A flourishing child isn’t merely high-performing or well-behaved. They’re curious, purposeful, connected, and resilient. They wake with a sense of meaning and purpose bigger than themselves, work toward goals that matter, and contribute to others’ good. They are connected to themselves – mind, body, and spirit – and to nature. They think for themselves, care about others, bounce back from setbacks, and keep going when it’s hard.

Across schools, families, and states that my team and I’ve worked with, flourishing grows when young people feel care, competence, and control. They need caring relationships that create psychological safety; real chances to demonstrate competence through meaningful work; and a sense of control over their time, goals, and growth. Human flourishing and self-directed learning are two sides of the same coin.

When these conditions are present, learners grow into adults who can lead their own lives – and contribute meaningfully to democracy and community life. Without them, we risk raising dependent learners: people trained to comply, not to think; to wait for direction, not to initiate; to consume, not to create. That dependency shows up beyond school walls – in workplaces that crave self-starters but find few, in citizens vulnerable to misinformation, and in young adults anxious about decisions without a clear rubric. A flourishing child is not only the goal of good schooling – it’s the foundation of a flourishing democracy.

Research confirms the skills of self-direction can be learned. My colleague Dr. Caleb Collier and I describe a four-phase developmental pathway: desire, resourcefulness, initiative, and persistence. Desire connects to belonging and purpose – why I care beyond myself. Resourcefulness gathers information, tests evidence, and discerns truth. Initiative acts on conviction rather than waiting for permission. Persistence sustains engagement through difficulty – essential for deep learning, democratic participation, and workplace success. When schools intentionally design for this progression, learners think critically, collaborate across differences, and practice acting for the common good.

Flourishing is not a mood. It’s a set of civic and personal habits that can be cultivated. Motivation, autonomy, and meaning activate the brain’s learning networks more powerfully than external control. Over-structuring and constant adult direction suppress curiosity, empathy, and judgment – the very muscles democracy and workforce development depend on. The deeper crisis in education isn’t low test scores; it’s low agency. If we want a culture of innovation, civic strength, and broad-based opportunity, we must teach the skills of self-leadership early and often.

Across learning environments making this shift, a pattern emerges: when children are trusted to take ownership, they rise.

Take Elin, a fourth-grader who dreams of writing a series of stories in worlds she designs. Early drafts were sprawling and unfocused. Over time, she learned to set milestones, seek critique, and revise. The skill she’s building isn’t just creative writing – it’s authorship of her own process: moving from wonder to discipline, inspiration to follow-through.

Or Olivia, a middle-schooler who said, “I don’t want answers. I want it to teach me.” She craved productive struggle. Her breakthrough came when she began planning her study blocks, comparing strategies, and explaining why a solution worked before checking if it was correct. She grew from compliance to curiosity, from finishing to understanding.

Then Luke, a high-schooler who wanted to “learn faster.” He discovered speed came not from shortcuts but from self-organization – creating routines, teaching others, and reflecting on retention. His measure of mastery shifted from completion to contribution: using what he learns to help a teammate, mentor a peer, or improve a community project. That’s the leap from individual growth to civic purpose.

When young people learn how to direct their own learning, they are also learning how to direct their participation in community and public life. So how can education systems organize around flourishing – where learning, purpose, work, and democracy meet? Three shifts rise to the top.

First, redefine success.

By declining to patent the polio vaccine in the 1950s, Jonas Salk turned a scientific breakthrough into a global gift rather than a private asset. Likewise, we should regard the knowledge of how to grow self-directed learners as something to be widely shared and prioritized, making the teaching of flourishing and self-direction a core purpose of school so young people can guide their own learning rather than be perpetually guided. Let us move beyond seat time and one-right-answer tests to track growth in discernment, originality, collaboration, and agency – the human skills automation can’t replicate and civic life depends on.

Second, redesign structures.

Flourishing calls for moving beyond a standardization education system to a blended model that combines shared expectations with genuine personalization and agency. Every learner still needs a basic floor in reading, writing, math, and science. But we also need to track growth from each student’s starting point, so progress counts no matter where they begin. Instead of relying only on test snapshots, learners can show proof of what they know and can do through portfolios and exhibitions. Older students should be able to pursue pathways – academic, technical, or mixed – with chances for apprenticeships and college credit along the way. All of this can roll into a kind of “passport”: a portable record of skills and experiences that travels with them and is legible to colleges, employers, and communities. Done well, this protects shared standards, opens room for local choice, shows real learning, and connects school directly to life after graduation – without forcing one-size-fits-all.

Third, realign adult roles.

Flourishing learners grow best around flourishing adults. Teachers become guides who coach rather than command. Parents and caregivers support without rescuing. Communities become classrooms – mentors, civic leaders, artists, and entrepreneurs invite learners into real work that matters to others. When adults model collaboration across lines of difference, young people learn to do the same. Flourishing is not independence; it’s interdependence.

Together these shifts yield a more relevant purpose for schooling: not producing dependent graduates but cultivating thoughtful, self-directed, career-ready, community-minded citizens capable of both freedom and fellowship – and a new generation of grounded, non-anxious adults who approach life with mindsets of trust, curiosity, and shared responsibility for human growth.

Flourishing in the Age of AI requires more humanity, not less. Algorithms can personalize content, but they can’t form character or conscience. The future of work will favor people who can learn new tools, manage themselves amid change, collaborate across differences, and persist through uncertainty. The habits of self-direction that sustain human flourishing are the same habits employers prize and communities need.

Across the country, schools and networks are reimagining education around a shared vision of flourishing. When young people are trusted with real responsibility, supported by caring adults, and connected to work that serves others, they don’t just become better students – they become better colleagues, neighbors, and citizens.