Begin With Belonging

Here we are again sharpening pencils, resetting bulletin boards, waiting for that first chaotic sound that signals a new school year (or a return from term break). But before we dive into unit plans and strategic assessments, before we get caught in the current curriculum, I want to offer a gentle reminder to begin with belonging.

For international educators, this time of year is a strange and sacred thing. We return not just to classrooms, but sometimes to entirely different people, countries, and languages. Whether you’ve just unpacked your eighth shipping crate or you’re still Googling how to order coffee in your host language, there’s a unique vulnerability to this life, and it mirrors the emotional terrain our students are navigating too.

So let’s begin there, not with syllabi or seating charts. Let’s begin with belonging.

Starting school can feel like being asked to jump into the deep end before the pool has had a chance to warm up. Without intentional focus, we might unintentionally ask students to jump into cold water. Everyone’s still adjusting to new rhythms, waking up early again, re-entering group dynamics, new buildings, new expectations. Let’s not pretend it’s business as usual. We are all transitioning, and the kindest thing we can do is give each other a warm entry. Focus on relationships first. That’s the spark that creates a mindset ready for learning.

The first week of school isn’t just logistics. It’s emotional architecture. It’s the quiet, foundational work of saying: You are safe here. You matter here. Before students can absorb information, they need to feel seen. And when we center relationships, when we know our students’ stories, their fears, their humor, their heartbreak, we teach more than content. We teach humanity.

In international schools, where identities are layered and languages intermingle, creating a culture of belonging isn’t optional. It’s the curriculum behind the curriculum.

So, what if we shelve the syllabus for a moment? Imagine: Instead of rushing into curriculum, we offer space. We practice names like sacred mantras. We ask “How are you really?” and wait for the real answer. We share our own awkward stories of starting over. We model curiosity. We let silence be a friend, not a failure. What if we model vulnerability and create a safe space to ask for it in return? 

That’s where social-emotional learning lives, not in a laminated poster but in the way we listen.

And here’s the secret: when we give time to this work—this slow, beautiful scaffolding of connection—we don’t lose instructional minutes. We gain trust. We gain momentum. Students learn better from teachers they feel connected to, in rooms that feel like community.

But what if you can’t pause the curriculum? Not everyone has the luxury to shelve the scope and sequence for a week, and that’s okay. There are still powerful, meaningful ways to thread connection into the day. Try starting and ending your lessons with something that builds relationships and connection: a check-in circle, a moment of gratitude, a silly poll, a one-word weather report of how everyone is feeling, a sticky note left on a desk that says, “I’m glad you’re here.”

Bookend the academic with the human. Instead of behavior charts, let’s talk about growth mindset. Instead of icebreakers that skim the surface, let’s offer real invitations to know and be known. Start with a story circle, a walking conversation, a co-created class mission. Teach kids (and ourselves) to tolerate mistakes, to ask for help, to take emotional risks. That’s the stuff that sticks.

Here are some simple, connection-centered activities to help you start the year with a focus on belonging, identity, and growth.

Artifact Gallery: Have students bring in or draw something that represents a part of who they are: where they’re from, what they value, what makes them feel at home. Build a "We Are" artifact gallery on the classroom wall.

Gratitude Circle: At the end of the day or week, sit in a circle and invite students to share one thing or one person they’re thankful for in the classroom. It’s grounding, joyful, and builds mutual care. Model this for them by being intentional and specific.

Map It Out: Put up a giant world map and let students mark the places they’re from or have lived. Connect the pins with yarn, stories, and shared experiences. Bonus: it sparks incredible conversations and highlights the beautiful complexity in the room.

Portrait Collages: Use blank portraits and have students collage their faces with pictures that represent who they are: their favorite things, activities, interests, and qualities that represent them.

Shameless Brags: Discuss the difference between confidence and arrogance (confidence is knowing your strengths; arrogance in thinking those strengths make you better than others) and how confidence is an important part of a growth mindset. Let students share and celebrate things they are proud of (an accomplishment, a talent, or a personal growth moment). Encourage celebrating even the small things like "I kept my shoes clean for the whole day!" Bonus: If you use this throughout the term, encourage learners to begin to focus on non-traditional accomplishments. Instead of "I got top marks on an exam," think "I helped a friend through something difficult." 

Growth Mindset Word Wall: Curate a wall of powerful words like perseverance, resilience, courage, determination, flexibility, empathy. Talk about what it looks like in real life. Ask students to reflect: When have you shown this? When do you wish you had? Where might it help you now? Refer back to these words throughout the year. Encourage students to add words in their home languages and contribute stories, quotes, or drawings that bring the words to life. Over time, the wall becomes a visual reminder: struggle isn’t a stop sign, it’s part of the journey.

Language Lounge: Create a cozy corner or wall space where students can share favorite words or sayings from their home languages. It can be serious, silly, poetic, or playful, just a place that honors linguistic diversity and helps students see their multilingualism as an asset, not a barrier. Bonus: let students teach the class how to say something small each day/week.

Poetry Reflection: Use a poem (like Shel Silverstein’s Helping) to learn and explore intent vs impact. Ask students: Was the character trying to help? Did it feel helpful to others? Can both things be true? Use this as a springboard to discuss how we can assume positive intent while still taking responsibility for our impact. Invite students to share times when they meant well but it didn’t land, or write their own playful “accidental helper” poems. 

Not What it Seems: Explore creative problem solving in a group setting by giving students objects to use in ways for which they weren’t intended (a pencil might hold up your hair or be used as a chopstick). Have students group up to think of as many “other” ways an object can be used.

This isn’t fluff. This isn’t a detour. It’s the path. Yes, the deadlines will come. Yes, you’ll get to the rubrics and the standards and the summative assessments. But right now? Build the container, the human one. The one that will hold all the messy, magnificent learning to come. You’re not “falling behind” by taking the first week, or even just the first five minutes, to focus on wellbeing. You’re laying the groundwork for a year that thrives.