Curiosity as Connection
Curiosity lives inside all of us, and I believe it is something innate—a predestined characteristic that subtly guides our lives, our interests, our passions, and our motivations. We see this best in young children, who have a boundless drive to ask questions and to explore anything within arm’s reach. Yet, as students grow older, something happens. Their curiosity dims, often stifled by routines and systems that prioritize answers over questions, outcomes over exploration. As educators, as leaders, we need to ask ourselves: where does their curiosity go? What role do we play in preserving it, in nurturing it?
In my role as an educator and Dean of Community & Well-being, I am constantly struck by the limited emphasis that schools place on cultivating curiosity. Because it’s an innate part of us, fostering it is surprisingly simple. In most cases, the best method of creating curious minds is to get out of the way. To allow space for students to bring their questions, to express themselves freely, and to discover their interests without the pressure of immediate judgment. All human beings have something remarkable to offer, a unique gift for the world. Our primary purpose as educators is to recognize that potential, to build a space where trust and openness flourish, so students and colleagues alike feel encouraged to explore and share their curiosities without fear of invalidation.
Reflecting on my studies in clinical psychology, a quote from Dr. Alexandra Adame and Dr. Larry Leitner often resonates with me: in taking a stance of “interpersonal reverence,” we recognize that even if we come to know someone closely, even if we spend years learning about how they see the world, we can never fully know them. People’s unique gifts and curiosities exist as potentialities rather than certainties—they are meant to be discovered over time, not hurried or forced.
This idea of reverence forms the foundation of Experiential Personal Construct Psychotherapy (EPCP), a practice developed by Dr. Leitner that encourages us to approach others—and ourselves—with deep curiosity, awe, and an openness to experience. EPCP recognizes that each person is a complex, evolving being, and that each interaction, each moment of engagement, holds the potential for discovery. In an educational context, EPCP reminds us that students are not just learners; they are creators of meaning. They are engaged in a constant process of interpreting, adapting, and reconstructing their experiences. They don’t need us to supply them with answers; rather, they need us to support them as they form their own understandings, to encourage their questions and provide spaces where they feel empowered to ask more.
EPCP, with its focus on experiential engagement, encourages us to reframe curiosity not as an intellectual endeavor but as a journey—a journey of the soul, a journey of connection. Curiosity, seen through this lens, is not a skill to be mastered; it’s a way of being. It is about allowing ourselves to sit with uncertainty, to explore life’s questions, and to be open to the possibility that the answers may change with time.
Carl Jung once wrote, “The meaning of my existence is that life has addressed a question to me. Or conversely, I myself am a question which is addressed to the world, and I must communicate my answer.” This sentiment captures the heart of curiosity—it is a calling, a dialogue that involves who we are and what we are becoming. It is our invitation to grapple with life’s questions, to sit with them, to let them shape us over time.
As educators, we easily grasp the value of curiosity in our teaching methods, pedagogy, and co-curricular programs and while we agree that curiosity should be a mainstay in all educational settings, we also recognize the obstacles—AP courses, learning outcomes, and skill practice— all of which can hinder the process of curiosity. Yet perhaps these external barriers are not the real issue; maybe the true barriers to curiosity lie within us.
Curiosity often fades as we grow older - seldom explored in our professional and personal lives. What if we need to be more curious about ourselves, our colleagues, and the potential within our own lives? By modeling curiosity for our students, practicing it daily, and cultivating a genuine curiosity about what it means to be human; we might rediscover the joy of exploration and open new doors for our students to do the same.
Curiosity is our life. It is our connection to the world, a bridge between what we know and what we hope to learn. As educators, it is our responsibility to model this curiosity, to invite our students and colleagues into spaces where their questions are valued as much as their answers. It is not about finding the “right” question or the “right” path; it is about honoring the journey. And that journey begins when we hold space for others, when we embrace the unknown, and when we see each person as a unique and evolving mystery—full of potential, waiting to be discovered. So, if I may, the question I leave you with is the question similar to that of Carl Jung’s query. What would it look like if you engaged with your faculty, staff, and students as questions that need to be explored rather than problems that need to be solved.