When you think of online education, what comes to mind? Probably a quiet screen, a long slideshow, a one-way lecture, maybe a chat box that only comes alive at the end. Now imagine something else—a shared game, a personal story, a drawing exercise, a moment of laughter in a breakout room, a reflection that stays with you long after the session ends.
That’s the shift that happens when we bring non-formal education into the virtual classroom.
Non-formal education (NFE) is not about delivering information—it’s about creating experiences. Rooted in participation, inclusion, and emotional engagement, it treats learning as a co-created process rather than a top-down transfer of knowledge. And while it traditionally thrives in physical, group-based spaces—youth exchanges, workshops, camps—it has a powerful role to play in digital learning, too.
The question isn’t whether NFE methods can work online. They already do. The real question is: Are we willing to rethink our approach to virtual education so that it feels more alive, more relational, more human?
At the heart of non-formal learning is connection. It’s about meeting people where they are—intellectually, emotionally, and socially. In an online setting, this begins with presence. Facilitators who greet learners by name, invite personal check-ins, and make space for informal moments build trust. And that trust is the gateway to deeper learning.
We’ve seen it in action. A session that starts with a playful “Where in the world are you today?” map exercise immediately transforms a passive group into an active community. A simple storytelling round—“Tell us about a moment when you felt proud of something you created”—turns strangers into co-learners. Creative prompts using drawing tools, music, or movement help participants access parts of themselves that academic discussion often leaves untouched.
It’s not about being entertaining. It’s about making space for meaning.
Peer learning, a cornerstone of NFE, also shines online when given the chance. Young people teaching each other through small group discussions, project-based tasks, and digital collaboration boards build not only knowledge but confidence. When participants feel that their voice matters—that they are not just learning from someone, but with each other—the dynamic shifts. Energy rises. Ownership grows.
In more formal online environments, there’s often fear that introducing games or creative activities will seem unprofessional. But what if we redefined professionalism to include curiosity, play, and humanity? A short energizer or a collaborative quiz can do more than break the ice—it can melt the stiffness that keeps people from engaging fully.
Even academic content benefits from non-formal approaches. A discussion on climate change can come alive when students co-create a fictional future city. A lesson on digital citizenship becomes personal when framed as a collaborative podcast or a “choose your own adventure” scenario. Reflection journals, audio diaries, and peer feedback loops allow learners to process content in ways that go far beyond memorisation.
And what about inclusion? NFE methods often cater to different learning styles—visual, verbal, kinaesthetic, reflective. In an online space, this matters even more. Not everyone thrives in lecture-heavy formats. By offering multiple ways to interact—through text, image, sound, or movement—we expand who gets to participate meaningfully.
There are challenges, of course. Internet access, platform limitations, screen fatigue. But these are not barriers to creativity. They are invitations. We’ve seen facilitators run impactful sessions with nothing more than a shared document and a breakout room. We’ve seen games designed on Google Slides, improv activities done with virtual backgrounds, and storytelling circles that felt as intimate as any in-person campfire.
What makes the difference is not the technology. It’s the mindset.
A mindset that values interaction over instruction. Process over perfection. Inclusion over control. A mindset that believes education is not just about what we know—but how we connect, how we grow, how we feel.
In the SWITCH project, we’ve watched young people and educators rediscover joy, depth, and creativity through non-formal methods—even across screens. And each time it happens, it reminds us: learning doesn’t need walls. It needs heart.
Because when we stop treating online education as a limitation and start seeing it as a canvas, the possibilities open wide.
Not formal. Not informal. But fully human.