A New Definition of Learning in Schools: An Ontological Lens

By Trudi Horler

We often say schools are about learning, but what do we really mean by ‘learning? As a full-time educator and coach, I’ve come to understand that our dominant definitions of learning in schools are too narrow. They focus heavily on acquiring content knowledge and demonstrating mastery through assessment. While these elements are important, they don’t tell the whole story. Learning, at its heart, is about becoming. This article explores a more expansive definition, one that’s grounded in ontological learning, and why it matters in our schools today.

Ontological learning asks us to consider who the learner is becoming, not just what they are knowing. It’s about growth in the domains of language, emotion, and embodied action which are the very spaces where human meaning-making happens. When we pay attention to how students speak about themselves and the world, how they interpret experiences emotionally, and how they show up in practice, we start to see learning as transformation. This view isn’t abstract theory; it’s a deeply human and practical way of approaching education. It moves us from a transactional model to a relational one. Learning, in this frame, is not just about performance. It’s about purpose.

There are four school-based examples that illustrate this ontological approach in action. First, consider a teacher who begins each lesson by checking in with students, not to manage behaviour, but to invite emotional presence. Students build a shared vocabulary to name moods like resignation, ambition, or curiosity, which helps them take responsibility for how they engage. Second, a Year 10 student writing an analytical essay on poetry is guided not only in structuring an argument, but in exploring what the poem calls forth in them: What’s the poet’s claim about the human condition, and where do they stand in relation to it? That’s ontological learning. Third, in a school staffroom, a coaching conversation unfolds where a teacher isn’t being ‘fixed’ rather they’re being listened to. The coach pays attention to how language shapes perception, and helps the teacher surface beliefs, assumptions, and new possibilities for action. Finally, in a Year 8 Science class, students are invited to challenge the traditional hierarchy of ‘expert’ knowledge by designing their own experiments to answer meaningful questions. They experience agency, and their learning feels owned, not imposed.

This broader understanding of learning is echoed in the work of other scholars. Gert Biesta (2013) argues that the purpose of education is not just qualification or socialisation, but subjectification — the process by which a person becomes a unique subject capable of independent thought and action. Similarly, Parker J. Palmer (1998) reminds us that ‘we teach who we are,’ pointing to the deep interplay between inner life and professional practice. These perspectives offer a strong philosophical and pedagogical rationale for why ontological learning matters, not just for students, but for those of us who teach and lead.

This way of thinking is not a rejection of traditional learning outcomes; it’s an expansion. It honours the rich, complex, and messy process of human development that happens in classrooms every day. It recognises that schools are not just sites of knowledge delivery, but places where identity, meaning, and possibility are constantly being formed.

If we’re willing to see learning differently, we might begin to teach and lead differently too.

The Emotionally Attuned Classroom - Why Feelings Matter in Teaching and Learning

Based on Alan Sieler’s view that emotions shape meaning and action.

In contemporary education, we often prioritise content mastery, assessment data, and behavioural management, but Alan Sieler’s ontological coaching framework urges us to attend to something equally vital: emotion. In his paper “The Emotional Realm of Human Existence,” Sieler outlines the centrality of emotions in shaping our perceptions, behaviours, and possibilities for action. For educators, this insight has profound implications. Emotions are not peripheral to learning, they are fundamental to it. They influence how students engage with tasks, relate to others, and view themselves as learners.

One of Sieler’s key contributions is the idea that emotions open and close ‘spaces of possibility.’ In classrooms, this means that a student’s emotional state can determine whether they lean into a learning challenge or retreat from it. Teachers can apply this principle by intentionally cultivating emotionally inclusive environments. A simple yet powerful practice is beginning the school day with emotional check-ins. This allows students to acknowledge how they feel and signals that their emotional world is respected. When students feel safe to express themselves, they are more likely to take academic risks and connect meaningfully with their peers and teachers.

Sieler’s insights find powerful resonance in the field of positive psychology, particularly in the work of Barbara Fredrickson. Her Broaden-and-Build Theory posits that positive emotions such as joy, interest, and hope, expand our cognitive and behavioural repertoire, enabling us to build enduring personal and social resources. Just as Sieler explains that emotions open or close possibilities, Fredrickson’s research demonstrates that cultivating positive emotions leads to greater creativity, resilience, and problem-solving. In practical terms, classrooms that intentionally foster positive emotional states, through strengths-based feedback, moments of celebration, or mindful attention, are better equipped to support student growth, connection, and long-term wellbeing.

Another key insight from Sieler is that emotions are not good or bad, rather they are either helpful or unhelpful given the context. Teachers can support student wellbeing by helping learners reframe limiting emotional states. For example, when a student experiences anxiety before a test, a teacher might reframe it as a sign that the student cares and is invested in doing well. Through reflective dialogue, students can shift from self-criticism to self-compassion, developing emotional agility, the ability to notice, interpret and navigate their emotions in constructive ways.

Sieler also emphasises that language and emotions are inseparable. How we speak, especially the kinds of questions we ask, can change how others feel and what they see as possible. Educators can use this to their advantage through intentional, emotionally attuned language. For instance, asking open-ended questions such as, ‘What would help you feel more confident about this task?' invites students to explore internal states and regain a sense of agency. Similarly, practices like appreciative inquiry—where students reflect on their strengths or past successes, can elicit feelings of optimism and confidence, which in turn support motivation and learning.

Ultimately, integrating emotional awareness into pedagogy is not an ‘extra’ to be squeezed in after the curriculum is covered, rather it is central to effective teaching. As both Sieler and Fredrickson show, when we understand and attend to the emotional lives of students, we create conditions where deeper learning, stronger relationships, and sustained wellbeing become possible. The emotionally attuned classroom is not just a kinder space, it’s a smarter, more human one.