After six years of teaching within the French national system, and having studied in the British academic world at King's College London, I have developed a deep appreciation, and an honest critique, of how different systems approach early childhood education. Each has clear strengths. Each has real blind spots. And the most exciting path forward, I believe, lies in combining the best of both worlds.
The French Programme: Rigour and Structure
The French education system has undeniable strengths. Its clearly defined progressions create a secure framework for both the children and the teachers. You know where you are going in terms of skill acquisition. There is a roadmap, and it is detailed.
But that rigour comes at a cost. The French system, particularly in nursery school, can be excessively academic. There is real pressure placed on young children: pressure to write, to produce concrete results, to demonstrate measurable progress. In maternelle, this pressure can actually work against the very learning it is trying to promote.
More importantly, the French system has historically sidelined intrinsic motivation. It does not ask children why they are learning something. It does not anchor skills in meaning. And without meaning, learning becomes compliance. Children do what they are told because they are told, not because they are curious. That said, things are changing. Recent updates to the national curriculum and teacher training programmes have started placing more emphasis on pupil engagement and motivation. It is a slow shift, but a real one.
"If you follow the French programme to the letter, you risk producing pupils who are high-performing but not autonomous, and not intrinsically motivated."
The IB Framework: Thinking Globally
I have never worked in an international school myself. But over the years, I have encountered students who came from IB environments, and I have spoken with colleagues who trained in those systems. From what I have understood, the International Baccalaureate, and particularly the Primary Years Programme, takes a very different approach. It thinks about education globally. It places inquiry-based learning at the center of everything.
This approach is a real source of inspiration for me, and honestly, a big part of why I want to move toward international education. It develops critical thinking, curiosity, and tolerance by creating environments where children share knowledge, work on group projects, and connect what they learn to real life. The IB cultivates and harnesses children's natural curiosity by linking acquired skills to the world around them.
From what I have gathered, the IB approach may carry its own challenges. Without sufficient structure underneath, the emphasis on exploration and inquiry could leave some children, especially the youngest, with gaps in foundational skills. I imagine that the quality of teacher training plays a huge role in how well it works in practice.
The Real Risk of Going All-In on Either
This is something I think about constantly: what happens when you commit fully to one system without balancing it with the other?
Follow only the French programme: you get high-performing students who lack autonomy and motivation. They can execute, but they cannot explore. They know what to do, but not why it matters.
Follow only the IB without a structural framework: you get fulfilled, curious children, but with potential gaps in foundational skills. Especially for the youngest learners, the absence of clear progression can mean essential competencies slip through the cracks.
The key is balance.
If I Could Take the Best of Each
Everything comes down to balance: a carefully calibrated mix of both approaches, designed to preserve the best of each way of thinking:
- From the French system: the clear progressions, the structured framework, the rigour in skill acquisition. These create a safety net for both teacher and child.
- From the IB: the inquiry-based approach, the connection to real life, the emphasis on critical thinking and intrinsic motivation. These create meaning.
The true strength lies in the equilibrium. And achieving that equilibrium requires something that neither system explicitly teaches: a commitment to continuous learning as a teacher. Reading widely. Drawing from diverse pedagogical resources. Refusing to be locked into a single framework.
Why I Want to Teach Internationally
I want to reinvent myself as an educator. I want to discover new ways of teaching and learn to transmit knowledge from a different angle.
My years as a teacher in the French system have given me rigour and methodology, a solid framework. I want to use that foundation, but I do not want to be enslaved by it. I want to develop my students' curiosity and critical thinking. I want to anchor their learning in concrete projects that give real meaning to what they are doing in the classroom.
In many ways, I want to rediscover my profession.
"No system is perfect on its own. Not the French national education, not the IB. It is the fusion of both methodologies that creates, in my view, a nurturing environment fully adapted to helping children acquire their foundational skills."
The Teacher Makes the Difference
After years of teaching, studying, and questioning my own practice, I have come to a conclusion that might sound simple but is actually quite radical: the system matters less than the person implementing it.
An outstanding teacher working within a rigid system will find ways to bring meaning, joy, and curiosity into their classroom. A poorly trained teacher working within the most progressive framework will still produce mediocre outcomes. The curriculum is a tool. The teacher is the craftsperson.
And the best craftspeople never stop learning, never stop borrowing, never stop questioning whether there is a better way. That is the teacher I aspire to be: one who takes the rigour of the French tradition, the vision of the IB, and shapes them into something that serves the children sitting in front of her, right now, today.