As the SPIRIT project has gradually taken shape over the past months, I have found myself returning to the same question again and again:  “Can we really teach qualities/attributes/skills such as curiosity, resilience or empathy, or can we only create the conditions in which they grow?” The more we explored the research, listened to teachers and psychologists, and reflected on our own experiences, the clearer one thing became. Developing transversal skills is not about adding another subject to an already full timetable. It is about looking at education through a different lens. Rather than asking “What should children know?”, we also begin asking “Who are they becoming?” That shift in perspective became the foundation of the SPIRIT Framework—a practical model designed to help teachers nurture the skills children will need to flourish in an uncertain and ever-changing world. Built around three interconnected dimensions—the ten transversal skills, children’s developmental stages, and meaningful learning experiences through classroom activities, traditional games and STEAM—the framework is intended not as a rigid programme, but as a guide that helps teachers choose the right pathway for the children sitting in front of them.

Yet, as I read through the framework, one idea stood above all the rest. At the very centre of the SPIRIT cube model is not a methodology or a teaching resource. It is the teacher. That feels both simple and profoundly important. Children learn as much from who we are as from what we teach. A lesson on empathy carries greater meaning when empathy is experienced. Resilience becomes real when children see adults navigate challenges with patience and hope. Curiosity is contagious when it is genuinely lived by the person leading the classroom. The framework reminds us that teaching these skills is not simply about knowing the right strategies—it is about embodying the values we hope to inspire in others. Perhaps that is why I find this part of the project so encouraging. It recognises that teachers are not expected to be perfect. Like their students, they too are learners, continually growing, reflecting and discovering. In many ways, that may be the most powerful lesson of all.