The Magic of Collaboration

One of the most invigorating experiences in the field of education is discovering the power of true collaboration.

Miguel Chavalier - Rhizomatic and Complex Meshes String

From the very beginning, we knew our upcoming book needed to be written together. Not simply because writing in companionship is joyful (though it is), but because collaboration gave us something richer: a living space where ideas could be held gently, and also challenged. Where thinking could unfold through conversation, disagreement, curiosity, and wonder. Side by side, we found ourselves returning to questions again and again, turning them upside down, listening for what they were really asking of us, and allowing new possibilities to emerge. 

There is a particular kind of depth that becomes possible when you don’t have to carry an idea alone. In our shared process, thoughts could be tested without becoming hardened, and reshaped without becoming lost. Sometimes a sentence would arrive beautifully formed, and then one of us would pause and say, “Yes… and what if we look at it from another angle?” Other times, a messy tangle of notes would slowly become something clearer simply because we stayed with it together. 

As we write in the book: “As the two of us reflected on our growing collaboration, we recognized the significance of the journey—the serendipitous moments, the surprise of discovering both our similarities and our striking differences, and the energising way we challenged each other’s thinking. In that process, we came to understand that this is what meaningful collaboration feels like at its best: a dynamic interplay in which trust allows vulnerability, differing viewpoints spark new insights, and mutual respect fuels continuous growth and deeper connections.” 

That ‘dynamic interplay’ became the heartbeat of our writing life. Trust made it safe to be unfinished. Vulnerability made it possible to say, “I’m not sure yet,” and stay in the not-knowing long enough to find something truer. Our differences didn’t get smoothed over; they became an integral part of the process by sparking new insights, expanding our lens, helping us see where we might have otherwise stayed too comfortable, too certain, too singular. In many ways, our process mirrors the pedagogical values explored throughout the book. Our work, like children’s learning, has been shaped through dialogue, shared meaning-making, and relationships. It has been influenced by multiple layers of context and experience: the schools and communities we’ve been part of, the places we’ve lived, the theories that have guided us, and the children and colleagues who have continually invited us to think again. Throughout, we were aware of ourselves as beings-in-relation, shaped through interactions with each other, with ideas, and with the different contexts that hold our lives. Writing together allowed us to enact the pedagogy we believe in.

And we didn’t do it alone. 

 Ann Pelo’s contribution as our developmental editor was a gift that shaped the book in profound ways. Ann helped us unpack the broader structure, zooming out when we were too close, helping us consider the flow of chapters, and holding up a mirror to the coherence (or lack of it) in our thinking. She invited us to be braver with our language, more precise with our intentions, and more thoughtful about the words we chose to carry meaning. She helped us move between macro and micro: the arc of the whole book, and the rhythm of a single paragraph. Without her steady presence, wise questions, and deep care, this book would not have taken the form it now holds. 

In this way, collaboration becomes more than a professional necessity; it is a transformative practice through which ideas are held, tested, returned to, and slowly shaped. It reminds us that learning is not a solitary act, and that our best thinking often lives in the spaces between us. 

When collaboration is real, it changes us. It sharpens our thinking, softens our edges, and stretches our capacity to see differently. It reminds us that we are not meant to carry the complexity of education alone and that our most ethical, hopeful, and enduring work is born when we choose to think, wonder, and act together.

Anne and Fiona