Ecuador classroom in the clouds

A ‘pedagogy of love’ rewires the lesson, students are taking note

Story by Fernanda Pires | Images by Janis Carrion-Paute and Fernanda Pires
Video by Janis Carrion-Paute and Rafaella Terán

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ECUADOR—Nearly two miles up in the Andes, a rural high school turns its surrounding forest and mountain ridges into a living classroom. Beside a volcano, University of Michigan students walk with local educators and Indigenous youth to see what a typical school day looks like in this remote community near Otavalo.

The 24 U‑M undergraduates traveled to Otavalo and Quito, Ecuador’s capital city, as part of a 3‑credit course examining how schools navigate cultural and economic realities. They are pursuing different majors, though many were drawn by an interest in education.

Working alongside Ecuadorian students, the group explores how Indigenous traditions and global education models intersect in everyday classroom practice.

By the farm’s retention pond, all the attention goes to teacher Shirassa Conterón as she explains the importance of capturing water during the rainy season.

“We built a system to catch the rainwater in the roofs of the buildings,” Conterón said. “During almost six months, there is no rain, so we teach our students how to prepare for the dry season. From this pond, we irrigate all our plantations.”

Each day, a cohort of high school students is on the farm, cycling through different field sites. Vegetable production, Andean crops, dairy, organic fertilizer and guinea pig husbandry are some of the agricultural practices students have.

By integrating natural resource management into the coursework, the school’s staff and parent volunteers provide 89 high schoolers with a practical path toward self-sufficiency, fostering both a sense of purpose and long-term personal well-being.

The U-M students join the class and follow the lesson plans in the vast forest.

Because the class is open to all majors, students in other fields also find value in this approach, she said.

“We almost use this course as a commercial for the field of education,” Atkins said. “While many of our students are already dedicated to becoming teachers, they come here and are deeply inspired by the unique pedagogy and the genuine connections they see in these classrooms. There is a profound sense of warmth and kindness, a ‘pedagogy of love,’ that becomes a major takeaway for those entering the profession.”

On days they are not at the mountain farm, the high school students follow an intensive academic schedule, typical of any Ecuadorian high school, with traditional subjects like physics, geography and English, with specialized classes in music, chess and the Kichwa language.

By centering on Kichwa—the primary Indigenous tongue of the Andean highlands—the school ensures that modern education remains rooted in the region’s ancestral identity.

U-M student Megan Woelkers, of Flat Rock, Michigan, who wants to be a math teacher, sits in a class and is struck by the room’s physical and social layout.

The teaching is clear and visual, and Woelkers quickly understands the math despite the language barrier.

“The ‘creative ways of explaining x³ prove that good pedagogy can speak louder than words,” she said. “The teacher used base 10 blocks—cubes for x³ and flats for x²—tools we usually stop using in elementary school. She also plays music to make math feel less heavy. I realize we can use these resources and this sense of community all throughout our education.”

About 65 miles south of Otavalo in Quito, the classroom at Caminitos de Luz, a nonprofit elementary school, hums before the lesson begins. Sixth graders move between desks, cutting paper, writing prices, drawing food and arranging handmade posters.

At the front, Melissa Muñoz, an English teacher, guides them through an exercise that blends language, math and daily life.

The posters display recipes scribbled, alongside prices scrawled in large numbers. The room becomes a marketplace. Students use fake money to buy and sell food items they had researched and prepared. They practice numbers and negotiate prices, all in English.

“I designed the lesson to make learning tangible and fun,” Muñoz said. “A place where they can be happy, share their experience with classmates and have a real experience of how to say things in English.”

For the teacher, the value extends beyond vocabulary. She sees visits from international students as part of that process and her middle schoolers gain something equally important.

Ecuador’s education system includes public and private schools, along with nonprofit-run institutions that operate between the two. Nonprofit schools, such as those run by foundations, are privately managed but focus on expanding access for low-income communities, often relying on donations and partnerships to provide low- or no-cost education.

“We see how impactful this course is for them, whether they go on to become educators, school administrators or leaders in fields that can partner with or support education in the future.”

Born and raised in Texas, LSA pre-law student Giovanni Salinas plans to use what he learned on this trip back in the U.S. As a first-generation college student, he hopes to advocate for marginalized communities.

“It’s the same story my parents lived. My mom finished high school but couldn’t go to college because my grandparents needed her to work in the fields. She didn’t even attend her graduation because she had to work. My dad didn’t finish middle school for the same reason: he had to work to support his family.”

Secondary school enrollment in Ecuador has reached approximately 1.95 million students for the 2025-26 academic cycle, according to the latest figures from the Ministry of Education and recent market reports.

“Even though there are a lot of students enrolled in K-12 schools here, only 17% of adults hold a bachelor’s degree. Financial pressures are a major factor in dropout,” Salinas said. “They still have to pay for textbooks, housing and have commitments besides finances, like taking care of siblings or a job they already have. Continuing school is a great accomplishment, but it’s also a risk when you’re the first in your family to go to college.”

U-M students also visit two private schools in Quito, both Montessori-inspired and enclosed behind tall gates. In one of them, the elementary classrooms are set up inside tent-like structures, while older students learn in dome-shaped spaces.

They move with freedom—choosing what to study, how to spend their time and often pursuing hands-on projects like community gardens or culture-based crafts. The experience emphasizes creativity and individual interests.

Seeing the systems side by side provides a firsthand perspective of how location and resources shape learning. Jaynie Reyes, a freshman at Marsal from Chicago and the daughter of immigrant parents from Mexico, sees that contrast immediately.

“I want to give back because I received so much in my own education, especially from my fourth-grade teacher and our principal. I know it is still early and I have lots of learning ahead of me, but I am counting the days until I have my own classroom and, why not, my own school abroad.”

By traveling from the volcanic highlands to lowland cacao plantations, the U-M students analyze how physical location shapes national identity. At the Equatorial line in Calacalí, they study how the Andes Mountains split the nation into three distinct regions—the Amazon, the Andes and the Pacific coast—creating unique ecological zones within a small geographic area.

Beyond the geology, the group visits Quito’s Old Town to see colonial churches like San Francisco, which were built over layers of pre-Inca history, burial sites and artifacts.

“Ecuador is about the people and nature,” said local tour guide Paul Bustos Insuasti. “The country’s diverse climate allows visitors to reach the ocean or a volcanic hiking trail in just four hours. This accessibility, paired with a culture of hospitality, serves as a living classroom for how tourism and geography define the Ecuadorian experience.”

Majoring in ecology, evolution and biodiversity, with a minor in museum studies, U-M senior Benjamin Thaler joined the trip knowing Ecuador was home to wildlife in general.

Inspired by what he learned about teaching and education during this trip, Thaler has now decided to apply to master’s programs in secondary education.

“With my majors, I mainly just imagined myself working in a zoo or museum as a career,” Thaler said. “This trip really opened my eyes to the possibility of education and teaching as a different path. I never really liked being in school, but observing it from the outside gave me a more positive view. If this sticks, I would love to end up as an animal behavior teacher or something similar.”

Every morning, the group follows a different itinerary that moves them through a variety of experiences, from immersing in local culture and the environment to visiting schools and engaging with teachers and students.

For U-M senior Zoe Wright, a biopsychology, cognition and neuroscience major with a minor in education for empowerment, the study abroad program has reshaped how she sees learning.

“But here, in the private, rural and public schools—I’ve seen a real sense of care and community, despite their own problems and differences. Everyone I’ve met is deeply committed to helping these kids succeed. And that’s the type of love I feel for kids.”

Those observations and thoughts prompt Wright—who wants to be a school social worker and will start a master’s program in the fall—to ask, ‘How do we all actually come together to make the big changes that need to happen in America?

“I want to bring that sense of care—the emphasis on community and how we show up for one another—into my work,” said Wright of Ypsilanti.

“In the U.S., there can be a real disconnect—we don’t always think about the collective. In my practice, I hope to help students see that community matters and that how you show up within it truly makes a difference.