By Katie Doering, Chief Program Officer & School Principal, Ronald McDonald House Toronto

On International Day of Education, this year’s theme — The Power of Youth in Co-Creating Education — invites us to pause and reflect on a simple but often overlooked truth: young people are not merely recipients of education systems; they are already shaping them.

Too often, we talk about education as something that happens in classrooms, during school hours, under ideal conditions. But the reality for many young people and families is far more complex. Education is shaped by health, stability, caregiving responsibilities, emotional safety, and access to support — or the lack of it. When those foundations are fragile, learning becomes fragile too.

At Ronald McDonald House Toronto, we see this every day.

Families arrive in moments of profound disruption. We meet them when a child is ill, routines are broken, and the future feels uncertain. And yet, even here, education does not stop. Young people continue to learn — not only academically, but emotionally and socially. They develop resilience, self-advocacy, and a deep understanding of systems that were never designed with them in mind.

These experiences rarely appear on a report card. But they are real, formative, and deeply educational.

When “Access” Is Conditional on Attendance

When we talk about access to education, what is most often overlooked are children and youth who cannot attend school consistently — or at all — because of illness.

Education systems remain overwhelmingly dependent on in-person attendance. When a student is absent due to medical appointments, treatment, chronic illness, or physical accessibility barriers, learning is simply missed. There is rarely an automatic mechanism to capture what was taught and deliver it meaningfully to the student afterward. The onus falls squarely on the family and the child to recover lost ground.

Even when students are formally identified as eligible for support, the gaps are stark. A child who cannot attend school in person may qualify for as little as five hours of educational support per week. Five hours is not a bridge to equity; it is a placeholder that signals compliance rather than care.

Online learning, where available, offers some improvement but asynchronous education is not a universal solution. For students who are ill, immunocompromised, fatigued, or in pain, learning independently, on a rigid timeline, without relational support, is often unmanageable. These policies do not simply fail to meet students where they are, they quietly exclude them.

And the burden does not stop with the child. Parents, already navigating medical systems and emotional strain, are forced into the role of advocate, coordinator, and teacher at precisely the moment when their capacity is most limited.

Health instability doesn’t just disrupt learning. It exposes how conditional our commitment to educational access truly is.

Why the Ronald McDonald House Toronto School Exists

The Ronald McDonald House Toronto School was created to address precisely this.

While children who are ill may have access to limited one-on-one instruction, that support is often narrow in scope consisting of short sessions, focused almost exclusively on math or language, devoid of peer interaction, and stripped of the broader experiences that make school meaningful.

But for many children, school is not primarily about math or language. It is about art, movement, social connection, exploration, and identity. It is about being a student — not only a patient.

The Ronald McDonald House Toronto School offers a comprehensive educational experience that honours the whole child. Students engage in group learning, creative subjects, field trips, and school fairs. These are the rituals and rhythms that make education feel anchoring, connective, and hopeful. This is not enrichment; it is inclusion.

For youth in particular, the stakes are even higher.

Youth, Credits, and the Fragility of the Future

High school education is governed by time. It’s hours logged, credits earned, semesters completed. Illness does not pause these structures. When a youth becomes sick mid-semester, entire courses can be lost. Pathways close quickly, sometimes permanently.
Maintaining educational continuity for youth in treatment requires relentless advocacy with  teachers, guidance counsellors, schools and boards to negotiate flexibility around hours, requirements, and expectations. Without an intermediary like the Ronald McDonald House Toronto School, this advocacy falls entirely on families.

But advocacy alone is not enough.

What fundamentally distinguishes the Ronald McDonald House Toronto School is not just flexibility, it is who defines success.

A Rights-Based Model of Education

At Ronald McDonald House Toronto, education is organized around a question posed directly to the student and their family: What does success look like for you?

Success is not assumed. It is not imposed. It is articulated by the student.

For one child, success may mean completing a credit required to stay in an International Baccalaureate program that defines their future aspirations. For another, it may mean social connections like meeting peers, feeling less isolated, reclaiming a sense of belonging. For another still, it may be completing a final project, not because it is required, but because it matters deeply to who they are.

This is not an Individual Education Plan in the conventional sense. It is not deficit-based or rooted in exceptionality. It is a rights-based model and it’s grounded in the belief that children and youth have a right to education, a right to voice, and a right to shape their own pathway, even — and especially — in the context of illness.

Capacity, requirements, and desire are held in tension. None is privileged above the others. The result is education that is humane, motivating, and meaningful.

What Youth Have Taught Us

Perhaps the most surprising lesson from this work is not how limited young people are by illness, but how clear they are about who they are and where they are going.

When youth are told that there is a way forward, their commitment is striking. Students insist on staying in rigorous academic programs. They persist through treatment. They pursue projects that matter deeply to them. And they do this even when time is uncertain.

One student, facing a critical diagnosis, devoted herself to completing an interior design project. She came in early, stayed late, selected materials, made decisions because finishing is what mattered to her more than anything. It was an act of agency. Of identity. Of hope.

These moments challenge the assumption that education during illness should be reduced, simplified, or deferred. For many young people, education is precisely how they assert their future even in the face of profound uncertainty.

Toward a Different Definition of Educational Success

What the Ronald McDonald House Toronto School demonstrates is not merely a programmatic solution, but a reframing of what education can and should be when young people are placed at the centre.

Success is not measured solely in credits or hours. It is measured in dignity, agency, continuity, and care.

If education systems are serious about equity, they must move beyond symbolic inclusion and address the structural conditions that exclude students whose lives do not conform to institutional norms. This requires flexibility, partnership, and — most importantly — listening.

Youth do not need education systems to make decisions for them. They need systems willing to make decisions with them, in recognition of their insight, resolve, and right to shape their own futures.

That is the real power of youth in co-creating education. And it is a power we can no longer afford to ignore not just on International Day of Education, but every day.