Human Connections and Coaching Conversations: Denmark Reflections
Why Denmark? A Journey Begins
As I zipped up my suitcase and packed the final few copies of A Teacher’s Guide to Coaching, it hit me—this journey was real. Months of thinking, writing, and preparing had brought me here, to the start of something I wasn’t sure I could fully plan for: a series of coaching conversations that would take me across continents, beginning in the heart of Scandinavia.
Denmark felt like the right place to begin. A country known for its emphasis on wellbeing, equity, and trust in education, it offered a natural starting point for exploring how coaching can support and enhance teaching and learning. I wasn't coming to deliver a workshop or host a seminar. I was coming to listen. To share. To be part of conversations that might shift perspectives—mine included.
This wasn’t a traditional book tour. I was gifting my book to educators not as a finished statement, but as an invitation. An opening line in a longer dialogue about coaching, curiosity, and creating space for teachers to thrive.
Over the course of the next few days, I would catch up with PhD students, educators and university researchers. I’d spend time in schools and kitchens, on trams and porches, drinking coffee, and talking about everything from teacher agency to emotional intelligence, innovation, mentoring, and the everyday details that make up a life in education.
This blog series will document those moments—not only the professional insights, but the personal connections and unexpected observations that made Denmark such a meaningful first chapter in my #CoachingAcrossBorders journey.
Conversations That Shaped Me
My first few days in Denmark reminded me of something essential: coaching is something we live. And often, the most profound conversations don’t happen in classrooms or conference rooms, but over coffee, during quiet walks, or around the dinner table.
One of my first conversations was with Anne Marie, a PhD student at the University of Copenhagen. She’s co-developing a programme called På sporet (On Track)—a creative, research-based learning experience designed to help 4th and 5th grade students improve focus, self-regulation, and wellbeing in a world full of digital distractions.
Structured like a detective story, students help solve the mystery of who shut off the internet, exploring various perspectives—from families overwhelmed by screen time to advocates of technology’s potential, and even the darker sides of the web. The goal? To help students reflect on their own habits, develop executive functioning skills, and support greater equity in learning. Teachers also receive practical tools and knowledge through podcasts and resources focused on attention, metacognition, and impulse control.
As Anne Marie and I spoke, the overlap with coaching was clear: the emphasis on reflection, agency, and building skills that empower learners. I was especially struck by the programme’s potential to support neurodivergent students, and how Danish schools are beginning to explore inclusive innovations with real depth.
Later in the week, I travelled to North Denmark, where I stayed with the wonderful Sarah, whose hospitality and conversation made me feel instantly at home. Over mugs of coffee and glasses of wine, we talked about life, writing, and education. Sarah is an educational anthropologist based at the Center for Educational Development at Aarhus University, where she explores how university teachers develop their professional identities, engage with curriculum reform, and navigate policy in practice.
What struck me most about Sarah’s work was her Change-Maker Model—an innovative pedagogical framework she developed to support students in using their academic knowledge to create real societal value. Her research into entrepreneurship education at Aarhus University highlights the power of learning when it's connected to purpose, reflection, and action.
Although Sarah described her work as “mentoring,” the parallels with coaching were clear. She asks powerful questions about values, purpose, and identity—helping others connect deeply with their work and its impact. She also holds space for people to reflect critically on the future of higher education, and how we might build more socially responsive institutions through pedagogy.
Our conversations blurred the lines between coaching, mentoring, and research—but always circled back to learning as a relational and transformative act. It reminded me that coaching doesn’t always need a formal label to be powerful. Sometimes, it’s simply a meaningful conversation—stories exchanged about how education can shape a better world.
Continuing my journey north to Aalborg, I had the opportunity to visit Thomas at the Research Centre on Inclusion and Exclusion at the University College of North Denmark. Our discussion revealed many rich overlaps between his team’s work and my own PhD research on neurodiversity and education. We explored a range of fascinating projects, each offering fresh ways of reimagining inclusive education—both structurally and relationally.
One area that particularly resonated with me was their work on co-teaching as a model for inclusive practice. Instead of placing the weight of support on a single teacher, co-teaching fosters shared responsibility, collaborative planning, and differentiated instruction. It creates more dynamic and responsive learning environments, where diversity is not something to be accommodated, but something to be actively embraced and planned for.
Our conversation also prompted deeper reflection on the role of coaching within inclusive school settings. It led me to consider how coaching can serve as a powerful tool for supporting inclusive practice—offering educators a structured space for dialogue, reflective questioning, and a focus on strengths. Amid the emotional and intellectual demands that often accompany inclusion work, coaching provides an opportunity to pause, process, and grow. It supports professional learning, ethical decision-making, and more connected, human-centred approaches to navigating complexity.
As we talked, the Danish concept of hygge came to mind—not just as a cosy aesthetic, but as a way of being that values presence, connection, and ease. In many ways, coaching mirrors this too: a purposeful pause in the day for meaningful dialogue, where both people feel seen, heard, and supported.
As I packed my bag and said goodbye to Denmark, I felt grateful for the generosity of those I met, the richness of our dialogues, and the reaffirmation that coaching is, at its heart, about connection. I look forward to seeing where the next chapter takes me. Follow me as I continue the #CoachingAcrossBorders journey. Next stop - China!