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What Conditions Could Foster More Balanced School Experiences? Stability & Change in the Education System in China (Part 5)

Can the changing economic, political, and demographic conditions in China combine with growing concerns about students’ mental health and wellbeing to create a more balanced education system? Thomas Hatch explores this question in the final post in a series that shares his reflections on his conversations with Chinese educators and visits to Chinese schools over the past two years. The first post in this series explored some of the “niches of possibility” within the conventional Chinese curriculum and schedule that may foster the development of more student-centered approaches. The second post reviewed changes in educational policy in China that may have created some additional flexibility for schools to pursue innovative educational approaches and reinforced exam pressures at the same time. The third post discussed how one experimental school is trying to take advantage of AI to support students’ learning and development and the fourth considered recent efforts to respond to growing concerns about students’ mental health.

For other posts on education and educational change in China see “Boundless Learning in an Early Childhood Center in Shenzen, China;””Supporting healthy development of rural children in China: The Sunshine Kindergartens of the Beijing Western Sunshine Rural Development Foundation;” The Recent Development of Innovative Schools in China – An Interview with Zhe Zhang (Part 1 & Part 2);” “The Desire for Innovation is Always There: A Conversation with Yong Zhao on the Evolution of the Chinese Education System (Part 1 & Part 2);”“Surprise, Controversy, and the “Double Reduction Policy” in China;””Launching a New School in China: An Interview with Wen Chen from Moonshot Academy;”and ”New Gaokao in Zhejiang China: Carrying on with Challenges


The elite schools I visited in China demonstrate the kinds of innovative practices that can fit into the Chinese education system even with its exam-based focus and intense academic pressures. At the same time, the academic pressures continue to constrain any attempt to change instruction and spread more student-centered pedagogies on a wide scale. Although it seems that there may be no way out of the “trap” of increasing academic pressure, it’s also clear that the Chinese education systems has changed substantially over the past thirty years, in concert with significant developments in the demographic, economic, technological and political conditions in China.  These realities left me wondering: Could China leverage the changing societal conditions to create more balanced educational experiences for future generations of students?

Changing conditions in China over the past 30 years

In China, the massive expansion of education at every level, and particularly the growth in the number of university places could have helped to lessen some of the exam-based pressure on students. However, those developments took place along with the massive growth in the Chinese population to over 1.3 billion people by 2010. At the same time, almost 800 million people have lifted themselves out of poverty and China’s middle class, now the largest in the world, includes over 500 million people.  Even with the substantial increases in the number of colleges and universities, those developments mean that many more parents aspire to get their children into a handful of top institutions of higher education and many more students are competing for those limited places.

Further fueling the pressure is a substantial rural-urban divide, with students in rural areas experiencing much more difficult basic conditions and much less chance of getting a good education, getting a good score on the Gaokao, or getting into college. Although most villages had a primary school of some kind in the 1990’s, as birth rates fell and rural parents migrated to cities to take advantage of the economic opportunities, almost three-quarters of all primary schools – around 300,000 – were closed. As a consequence, some children have to travel long distances to school and others spend the school week at boarding schools, including what are estimated to be some 60 million “left-behind children” whose parents could not take them when they migrated to find work. As of 2015, there were about 100,000 boarding schools in rural China, with an estimated 33 million children living in them, including about 12% of primary school children and 50% of rural secondary school students. Crucially, the difficult conditions contribute to the gap between urban and rural students in high school completion and access to higher education. 

Recent changes in birth rates, employment, and college enrollment 

But conditions are changing again – fast. Births in China have now declined so much that the birth rate in 2023 was about half of what it was in 2015 only eight years earlier. The population decline in 2023 was also twice as large as it was in 2022, the first year the population dropped in 60 years. China’s economic growth has now slowed to one of its lowest rates in more than three decades; a real estate crisis has contributed to plunging house prices; and unemployment among youth has been so bad that in 2021 more than 70% of those 16 – 24 year-olds who were unemployed in Chinese cities had a college degree. By 2023, once the overall youth unemployment rate passed 21% China temporarily stopped reporting the figures. In 2024, with a new measure that excludes students, youth unemployment still stood at over 14%. At the same time, the expansion of higher education has continued while employment opportunities for post-secondary graduates have dropped. In 2024, only half of the 11.58 million graduates have gotten a job or gained admission to postgraduate study. Recognizing that problem, the Chinese government has encouraged universities to admit many more masters and doctoral students, leading enrollments in graduate programs to double between 2010 and 2021.

Number of total enrollments for graduate students (2010–2021). Graduate Education in China

Unfortunately, the glut of college graduates, in turn, has contributed to diminished job prospects for many of those who worked so hard for good grades and high scores on the Gaokao. As one researcher at China’s National Institute of Education Sciences put it, college graduates should lower their expectations and look for jobs in sectors such as food or parcel delivery; other reports claimed masters degree recipients were taking on jobs like trash collectors. These changing circumstances challenge the very idea that schools are a vehicle for upward social mobility As one joke puts it: “The mortgage is nearly 10 million, the spouse does not work, and the second child is studying abroad. This is simply the three things that will cause the middle class to fall back into poverty.” Given these developments, some researchers see a recent drop in the number of graduate school applicants as a “return to rationality” Perhaps, the latest generation of Chinese students are beginning to recognize that postgraduate study can no longer guarantee them a better job.  

Under these demographic and economic conditions, it’s possible to imagine scenarios where the seemingly inevitable increases in academic pressure and competition might subside somewhat. After years of urbanization that exacerbated the rural-urban gap in educational and economic prospects, a “reverse” migration and a redistribution of the population back to smaller cities and rural areas may be underway. Rural – urban migration had already slowed down before the COVID pandemic, and China’s statistics bureau reported that there were almost two and a half million fewer migrant workers in urban areas in 2021 than there were in 2019, with more migrants staying closer to home. That reversal has been aided by the development of the digital economy and opportunities for remote work as well as by longstanding restrictions that make it difficult, if not impossible for migrant workers to access housing, schooling for their children, and other benefits.  

Since 2012, the Chinese leadership has also made reducing the gap between urban and rural development a priority, and the government has supported investment in rural areas through a variety of policies. In 2015, for example, the General Office of the State Council of China issued the “Opinions on Supporting Migrant Workers and Others Returning to their Hometowns to Start Their Own Business” to encourage migrant workers, college students, and retired soldiers to return to their hometowns to start new businesses. in 2017 those efforts took off with the announcement of a “rural revitalization” strategy. That strategy seeks to make China self-sufficient in terms of food production and consumption and focuses on modernizing agriculture and rural areas by 2035. Policies and investments are designed to accomplish critical tasks like ensuring the grain supply, developing high-quality rural industries, increasing farmers’ incomes, and fostering a beautiful countryside. The strategy is encouraging a generation of “’new farmers,’ mostly well-educated young people with new ideas and skills,” to move from big cities to the countryside. In 2021, 1.6 million more people returned to the countryside than in 2019, with the government reporting that more than half of the entrepreneurial projects it supported focused on using livestreaming and other online methods to sell products. 

Taken together, these changes could encourage many more students and their families to stay where they are and to take advantage of the massive growth in higher education outside the major cities. With a decreasing population more distributed around the country there could be fewer students competing for an expanded number of places in colleges and universities. At the same time, if more youth recognize that academic competition is not yielding the access to elite universities or job prospects that previous generations expected – and they see that more studying does not necessarily lead to better results – academic pressure could subside further. 

New developments in curriculum, technology, and assessment?

A new set of curriculum standards and new textbooks may also help to fuel this shift, providing a policy context that can encourage many schools to pursue more student-centered learning. As one description of the changes put it, beginning in 2024 with the initial introduction of new textbooks, “compulsory education will enter a new era in which new curriculum standards, new textbooks, and new classrooms are mutually compatible, from the past ‘educating for scores’ and ‘educating for abilities’ to the comprehensive deepening of ‘educating people.’”

The new curriculum and textbooks continue to highlight the learning of subjects but promote a change in focus from “fragmented class objectives” to more integrated and systematic unit objectives, a new emphasis on the transfer and application of knowledge, and a transition from “practicing questions to solving problems.” The math textbook, for example, has added two “mini-projects” for each semester that are supposed to take up at least 3 lessons. The changes in the English textbooks create another niche of possibility for more interdisciplinary and student-centered learning by spending less time on grammar and organizing each unit around theme-based projects. Changes being made in the questions for the Gaokao to focus more on applications of knowledge and on problem-solving rather than on memorization could play an important part in this shift. 

Technological developments could also facilitate the development and spread of innovative practices by facilitating more personalized learning experiences and contributing to more powerful assessments. Although these new technologies and AI could be used to teach students more and more traditional content and skills more quickly, they could also help to make conventional instruction much more efficient. As the efforts of the teachers at the Suzhou Experimental Primary School demonstrated, AI could also create more space and time for student-centered learning experiences and to support the development of a much wider range of interests and abilities and student wellbeing. Of course, such technological development in schools depends on close cooperation between AI and tech companies and Chinese schools as well as the Chinese government’s continuing efforts to support digitization of schools and teaching in remote rural areas. 

As I have argued in “The power of condensing the curriculum,” all of these demographic, economic, political, technological and educational changes could create the opportunity and incentives to reduce the time spent on exam preparation and create more balanced school experiences. All of these are enormous “if’s,” however. Predicting generational attitudes, in particular, is far from an exact science and certainly not something to count on. As Yong Zhao, a well-known expert on educational change and China told me in my interview with him before my first trip, “China will not drop the Gaokao,” and taking the “tang ping” route for many is a risk that could have consequences like social isolation, diminished economic potential, and a lower standard of living. 

A perfect storm or just another typhoon? Changing society, changing beliefs, changing schools

In the end, real changes in the academic pressure, and expanding support for a wider range of abilities and student mental health and wellbeing in China, as in the US and education systems, depends on the “perfect storm” of changes in education policies, technologies, economic and demographic conditions, and changes in the deep-seated values and beliefs that sustain conventional school practices. 

As important as the Gaokao may be, by the time I left China I was convinced that the Gaokao is just an expression and manifestation of a basic belief that those who score the highest, those who work the hardest, deserve the riches they accumulate. In that sense, China may not be that different from the United States, where that same kind of belief in individual achievement sustains a highly inequitable system and the conventional modes of instruction and schooling it relies on. 

As Daniel Markovitz argues in The Meritocracy Trap, in the US, success in school and in life is generally seen as a product of an individual’s talent and effort. Similarly, failure – in terms of poor grades, the inability to get into a good college, get a good job, or make a good living – is often cast as a personal failing rather than a manifestation of systemic inequalities. From this perspective, those who score high on exams, secure admission to an elite college, become CEO’s or make billions of dollars deserve the rewards and riches they have attained. My conversations with many of my colleagues and many students in China seemed to echo these beliefs, as they noted that competitions and rankings, including the Gaokao, provide the best way to identify those who will be most successful despite the pressure and the problems it produces. Those beliefs also contribute to an internalization of failure and feelings of shame, with many students worrying that with poor performance in school or on the Gaokao they are letting their families down. 

Changing any education system depends on understanding the complex interplay of historical, geographic, demographic, economic, political, and cultural conditions that produced the schools, policies, and practices that operate today. But it also means confronting those conditions, while embroiled in them. We can look for leverage and open up opportunities for people to expand their views, question their values and beliefs, and develop alternative points of view that might support the emergence of new institutions, structures, and practices over time.  Perhaps these generational changes can support the emergence of a hybrid “East/West” approach to education that provides a better balance between a focus on academic achievement the development of a wider range of skills and students’ wellbeing.  

Could concerns about the academic pressure on students in China lead to real changes in conventional schooling? Stability & change in the education system in China (Part 4)

Can growing concerns about students’ mental health and wellbeing support the emergence of educational practices that combine a focus on academics with more student-centered pedagogies? In the fourth post of this five-part series, Thomas Hatch explores this question, prompted by his conversations with Chinese educators and visits to schools and universities in Beijing, Ningbo, and Dongguan. The first post in this series described the “niches of possibility” within the conventional Chinese curriculum and schedule where innovative schools are developing more student-centered approaches even within a heavily exam-based system. The second post discussed some of the changes in educational policies and regulations that created some flexibility within the system but may have contributed to academic pressures as well. The third post shared some examples of how teachers in a primary school in China are using AI to support students’ learning and engagement. The final post will discuss what can be learned from the ways that the Chinese education system has evolved over the past twenty-five years and how future changes could allow for the emergence of more student-centered instructional practices and more support for students’ wellbeing.

For other posts on education and educational change in China see “Boundless Learning in an Early Childhood Center in Shenzen, China;””Supporting healthy development of rural children in China: The Sunshine Kindergartens of the Beijing Western Sunshine Rural Development Foundation;” The Recent Development of Innovative Schools in China – An Interview with Zhe Zhang (Part 1 & Part 2);” “The Desire for Innovation is Always There: A Conversation with Yong Zhao on the Evolution of the Chinese Education System (Part 1 & Part 2);”“Surprise, Controversy, and the “Double Reduction Policy” in China;””Launching a New School in China: An Interview with Wen Chen from Moonshot Academy;”and ”New Gaokao in Zhejiang China: Carrying on with Challenges


When I arrived in China for the first time in May of 2025, it was already clear that education in China has changed, in numerous ways, both in the last 40 years and just in the last few years as well. As I detailed in the second post in this series, those changes have included the achievement of near universal enrollment through lower secondary school, dramatic increases in the number of students enrolling in college, and new policies and practices governing the Gaokao itself. But I heard over and over again that even with the many changes students today face significantly more academic pressure that previous generations. In the end, I’m left wondering: can the seemingly ever-increasing academic pressure in China increase demands – and opportunities – for developing a balanced education system that supports academic development as well as students’ overall wellbeing?

Academic pressure in China has gotten worse: The rise of “neijuan” and “tang ping”

I had only been in China a few days when several colleagues told me about the growth in the use of the terms “juan” and “tang ping.” “Juan,” when used in “Huā Juǎn/花卷” means “roll” as in a steamed bun known as a flower roll. But in recent years “juan” has been used to suggest that a person is being rolled in a washing machine the way we in the West might talk about being caught up “in the rat race,” constantly running like a rat on a spinning wheel. Yi-Ling Liu, writing in the New Yorker in 2021, linked the growth in the use of the term to a video showing a student from one of the top universities in China riding his bicycle and looking at his laptop at the same time. 

When I looked up “juan” online, I found a series of stories that explained that the term “nei juan” — represented by the characters for “inside” and “rolling” (内卷) and translated in English as “involution” – emerged as one the most popular Chinese words of 2020. The Chinese anthropologist Xiang Biao describes involution as a process of curling inward that can be considered the opposite of “evolution.” As he puts it, “neijuan” as an “endless cycle of self-flagellation,” in which people are trapped in a competition that everyone knows is meaningless. 

For students, it means that getting a high score on the Gaokao is not enough. It means that they also have to compete to get the highest possible grade point average and the most extensive resume. As explained in GPA is king: The prisoner’s dilemma for young people at China’s top universities: “Whether you can learn something or whether it is within your own interests is no longer the only evaluation criteria for engaging in activities. Its value on the resume must be considered. Therefore, this has become a kind of ‘roll’. In order not to fall behind classmates and fall into passivity, everyone has to fill their resumes as much as possible.” 

Over roughly the same period, the growth of the usage of “tang ping (躺平),” – translated literally as “lying flat” – represents a response to the pressure and the endless competition.  Supposedly, the movement began with a post on a social media site in April of 2021 where the user announced: “Lying flat is my wise movement. Only by lying down can humans become the measure of all things.” Since then, the use of “tang ping” has grown on social media as well, including in a series of posts in 2023 in which college graduates were photographed sprawled out in their commencement regalia. 

Photos from Chinese students graduating from college in 2023 Chinese college grads are ‘zombie-style’ on campus. Here’s why. Washington Post

In “China’s young ‘lie flat’ under social challenges,” Yao-Yuan Yeh explains that the term “describes the generations born in the late 1990s and 2000s who, disappointed by their lack of social mobility and economic stagnation, have decided not to strive for their futures.” One worker who embraced the term was quoted as saying: “According to the mainstream standard, a decent lifestyle must include working hard, trying to get good results on work evaluations, striving to buy a home and a car, and making babies. However, I loaf around on the job whenever I can, refusing to work overtime, not worrying about promotions, and not participating in corporate drama.”  

Interpretations of “tang ping” vary, however.  Some I spoke to used it to imply that students who checked out of classes or group activities were lazy or entitled and unwilling to do the work required of others. But “tang ping” also refers to those who drop out or disengage more as a form of resistance, a refusal to participate in the “roll” and “rat race” and all that they entail. Perhaps reflecting both interpretations at once, one survey of a nationally representative sample of adults in China found that, in general, “tang-ping related behaviors” were considered morally wrong, but they were considerable acceptable in scenarios where there was a low expectation that effort would be rewarded (such as working in a company that promised to pay performance bonuses but rarely did). 

Could growing concerns about student’s mental health and wellbeing create a better balance in Chinese schools?

Taken together, “neijuan” and “tang ping” illustrate an impossible choice for Chinese students – join in the endless competition for academic achievement or drop out and lie flat – without any guarantee that either will lead to a better life. Could this impossible choice propel innovation? Already, these growing pressures have contributed to the double reduction policy and greater attention to mental health. 

Although many parents in China have been reluctant to recognize or discuss problems of mental health, a widely cited survey from the Chinese Academy of Sciences in 2021 revealed that almost one out of four teenagers report depressive symptoms and a professor at the institute, Chen Zhiyan, said over one hundred studies over the past two decades reveal that mental health has gotten worse. A more recent survey from a Chinese think tank in 2023 also found that 26% of secondary school students said they have depressive symptoms once a week, 15% report symptoms twice a week or more. Media reports have also stated that over 7 million children between 4 and 16 suffer from mental or behavioral conditions and estimated that nearly 100,000 minors died from suicide annually. Anecdotally, clinics also report increased visits and hospitalizations, and an emergency psychological consultation hotline in Shanghai has seen a sharp rise in calls from students as well as parents seeking help for their children. 

In response, in 2020, the Chinese government introduced “depression assessments” as part of mandatory health screenings for high school students, and in 2021, the Chinese Ministry of Education issued a directive to strengthen professional support and scientific management, and strive to improve students’ mental health literacy.” Following that directive, the education authority in Beijing required primary and middle schools to incorporate mental health education in their curricula and to hire at least one dedicated counselor to address students’ psychological needs. In 2023, China established a National Advisory Committee for Students’ Mental Health to be “responsible for research, consultation, monitoring, evaluation, and scientific popularization of mental health work in universities, middle schools and primary schools across the country.” In addition, an official from the Chinese Ministry of Education declared “The whole of society has reached a consensus to strengthen the mental health education of students,” and the Ministry announced a series of guidelines to safeguard the mental health of young people. Key steps include:

  • Primary and secondary schools have to have at least one full-time or part-time teacher on mental health and universities are required to have at least two full-time psychology teachers.
  • Primary and secondary schools are encouraged to incorporate psychology courses into their curriculum, and universities are required to have compulsory courses on psychological health.
  • Counties need to conduct psychological evaluations at least once a year and establish mental health records for students from the senior levels of primary school and beyond, and universities are also expected to conduct mental health evaluations of all new students. 

The guidelines also reiterated key aims of the earlier double reduction policy and declared that “effective measures should be taken” to reduce homework and tutoring and to ensure students have two hours of physical exercise daily. The guidelines also noted that to ensure implementation, “students’ mental health will be taken into account when evaluating the work of provincial governments and administrators of all levels of schools.” As with changes to the Gaokao and the double reduction policies, the question is whether or not the pressure to change continues to grow.  Will the desire to support youth mental health and wellbeing continue to spread? Will educators and policymakers take advantage of this window of opportunity and extend and deepen these initial efforts? 

Next week – What Conditions Could Foster a More Balanced Education System? Stability & Change in the Education System in China (Part 5)

Beyond Metrics: Rehumanizing Educational Change Through Engaged Scholarship with Dr. Olajumoke Beulah Adigun

In January’s Lead the Change (LtC) interview Dr. Olajumoke Beulah Adigun argues that academia must move away from speed and metric driven cultures and toward slow, engaged, and contextually grounded scholarship that prioritizes sustained transformation over superficial change. Dr. Adigun is an assistant professor of Educational Leadership at Oklahoma State University The LtC series is produced by co-editors Dr. Soobin Choi and Dr. Jackie Pedota and their colleagues at the Educational Change Special Interest Group of the American Educational Research Association. A PDF of the fully formatted interview will be available on the LtC website.

Lead the Change (LtC): The 2026 AERA Annual Meeting theme is “Unforgetting Histories and Imagining Futures: Constructing a New Vision for Educational Research.” This theme calls us to consider how to leverage our diverse knowledge and experiences to engage in futuring for education and education research, involving looking back to remember our histories so that we can look forward to imagine better futures. What steps are you taking, or do you plan to take, to heed this call? 

Dr. Olajumoke Beulah Adigun (OBA): There was a time when a researcher’s identity was defined not by a multiplicity of publications but by work that formatively altered the quality of life for communities. This is a historical dimension of our work that we need to ‘unforget,’ and it speaks directly to AERA’s 2026 theme. The reason this matters is simple: it is difficult to be preoccupied with hurried scholarship while being present with the slow and often-messy work of transformation. This is a salient point in Amutuhaire’s work (2022), which makes a compelling argument that the ‘publish or perish’ culture is perpetuating inequality in academia while undermining the potential generative impact of scholarship in resource-poor regions, where solutions to development problems matter more than publication counts. We have tried the hurried approach, and while it has produced more motion in the policy and politics of education, it has yielded less progress in sustaining outcomes. In the article “Over-Optimization of Academic Publishing Metrics,” Fire and Guestrin (2019) highlight that although publishing metrics continue to rise, their substantive value has significantly diminished. Drawing on Goodhart’s law, they illustrate how these metrics lose meaning when manipulated through practices such as self-citation and inflated reference lists. Furthermore, data show that in 2023 alone, over 10,000 research papers were retracted globally due to issues related to accuracy and integrity (Tran, 2025), underscoring how an emphasis on speed creates a metaphorical chasm that invites errors and potential gamification.

Olajumoke Beulah Adigun, PhD

Boyer’s (1996) scholarship of engagement offers a useful frame for understanding the gap in the field of educational change: the problem is not a lack of knowledge, but the failure to translate knowledge into lived reality.  This perspective resonates with the slow knowledge argument against the counterproductive acceleration of the process of inquiry (Berg & Seeber, 2016). In the realm of slow knowledge, the journey towards knowledge acquisition honors both the process and the outcome. It recognizes that it takes time to master the conditions within which knowledge can be successfully applied (Orr, 1996). When it’s all said and done, knowledge needs to be contextualized, adapted, and sustained long enough to produce enduring change (Adams et al., 2022). We can also think of this as an invitation to recenter the transformative focus of our change work. If transformation is defined by sustained change, we need to come to terms with the fact that sustaining change requires time for it to be tested, to mature, and to develop a life of its own, allowing its sustainability to become more autonomous than forced. This aligns with design-based implementation research, which emphasizes that knowledge should be generated within the contexts where it will be applied (Penuel et al., 2011).

My response to the AERA 2026 call has been to fundamentally rethink how I prepare educational leaders, challenging both myself and my students to move from propositions to praxis, from eloquent narratives to actual doing. In a recent course, Instructional Strategies for Adults, rather than requiring papers containing propositions of what well-designed adult instruction should be, my students used real data to design a professional development website, which we called a workshop-in-a-box. They spent each week developing sections grounded in scholarly evidence while applying them to real-world adult learning needs in their respective contexts. With this approach, rather than students telling me what they would do, they did it. At the end of this class, students reported feeling more prepared for real-world leadership challenges, with several already sharing their plans for implementing their designs in their districts. They felt proud of their work, saying they designed the kind of professional development they would want to attend, even though they lacked a frame for articulating it before the class.

This andragogical shift also mirrors my research process. My earlier work relied primarily on quantitative, ex post facto data to examine and understand patterns in various constructs of interest in education. This work has yielded important insights and continues to inform my scholarship. Somewhere along the way, as my colleagues and I began working on the Transformative Leadership Conversations framework (Adams et al., 2022), I became increasingly attentive to the value of applied research in the work we do. When I started my appointment as an assistant professor at Oklahoma State University, the invitation to lead the existing ECHO Education Nigeria initiative emerged at a particularly timely moment, offering both a challenge and an opportunity to make my scholarly engagement more expansive through applied inquiry. Working alongside both scholar and practitioner colleagues, we are implementing and learning how sound theoretical propositions about virtual professional development transfer to those serving in under-resourced environments. ECHO Education Nigeria is a virtual professional development platform that supports educator learning and growth, while promoting collaboration among educators across Nigeria and neighboring African countries. This work, though slow, has been productive and has led to a feature on the Project ECHO website highlighting our efforts to expand the applicability of the framework in a new context.

This shift represents my commitment to unforgetting what education and education research once were: embedded processes of learning, doing, unlearning, relearning, and redoing. I am imagining a future where education research is an actual search process, a slow but deeply meaningful engagement with reality that bridges the gap between knowing and transformation.

Lead the Change (LtC): What are some key lessons that practitioners and scholars might take from your work to foster better educational systems for all students?

OBA: Three lessons emerge from this work that I believe can guide practitioners and scholars in the field of educational change. First, we must recalibrate our aim from change to transformation, which simply means enduring change. Educational systems are saturated with change initiatives, yet transformation remains elusive. The distinction matters because change can be episodic and surface-level, but transformation aims at well-saturated and sustained change that produces a new system of outcomes. In my work with teachers in Nigeria, I witnessed how professional development that merely introduced new practices faded quickly, while approaches that allowed time for adaptation, testing, and iteration became the lifeblood of the work. We can think of transformation as the unforced rhythms of change; it must be cultivated with patience and sustained through commitment. This requires us to resist the pressure for quick wins and instead invest in the slow, and often unsensational work.

Second, the quality of our work matters more than the quantity. This is particularly challenging in an academic culture that rewards productivity metrics over meaningful impact. Yet when I observe my students designing professional development they themselves would want to attend, or when I see Nigerian teachers responding to our adaptation of the ECHO framework in ways we never imagined, I am reminded that one piece of deeply contextualized, genuinely useful work is worth the time and effort it takes. I see this same pattern in my work with one of the largest fatherhood support organizations in Oklahoma (Birthright Living Legacy), where a simple evidence-based curriculum I developed for a small network of fathers five years ago has now become a flagship programming element providing training and guided action for hundreds of fathers across the state (Adigun, 2020; 2022). I would argue that our institutions, promotion systems, and funding mechanisms need to be reimagined around permission structures that value depth, rigor, and impact over volume and speed.

Third, and most critically, learning is fundamentally reciprocal. As practitioners and scholars, we take learning to people, but we cannot successfully produce transfer without learning from those we serve about what makes knowledge work (or not) in each unique context. They have just as much to teach us as we have to teach them. My Nigerian colleagues taught me more about adaptive leadership, resourcefulness, and instructional creativity than any textbook could convey. They showed me which theoretical propositions held up under resource constraints, and which required radical reimagining. When we noticed a decline in attendance at our virtual sessions, we reached out to participants to understand the reasons behind this trend. We discovered that while interest remained high, many participants struggled with reliable internet connectivity. However, we also learned that connectivity was more affordable and dependable when they used specific platforms, such as WhatsApp. With this insight, we decided to break our live sessions into bite-sized, low-data video segments and upload them to the WhatsApp group. This adjustment led to a reassuring resurgence in participant attendance and engagement, bringing back a much-needed momentum to the work. This example makes clear that reciprocity is not just ethically right; it is methodologically essential. If we approach communities as recipients rather than co-creators of knowledge and the knowledge delivery process, we will continue to produce research that looks elegant on paper but fails in practice. These lessons converge on a call for patience, genuine partnership, and humility as we press towards educational change.

Lead the Change (LtC): What do you see the field of Educational Change heading, and where do you find hope for this field for the future?

OBA: I see the field of educational change heading toward a more transformational stance. What I mean by this is that the field will not only be about changing the formal systems of education, but also about the community-embedded reach of the work. Further, the accelerated pace of knowledge introduced by non-human automation, such as AI, obliges the field to move into innovative ways of doing what we do. With this reality at the forefront, we are compelled to dig deep rather than simply reach wide. We are compelled to rehumanize our work, making it an endeavor by humans, with humans, and for humans. Collaboration will become the new superpower, and contextual applicability will be the new genius.

I find hope in this field for the future because people are beginning to ask the right questions. It is no longer a secret that speed and volume are not producing the kinds of results we want; therefore, we are compelled to be open to other means. It is also no secret that the tyranny of performative scholarship (Fire & Guestrin, 2019) has created much unhealth in our profession. I see funding agencies beginning to value implementation science and community-partnered research. I see perspectives like slow knowledge gaining traction, and I see intentional collaborations that center reciprocity.

My deepest hope lies in the rising generation of scholar-practitioners who refuse to separate knowing from doing, who insist that research be accountable to the communities it claims to serve, and who are willing to do the slow, messy work of transformation. These emerging scholars understand that in an age of AI and information abundance, our unique contribution as humans is not speed, but wisdom. The kind that comes from sustained presence, deep listening, and genuine partnership. If we can create the conditions for this kind of work to flourish, the field of educational change will not only survive but thrive.