Author: Dr. Parul Minhas, Director of Research at Education Design International (EDI)
In most school reform conversations, the word “connection” appears frequently—sometimes as belonging, sometimes as engagement. But what often goes unspoken is what sits underneath: the quiet, systemic disconnection that shapes children’s everyday experiences. Not disconnection as a metaphor, but as a structural reality. This is the entry point of Building Minds: Designing Learning Spaces for Connection and Coherence, a book co-authored by three educators and designers who have spent decades reimagining what it means to build spaces where children can thrive.
Disconnection, as the book suggests, is not a surface-level problem. It is the root system feeding much of the anxiety, disengagement, and behavioral stress we see in schools today. And crucially, it’s not only a psychological state, it’s a design condition. Children are disconnected from themselves when school environments override their rhythms, silence their voices, or ignore their emotional needs. They are disconnected from others when learning spaces are isolating or competitive. And they are disconnected from the world when schools become sealed boxes, cut off from nature, community, and meaning. But Building Minds is not a book of lament. It is a framework for restoration.
Why Good Intentions Aren’t Enough
The central premise is that healing disconnection requires more than goodwill or even good teaching. It requires coherence. Coherence is what happens when the physical, relational, and systemic aspects of school life align. It is when what we say we believe about children is mirrored in the architecture of the building, the cadence of the day, the behavior of adults, and the shape of the learning journey.
For example, if a school values movement and autonomy but has narrow hallways, fixed furniture, and a rigid schedule, the result is not just inconvenience. It’s confusion. Children feel the contradiction even if they can’t name it. The absence of coherence quietly erodes trust.
Design as a Neurobiological Intervention
The book does not treat learning environments as neutral. It takes a neurobiological stance, showing how space influences not only behavior, but brain development. From the impact of daylight and acoustic comfort to the presence of quiet zones and nature-integrated design, each design decision becomes a pedagogical choice. The authors point to health promoting architecture as a foundation for rethinking schools.
What makes Building Minds particularly distinctive is its emphasis on diverse learning spaces—not just flexible ones. The book advocates for spatial diversity that accommodates a wide range of temperaments, rhythms, and ways of learning. This includes spaces that invite both solitude and collaboration, zones for quiet reflection alongside areas for active creation, and sensory environments designed with inclusivity in mind.
It explores how small design elements—thresholds, transitions, visual transparency—can regulate emotional states, support relatedness, and signal safety. It threads architecture with psychology, neuroscience, and child development without jargon or abstraction.
One of the book’s most urgent arguments is that disconnection is not evenly distributed. The more vulnerable the child, the more sharply they feel the misalignment between environment and need. The book offers a quiet rebuke to design-for-the-average, insisting instead on environments that flex with the learner, not the other way around.
From Isolated Moments to Systemic Coherence
The authors argue that we must move beyond simply offering moments of connection—a kind teacher, a cozy corner, a nature walk. These are necessary, but insufficient. Without systemic coherence, those moments are exceptions, not evidence of a shift. The goal is to create schools where connection is not the peak of the experience, but the baseline.
What might that look like? The book gives several examples drawn from real school projects: spatial zoning that invites multiple modes of learning and interaction, spaces for wonder and rest that are treated not as add-ons but as integral to the learning journey. The design is not just about aesthetics or function—it becomes an ethic.
The final chapters make a compelling case for rethinking success itself. If a school is truly coherent, we should be able to see it in the way children move, relate, and grow—not just in what they achieve. A thriving learning environment, the book suggests, is not one where children conform to expectations, but one where they expand into their fullest selves.
Originally launched at GLSN Pulse 2024 in Hyderabad, Building Minds is more than a contribution to school design literature. It is a call to align our environments with our deepest educational values. It asks us to stop designing around control and start designing around connection. And not connection in theory, but connection as a lived, spatial, emotional reality.
For those seeking to move beyond slogans and into systemic change, Building Minds offers a blueprint. Not a checklist, but a set of coordinates. Not a finished product, but a starting point for coherence.