I spent part of this week in Montreal—a city where people spend their days switching between English and French, just like at The École. Sophie and I were attending an AEFE seminar on the future of French education in North America. The AEFE network comprises 25,000 students in 59 schools across the United States and Canada. The day-to-day realities of these schools vary wildly, whether it be in terms of the communities they serve, their educational offerings, or their systems of governance (in terms of the latter, The École is truly unique, thanks to the presence of Philippe and Laurence), but one of their common strengths is that they belong to this network.
Although the objective of the seminar was to share and develop certain pedagogical initiatives and plan professional development for our staff, much of the discussion turned to France, the decisions being made—or not being made—there, and the very real consequences they could have for our schools. First off, the AEFE
—the public agency responsible for overseeing and managing the network—is going through a rocky period, and its role is likely to evolve. For now, though, we have few concrete answers, particularly with political shifts on the horizon in France next spring (and yes, you’ll be able to vote at The École in the 2027 presidential elections—we recently welcomed representatives from the French Consulate to prepare for just that). All of this may seem far removed from our experience, but it affects, among other things, teacher recruitment from France, their professional development, and their administrative ties with the French Ministry of Education. These are important considerations for us as heads of school, so we’re naturally keeping a close eye on developments and the costs they might bring in the future (because, in education as in everything else, it often comes down to budget).
The situation in French schools, the high school student strikes and protests, and the latest PISA results were also, of course, topics of conversation. Whatever we may think of these tests, it’s hard to deny that they influence the reputation of our education system overseas. Having worked in Taiwan for seven years (third in the world in PISA 2026), I know the pride and tremendous enthusiasm that strong results can generate. But I also remember that when you take the subway late at night in Taipei, you are struck by the number of children in school uniforms riding home. They leave home early in the morning for school and spend their evenings in buxibans studying math, robotics, coding, and English, and preparing for the various exams required to enter the best high schools and universities (often before heading off to their violin lessons). PISA results are an indicator we cannot ignore, but it’s equally important to understand the circumstances in which these tests take place and what they actually measure. What works in one place cannot necessarily be replicated elsewhere.
Personally, I regret that these tests don’t do a better job of reflecting the excellence of the French education system, whose strengths I see every day—not only in our classrooms, but also in the many The École parents who attended some of France’s most prestigious grandes écoles and universities. Because the French education world has long resisted—and in some ways continues to resist—the language of competition and competitiveness, these institutions are less well-known than the Ivy League or Oxbridge. Yet they inspire considerable admiration (and a little envy) for the quality of the education they provide. For our American and non-French families, choosing The École also means opening those doors to your children.