5 Things I Learned About Creativity by Teaching Across Different Systems
by Les Huysmans
If you teach long enough under different national curricula, a few patterns start to become hard to ignore. They don't always show up on glossy prospectuses or polished training days, but they seep into everyday classroom life: small assumptions, quiet habits, and the unspoken rules about who controls creativity — and how much of it is acceptable.
After years of watching students try to create inside different systems, here’s what I learned.
1. Everyone Supports Creativity — Until It Stops Being Tidy
Ask any education system whether creativity matters, and you'll get all the right slogans.
“Lifelong learners.”
“Critical thinkers.”
“Future innovators.”
In practice, many classrooms quietly operate on the opposite assumption: creativity is lovely, provided it stays within pre-approved lines and doesn't upset the schedule.
I've seen students design brilliant solutions, invent their own project formats, even question the way a whole unit was taught — only to watch their work politely sidelined because it didn’t fit the original worksheet.
Real creativity refuses to behave itself.
It doesn’t queue up neatly for inspection.
It colours outside the lines and occasionally eats the crayons.
And that, inconveniently, is its entire value.
2. Different Systems Breed Different Default Mindsets About Risk
Some systems cherish structure to the point where teachers almost apologise for letting students have opinions. Other systems swing so far in the opposite direction that students are encouraged to express themselves freely — but with little scaffolding for how to shape those ideas into something usable.
Neither extreme helps.
Too much control, and students second-guess their every move, waiting for permission that never quite comes. Too little, and ideas flood the room without ever finding a container sturdy enough to hold them.
The best creative classrooms aren’t chaotic or rigid. They’re structured enough to catch ideas without strangling them, and loose enough to let the unexpected happen without panic.
Creativity isn’t the absence of structure. It’s structure used well enough that students forget it’s there.
3. Students Will Create Magic Anyway — But Systems Can Either Support It or Smother It
One of the more reassuring discoveries was that students, left to themselves, will usually find a way to create.
They will improvise.
They will invent.
They will misinterpret instructions in ways so inventive it almost feels planned. (It rarely is.)
But whether that creativity flourishes or gets quietly snuffed out often depends on whether the system — and the teacher — is willing to get out of the way at the right moment.
In one setting, students built an entire podcast series from scratch, complete with intro music, guest interviews, and self-written scripts — with little more than encouragement and the occasional strategic nudge. In another, equally capable class, creativity dissolved into formulaic PowerPoints the moment it became clear that tidy formatting mattered more than original thought.
Creativity doesn't need perfect conditions. But it does need a clear signal that real thinking matters more than performative neatness.
4. True Creative Teaching Is Rare Because It’s Harder — Not Easier
It’s easy to label a classroom "creative" because it looks busy or colourful. Real creative teaching is harder: it requires letting go of predictable outcomes without losing your grip on purpose.
It means accepting that a lesson you designed might produce something you didn’t anticipate — and then responding without shutting it down.
It also means knowing when to step in quietly — to offer a shape, a nudge, a question — without stealing ownership back from the students.
In rigid systems, creativity often dies because teachers are too afraid of what might happen if they loosen the reins. In unstructured systems, creativity fizzles because teachers step back too far and students drown in possibilities.
The hardest — and best — teaching balances both: scaffolding just enough to hold the work steady, then backing off enough to let students own it.
5. Creativity Without Courage Is Decoration
Many systems celebrate creativity — as long as it doesn’t cause discomfort.
A creative student who designs a new product for the environment is applauded. A creative student who questions why the school doesn’t recycle its own waste is gently ushered back toward safer topics.
Real creativity isn’t just colourful projects. It’s the willingness to notice uncomfortable truths and imagine better alternatives.
Students are brilliant at this when we let them be. But it demands a kind of courage — from students, from teachers, and from systems — to stand by what creative thinking actually reveals.
Supporting creativity means accepting that sometimes, it will point out things we’d rather not address.
Closing Thoughts
After years inside different systems, I stopped thinking of creativity as a "skill" students need to learn. It’s not something we give them. It’s something they already have — usually in abundance — until the wrong habits, the wrong fears, or the wrong systems stamp it out.
The best creative projects I ever witnessed didn’t happen because I planned them brilliantly. They happened because I stayed out of the way just enough to let students build something messy, unexpected, and better than anything I would have designed.
Real creativity needs a framework strong enough to carry it — but invisible enough that students believe they built it themselves.
When that happens, it’s no longer about ticking boxes for innovation.
It’s just learning, at its most honest, its most chaotic, and its most astonishing.
➔ When was the last time you let students drive the project — and were genuinely surprised where they took it?
If you’re already thinking about how this fits into day-to-day classroom creativity, you might enjoy this post on Visualising a Story – A Student-Centred Creative Activity, which explores how students express thinking and emotion through imagery.
And if you're looking at the deeper reasons behind student disengagement or stress, Why Test Scores Shouldn’t Define Teacher Performance reflects on how broader, more human-centred guidance can support real learning.
If this sparked anything — questions, rants, good old curiosity — come say hi via the About Les page.