When Play Becomes Courage: Using the Spiral of Inquiry and the Circle of Courage to Support Marginalized Learners
What if well-being wasn’t a program you implemented, but a lens through which you designed learning?
For the past two years, I have been working with an organization that is deeply people-centred. Some argue that organizations themselves cannot care—a question we debated in one of my doctoral courses. But the people within them certainly can. Their care is often the difference-maker: it can build or diminish trust, courage, motivation, and innovation.
This organization serves learners whose stories are complex and often marked by marginalization. They serve children who have experienced exclusion, instability, and in most cases, trauma. As in so many schools serving vulnerable communities, the staff’s fierce commitment and deep care for those in their care is undeniably essential.
But care alone does not lead to sustained school improvement. Cohesion and coherence are also needed.
Cohesion refers to how well staff relate to one another and the strength of the culture they create together. Coherence is understood as the organizational condition in which direction, structures, and professional learning are aligned to support sustained improvement. Coherence-making, by contrast, refers to the leadership work through which this alignment is intentionally designed, enacted, and refined over time.
This relationship between cohesion and coherence was central to my doctoral work and is fundamental to systemic growth. Theory informs practice, and practice brings theory to life.
So, we began where growth begins: with inquiry into our practice.
Beginning with Inquiry
We used the Spiral of Inquiry (Halbert & Kaser, 2022) as our disciplined improvement process. The Spiral is not a compliance tool or a top-down measure, but a way of thinking that is responsive to context and driven by learning from the ground up.
During the scanning phase, the lower school team noticed several patterns: Friendships were fragile and few.
Engagement was variable.
Play was often short-lived.
Dysregulation and safety were a concern.
Learners found it difficult to articulate what it meant to be part of a group (belong).
The team’s hunch was that the children wanted connection but did not yet have the skills, confidence, or regulatory capacity to sustain it.
Other teams within the organization were engaging learners in circle work. In the lower school, however, many children were not yet able to participate successfully in formal circle time. Rather than forcing a strategy that did not fit their context, the team developed a different inquiry focus:
How might we use play to deepen trust and build belonging?
A Developmental Lens for Play
To bring coherence to their thinking, staff kept their Dyadic Developmental Practice (Hughes et al., 2019) principles close at hand and turned to the Circle of Courage (Brendtro et al., 2019)—a strengths-based framework that integrates Indigenous philosophies with neuroscience research. Its four domains—Belonging, Mastery, Independence, and Generosity—offered a developmental map rather than a behaviour program.
Through this lens, mindsets began to shift.
Play, once seen as an add-on or even a possible trigger, became the mechanism for learning:
Play as belonging: connection, invitation, and inclusion
Play as mastery: perseverance, risk-taking, and learning to handle loss
Play as independence: decision-making, agency, and responsibility
Play as generosity: shared joy, empathy, and contribution
Play wasn’t a break from learning. It was the learning.
Putting the Learning Into Practice
At first, the team thought the greatest challenge would be securing staff buy-in. It wasn’t. What emerged instead was collective courage.
Staff began noticing opportunities for playful interaction within everyday transitions. They reframed moments that might once have escalated as opportunities for co-regulation. They became more willing to step back and allow noisy play to develop rather than shutting it down too quickly.
They noticed physical interventions decreased among children while conversations increased.
Meanwhile, staff language became more precise. Instead of saying “They played nicely” to naming the competencies learners were demonstrating:
“You repaired that misunderstanding by listening respectfully.”
“You kept trying even when it was hard.”
“You made a responsible choice when . . . .”
The team also began co-constructing a shared “language wheel” to clarify the qualities and competencies they hoped learners would demonstrate and that staff would make visible. The purpose was not to rank children or describe them through deficit labels. It was to give staff greater clarity and a shared developmental language.
There are no compliance charts and no labels. Just a clearer understanding of what growth could look like.
Noticing, Reflecting, and Adapting
The Spiral kept the team disciplined, reflecting not only on children’s ability to engage in regulated play but on their own instincts and responses.
Where are we stepping in too quickly?
Where could we trust learners more?
What does it mean to offer greater agency?
This was not a well-being initiative layered onto the curriculum. Play became part of the infrastructure for learning.
Peer-to-peer influence strengthened.
Learners began co-regulating more effectively.
Adults shifted from fixing problems to creating experiences through which pupils could develop new capabilities and language to get on with others and make a friend.
Perhaps most importantly, the work became collective.
Why This Matters for Well-Being
Learners do not need more behaviour systems and compliance measures.
They need adults who recognize and name their strengths and growth so they can recognize it themselves.
They need spaces where belonging is tangible.
They need opportunities to practice agency safely.
They need experiences of joy, competence, and meaningful contribution.
Well-being cannot be reduced to quiet and calm classrooms. Sometimes it sounds loud. Sometimes it looks messy. But when anchored in inquiry and guided by developmental clarity, it becomes a powerful condition for learning.
What This Work is Teaching Me
As a facilitator, I am learning — again and again — that when teams engage the Spiral of Inquiry through the lens of the Circle of Courage or whichever fundamental principles are valued, they do more than improve outcomes for pupils. They change the culture of the organization. Language shifts. Mindsets soften. Collective efficacy strengthens. And children who once hovered at the margins begin to enter, connect, contribute — and play.
That is well-being.
That is courage.
And that is learning.
A Note on the Wider Context
It is important to acknowledge that the organization’s senior leadership team provides wraparound support in intentional ways, creating the conditions that enable staff working directly with learners to do their remarkable work.
My contribution is focused: I facilitate approximately 18 online sessions during each school year and spend one week in person with staff, supporting teams as they develop and deepen their inquiries. The senior leadership team attends every session. I am inspired by their commitment to and trust in the inquiry process, and by their relational support for their staff.
You may also wish to read:
When Adults Change the Way They Think, Young People Begin to Experience the World Differently, featuring the Residential Care Team’s Inquiry.
References
Brendtro, L. K., Brokenleg, M., & Van Bockern, S. (2019). Reclaiming youth at risk: Futures of promise (3rd ed.). Solution Tree Press.
Halbert, J., & Kaser, L. (2022). Leading through spirals of inquiry: For equity and quality. Portage & Main Press.
Hughes, D. A., Golding, K. S., & Hudson, J. (2019). Healing relational trauma with attachment-focused interventions: Dyadic developmental psychotherapy with children and families. W. W. Norton & Company.