You've never seen a school like this. In the middle of the Brooklyn Navy Yard, surrounded by cranes, start-ups, design studios, young people aren't just sitting in classrooms. They're creating digital marketing campaigns for small businesses, wiring real houses. Down the hall, a student named Natalia is hacking websites, safely, with the guidance of cybersecurity pros. (Laughter) These students are part of the Brooklyn Steam Center, a public high school that looks and feels more like an engineering studio than a traditional classroom. They're earning college-ready diplomas and industry credentials. They're building professional networks while discovering what they're good at in the real world.

And none of it happened by accident. I lead a school design organization called Transcend. And when we began working with the Brooklyn community, our first step wasn't to bring in a program. It was to listen. Students, families, educators, local employers all told us the same thing: we want learning that actually connects to the world kids are growing into. So with the school's founders, we stitched together decades of practice and research, career-connected learning, project-based learning, purpose development. The result? A learning experience that's rigorous, relevant and engaging. Not about regurgitating content but about solving real problems. Not "What do I need to know for the test?" But "What can I build that matters?" And when you see it, it feels obvious. Of course, school should be like this.

But if it's so obvious, why am I on this stage telling you about it? And what does it cost us when most students never get to learn this way? Transcend recently surveyed 70,000 students across the US. Less than half said they loved school. Two thirds said it's boring. Less than four percent said they get a chance to explore and be in charge of their own learning. And the older students get, the worse it gets. Nearly three quarters of third-graders say they love school, but by high school, barely a quarter say they do. And the data is just telling us what every parent already knows. You ask, "How was school today?" And you hear one word. "Fine." But "fine" isn't fine. It's the sound of potential quietly fading.

Here's the truth most of us don't say out loud. School isn't broken. It's doing exactly what it was designed to do over a century ago. It was built for the factory age to standardize, sort and prepare young people for predictable jobs. It worked for the time. Literacy rose, the middle class grew. But today, our graduates aren't heading to assembly lines. They're stepping into a world being reshaped by AI, where thriving depends on knowing who you are, discerning fact from fiction, knowing how to keep learning, creating, collaborating and, indeed, co-existing with others. That's why I believe our task isn't merely to improve schools, it's to redesign them for a new purpose. A purpose worthy of the 15,000 hours every young person spends in K-12 schooling. A purpose that shapes our very democracy. Because, as my mentor puts it, what happens in classrooms today is what will happen in society tomorrow.

But realizing this vision has never been easy. For decades, we've been trapped between two extremes: top-down reforms that can ignore local realities or bottom-up efforts that often depend on heroic and exhausted educators. But there's a third way. Community-based design. Community-based design takes the best of both approaches. It brings together the wisdom of lived experience with the wisdom of research. The assets of communities with the assets of proven tools and practices to make change that's both human and enduring. It's the best of design thinking, R and D, and community participation applied to the life of a school.

That's how Brooklyn Steam came to be. It's also how Van Ness Elementary in Washington, DC redesigned school around a simple idea. Kids learn best when they feel seen. We brought together families, educators, district leaders to imagine school that truly centered the whole child. Nurturing mind, body and relationships while confronting the real trauma that many students carried into school. So we integrated effective practices from other settings. Morning circles replaced roll call, mindfulness breaks alongside rigorous lessons, measures on student belonging that matter as much as test scores do. After months of piloting and iterating, these pieces came together into a coherent model where every student feels safe, connected and ready to learn.

When I visited, I saw a seven-year-old named Jalissa who had an emotional outburst in the classroom. Her friend Amara gently guided her to a calming space where they practiced breathing together. Within minutes, Jalissa was back on track. No tension, no punishment, just learning for both of them. That's why, even as other DC schools issued dozens or more suspensions each year, Van Ness issued none and exceeded district averages in reading and math. Today, one in four DC elementary schools is adopting this approach, and it's spreading to more than 100 schools across the country. Yeah. (Applause)

And community-based design works in places that couldn't be more different. It's how Matthew, a high school senior in rural North Dakota, went from dozing through class to forging his own path in every sense of the word, after discovering blacksmithing. His school was ready because it had been redesigned around real-world learning, he had the structure and freedom to turn his curiosity into craft, applying math, science and design to building a small business of his own. Now imagine pairing community-based design with today's technology. AI can help us accelerate learning and facilitate immersive experiences that spark every student's passion so that thousands more Matthews can find their purpose. If we design on purpose.

From Brooklyn to DC to North Dakota, in 500 schools across the country, we've seen what happens when communities design learning around how young people actually learn and live. When you put student experience, engagement, motivation, in the center, not as a bonus, but as a driving principle, everything changes. The data backs it up. Students who experience engaging, high-quality learning have higher grades, stronger attendance, fewer behavior issues. But the magic isn't in the numbers. It’s in the spark you see when a student realizes: "I belong here," "I can do this," "I'm learning with purpose." "I can make something that matters."

I know I want that for my own kids. And of course, I'm not alone. Every parent, educator, every community wants schools that keep growing with the world around them. School cannot be something we redesign once a century. We need community-based design as a muscle, not a program or an initiative. Something built in, not bolted on. A continuous way of evolving how we do school together. So when we ask, "And how are the children?" Let’s make sure the answer isn’t “fine.” Let it be, "They're engaged, they're thriving, and they're transforming the world." Thank you. (Cheers and applause)