Good education only needs to accomplish one thing—helping children find their passion.

The rest is up to them.

I. A motorcyclist taught me what education really means.

Recently, Zhang Xue's name has been all over the internet.

He is a motorcyclist. Ordinary background, no money, not a genius, no powerful connections. But he achieved what many geniuses couldn't—becoming the world's best in his field.

After reading his story, my first reaction wasn't simply being moved or touched—it was profound shock.

Because I suddenly realized: his success had nothing to do with education, resources, or intelligence.

His success came down to just one thing: he found what he most wanted to do in life and pursued it single-mindedly.

Motorcycles. Just those two words. Anything unrelated to motorcycles, even if it was related to making money or fame, he didn't care. He dedicated his life to studying motorcycles.

He's lost, been hurt, and been betrayed, but he's never given up.

I even have a somewhat counterintuitive take: it was precisely because of his impoverished background that he achieved what he did. Because he had no way out, no "Plan B" to rely on, he poured all his passion into his one true love.

Conversely, many of our children today—despite having better conditions and more choices—find themselves increasingly lost.

It's not because they don't work hard enough, but because no one has ever helped them find that worthwhile thing to strive for.

II. I've asked hundreds of children, "What do you like?" — 80% couldn't answer.

Working in education, I have a habit.

Every time a parent brings their child to see me, before discussing applications and schools, I always ask the child a few questions:

What do you like?

What don't you like?

What kind of person do you want to be when you grow up?

Do you know what most children's reaction is?

Silence. A blank look at their parents, then at me.

Even those children with excellent grades, constantly praised, and who study until late every night often can't answer. They don't know what they like.

It's not that they're stupid or lazy; it's because no one has ever asked them that question.

They are only ever asked: What was your final exam score? Why did you get that question wrong? What was your ranking this time?

They pour all their energy into meeting others' expectations of them, but never have time to think about what they themselves want.

This isn't an isolated phenomenon. It's a common predicament for almost an entire generation of children.

And we name this predicament "not working hard enough" or "not being self-disciplined enough," but never bother to find the root cause.

A child who doesn't even know what they like—where will they direct their efforts?

III. My Own Detours

Speaking of which, I want to share my own story.

When I was studying in China, I was a typical "good student": good grades, obedient, and never causing trouble for teachers.

I also tried hard to prove myself, wanting my parents to think I was a good child.

But I was also the kind of child who, if you asked, "What do you like to do most?" would be stumped.

I didn't know. No one had ever asked me that question, nor did I need to think about it.

Later, when I studied in the UK, someone asked me for the first time in earnest: What are you interested in? What do you think you're good at?

I was speechless for a moment. That was the first time I realized how important the subject "I" was.

My feelings, my interests, my passions—all my learning and work should originate from these.

Later still, at 33, I started my own business and found my true passion: international education. I also moved to Bangkok with my child. I slowly realized:

I took many detours because I spent too much time doing "what others wanted me to do," instead of "what excites me to think about."

This is why, when choosing a school for my child, I placed "whether this school can help my child find their passion" above "rankings."

IV. The Real Advantages of International Education

In recent years, I've met many parents who consulted me, giving various reasons—English environment, safety and stability, future applications to European and American universities...

These are all valid. But I think these are "results," not "causes." What truly solidifies my belief in the value of international education is its underlying logic:

Its purpose isn't to create a batch of test-taking whizzes, but to help each child find their own niche.

Specifically, it employs several mechanisms:

First, Project-Based Learning (PBL). From a young age, children research, make choices, and defend their solutions around topics that interest them. This process itself trains their ability to perceive "what I'm truly interested in."

Second, ample extracurricular space. Many international schools end classes at 2:30 PM. This isn't a "waste of time," but rather giving children time to explore themselves. Clubs, art, sports, crafts… these seemingly "unimportant" things are often where children discover their passions.

If Zhang Xue were attending an international school, after 2:30 PM, he would likely dedicate all his time to researching motorcycles. He might even start a motorcycle club, recruiting a group of similarly fascinated children. Teachers, instead of saying "Don't get distracted, focus on your studies," would help him connect with external experts and take them to competitions.

Only in this kind of environment could someone like Zhang Xue grow.

Third, the teacher's role is different. In international education, teachers are more of a guide than a transmitter of knowledge. They ask children: What do you think? What do you want to do? Do you have any different opinions?

An example from my own child: One day he came home and told me that the teacher asked them, "If you were to design the school, what would you improve?" The children said, "There aren't enough play facilities after class." The teacher said, "Okay, you design them."

Then I saw a model that looked like a professional model, filled with the imaginative ideas of an eight-year-old.

At that moment, I thought—this is what education should be like. It's not about how many points you get on a test, but about what's truly in your heart.

Driven by interest, solving real-world problems—this is what I believe is truly valuable education in the AI era.

V. Passion is not a luxury; it's a necessity.

I know some people will say that finding passion is something only the wealthy can afford. For ordinary families, getting good grades is the priority.

I disagree with this logic.

Zhang Xue's story illustrates the opposite: Passion isn't a luxury you can only possess after you have the necessary resources; passion itself is the condition that helps you overcome difficulties.

A child who has found their passion learns self-driven learning. They don't need to be urged or forced, because they know what mastering the subject means to them.

A child without passion, no matter how good the resources you provide, is merely going through the motions.

Zhang Xue lacked resources, but he had passion. Therefore, he succeeded.

Our children today have resources, but many lack passion. This is the real crisis.

Our society desperately needs role models like Zhang Xue. Not because of the number of awards he's won, but because he tells this generation of young people: find what you truly love, and then dedicate yourself to it relentlessly, even if the whole world doesn't believe in you.

In conclusion, after so many years in education, I'm increasingly convinced of one thing: Helping children find their passion is the best gift parents can give them, bar none.

Not the most expensive school, not the highest scores, not the most impressive resume.

One day, they will know why they live, why they study, and why they are willing to persevere through the toughest times.

If your child is currently at this crossroads—unsure of what they like or what their goals are—or if you're struggling with whether to send your child to an international school... feel free to talk to me.

I may not have a standard answer, but together we can help your child find their own answer.