An Open Summer Reading Invitation to Minister Stanford (and Associate Minister Seymour)
From the educators whose expertise already lives in Aotearoa.
Minister Stanford,
When you spoke publicly about the profound impact one book had on your thinking - a book read on a summer holiday and powerful enough, apparently, to inform the direction of our entire education system - many educators across the motu paused.
Not because they begrudged you the inspiration. Inspiration matters. Books shape us all.
But because they recognised a gap.
A gap between the single, imported worldview that seems to be guiding your reforms, and the rich, diverse, deeply informed body of knowledge that already exists here in Aotearoa. Knowledge held by teachers, leaders, academics, iwi, whānau, communities, and decades of homegrown research.
So this summer, educators have done something characteristically generous:
they have put together a reading list for you.
Not as an act of defiance.
Not as a political stunt.
But as a genuine invitation.
An invitation to widen the circle of voices shaping your thinking.
An invitation to step beyond the narrow canon you’ve been handed.
An invitation to engage with the people who actually know this system, because they live it, breathe it, teach in it, research it, and entrust their tamariki to it.
And, by extension, we warmly extend this invitation to Associate Minister David Seymour, whose recent public statements suggest he too could benefit from engaging with the breadth, depth, and cultural grounding these texts offer.
These 27 books are not presented as a new canon. We are not asking you to swap one ideology for another. Instead, they represent a constellation of perspectives:
humanistic, bicultural, relational, critical, imaginative, place-based, trauma-informed, and deeply anchored in Aotearoa.
They speak to the complexity that your recent comments have tended to simplify.
They speak to the histories that your imported models overlook.
They speak to the children whose worlds cannot be captured by a single curriculum lens.
And they speak to the profession whose expertise deserves your trust.
This list is an offering. One made with sincerity, not sarcasm.
If one book helped shape your vision, imagine what 27 could do.
So here is our invitation:
Take these books with you on your summer break.
Read widely.
Read bravely.
Read with the willingness to be unsettled and expanded.
And allow the wisdom of Aotearoa’s educators to sit alongside the authors who first caught your attention.
Minister Stanford, Minister Seymour, we hope you enjoy the journey.
Here is your Summer Reading List, curated by the people who care deeply about the future you are now shaping.
Te Whāriki — Ministry of Education (Aotearoa New Zealand)
“A world-respected curriculum that sets children up to be capable, competent thinkers and learners… and is deeply grounded in the New Zealand context.”
It feels fitting to begin with our own taonga. Te Whāriki is not just an early childhood curriculum — it is a philosophical statement about who children are and what they deserve. Rooted in bicultural partnership and shaped by mana, whanaungatanga, and exploration, it places inquiry, curiosity, and identity at the centre.
Educators nominated it because it represents the kind of curriculum designed with — not imported into — Aotearoa.
A reminder that profound educational thinking already lives here, in our own soil.
Teacher — by Gabbie Stroud
“Teacher burnout. An autobiography.”
Stroud’s memoir has become something of a modern classic among educators. It’s raw, honest, and deeply human — a frontline account of what happens when a system forgets that teaching is relational work, not administrative output.
This recommendation arrived with just two words: “teacher burnout.”
Enough said.
A book like this isn’t just read — it’s felt. And right now, its relevance is painfully clear.
Lost and Found — by Ross Greene
“Education begins with the child... We need to understand where our students come from and what their reality is.”
Ross Greene’s work is a masterclass in compassionate teaching. Lost and Found pushes us to see behaviour not as defiance but as communication — an unmet need, an unsolved problem, a missing skill. Greene invites educators to meet children where they are, not where a curriculum expects them to be.
The nominator’s message says it best:
When we truly know our students, we design learning that moves forward from their lived reality — not from someone else’s idealised version of it.
Fish in a Tree — by Lynda Mullaly Hunt
“A fictional story that reveals the complexity of neurodiverse learners — and the many ways teachers adapt for them.”
Although written for young readers, this novel offers a profound window into the experiences of dyslexic and neurodivergent students. Through Ally’s struggles and strengths, Hunt shows how easily a child can be misread by a system that isn’t built with their mind in mind.
Teachers nominated it because it reflects the daily, unseen adaptation work they do — work that cannot be captured in linear curriculum sequences or policy soundbites.
Hooray for Diffendoofer Day! — by Dr. Seuss (completed by Jack Prelutsky & Lane Smith)
“A nice quick read for the minister. The message: trust the professionals.”
This playful, deceptively simple picture book celebrates schools that value creativity, individuality, and joyful learning. Diffendoofer School thrives not because it trains children to pass tests, but because its teachers are trusted to ignite curiosity.
Its nominator offered the gentlest of provocations:
A good, quick read — and a reminder that professional expertise matters.
A timely message, to say the least.
Learning Futures: Education, Technology and Social Change — by Keri Facer
This is the book to hand anyone who thinks the future of education is a matter of simply rearranging the old pieces. Keri Facer invites readers to imagine schooling capable of responding to social change, technological possibility, and the real needs of the world our young people are stepping into. The educator who nominated it hoped it might crack open the Minister’s imagination — to show what becomes possible when innovation and social responsibility are held together, rather than set in competition.
A reminder that futures-thinking is a discipline, not a daydream.
The Rhetoric and the Reality — by David Hood
David Hood traces the actual history of NCEA: its intentions, its design principles, and where practice diverged from vision. For those who believe our current conversations about curriculum and credentialing need more substance than soundbites, this book provides an honest, evidence-based account. Its nomination came with the hope that we remember where reforms began — and why.
What Happened To You? — by Dr Bruce Perry & Oprah Winfrey
Bruce Perry’s neuroscience, woven through Oprah Winfrey’s storytelling, reframes behaviour not as misbehaviour but as a response to experience. Trauma, neurodiversity, culture, and stress all shape how children arrive in their classrooms, and this book makes that reality impossible to ignore. Its recommender highlighted the crucial truth that a dysregulated child cannot access the learning part of their brain — something our current policy rhetoric frequently forgets.
This is a gentle but uncompromising reminder that teaching begins with the child, not the content.
The Balancing Act — by Dominic Wyse & Charlotte Hacking
Recently published and deeply grounded in research, this book challenges the binary thinking that so often dominates literacy debates. Wyse and Hacking offer a more nuanced vision than “structured literacy vs everything else,” arguing for a balanced, evidence-informed approach. It was nominated as an antidote to oversimplification — and to show that there is credible, rigorous research beyond the narrow slice currently shaping policy.
Disobedient Teaching — by Welby Ings
Welby Ings writes from the heart of teaching, and sometimes from its wounds. Disobedient Teaching is a call to resist the narrowing of education, to keep hold of the radical, relational, creative essence of learning. The nominator suggested, with both hope and sting, that this book might help the Minister understand both the power and the fragility of good teaching — and what is at risk when policy ignores it.
Invisible Intelligence — by Welby Ings
Where Disobedient Teaching speaks to pedagogy, Invisible Intelligence speaks to humanity. Ings’ memoir of being functionally illiterate until age 14 is not just a personal story but a profound challenge to our assumptions about ability, knowledge, and success. This book turns its focus toward the students the system routinely fails — those whose strengths sit outside narrow definitions of achievement.
It was nominated because it centres ākonga in a way policy seldom does.
Building on Our Strengths — by Professor Stuart McNaughton
Written by Aotearoa’s former Chief Science Adviser for Education, this book offers a clear-eyed, research-grounded picture of what our system does well and where we need to improve. Rather than chasing imported solutions, McNaughton invites us to grow what is already strong. His voice is steady, measured, and informed — everything system reform should be.
Te Kauae Tuku Iho: Inheriting the Sacred Jawbone — by Maia Hetaraka
Drawn from interviews with kaumātua, this book traces both the harm done to Māori through education and the aspirations kaumātua hold for their mokopuna. It is a deeply relational, deeply Aotearoa-centred text. The nominator hoped it might help policymakers understand the emotional, cultural, and historical stakes of curriculum decisions — and envision an education system shaped by mana rather than deficit.
World-Centred Education — by Gert Biesta
Biesta reminds readers that education is not simply about producing workers, rankings, or measurable skills. His writing evokes the spirit of Sir Ken Robinson — expansive, humane, and outward-looking. Biesta challenges us to consider the world children are entering, and the responsibilities they carry within it. As a recommendation, it came with a simple message: this book would broaden any leader’s lens.
Freedom to Learn — by Carl Rogers
A classic text of humanistic education, Rogers’ work argues that learning is relational, emotional, and rooted in personal agency. The recommender framed it as essential reading for anyone shaping policy: a reminder that students are not vessels to be filled, but humans to be invited into learning.
Education, in this view, is not just pedagogy — it is a human rights practice.
Pedagogy of the Oppressed — by Paulo Freire
Freire’s influence on critical education worldwide cannot be overstated. This book asks us to confront the political dimensions of schooling: who benefits, who is marginalised, and how education can either reinforce or dismantle inequality. Its nominator highlighted its relevance to our current moment — when social mobility is promised, but often only for those already benefiting from the system.
A timeless text that sharpens the moral purpose of schooling.
Place-Based Education — by David Sobel
David Sobel’s work is grounded in the belief that meaningful learning grows out of connection to local places, communities, and ecosystems. His writing is accessible, hopeful, and deeply practical. It was recommended as an alternative paradigm to imported models — one rooted in responsiveness, belonging, and environmental wellbeing.
NZAEE even offered to talk through the ideas with the Minister. The door is open.
Ki Te Hoe! Education for Aotearoa — edited by Pania Te Maro & Robin Averill
This 2023 NZCER publication gathers research-based approaches to enacting Te Tiriti o Waitangi across the education system. The nominator suggested it as essential reading for any policymaker wanting to understand real classroom practice in Aotearoa — and to design policy grounded in equity, not ideology.
A kete of wisdom urgently needed in present debates.
Truth Needs No Colour — by Heather McQuillan
McQuillan’s dystopian novel imagines an Aotearoa stripped of colour, creativity, and agency — a world of standardised testing and grey uniformity. Teachers recommended it because it feels uncomfortably close to a version of education we could stumble into if we stop paying attention. For young people, it is a mirror; for adults, a warning.
Sometimes fiction tells the truth more sharply than policy reports.
Teaching to the North-East — by Professor Russell Bishop
Bishop’s work remains foundational in Aotearoa. Teaching to the North-East centres relationships, trust, warmth, dialogue, and cultural knowledge as the heart of effective teaching. The recommender put it plainly: if the Minister truly wants to understand successful teaching, this is the book. It also came with a pointed reminder — experts begin by listening.
A book about connection, and about what happens when it’s missing.
How to Be an Antiracist — by Ibram X. Kendi
Kendi argues that every policy is either racist or antiracist — there is no neutral ground. This book would push any education leader to interrogate the impact of their decisions on those most marginalised. The nominator added that Kendi’s emphasis on self-awareness and continuous self-reflection is something noticeably absent in current reforms — and something urgently needed.
A courageous, confronting, transformative read.
Creative Schools — by Sir Ken Robinson
Sir Ken’s optimism and clarity shine in this book. He argues that creativity is not a luxury but a central engine of engagement and learning. The nominator highlighted its power to remind us that arts-rich education benefits all domains — attendance, curiosity, wellbeing, and achievement.
An inspiring vision of what schooling can be when imagination is not an afterthought.
Official Knowledge — by Michael Apple (3rd Edition)
Apple examines how certain knowledge becomes “official” and whose agendas it serves. The nominator saw this as essential reading for any policymaker attempting curriculum reform — especially one drawing heavily from far-right, neoconservative, and market-driven ideologies in the US. Apple offers both critique and hope: a reminder that change is possible, but only if we understand the forces shaping our “common sense” ideas about schooling.
A powerful counterbalance to imported conservatism.
Colouring in the White Spaces — by Dr Ann Milne
Ann Milne’s work is a cornerstone of culturally sustaining education in Aotearoa. She argues that thriving learning is rooted in culture, relationships, identity, and critical consciousness. The nominator framed it as essential for anyone wanting to understand how students actually learn here — not in theory, but in lived practice.
A book that refuses to allow Aotearoa to be painted with someone else’s palette.
Let the Children Play — by Pasi Sahlberg
Sahlberg’s work draws from the most successful education systems in the world — systems that prioritise wellbeing, play, equity, trust, and joy. This book challenges the narrow fixation on cognitive outcomes and reminds us that whole-child development is not an alternative to achievement; it is the foundation of it.
An uplifting, evidence-based argument for letting children be children — and watching learning flourish.
Mātauranga Māori — by Sir Hirini Moko Mead
This seminal text offers one of the clearest, most accessible articulations of what mātauranga Māori is — not as a curriculum “add-on,” but as a living, relational, philosophical framework that shapes how people think, learn, act, connect, care for one another, and understand the world. Mead describes mātauranga Māori as something woven through every activity people engage in; it is not a subject, but a worldview.
The educator who nominated this book shared deep sadness that the current ministerial framing of Māori language, knowledge, and culture has felt cursory — almost superficial — in ways that diminish the richness it brings to all of us, Māori and non-Māori alike. Their message to you, Minister, is an invitation rather than a reprimand:
Do not be fearful. This book will enrich your life. It will broaden how you see knowledge, education, and the diverse learners of Aotearoa.
If the goal is a genuinely world-class curriculum, then the wisdom in these pages is not optional — it is foundational.
An Invitation to Lead With Us, Not Above Us
Minister Stanford, Minister Seymour, if there is one message threaded through every book on this list, it is this: education is a shared endeavour. No single theory, no single ideology, and certainly no single summer read can capture the full richness of what it means to teach, to learn, and to belong in Aotearoa. These 27 books come from the hearts and hands of people who live this work daily. People who know its beauty, its struggle, its history, and its potential.
We offer them not as a challenge, but as a bridge.
Not as opposition, but as collaboration.
Not to sway you toward our ideology, but to invite you into the deep, diverse knowledge that already exists here. Knowledge grounded in our whenua, our cultures, our communities, and our commitments to one another.
If we are to build an education system worthy of all our tamariki, it will not be built from imported certainty, but from shared curiosity. We hope you’ll join us in that spirit - beginning, perhaps, by turning the first page of one of these books.
Kia ora,
I also recommend-
Sahlberg, P. (2021). Finnish lessons 3.0: What can the world learn from educational change in Finland? Teachers College Press.
I would include ‘In the early world’ by Elwyn Richardson.