Starting before I was ready 

I am the oldest of five children. Independence came early, alongside a strong sense that I should be capable, responsible and always “on”. I began doing my homework by myself at a young age. That independence left space for imagination, but it also created habits that many educational leaders may recognise. Just keep going! Work harder and solve the problem yourself! 

Throughout my career, I have often started before I fully knew what I was doing. I began projects before I felt ready, followed ideas before I had all the evidence and stepped into opportunities that initially felt too large for me. I have always believed in the power of visualisation, seeing what might be possible and then beginning to build towards it. That willingness to begin has served me well. But it has also needed to be balanced with something I found much harder to learn, and that is stepping back. 

Human-centred leadership, what I preach and work hard to practice, is not simply about moving forward enthusiastically. It means noticing when an idea needs to change, when the people around us need more space, or when our own energy and judgement would benefit from a pause. It requires us to ask not only, “Can I make this happen?” but also, “Who is this for, what do they need, and am I still listening?” 

The award does not belong to one person 

Teaching excellence awards often focus attention on an individual, and I am so deeply grateful for this recognition. At the same time, I believe meaningful education is profoundly collective. My work has been shaped by students who trusted me with honest feedback, tested new approaches and brought their experiences into the classroom. They have challenged my assumptions, strengthened my ideas and reminded me that experience is a form of expertise. Championing their voices is one of my greatest privileges, and what’s at the core of what got me this NTF. 

It has also been nurtured by colleagues who opened doors, shared opportunities, offered encouragement and asked difficult questions at the right moments. Some supported ambitious ideas before there was much to show for them. Others helped me refine, evidence and communicate work that had grown organically over time. I am especially grateful to the colleagues who stood behind my work with and for Ukraine, often supporting near-impossible ideas in moments of profound uncertainty, helping to turn solidarity into sustained educational partnerships, and reminding me that this work was never mine to carry alone. 

My institution has provided more than a setting for these achievements. It has created opportunities to experiment, connect teaching with wider social challenges and turn ideas into programmes, partnerships and communities. Institutional support is not always a dramatic intervention. From my experience, it is the accumulation of small acts of trust, words of encouragement, space to develop, access to collaborators, removal of barriers and recognition that educational innovation takes time. 

My family are the unsung heroes of this journey. They heard “it is just this week” and “it is only this term” more times than I can count, while quietly absorbing the weekends, evenings and moments of attention that my work required. Their patience, encouragement and belief made space for so much of what my NTF celebrates. 

Be ambitious, but do not disappear from your own story 

For educational leaders considering applying through the National Teaching Fellowship Scheme, my advice is to begin collecting your story before you believe you have a story worth telling.  

Keep the student message that shows an activity mattered. Record the change a colleague made after attending your workshop. Notice when an idea travels beyond your own classroom. Capture not only what you delivered, but what became different because of it. At the same time, try not to turn the process into another reason to be harsh with yourself. Claims and award nominations can encourage comparison. They can make rich, relational work appear like a competition in scale, novelty or numbers. Of course, evidence matters, but so does meaning, so go back and ask yourself where your practice began. What has remained consistent as your roles have changed? Who has helped you develop? What do students experience because you teach or lead in the way that you do? Your strongest story may not be about a perfect trajectory. It may be about trying, listening, iterating and trying again. 

Remember to turn around 

Ambitious people are often very good at looking ahead. There is always another project, another cohort or another idea requiring attention. Awards offer a rare reason to turn around and see the distance travelled. When I look back, I see that the foundations of my teaching philosophy had been present long before I could name them: learning through dialogue, feedback as a relationship, imagination as a serious educational resource and teaching as something created with others rather than delivered to them.  

I also saw a child who had learned to be independent and capable, but who deserved to know that she did not always have to do everything alone. Perhaps that is one of the most valuable things recognition can offer. Not proof that we have finally arrived, but permission to acknowledge how far we have come, and how many people have travelled with us. So, which earlier version of yourself would you like to thank, reassure, or give an occasional hug?  

Bo Kelestyn is an Associate Professor at Warwick Business School, University of Warwick. Bo developed a distinctive design-led pedagogical approach called Designing Together that combines human-centred innovation, student partnership and participatory learning. Find out more and download Designing Together cards.