When I graduated high school in Belgium, there was one clear expectation: go to university. It wasn’t even a choice. It was just what everyone did. Our education system, although strained, is undeniably strong. We invest tremendously in our students, spending between €1 500 to €1 800 every single month during the academic year. That’s almost €15 000 each year per student, multiplied over three to five years. But lately, I’ve been haunted by one question: Is this the only path worth investing in?
I started thinking about all the friends I had who didn’t fit into that mold: brilliant people, bursting with energy and ideas, yet sitting uncomfortably in lecture halls designed for someone else’s dreams. What about those who wanted to forge their own paths, perhaps start their own ventures right away? Who invests in them?
Imagine being nineteen, fresh out of high school, with a head full of dreams and ambition but limited resources. Now imagine someone handing you €45 000. Simply to test, experiment, and learn through entrepreneurship. At nineteen, even €5 000 would’ve felt life-changing for me.
But of course, higher education isn’t just about lessons and degrees. It’s about the lifelong friendships forged in crowded dorm rooms, spontaneous adventures, late-night conversations that shape who you become. It’s about serendipity and finding your identity in unexpected moments. Can entrepreneurship offer something similar, something as meaningful?
What if we imagined an entirely different kind of educational environment? A community designed for young innovators in stead of classrooms led by expensive faculty buried in paperwork and tests. Spaces that give budding entrepreneurs resources, mentorship, and most importantly, the permission and freedom to fail and learn. A place driven by curiosity and passion for forward motion.
Sure, I admit this might sound like Silicon Valley meets Hogwarts. A bit idealistic. Perhaps naïve. Yet, isn’t true education fundamentally about experimentation, exploration, and growth?
Maybe the future doesn’t demand an overhaul of traditional education. But maybe—just maybe—it deserves room for another path, another choice, another dream. Perhaps investing in people’s passions rather than strictly their diplomas is not only possible but necessary. What would happen if we genuinely gave young people the resources to chase their unique visions early on?