New Beginnings: The Hope of a New Year
Another year is off and running. This quote always speaks to me at the start of another academic year.
“...and suddenly you know … it’s time to start something new and trust the magic of new beginnings”. (Meister Eckhart)
In 2026, Eckhart’s sentiments are particularly prescient. They give permission to pause, focus and rethink. Schools are, by their very nature, places of new beginnings. Every new year provides opportunities for a restart with opportunity, optimism and possibility.
Lingard, Hayes, Mills and Christie (2003), in their book Leading Learning, described leadership in schools as “making hope practical in a world where despair would seem far more convincing” (p. vii). These words were written in the aftermath of 9/11 – they remain so relevant in today’s world. Their power rests far beyond naïve sentimentality. It is not about pretending everything will be fine. They give permission for us to make carefully considered choices when devising and conceptualising our educational ecosystems.
For me, making hope practical is connected deeply with making thinking visible. This cannot happen unless it occurs alongside opportunities for rich content dissemination. Thinking cannot be made visible without the strong foundation of knowledge. When thinking becomes visible, student voice becomes visible too. To some, this might be confronting, yet it is so important. It is not indoctrination of thought and great care must be taken to teach the appreciation and respect of difference. A culture of questioning will always unsettle those who would rather silence and limit dissent. This is fundamental to safeguarding our democratic compact. Our young people must be given opportunities to learn how to disagree well, how to reason carefully, and how to hold their ground with integrity. Our world needs these skillsets more so now than in living memory. Perhaps that is the new beginning we need most in 2026: classrooms that refuse despair, not by denying the world’s challenges, but by equipping our young people to meet them courageously and robustly.
Over the summer holidays, I read Jody Wilson’s A Brain That Breathes. What a great book. In such a short article, it will be very difficult to do it justice. The core of the book links positively and practically with this concept of hope. For educators about to embark on another academic year, one of its basic premises is important - the refusal to accept that overload is normal or inevitable. This is very challenging given the many issues impacting on our work environments. Wilson posits that if the brain is shaped by stimuli based on relentless output, constant evaluation and perpetual urgency, the only outcome is cognitive congestion: a space where clarity is lost. Wilson’s insistence on “breathing space” is essential for emotional regulation and learning hygiene. She observes that this can be achieved through grounded action enacted through deliberate design choices honouring attention restoration and “soft fascination”.
For educators, this offers an optimistic alternative to deficit thinking: a space that inevitably leads to distraction and dysregulation. In practical terms, classrooms can become places where pauses are purposeful, where reflective silence is seen as legitimate learning time, and where sensory grounding, including nature, movement, and creative observation, is part of our curriculum’s architecture. Could this be a new beginning for 2026? Perhaps it is a hope. It is not optimism without evidence, but rather a pedagogical stance that provides the possibility of engaging our young people in deep and respectful thought founded courageously on positivity and possibility.
Wilson’s critique of ‘consumerised’ self-care also strengthens pedagogical hope by shifting wellbeing away from individualised “coping strategies” and pivoting focus towards collective, systemic design by reducing unnecessary complexity while building learning opportunities and practices allowing both students and teachers to breathe. In doing so, educators communicate a profound message: that learning is not a race to survive, but a process of becoming.
All of this is difficult and, in so many respects, counter-cultural to much of our lived experience. I once heard someone suggest that ‘hope is merely disappointment postponed’. I hope not, yet sometimes it may seem so. When all the positives associated with our wonderful profession are considered alongside the buzz of a new year, I like to think that ‘it’s time to start something new and trust the magic of beginnings’.
References
Lingard, B., Hayes, D., Mills, M., & Christie, P. (2003). Leading Learning. Maidenhead, UK: Open University Press.
Wilson, J. (2026) A Brain That Breaths. Murdoch Press.