As a parent, I want nothing more than for my children to grow into healthy, happy, purposeful human beings. Yet all around me – in classrooms, in conversation and in alarming statistics – I see many young people struggling rather than flourishing.

In Aotearoa New Zealand, where I live, the numbers paint a stark picture. Unicef ranks us lowest among 36 OECD and EU countries in child mental wellbeing. High levels of bullying and anxiety among young people are said to compound this picture, contributing to depression, school avoidance and isolation.

Global reports tell a similar story, with some economists describing youth happiness “in decline worldwide” . Technology and economic pressures may play a role, but they are not the whole story. A void seems to sit beneath the surface: have we cultivated the intellect but neglected the soul?

What we know about spiritual education

Aotearoa offers a powerful framework for understanding this gap. Te whare tapa whā, a Māori framework for wellbeing, describes life as a house supported by four walls: physical, mental, social and spiritual. Schools tend diligently to the first three. But taha wairua – the spiritual foundation – is often treated as incompatible with secular education.

Yet according to the framework, it is precisely this dimension that gives coherence to the others: wairua is the breath of life and the foundation of identity, belonging and meaning. Without it, the house leans.

Spiritual education does not have to be religious instruction or proselytising. It can begin with a premise found across traditions: every child is a noble soul with spiritual faculties that should be developed.

Most wellbeing programs focus on an individual’s emotional regulation. Important, yes – but spiritual education reaches deeper. It transforms character, strengthens moral agency and orients children towards contributing to the wellbeing of others.

Guiding children to explore their relationship with the sacred – however they understand it – helps them to know who they are and why they matter.

Teaching identity and belonging

Psychologist Dr Lisa Miller, author of The Spiritual Child and The Awakened Brain, argues that spirituality should be considered a core human capacity.

Her work echoes other research that claims young people need experiences of awe, sacredness and moral elevation to thrive. When children feel they belong – to family, community, land, and to a spiritual reality that transcends the self – the epidemic of loneliness, they argue, seems to loosen its grip.

Spiritual education should therefore not be considered a luxury; it should be available to all since it aims to respond to some of the most urgent challenges of our time.

We see this kind of learning emerging, and being strengthened, across cultures and traditions. Māori pedagogies centre wairua. In Buddhist traditions, the breath anchors insight. In Islam and Christianity, the heart is the seat of spiritual perception. In the Bahá’í writings, the human being is described as “a mine rich in gems of inestimable value”, with education as the means to reveal those capacities – not just for personal fulfilment, but for service to humanity.

Some community-led programs reflect this in practice. Globally, including in New Zealand, the Bahá’í Children’s Classes program is offered voluntarily in neighbourhoods and, occasionally, in public schools with parental consent. These classes use stories, reflection, creative expression and simple acts of service that help children practice qualities such as kindness, honesty, courage and cooperation. They also open space for children to relate to a higher reality and to recognise their connection to one human family. Parents often observe their children becoming more confident, thoughtful and socially connected: precisely the qualities our education system struggles to cultivate.

Across diverse traditions, the insight is consistent: children thrive when spiritual faculties are nurtured.

Starting with small, meaningful practices

Spiritual education starts with a shift in how we see the child, and with small, meaningful practices that help cultivate their inner life and relationship with transcendence, such as brief moments of silence or reflection, journalling on gratitude, spending time in nature and optional contemplative practices like meditation.

These practices do not impose belief; they create conditions in which innate spiritual capacities can grow.

Education that develops the mind but neglects the inner life leaves children unanchored in a world that demands depth and moral clarity. And when something so essential is lost in childhood, its absence reverberates across a lifetime, and across generations.

Young people are not asking for more tests or busier timetables. They are hungering for meaning and are asking us – through their questions and their struggles – to remind them of who they truly are.

• Dr Kat Eghdamian is a human rights expert, writer and adviser on religion, ethics and social justice. With experience working across multiple continents, she explores how faith and moral frameworks shape identity and society