At a primary school in New Zealand, an unpolished stone sits at the front of a classroom. It’s a piece of pounamu (also known as greenstone, or jade), a material that is highly prized in traditional Māori culture.

A Kōhatu Mauri (or “God stone”) such as this is said to be imbued with the life force of a space; it’s believed that touching it can help an individual to reflect and centre themselves by passing negative thoughts on to the stone.

“She [the stone] symbolises the life force of the classroom, the energy, the guardian, and the eyes that see everything,” explains Heather, the teacher. “She is a wonderful tool for lifting the wellbeing of children.”

It’s an unconventional method for boosting wellbeing - and one that might raise some sceptical eyebrows. But it’s just one of a number of initiatives that schools around the world are trying in a bid to tackle an increasingly widespread global issue: what has been called a “tsunami of pressures” on children’s wellbeing.   

Recent research shows us the scale of the problem. Earlier this year the Department for Education published a “state of the nation” report into children and young people’s wellbeing, which found that there had been “inconsistent” levels of recovery of mental health towards pre-pandemic levels.

And, in November, researchers from the University of Cambridge and the University of Manchester (including myself) analysed the wellbeing and self-esteem of more than 11,000 young people across the UK, and found overall “subjective wellbeing” (satisfaction with different aspects of life, such as friends, school and family) dropped significantly between the ages of 11 and 14. 

We know there’s a problem, but what we don’t know is how to fix it. The assumption is that schools have a role to play, although when it comes to strategies, some of the things we previously thought might be effective have turned out not to be.

For example, a large meta-analysis published by the universities of Oxford, Cambridge, Exeter, King’s College London, University College London and Penn State in July 2022 raised serious questions about the effectiveness of mindfulness techniques. Despite being popular, these practices were found to have minimal effect on wellbeing. 

Where, then, can schools turn for answers? 

Supporting pupil wellbeing in schools

For the past three years, alongside my role as a lecturer in teacher education and development at the University of Cambridge, I’ve been building a body of work with European colleagues to provide a critical discussion of children’s wellbeing from a variety of settings around the world. 

The result is a book, Wellbeing and Schooling: cross cultural and cross disciplinary perspectives, co-edited by me; Carole Faucher, lead researcher at the Nordic Center for Conflict Transformation; and Venka Simovska, a professor at Aarhus University’s Danish School of Education. 

Looking at international practice is important, and while no country has all the answers, investigating how others think about pupil wellbeing helps to hold up a mirror to our own practice. The purpose isn’t to “lift and shift” any of these approaches but to build a collective understanding of wellbeing education that is fit for purpose in different contexts. 

Here are three case studies to illustrate that.

Denmark

In 2013 the Danish government decided to introduce measurements and targets for pupil wellbeing in schools. This was based on the idea that strengthening wellbeing would reduce classroom disruption and, in turn, improve academic performance. 

The government recognised that, while many teachers believed wellbeing had a role to play in schooling, it was hard for them to prioritise it in practice. Embedding statutory wellbeing initiatives was seen to be the answer.

So in 2014 a wellbeing survey was rolled out to schools, which aimed “to monitor the development in pupils’ wellbeing on a national level” and “to function as a tool for the schools and municipalities to measure, follow up and work with the wellbeing of pupils through local interventions on a municipal, school and class level”.

The annual survey asks students a series of straightforward questions, such as:

• “Are you successful in learning what you want to learn in school?”
• “How often can you do what you decide you want to do?”
• “How often can you find a solution to problems if you try hard enough?”

The results are then presented in terms of four key indicators - academic wellbeing, social wellbeing, support and inspiration, and orderliness - which all add up to a “general school wellbeing” measure. 

These measures are used to compare schools nationally, and teachers are also given guidance about how to interpret and make use of the findings to inform their practice. 

It seemed to be a positive step in the right direction, yet in the years since the measurements were introduced, the annual summaries of the results have found no significant change in pupil wellbeing or attainment.

The problem, suggests Monica Carlsson, associate professor at the Danish School of Education, Aarhus University, is that when wellbeing and attainment are “twinned” in this way, there is little room for seeing wellbeing as a goal in its own right. 

“Investigating how others think about wellbeing helps to hold up a mirror to our own practice”

So, what’s the lesson for the UK?

In England, it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch for policymakers to introduce a similar wellbeing measurement to sit alongside attainment and other data at school level. The DfE already publishes national pupil wellbeing figures in its annual state of the nation report, and schools are used to undertaking self-evaluation in the Ofsted framework. 

But Carlsson’s work provides a warning: introducing such assessments may not result in improved wellbeing. 

She recommends, therefore, that any kind of standardised measurement of wellbeing should not be used to compare schools. Instead, it should be used as a tool for self-evaluation, with a focus on formative use. This, she believes, would be more productive in helping schools to constantly self-monitor and improve their performance.

New Zealand

While some might see the idea of a totemic stone to support wellbeing as something of a gimmick, the work of four education professors in New Zealand - Amanda Denston, Letitia Hochstrasser Fickel and Veronica O’Toole of the University of Canterbury, and Rachel Martin of the University of Otago - suggests there is more to it.

They were involved in the co-construction of a framework for socioemotional wellbeing based around three pillars of New Zealand’s indigenous Māori culture: te reo Māori (the Māori language), tīkanga (culture and customs) and mātauranga Māori (Māori knowledge). 

To develop the framework, a series of wānanga (gatherings for sharing knowledge) were held, first with teachers and then with families in the local community. Through these meetings, it was established that fostering socioemotional wellbeing relied, in particular, on developing and maintaining relationships, and on communication - particularly the ability and capacity to express emotions. 

Using these key ideas as a base, the researchers created a framework to help schools implement culturally and linguistically responsive wellbeing practices that acknowledge developmental differences between students. 

For example, the framework supports the introduction of a shared reflection tool, like the Kōhatu Mauri used in Heather’s school. When children feel they need a wellbeing top-up, they can touch the stone, which is named Waitaiki, and imagine they are transferring their thoughts to her.

“The process is simple: you close your eyes if you feel comfortable doing this, place your hand on her and think. She becomes the holder of thoughts; she seizes the sad or dark thoughts and feelings and replaces them with a fresh start,” explains Heather. 

Children are free to do this when they like, but the teacher may also direct their interactions with Waitaiki where appropriate; if there is a classroom incident, for example, everyone sits in a circle and passes her around, with each student taking the time to affirm their contribution to the resolution of the incident. 

The point of all of this, Denston and her colleagues say, is to draw attention to the links between our socioemotional wellbeing and our culture, language and connections. By putting the Māori culture at the heart of their wellbeing provision, Heather’s school has secured buy-in from teachers, pupils and their families.

For us, here in the UK, the lesson is all about community. 

In working with the school community to develop their wellbeing framework, the researchers were able to reach a shared understanding of what constitutes wellbeing in the Māori culture and to feed this into their pedagogical practices. 

Introducing a Kōhatu Mauri wouldn’t necessarily help foster young people’s wellbeing in the UK, but it’s worth exploring participatory approaches that involve the local community.

Ecuador 

On the surface, Ecuador seems to have a strong foundation for helping schools to support pupil wellbeing: a drive for peaceful living is enshrined in the country’s constitution. 

The concept, known as buen vivir (which loosely translates to “good living”) embraces diversity, communalism, complementarity and social harmony. 

Education law purports to uphold the principles of buen vivir, including peace and non-violence, guarding students from discrimination and defending their rights of opinion. In theory, these principles guide policy and decision making, and are embodied in strategies to enhance wellbeing. 

However, research published in 2017 by the Fundacion Octaedro, an organisation for social development in Ecuador, highlights how other factors in the school environment have led to the erosion of buen vivir principles. 

The research was conducted by Bernardo Cañizares, president of the Fundacion Octaedro; Irene Torres, the organisation’s technical director; and Carole Faucher of the Nordic Center for Conflict Transformation. 

Their focus was on children’s perceptions of school violence - something that is frequently highlighted as a concern in Ecuador. School violence is broadly defined as maltreatment (such as violent punishment) and different types of physical, sexual and psychological/emotional violence and bullying, including cyberbullying.

The study looked at children who lived in the region of Azuay. This area has a high incidence of child labour, and the highest cumulative number of suicides in the country among children under 12. Although the Azuay population represents just 4.94 per cent of Ecuador, 9.46 per cent of country-wide requests for support services connected to violence in 2012 came from the region.

“Effective wellbeing education needs to be context-driven, pupil-first and a priority in its own right”

Despite these challenges, the researchers found that children in this area feel safer at home than at school, even when they acknowledge suffering from regular abuse at home. 

“The school was identified as the primary source of ‘external’ violence, with teachers as the primary source of conflict for children,” the researchers say. 

They theorise that much of this can be explained by the disciplinary practices that are common in Ecuadorian schools: the researchers counted 105 mentions of punishment (or related terms) in the education system’s legal framework. Peaceful dialogue, on the other hand, is only mentioned nine times.

They concluded that, despite the good intentions, statutory education guidance still supports norms and practices that are in direct conflict with the principles of buen vivir. The use of strict punishment for non-compliance is promoted, which hinders efforts to improve school climate and pupil wellbeing. 

The main takeaway here is that if there is a disconnect between espoused values around wellbeing and statutory guidance for education, it is the latter that tends to drive practice and underpin school culture. 

When it comes to wellbeing, then, we must ensure policy is in alignment with the values we are attempting to enshrine in our schools.

Drawing on the lessons from these three case studies, along with what I have encountered in other countries, has taught me that effective wellbeing education needs to be context-driven, pupil-first and a priority in its own right. 

There is no simple solution to getting that kind of provision in place. However, there are some key principles that we should aim for.

1. Establish shared understanding

Wellbeing is a multifaceted, complex, dynamic and situated phenomenon. It is not just feeling happy or satisfied with different aspects of life; it’s also being able to flourish and do well within a particular context. 

Researchers distinguish feeling well (hedonic wellbeing) from functioning well (eudaimonic wellbeing), and both are equally important. 

Bearing this in mind, there needs to be a shared understanding in the school community about what wellbeing is and why it is valued. This needs to start with gathering data on community values, pupil wellbeing at school and barriers to intervention. 

There are many models and measurement tools available to help schools here. The Organisation for Economic Cooperation and Development, for example, has developed a child wellbeing measurement conceptual framework and accompanying dashboard. This recognises the complex nature of wellbeing and how it sits within a broader ecosystem outside of school. 

The Cambridge Wellbeing Check is also useful. This is aimed at children and young people between 7 and 18, and takes 20 minutes to complete. 

Whatever tool is used, it needs to be fit for purpose and contextually relevant. Consider the questions and what they imply. For example, asking for responses to “I’m making good progress in school” raises questions about what we mean by “progress” and what constitutes “good” in this context. 

2. Prioritise staff development 

In an ideal world, wellbeing education would be the responsibility of everyone in the school and would permeate school culture.

However, we know that, in reality, such work tends to be compartmentalised in discrete lessons and activities, usually within relationships and sex education (RSE) and health education.

Overcoming this pattern is challenging. It requires teachers to reassess their roles, particularly in the secondary sector - and, of course, this will need time and professional development.

Leaders need to drive this work, but teachers don’t need directives. They need examples to draw upon and adapt, and opportunities for discussion and reflection. Finding the time for this in the current climate won’t be easy, but it is more necessary than ever.

The recent announcement that the government is to roll out mental health lead hubs is a positive step in the right direction, but more needs to be done to support all who work in schools to feel equipped to support wellbeing.

In the meantime, one place that leaders can turn to for help is the Schools for Health in Europe network, which provides a comprehensive manual on how to become a health-promoting school. The manual advises starting with small projects and building up, and the steps it outlines could easily be adapted to focus specifically on pupil wellbeing. 

3. Decouple wellbeing and attainment

It is imperative that education policy puts wellbeing centre stage: we know that statutory guidance drives policies and practices in schools.

When it comes to statutory guidance around wellbeing, we have already come a long way in the UK. We now have safeguarding legislation that explicitly talks about wellbeing, and designated mental health leads with some financial support attached. Wellbeing is written into one area of the curriculum (RSE and health education), and is one focus in the school inspection handbook.

However, within all of this, wellbeing is still positioned as a means to promote better behaviour and attainment, rather than a core purpose in its own right. 

Schools, clearly, are at the mercy of accountability pressures that are heavily weighted towards academic attainment, so pushing back against this is not easy.

But, where possible, discussions about the work that goes on in schools need to start from the position that improving wellbeing is not a means to an end but a worthwhile endeavour, in and of itself. As the experience of Denmark shows us, the effectiveness of school wellbeing initiatives might just depend on that.

Ros McLellan is associate professor in teacher education and development and pedagogical innovation at the University of Cambridge, and co-editor of Wellbeing and Schooling: cross cultural and cross disciplinary perspectives