Love is in the air this February, and while Valentine’s Day is often about chocolates, flowers, and romantic declarations, at Class 13 HQ, we’re taking a different approach.
Let’s talk about love, emotions, and education instead, and ask:
- How are we teaching young people to manage their feelings?
- Are we creating environments of care or
- Are we handing out emotional “compliance” lessons wrapped in a cute bow?
Love and Emotional Regulation: Are We Getting It Wrong?
In schools, emotional regulation—a term often used interchangeably with emotional self-regulation—is framed as a skill children must master to overcome challenges.
Sound familiar? It echoes the narrative around resilience (if you’re curious about our thoughts on that, check out our Aspire Youth resource).
But here’s the catch: Both concepts tend to place responsibility on the child, focusing on individual deficits rather than systemic realities.
This is not to say that emotional regulation is inherently bad—being able to manage emotions is a crucial skill. The problem arises when emotional regulation is framed as a requirement for acceptance, rather than a tool for self-awareness and agency.
Too often, the expectation is not that young people learn to process emotions, but that they suppress them in ways that make adults feel more comfortable.
Instead of asking why a child is struggling to “regulate” their emotions, we should be asking: Why is the system they’re navigating so emotionally taxing in the first place?
We know that emotional regulation is not understood equally. Black , neurodivergent , and working-class students are disproportionately expected to suppress emotions that disrupt “order”.
This isn’t about emotional support—it’s about control.
The Culture of Niceness
Angelina E. Castagno’s work critiques the culture of “niceness,” often seen as a virtue in schools. But niceness can uphold inequities by sidelining emotions that challenge the status quo.
Similarly, emotional regulation is often tied to cultural norms that marginalise certain ways of expressing feelings.
Castagno highlights how schools often prioritise conformity and control over care and connection. Emotional regulation becomes less about supporting young people and more about maintaining comfort.
If schools use niceness to maintain compliance, then radical love—as bell hooks describes it—challenges us to reimagine schools as spaces of genuine care, where emotions are acknowledged rather than policed.
Love as a radical act invites us to create environments where emotions are acknowledged, valued, and collectively held.
Rethinking Emotional Regulation: Love as a Collective Practice
So, what if schools reimagined emotional regulation as a collective practice rather than an individual responsibility? What if we treated emotions like a community love letter, where care, connection, and understanding are shared responsibilities?
bell hooks gives us the perfect template with her seven elements of love:
- Care: beyond discipline and correction—do young people feel truly cared for?
- Affection: does school culture create warmth and belonging?
- Recognition: are young people valued for who they are and not just their performance?
- Respect: is respect mutual, or does it only flow one way?
- Commitment: do we invest in long-term, meaningful relationships?
- Trust: who are the staff that rarely receive disclosures, and what does that tell us about our school community?
- Honest & Open Communication: is there space for vulnerability and emotional authenticity?
This is where the concept of love becomes not just relevant but essential. It’s not the tokenised, romanticised love we see in Valentine’s Day ads, but the radical, active love bell hooks described as a verb.
A Love Revolution in Education
This Valentine’s Day, let’s embrace a radical love revolution in schools. Not the type of love splashed across greeting cards, but love as a verb.
Love as verb
Love is care, a steady flame,
A shield for those who bear the blame.
Not fleeting, soft, or sweet veneer,
But action bold, both loud and clear.
Love is justice, fierce and strong,
Righting every grievous wrong.
It holds the weight of truth untold,
And breaks the chains of systems old.
Love’s commitment—steadfast, true,
To build a world for me and you.
Where every child, in every space,
Feels valued, seen, a part, a place.
Love’s not a word we merely say,
But what we choose to do each day.
A verb that acts, that fights, that gives,
A love that moves, a love that lives.
Let’s cut the ties to harmful practices and start reshaping our classrooms into spaces of radical care and justice.
If we truly believe in love as a verb, let’s act on it—by questioning how we manage emotions in our schools and by committing to education that centres care, connection, and collective liberation.
