: district leaders deliver a great professional development, and teachers leave energized and excited. But too often, the transition from theory to practice falls short. Whether it’s the lack of implementation support, the push for immediate results, or waning excitement, the momentum fades.

Instead of searching for instant impact in student growth, we need to shift our focus to instructor impact. Ask yourself: What do teachers need for this to become common practice?

So how can we make this happen? For district leaders, it starts with building school cultures that provide space for curiosity, normalize exploration over perfection, and balance support with autonomy. This doesn’t mean withholding feedback, but being intentional about what the feedback should achieve. Above all, leading with empathy. Share an exemplar lesson plan teachers can use, then invite them at the next staff meeting to reflect on how it went, what worked, and what didn’t. This kind of approach fosters curiosity, exploration, and the conditions teachers need to grow.

The same goes for our students: create classrooms where they can explore without the rush to rescue them. Embrace wait time, and when support is needed, provide scaffolds that guide rather than give away the answer—that’s the true art of teaching. Don’t forget to celebrate small wins, too. Even if students don’t get it “right,” honor their problem-solving and unique ways of thinking. After all, our goal is to help them learn how to learn—and that won’t happen if we continue to crowd and overwhelm them.

Remember the little girl in the pool? While her family saw success as stepping fully into the water, her success was simply standing on the steps. Learning is a process, and often the best support we can give is stepping back. True growth takes time, space, and patience. As we begin the 2025–2026 school year, let’s lead with empathy and honor the journeys our students and teachers are taking. In the end, even standing on the step is still a step toward growth.

About the Author:

Mannu is an experienced educational professional with a demonstrated history in both instructional and leadership roles. She is a former intermediate teacher, interventionist, and instructional coach. Her areas of strength include project management, instructional coaching, educational technology, and school-wide instructional planning. Mannu is also an ASCD Emerging Leader, Class of 2019.