Watching foreign films, TV shows, and reading books from other cultures is a way to train, expand and broaden our cultural intelligence. Some years ago, I found myself reflecting on the transformative power of foreign narratives. Having spent much of my life traveling, living, and studying in diverse countries, I’ve always been drawn to the rich tapestry of human culture. My career, particularly my work with immigrants, refugees, and expats, has deepened this connection.

Montessori understood that intelligence does not develop in isolation. It unfolds through interaction with an environment: physical, relational, emotional, and psychological. Modern neuropsychology now confirms what Montessori observed intuitively: learning depends on safety, agency, meaning, and embodied engagement. When these conditions are present, the brain integrates knowledge deeply. This insight becomes essential when we speak about AI and education today.

Here's some deep thoughts on intercultural teaching and the creative spark within human difference. In my work across cultures and higher education environments, I have noticed something both simple and profound: Every genuine intercultural encounter contains the possibility of expanding how we think. Sometimes this happens in obvious ways:a classroom discussion suddenly shifts because a student interprets a concept through an entirely different cultural lens.

Years down the track, I came to realise that my time with the Reggio Emilia method taught me that teaching, when lived fully, is not about control but about culture: a living dialogue between people, ideas, creation, and place. In the Reggio Emilia method, a classroom is called an atelier, meaning a “studio of becoming.” That phrase stayed with me long after I left Italy. Ideally, this is how an auditorium should feel in higher education.

For me, experiencing the Reggio Emilia institutions in Italy was extraordinary, and it left a deep mark on my educational philosophy moving forward. It revealed that education is not only about transferring knowledge; it is about shaping belonging, identity, and connection. These schools embodied the idea that creativity is not a luxury. It is how communities rebuild. It is how learners find their voice, and how societies imagine and build their future.

AI shows us what we’ve neglected: closeness, listening, and humanity itself. Let’s stop making AI the scapegoat for what is missing in us. We are not losing ourselves to artificial intelligence, but we are losing ourselves to artificial connection and most people don’t even notice it happening. We scroll, we click, we respond, we 'connect', yet we feel increasingly alone, unseen, and disconnected. This is not a technological crisis. This is a human crisis of connection and le

Picture Alexandria in its golden age; a bustling port city where ships from Greece, Egypt, North Africa, and the Levant docked daily. The harbour was a mosaic of cultures: Phoenician traders unloading amphorae of wine, Egyptian farmers selling grain by the sack, Greek philosophers deep in debate under the colonnades. In a place like Alexandria, empathy was profitable. Traders who could anticipate the needs, customs, and sensitivities of foreign merchants thrived.

Ancient Malta’s Hypogeum reveals how Neolithic societies engineered the brain for learning, empathy, and long-term thinking. Combining archaeology, neuroscience, and cultural history, Louise Sommer explores how past reward systems shaped human potential — and what we can learn to design better education, leadership, and social systems today. A thought-provoking read for researchers, educators, and innovators.

In a world that increasingly demands innovation, adaptability, and clarity, we often forget that the most powerful solutions come from the ability to think across disciplines. Over the years, I’ve come to realise that my most meaningful work doesn’t live in a single domain. It lives in the spaces between where psychology meets art, where teaching becomes design, and where coaching becomes a shared language of empowered learning. This is what I call creative intelligence in mo