On November 27, we had the chance to attend a conference that did more than just talk about participation – it questioned its very foundations. Held at the Canòdrom – Ateneo of Digital and Democratic Innovation in Barcelona, the celebration of the 2025 International Day of the Educating City brought together a diverse group of professionals: public administrators, researchers, educators, and advocates for children’s rights. The central question: Children’s Participation in the Educating City – Wish or Reality?

At Estel Cooperative, we’ve spent years working with youth councils, children’s forums, and local governments. We believe in participation not as an accessory, but as a transformative right. Still, this gathering reminded us how far we must go—and how much we can learn from others.

The keynote speaker, Cath Larkins, put it plainly:

“You can’t engage in a process designed to enhance democracy unless you’re telling children what’s going on—or explaining what’s not possible.”

This resonated deeply. In our own work, we’ve seen how often children are invited to speak—but not to influence. How “consultation” can stand in for real collaboration. The challenge isn’t just opening space—it’s sharing power.

Cath invited us to rethink participation not as a checklist, but as a continuous, reflective practice.

“Sometimes we think we need to start from scratch,” she said, “but children have already told us so much. What we need is to bank that knowledge – a library of their ideas, ready to inform fast-moving decisions.”

But this isn’t just about efficiency. It’s about justice. Larkins argued that when timescales are tight, we should centre the children who are most often left out – those most affected by inequality and systemic barriers.

From Ideas to Impact: Lessons from Three Cities

What made this conference special was not just the theory—it was the rich, concrete examples from cities that are walking the talk.

Turin: Participation as Citizenship Education

Fausto Sorino shared the Children’s City Council of Turin—an impressive model where students aged 10 to 14 participate in structured political processes. This is not a mock exercise. These young citizens debate rights, environment, inclusion, and technology, and they formulate proposals that are presented to adult municipal authorities.

“The council becomes a new reference point in the neighbourhood,” he noted, “a bridge between children, institutions, and community spaces.”

It is a school of democracy embedded in the everyday life of the city—a way for children to learn not only how institutions work, but how they can influence them.

Geneva: Data, Design, and Dignity

Isabelle Widmer brought the Geneva experience to life through a powerful case study: a city-wide participatory process to improve the midday break in schools. Over 7,500 children were engaged through interviews, peer-led surveys, photo-elicitation, and group discussions.

The findings were clear: “The midday break, meant to be a pause, was actually a source of stress, noise, and surveillance.”

Children’s input reshaped the city’s understanding of what was failing—and more importantly, what needed to change. Participation here wasn’t decoration. It was transformation, backed by political will and scientific method.

Widmer’s message was clear:

“The quality of our projects improves with the perspective of children. And sometimes, their words are the only way adults can finally listen to each other.”

Geneva’s approach emphasised not just inclusion but representation—ensuring children from all neighbourhoods, social classes, and cultural backgrounds had a voice. And they’re still learning.

“We no longer obsess over being at the top of the participation ladder,” she said. “What matters is ensuring children are somewhere on that ladder—and that it leads somewhere real.”

Rivas Vaciamadrid: Participation as Inclusion

Lorena Chamizo Sánchez from Rivas Vaciamadrid shifted the focus to equity. The city’s work with children from Cañada Real, an informal settlement near Madrid, underscored the need to meet communities where they are—not just physically, but culturally, socially, and emotionally.

“Diversity is not a barrier to participation. It’s the reason for it,” she said.

Their Children’s Forum offers spaces for kids aged 6–18 to participate in civic life, with special emphasis on ensuring access for children from vulnerable communities. Timing of sessions, printed materials for non-digital households, involvement of community mothers as translators—every detail reflects an ethic of care and adaptability.

Participation in Rivas is not limited to council chambers. It includes skateparks co-designed by youth, citywide celebrations like the Noche Iluminada (a reimagined holiday to include all cultures), and informal networks among families across backgrounds.

“When children from Cañada and other parts of the city meet, play, and collaborate, something beautiful happens,” Chamizo said. “A new urban culture begins to emerge—one that belongs to everyone.”

At Estel, This Felt Like Home

Much of what we heard echoed the lessons we’ve gathered from working with municipalities and youth across Catalonia. We’ve seen children build proposals that shaped public spaces, draft statements on climate and digital rights, and challenge adult biases around what they can do.

But we also know how fragile these spaces can be. Participation without structure, support, and political backing quickly becomes performance. That’s why we invest in processes that are intentional, long-term, and rooted in community.

The conference reminded us of the bigger picture: that children’s participation is not about fixing local problems—it’s about reimagining democracy.

Cath Larkins closed with a reminder we’ll carry forward:

“It’s not an easy thing. It’s an exciting thing. And when we’re struggling, we can learn from each other.”

Because children are not asking for perfect cities. They are asking to be seen, heard, and respected as the people they already are.

If we want cities where every child feels they belong, we need to ask harder questions and make bolder choices.

• Are we giving children real agency—or just safe topics?
• Are our spaces inclusive across language, class, race, and ability?
• Are we holding ourselves accountable when participation doesn’t lead to action?

We’re proud to walk this path with others who are committed, reflective, and ready to learn. And we’re always looking to connect with those rethinking what it means to educate a city—starting with those who often have the least say in it.

Let’s keep learning. Let’s keep building. And let’s keep asking:
What kind of city are we co-creating—and who gets to shape it?