Facilitating the recent Teachers CAN immersion was one of the most grounding experiences of my journey as an educator. I could feel the weight of what it means to hold space, not just to lead discussions, but to create a place where teachers could arrive as their full selves. As a participant, I once came to these spaces searching for clarity and affirmation. This time, I found myself witnessing that same search in others, the quiet courage it takes for teachers to re-imagine who they are beyond their classrooms, their checklists, and the policies that often define them.
What stood out most was the honesty. Teachers shared stories that were raw, sometimes painful, but always deeply human. As a facilitator, I realised that growth rarely looks like certainty; it looks like teachers asking better questions about why they teach and what kind of world they’re helping to build. Watching that unfold reminded me of why I first joined the Teachers CAN fellowship to understand that teaching is not only a profession but a form of identity work. Each conversation, each reflective exercise, became a mirror through which teachers could see their own power again. Parent Power has shaped much of how I think about community and education. When parents and teachers truly meet as co-educators, learning stops being an individual pursuit and becomes a shared responsibility. During the immersion, many teachers reflected on how disconnected parents often feel from the learning process. We spoke about rebuilding that bridge, one grounded not in compliance, but in partnership and empathy. When teachers begin to see parents as allies, not observers, the whole ecosystem around the child begins to strengthen.
Teachers CAN continues to remind me that teachers deserve spaces that nurture both heart and mind. These immersions are not just professional development sessions; they are re-humanising experiences. They offer teachers a moment to breathe, to re-author their stories, and to find meaning in their practice again. I saw how teachers left the week not only inspired but more connected to each other and that, to me, is how change begins: through community, not isolation. Leaving Limpopo, I felt deeply hopeful. The work is never easy, but it is sacred. Holding space for others helped me see that leadership is less about directing and more about listening about helping people find what was already within them. And if we can continue to create spaces where teachers feel seen, heard, and valued, then perhaps we can begin to heal the very system we so often wish to fix.
Reflection By Michael Sterksen
Teachers CAN – Network Mobiliser
