From Compliance to Cultivation: How Principals’ Values Shape Communities of Practice for Inclusion in Market-Driven Kindergartens

Abstract

Leadership plays a decisive role in shaping inclusive cultures in early childhood education, yet its influence operates through complex social mechanisms beyond formal policy implementation. This qualitative case study applies Communities of Practice (CoP) theory to examine how leadership values shape the practices, relationships and collaborative dynamics of two kindergartens in a competitive, market-driven system. Through the CoP lens, we demonstrate how values-based leadership mediates between policy frameworks and actual inclusive practice. Our findings illuminate how leadership influence flows through community sponsorship, shapes professional identities, and either enables or constrains collaboration across professional boundaries. The study reveals significant contrasts between leadership focused on policy compliance and leadership that cultivates inclusive communities through ‘principled pragmatism’. It demonstrates how leaders navigate tensions between market pressures and inclusive values, contributing to understanding how CoP theory illuminates leadership processes that sustain inclusive communities through cultivation rather than individual competencies alone.

1. Introduction

Leadership plays a critical role in shaping inclusive school cultures, yet its influence often operates through complex and nuanced mechanisms beyond formal policy implementation. A substantial body of scholarship has identified various leadership styles including collaborative, distributed, transformational, democratic, and social justice approaches that appear to facilitate inclusive education (Ainscow & Sandill, 2010; DeMatthews et al., 2020; McGlynn & London, 2013). However, these style-based approaches reveal significant limitations when applied across diverse educational contexts, with their effectiveness remaining heavily dependent on contextual factors, available resources, and systemic constraints (Hall, 2013; Wan et al., 2018). More fundamentally, leadership decisions, values, and understandings of inclusion significantly influence teacher identity, collaboration, and day-to-day practice (Ainscow et al., 2012; Szeto & Cheng, 2018), yet existing research has insufficiently examined the underlying values that drive these decisions and shape how inclusion is understood and enacted within school communities.

Rather than being exercised solely through top-down mandates, leadership often operates through subtle cues embedded in relationships, routines, and school-wide expectations (Spillane, 2006). While considerable literature explores educational leadership and values generally (Day et al., 2001; Fullan, 2003), and inclusive education separately, fewer studies examine the intersection of these areas, particularly through theoretical frameworks that illuminate how leadership creates conditions for collaborative inclusive practice. This gap becomes especially pronounced in early childhood education (ECE) contexts operating under market pressures, where leaders must navigate complex tensions between financial sustainability, parental expectations, curriculum demands, and inclusive values.

This study uses Communities of Practice (CoP) theory (Wenger, 1998) to examine how leadership facilitates or limits inclusive practices. CoP theory highlights learning as a social process, shaped by mutual engagement, shared purpose, and collective meaning-making. From this perspective, leadership is less about giving direction and more about creating conditions for participation, trust, and identity development (Wenger et al., 2002; Smith et al., 2019). While CoP theory has been applied to educational leadership generally (Carpenter, 2015) and to inclusive education in some contexts (Botha & Kourkoutas, 2016), the role of positional authority and executive sponsorship in shaping inclusive communities of practice remains theoretically underdeveloped, especially regarding how leadership values mediate between institutional constraints and community development.

Hong Kong’s early childhood education (ECE) sector, entirely privately run and heavily influenced by market forces, offers a compelling site for investigating these questions about inclusive leadership (Poon-McBrayer, 2017; Westwood, 2021). This study explores how two kindergarten leaders engage with inclusion under these tensions, examining how their values shape the social conditions necessary for collaborative inclusive practice. We argue that leadership for inclusion must be understood not just as policy execution but as a values-driven, relational practice that shapes how inclusion is lived and learned within school communities.

This work contributes across multiple research domains. It provides empirical insights into how values-based leadership enables or constrains inclusive communities, addresses theoretical gaps regarding power dynamics and positional authority in CoP and illuminates how leaders navigate ethical dilemmas when inclusive values conflict with market imperatives. These insights hold particular significance given the global trend toward marketisation in early childhood education and the challenge of translating inclusive policy into authentic practice across diverse educational contexts where leaders must balance competing demands while pursuing inclusive ideals.

We examine leadership for inclusion in Hong Kong kindergartens through two questions. Research question 1 (RQ 1): How do principals’ values shape the development and functioning of communities of practice for inclusion in Hong Kong’s market-driven early childhood education sector? Research question 2 (RQ 2): How do principals navigate tensions between market pressures and inclusive values in cultivating communities of practice for children with special educational needs?

2. Leadership for Inclusion

Scholars have identified several leadership styles that appear to facilitate inclusion, including collaborative, distributed, transformational, democratic, and social justice leadership. For example, Ainscow and Sandill (2010) and McGlynn and London (2013) argue that collaborative and distributed leadership, which emphasizes collective engagement, shared responsibility, and broader ownership of inclusion, underscores that effective inclusive education cannot rely solely on individual leaders but requires active participation from teachers, parents, and students. This approach recognizes that inclusion is fundamentally a collective endeavor requiring sustained engagement across multiple stakeholders. Similarly, Devecchi and Nevin (2010) contend that transformational leadership contributes by fostering an inspiring inclusive vision that motivates stakeholders to embrace inclusive practices, with leaders employing this style working to transform organizational culture and individual mindsets, creating conditions where inclusive values can flourish. Democratic leadership enhances this vision by involving stakeholders in decision-making processes, fostering participatory cultures supportive of inclusion. Meanwhile, DeMatthews et al. (2020) argue that social justice leadership complements these approaches by actively confronting structural inequities, advocating for equitable resources, culturally responsive education, and anti-discriminatory practices. This approach directly addresses systemic barriers faced by marginalized groups, positioning leadership as a force for structural change. Each style offers distinct approaches to promoting inclusive education and has demonstrated effectiveness in various contexts.

While these leadership styles provide valuable frameworks for understanding inclusive practice, their effectiveness depends significantly on contextual factors such as school culture, available resources, staff readiness for change, and systemic constraints. Distributed leadership may operate differently in hierarchical systems compared to flatter organizational structures (Hall, 2013; Wan et al., 2018). Transformational leadership may manifest differently depending on organizational stability and succession planning (Gunter, 2001). Democratic leadership requires consideration of stakeholder capacity, time availability, and cultural readiness for meaningful participation. Social justice leadership must navigate varying degrees of systemic resistance and institutional constraints. These contextual variations suggest that focusing solely on leadership behaviors and styles may provide an incomplete understanding of how leadership influences inclusive practice.

The observation that similar leadership styles can produce different outcomes across contexts points to the need for deeper analysis of what drives leadership actions and decisions. Rather than examining only the external manifestations of leadership behavior, understanding inclusive leadership requires exploring the underlying motivational frameworks that guide how leaders interpret situations, prioritize competing demands, and make decisions when faced with dilemmas. This deeper layer of analysis moves beyond the question of ‘what do inclusive leaders do?’ to ask ‘what drives inclusive leaders to act as they do?’ Such an approach recognizes that effective inclusive leadership emerges not merely from adopting particular behavioral patterns, but from the values, beliefs, and ethical commitments that shape how leaders understand their role and navigate the complex tensions inherent in inclusive education.

3. The Case for Values-Based Leadership

We argue that analyses of leadership styles, while providing valuable insights into effective practices, require deeper examination of the values that drive leadership decisions and actions to fully understand how leadership relates to inclusion. Leadership styles describe what leaders do, but values-based analysis illuminates why they make particular choices when navigating the complex dilemmas inherent in inclusive education. Values provide the ethical foundation that guides leaders through the often contradictory demands of inclusive education, allowing for flexible behavioral responses while maintaining consistent ethical commitments.

This perspective builds on substantial literature demonstrating that educational leadership is fundamentally moral work. Scholars such as Fullan (2003) and Day et al. (2001) have long recognized that leaders’ values fundamentally influence their approaches to change and improvement. Dewey (1939) seminally conceptualized values as dynamic beliefs that mediate actions and guide decision-making in specific contexts, noting that they are formed and reformed through ongoing appraisal of situations. This dynamic quality is particularly relevant for inclusive education, where leaders must continuously negotiate competing priorities such as individual needs versus group demands, standardization versus differentiation, and market pressures versus equity commitments.

In educational settings, leaders function as what Greenfield (1986) terms ‘value-carriers’ who both influence and reflect their school’s values. Willower (1992) adds that educational leadership often involves rejecting certain actions to pursue more desirable, value-driven alternatives. Values-based leadership thus positions values as the navigational compass that helps leaders maintain ethical coherence while adapting their approaches to contextual demands—whether employing collaborative, directive, or transformational behaviors as situations require.

For inclusive education specifically, this values-centered approach addresses a critical concern. Inclusion is fundamentally a value-laden agenda encompassing commitments to equity, fairness, respect, and social justice (Booth, 2011; Ainscow & Miles, 2008). Yet without explicit attention to how leaders prioritize and negotiate these values in practice, inclusive efforts risk becoming compliance exercises that fail to transform underlying attitudes and relationships. Ainscow et al. (2012) argue that effective inclusive leadership requires leaders to critically reflect upon their values and ethical assumptions, integrating these reflections into everyday decisions. This values-practice alignment becomes the foundation for authentic inclusive cultures that can withstand external pressures and leadership transitions.

However, values-based leadership is not without challenges. Values can conflict with each other, vary across cultural contexts, and risk becoming rhetorical rather than operational. The key contribution of a values-based approach lies not in providing prescriptive solutions, but in offering a framework for understanding how leaders navigate these tensions and make decisions when faced with competing demands—precisely the situation that defines inclusive education in contemporary educational systems.

4. Connecting Communities of Practice Theory to Leadership for Inclusion

Wenger’s (1998) CoP theory provides a distinctive theoretical lens for understanding leadership in inclusive educational contexts. Central to CoP theory are the concepts of mutual engagement, joint enterprise, and shared repertoire, through which communities are defined by interactions, shared purposes, and collectively negotiated practices. CoP theory emphasizes learning as socially situated, collaborative, and participatory, aligning closely with Vygotsky’s (1978) sociocultural theories that view learning as socially and culturally mediated.

We propose that applying CoP theory to leadership could reveal unique insights into how inclusive education can be fostered through relational dynamics and shared meaning-making processes. Wenger et al. (2002) argue that leadership within CoPs differs fundamentally from hierarchical authority, framing leaders instead as enablers or facilitators who nurture conditions conducive to community-building, trust, and collective learning while managing relational dynamics and promoting mutual accountability (Smith et al., 2019). However, educational settings present particular challenges for organic community development that require careful consideration of how formal structures interact with collaborative processes.

4.1. The Need for CoP Leadership Cultivation

Although Wenger initially proposed that CoPs can grow spontaneously from shared concerns (Wenger, 1998; Wenger et al., 2002), mounting evidence reveals systematic barriers that make leadership intervention essential in educational contexts. Li et al. (2009) argue that organizational hierarchies create unequal participation and power distribution within CoPs, while members’ engagement becomes compromised when they are in direct competition or participate in multiple communities with conflicting goals and politics. Cultural factors further complicate development, as Ardichvili et al. (2005) show how knowledge sharing can be inhibited by concerns for face-saving, modesty, and distrust of outsiders—particularly relevant in diverse educational settings where teachers may feel vulnerable exposing their practice to scrutiny.

Moreover, Ainscow and Sandill (2010) argue that guidance in discussions of practice and common agendas is necessary to help communities establish sustainable ways of working together. The transition from shared interests to shared values requires active negotiation and mediation (Ardichvili et al., 2005; Peters & Cornu, 2005). Shih et al. (2017) reinforce this by noting that CoP norms and values are inevitably shaped by the broader organizational context, meaning that understanding community practice requires examining the wider social structure in which it is situated. These challenges led Wenger et al. (2002) to acknowledge that organizational communities benefit from deliberate cultivation, asserting that while some communities grow spontaneously, others require “careful seeding” (p. 13), and uncultivated communities are “apt to have less impact” (p. 13).

4.2. Sponsorship as the Critical Leadership Function

In CoP theory, sponsorship diverges sharply from its common organizational usage. Rather than referring to a funding arrangement with deliverables and hierarchical oversight, sponsorship represents an enabling leadership relationship that links a community to organizational strategy while preserving its autonomy. Sponsors do not establish reporting lines; instead, they secure resources, remove barriers, and ensure that community ideas circulate across the organization, operating as a connect-and-protect conduit rather than a managerial tier (Wenger, 2004; Wenger et al., 2002). In this sense, sponsorship can be defined as the provision—by a senior organizational actor—of resources, access, and institutional support that legitimizes a CoP, aligns it with strategic priorities, and enables participation without directing its work (Wenger, 2004; Snyder & Wenger, 2003; Snyder et al., 2003). Sponsors are senior leaders who, without instituting formal supervision, secure resources, broker value negotiations, and confer legitimacy so that CoPs remain autonomous yet strategically integrated (Wenger, 2004; Wenger et al., 2002; Snyder & Wenger, 2003; Snyder et al., 2003). As Snyder et al. (2003) emphasize, this relationship functions more as a strategic alliance within an informal, knowledge-based structure than as a traditional reporting relationship (p. 3).

Recognizing that CoPs require cultivation positions sponsorship as the core leadership mechanism for overcoming barriers to organic development, particularly in complex educational contexts. As Snyder and Wenger (2003) develop extensively, executive sponsorship is essential because it directly addresses the power, cultural, and value-negotiation challenges that often hinder community formation. Sponsorship operates through three interlocking functions that systematically address these barriers: investment, in which sponsors provide time, funding, and access to offset power imbalances and competing demands; guidance, in which they facilitate value negotiations so that shared interests evolve into shared commitments without exerting operational control; and legitimacy, in which they use positional authority to create psychological safety, validate diverse participation, and navigate bureaucratic systems (Snyder & Wenger, 2003). Effective sponsors further integrate CoPs into organizational goals, protect them from bureaucratic constraints, build community capabilities, provide policy direction, encourage participation, allocate resources, advocate initiatives to stakeholders, and align communities with organizational systems (Snyder & Wenger, 2003; Snyder et al., 2003). For these functions to succeed, sponsorship must come from high-status, powerful sources capable of legitimizing and safeguarding the CoP’s role within the broader organization. This emphasis on positional power underscores CoP theory’s recognition of the institutional dynamics that shape community formation (Snyder & Wenger, 2003, p. 11).

4.3. Sponsorship in Educational Contexts—The Principal’s Critical Role

In educational settings, the principal’s sponsorship role becomes especially critical because schools inherit complex management structures, accountability pressures, and diverse stakeholder interests that create particularly challenging environments for organic community development. Even when CoPs develop organically around inclusive education, they must navigate the school’s existing culture, policies, and power structures. The principal’s decisions inevitably shape CoP operations through creating collaborative cultures, allocating resources, and establishing shared values that either support or constrain inclusive practices.

This sponsorship function extends beyond formal authority to enabling the relational dynamics and social learning that allow inclusive communities of practice to thrive. It requires principals to actively mediate between competing demands, protect emerging communities from bureaucratic interference, and create conditions where diverse perspectives can be negotiated into shared commitments around inclusive education. Yet this process requires careful balance—while sponsorship provides necessary legitimacy and resources, excessive control can undermine the collaborative spirit essential to CoP development.

4.4. The Distinctive Contribution of CoP for Leadership Analysis

The CoP framework offers a distinctive approach to leadership study by reconceptualizing leadership influence as the strategic cultivation of social conditions rather than direct instruction or policy implementation. This perspective highlights how leaders create conditions for trust, negotiate competing interests, mediate cultural differences, and facilitate the transition from individual concerns to collective commitment—processes that are particularly critical in inclusive education contexts where success depends on sustained collaboration across diverse perspectives and competing pressures.

While studies have applied CoP theory to educational leadership generally (e.g., Carpenter, 2015; Cooper et al., 2010) and explored inclusive education through CoP approaches (e.g., Botha & Kourkoutas, 2016), fewer studies have specifically examined how leadership values shape CoP development for inclusive practice through sponsorship functions. The intersection of values-based leadership and CoP theory in inclusive education contexts, particularly in early childhood settings facing market pressures, represents a relatively underexplored area requiring empirical investigation of how sponsorship enables or constrains the development of inclusive communities of practice. This study addresses this gap.

5. Study Context

Inclusive education for children with SEN in Hong Kong’s ECE sector is deeply shaped by the system’s financing and governance. All kindergartens are privately run—either by voluntary agencies or private enterprises—and children attend K1–K3 in half-day or whole-day modes between ages three and six (Education Bureau, 2023). Kindergartens are categorized as not-for-profit (NPM) or private independent schools; only NPM kindergartens can join the Kindergarten Education Scheme (KES) introduced in 2017, through which participating schools receive direct government subsidies. Subsidies are tied to enrolment. Schools may charge tuition to cover costs not met by KES, with whole-day fees functioning as a primary revenue stream for ongoing operations (Education Bureau, 2016). While KES can relieve some pressures, financial viability remains contingent on sustaining enrolments (Yuen et al., 2022).

In this competitive, market-driven landscape, school leaders face pressure to balance budgets, satisfy academically ambitious parents, and protect school reputations (Lee & Manzon, 2014; Westwood, 2021). These pressures often shape admissions practices, with many kindergartens screening for developmental “readiness,” which can exclude children with SEN from enrolment (Poon-McBrayer, 2017; Westwood, 2021). Even when children with SEN are admitted, inclusive practice is uneven and frequently constrained by limited resources, large class sizes, and insufficient teacher preparation (Equal Opportunities Commission, 2012; Hsieh et al., 2017). Teachers commonly report lacking confidence and skills to differentiate instruction for complex needs (Westwood, 2021; Beamish et al., 2024).

Within this context, school leaders navigate persistent dilemmas—reconciling inclusive values with market forces, curriculum expectations, parental demands, and resource constraints. Some leaders may endorse inclusion in principle yet feel constrained by budget limits, staffing shortages, and performance accountability, leading to cautious or selective approaches that undercut equity and access (Poon-McBrayer, 2017).

Despite these challenges, leadership remains pivotal in shaping inclusive culture and practice. Leaders who prioritize collaboration with SEN professionals, invest in teacher learning, and cultivate a shared vision for inclusion can mitigate systemic barriers (Poon-McBrayer, 2013; Szeto & Cheng, 2018). The On-site Pre-school Rehabilitation Services (OPRS)—Hong Kong’s most comprehensive early-intervention model—deploys multidisciplinary teams into kindergartens to support children and build teacher capacity (Social Welfare Department, 2022). Effective integration of OPRS depends on principals’ ability to coordinate planning, foster mutual respect, and embed shared learning into daily routines, aligning with communities-of-practice approaches (Wenger, 1998; Poon-McBrayer, 2013). Recent studies continue to document the tension between inclusive ideals and the marketized realities of Hong Kong’s ECE system (Yuen et al., 2022).

6. Study Design

This qualitative multiple case study was conducted in two local kindergartens in Hong Kong, with interviews as the primary method of data collection. A multiple case study approach was chosen to enable in-depth exploration of leadership for inclusion within real-life, context-bound settings (Creswell, 2014). This design supports a holistic understanding of leadership practices by examining the lived experiences of individuals in social environments (Suryani, 2013; White et al., 2009). The CoP theoretical framework guided both data collection and analysis, with particular attention to how shared practices, mutual engagement, and joint enterprise manifested in leadership for inclusion across the school communities. Aligned to our aims, RQ1 (“How do principals’ values shape the development and functioning of communities of practice for inclusion in Hong Kong’s market-driven early childhood education sector?”) is examined through within-case, theory-guided thematic analysis that traces CoP mechanisms. RQ2 (“How do principals navigate tensions between market pressures and inclusive values in cultivating communities of practice for children with special educational needs?”) is examined through cross-case patterning that compares enabling and constraining conditions.

7. Sampling and Data Collection

As noted by Miles et al. (2014), case studies typically involve small, contextually embedded samples studied in depth. This exploratory research did not presume the presence of inclusive values or practices in the selected schools. Schools were purposefully chosen based on several criteria: being a local kindergarten, having a history of enrolling children with SEN, participation in SEN-related programs, and having a long-serving principal to allow leadership patterns to emerge. Full access for in-depth investigation was also essential.

Two schools—referred to as Thornhill Kindergarten and Brightwood Kindergarten—participated in the study (See Table 1). Participants included two principals, two head teachers, seven teachers, and five SEN professionals (See Table 2). Multiple observations of inclusive practices and participant interactions took place in classrooms and shared school spaces. Document analysis was also conducted to triangulate findings and provide supplementary insights. Data collection was guided by the CoP framework, focusing on observing shared practices, mutual engagement patterns, and evidence of joint enterprise in inclusive education. The study focused on how leaders employ and negotiate values in decision-making, especially when faced with dilemmas that require trade-offs. Each principal was interviewed three times over the course of the study—at the beginning, middle, and end—to build depth and ensure triangulation. Most other participants were interviewed twice, before and after observations, except for two who exited the study due to withdrawal or transfer (See Table 3).

Table 1. Participant School profiles.

	Thornhill Kindergarten	Brightwood Kindergarten
Kindergarten Education Scheme Eligibility (i.e., local non-profit making schools)	Eligible & Joined	Eligible & Joined
On-site Preschool Rehabilitation Service (OPRS) (i.e., SEN student support)	Joined	Joined
School Category	Not-for-profit	Not-for-profit
	Thornhill Kindergarten	Brightwood Kindergarten
Student Category	Co-educational	Co-educational
Total no. of Permitted Accommodation of Classrooms in Use	508	186
Number of Registered Classrooms	14	9
Other Special Room(s)/Area(s)	Multiple intelligence activities corner, Nature and science corner, Reading area, Role play area	Performance stage, African drumming corner, Science corner, Drama corner, Bicycle track
Total No. of Principal & Teaching Staff	40	14
Quality Review: Result and Report	Meeting the prescribed standards	Meeting the prescribed standards
No. of Qualification of Principal & Teaching Staff
	Thornhill Kindergarten	Brightwood Kindergarten
Degree Holders	58%	64%
Non-degree holders	40%	36%
C(ECE) or above	98%	93%
Qualified KG teachers	0	7%
Other teaching trainings	0	0
Qualified assistant KG teachers	0	0
Others	0	0
Enrolment
2–3 years old
Nursery (a.m.)	85	13
Nursery (p.m.)	17	0
Nursery (Whole day)	30	31
Nursery Total	132/460	44/152
3–4 years old
Lower KG (a.m.)	90	21
Lower KG (p.m.)	27	0
Lower KG (Whole Day)	30	33
Lower KG Total	147/460	54/152
4–5 years old
Upper KG (a.m.)	113	16
Upper KG (p.m.)	23	0
Upper KG (Whole Day)	45	38
Upper KG Total	181/460	54/152
Total Enrolment Numbers	460	152

Table 2. List of Interview Participants.

Interviewee Profiles
	Thornhill Kindergarten	Brightwood Kindergarten
School Principal	Phyllis	Jade
Years of service in current school:	5 years	10 years
Years of teaching experience	5 years	4 years
Years of school management experience	28 years	40 years
Participant 1	Kate	Leah
Position:	Supervisor	Supervisor
Years of service in current school:	30+ years	8 years
Years of teaching experience:	30+ years	20+ years
Participant 2	Kuma	Joyce
Position:	K1 Teacher	K1 Teacher
Years of service in current school:	4 years	4–5 years
Years of teaching experience:	5 years	23–24 years
Participant 3	Tamara	Jessica
Position:	K2 Teacher	K2 Teacher
Years of service in current school:	5 years	8–9 years
Years of teaching experience:	7 years	8–9 years
Participant 4	Leona	Yannie
Position:	K3 Teacher	K2 Teacher
Years of service in current school:	2 years	30 years
Years of teaching experience:	8 years	20+ years
Participant 5	Jen	Mandy
Position:	Social Worker	K3 Teacher
Years of service in current school:	<1 year	4–5 years
Years of teaching experience:	10+ years	5 years
Participant 6	Mary	Mimi
Position:	OPRS SCCW	OPRS SCCW
Years of service in current school:	2 years	2 years
Years of teaching experience:	20 years	20 years
Participant 7	Bee	Emmy
Position:	Social Worker	Speech Therapist
Years of service in current school:	2 years	<1 year
Years of industry experience:	8 years	4 years

Table 3. List of data collection activities.

	November 2021	December 2021	January 2022	February 2022	March 2022
Interview 1	(Thornhill) Principal Phyllis, Kate, Mary, Jen, Kuma	(Thornhill) Tamara, Leona		(Thornhill) Bee
	(Brightwood) Principal Jade, Mimi, Leah, Mandy	(Brightwood) Joyce, Jessica, Emmy	(Brightwood) Yannie
	November 2021	December 2021	January 2022	February 2022	March 2022
Observation	(Thornhill) Principal-Staff		(Thornhill) Kuma-Class, Tamara-Class, Leona-Class, Teacher-children, Teacher-SEN Professional, Principal-Staff
	(Brightwood) Staff-children, Teacher-children	(Brightwood) Teacher-SEN Professional	(Brightwood) Leah-Class, Jessica-Class, Yannie-Class, Staff-Children, Principal-Staff, Principal in SEN meeting
Interview 2			(Thornhill) Principal Phyllis, Kuma, Tamara, Leona, Mary	(Thornhill) Kate
			(Brightwood) Principal Jade, Jessica, Mandy, Leah	(Brightwood) Mimi, Emmy
Interview 3					(Thornhill) Principal Phyllis
					(Brightwood) Principal Jade
Document Collection	Both schools	Both schools	Both schools	Both schools	Both schools

Data Analysis

Guided by the CoP framework, we conducted theoretical, reflexive thematic analysis aligned to our research questions (Braun & Clarke, 2006), an approach well suited to interview-based data (Flick, 2014). Coding was undertaken in NVivo. A seed code list was deductively derived from CoP mechanisms (mutual engagement, joint enterprise, shared repertoire) and the study context (principals’ values, market pressures, navigation of tensions), with inductive codes added as new patterns recurred. The unit of analysis was the decision/interaction episode (e.g., admissions discussions; teacher–OPRS collaboration). Decision rules were iteratively refined through memoing and codebook revisions. We maintained an audit trail (versioned code list, analytic memos) and positionality notes documenting interpretive decisions.

The CoP lens structured the organization of codes and themes around how leadership operated within and across the three dimensions: shared practice (how leaders facilitated collaborative approaches to inclusion), mutual engagement (how leaders fostered staff interactions and relationships), and joint enterprise (how leaders established and sustained shared commitments and values for inclusive education). The analysis proceeded in two stages (Yin, 2014). First, within-case analysis traced how principals’ values shaped CoP functioning in each school, addressing RQ1. Second, cross-case analysis compared enabling and constraining conditions under market pressures to explain how principals navigated tensions between market demands and inclusive values, addressing RQ2.

8. Results

The findings reveal how leadership approaches shape CoP through the subtle dynamics of daily educational life. While formal policies provide the framework for inclusion, the actual development of inclusive communities emerges through teachers’ attitudes, collaborative behaviors, and responses to professional dilemmas. These seemingly routine aspects of practice—how teachers navigate uncertainty, seek support, and work together—serve as critical indicators of how different leadership styles create conditions for professional learning and collective problem-solving. By examining these nuanced dimensions across both kindergartens, we can understand how leadership influence operates beyond formal structures to shape the culture, capacity, and trajectory of inclusive educational communities.

8.1. Teachers’ Attitudes and Dilemmas in Including Children with SEN

This subsection addresses RQ1 by showing how everyday dilemmas and collaboration reveal how CoP develop and function in practice. Teachers in both kindergartens expressed uncertainty and limitations in supporting children with SEN. These challenges were primarily shaped by teachers’ self-perception as mainstream educators, constraints on staffing and time, and the need to improvise strategies to support inclusion.

Teachers across both settings noted that their professional preparation had not equipped them to support children with SEN. Phyllis (Thornhill) remarked, ‘We are mainstream teachers, not trained to handle special needs.’ Similarly, Leah (Brightwood) commented, ‘Sometimes we feel that we are not a professional in this area since we are not a therapist or recognized professional. We are just teachers.’ These perceptions were influenced by the broader educational structure in Hong Kong. As Leah explained, ‘Because we were all trained in the mainstream track, we would think that those children with special needs will be supported by special schools or therapists.’ This sentiment underpinned a divide in identity between general and SEN educators.

Staffing constraints also posed a considerable challenge. Joyce (Brightwood) noted, ‘There are too many children. Even if we know how to support the children with SEN, we may not have the time or space to do it.’ Similar concerns emerged from Thornhill. Leona (Thornhill) reflected on the classroom impact: ‘If they can’t follow the mainstream curriculum and their behavior becomes a bit disturbing, they may disrupt the lesson. It may not help them that much.’ Teachers often found themselves balancing individual needs with the flow of scheduled lessons and curricular delivery.

Time emerged as a third major constraint. Teachers highlighted difficulties in finding time to consult with specialists. One Thornhill teacher noted, ‘They come during lessons, so we can’t really talk to them.’ Joyce (Brightwood) added, ‘Even if we want to talk to the therapists we can’t find the time.’

Despite these common barriers, Brightwood teachers demonstrated greater initiative in seeking out practical solutions. Leah (Brightwood) described a culture of peer collaboration: ‘We would usually brainstorm among ourselves how to deal with the situation. When something happens, we come together to observe and discuss.’ Joyce (Brightwood) added that she had developed a self-driven strategy for bridging support gaps: ‘I chased after the SEN professionals to consult them about what I observed of children.’ These practices appeared to be supported by a school culture that encouraged teamwork and learning.

Teachers at Thornhill also engaged in internal discussions about children’s issues, but generally expressed more concerns and limitations regarding their capacity to support inclusion. While they shared similar foundational challenges with Brightwood teachers, their reflections emphasized barriers rather than solutions. The dilemmas faced by teachers in both schools were shared, but the strategies and confidence levels for navigating them diverged significantly. These differences in approach and outlook become more apparent in the subsequent analysis of how inclusion is actually practiced within each school setting.

8.2. Inclusion Arrangements

Addressing RQ1, this subsection examines how leadership structures and routines shape the functioning of CoP around classroom support and specialist coordination, and Thornhill principal Phyllis pointed out several times that teachers’ skills were a limitation to the type and number of children with SEN that would be accepted into the school: ‘…[B]ecause the teachers may not have the professional skills to teach the children. They are kindergarten teachers. They are not special needs teachers’. She characterized her teachers as being trained for mainstream schools. The teachers similarly expressed a differentiation between their role as class teacher and the specialists’ in supporting children with SEN. Often they said that what they could do was limited, either because of their skills or the responsibility they felt toward the other children:

“For us teachers, we give some input in our regular lessons to teach [children with SEN] lesson content…We may do a little more outside of the regular lessons to help them improve a little. But then the workers would be able to help the child in a very professional way.”

(Teacher Leona, Thornhill)

“[The teachers] can’t just look after one child and ignore the rest of the 30….We didn’t study special education.”

(Supervisor Kate, Thornhill)

These excerpts reflected some boundaries and limitations in the teachers’ views of their role or skills to teacher children with SEN. This identity could affect the teachers’ perception of their contribution and responsibility. Kate, for example, who said she had never studied special education, was the one responsible for organizing all early intervention-related services for the school. As a supervisor, she was also the first support for teachers that encountered an SEN-related student matters. Since Kate did not have special education knowledge, the OPRS team and the social worker would be the SEN support for the teachers. However, both professionals were seconded to the school for only a few days each week by an external NGO. Teachers’ access to SEN support might be limited as a result of this arrangement.

There was limited evidence that Thornhill’s leadership viewed inclusion as a shared, co-constructed process. For example, Phylis decided to involve a parent as a shadow teacher, without apparently fully engaging staff in the decision. Kate functioned primarily as an intermediary between the OPRS team and the teaching staff, resulting in teachers being removed from the content and planning of SEN interventions. This was reflected in Teacher Tamara’s description of the curriculum she teaches in the classroom as being ‘completely different’ from the one that the OPRS teacher delivers. In terms of their schedules, she said that ‘[t]hey don’t match. No crossover. She [the SCCW] has her own schedule and we have ours’.

At Brightwood Kindergarten, Supervisor Leah also expressed some limitations as a teacher to teach children with SEN. Her comparison, different to the teachers in Thornhill Kindergarten, was between a teacher and SEN specialists: ‘Sometimes we feel that we are not a professional in this area since we are not a therapist or recognized professional. We are just teachers’. She explained teachers’ struggles in teaching children with SEN:

“…a lot of adjustments are needed for the child to attend in the mainstream classroom… Also, the teacher may not have enough confidence to talk to the SEN parents, like how to guide or comfort them, how to analyze their child’s conditions… [this] is a big challenge and learning curve for the teachers.”

This skill gap might be the reason Principal Jade sent teachers to specific training for supporting children with SEN. Teacher Joyce (Brightwood) shared that Jade sent her to a training when she first started teaching at Brightwood. ‘Jade signed me up for a course related to the identification of children’s SEN when I first started… She said it was critical for K1 teachers.’ Jade told her that it was critical for her to have the skills to identify children with developmental differences in the first year of children’s schooling.

Comparing the two schools, Brightwood Kindergarten had more SEN expertise available to support the teaching team. Mandy (Brightwood) said she was a special needs teacher before joining Brightwood. Leah, who had the same role as Kate at Thornhill Kindergarten, was given the job to supervise OPRS and SEN-related support because of her passion and special education background, Jade mentioned. On top of this internal expertise, Jade said she also requested additional support from the OPRS team to identify children that were at risk of having developmental delays but were not yet ready for a diagnosis. The team would give teachers advice and strategies to help them support these children when direct intervention was not available. Joyce said that she learned useful skills from this team of specialists as they would provide strategies and suggestions to the teachers. This service was not part of OPRS’s regular service but something that Jade said she negotiated. With this in place, teachers had a bigger team of specialists that they could reach out to, which would have compensated the skills gap in teachers.

8.3. School Leaders’ Personal and Educational Values

The school leaders at Brightwood and Thornhill articulated distinct educational philosophies which informed their decision-making and approaches to inclusion. These values were indicated through interviews, discussion of perspectives enrolment decisions, observations of the leaders’ interactions with staff, and expressed views on special education.

At Brightwood, Principal Jade conveyed a values-based philosophy centered on care, empathy, and child development. She described her approach as holistic: ‘Children are here to grow, to be loved, and to be understood. That’s what we’re here for. The rest follows from that.’ Her leadership style was relational and participatory. She frequently referenced the importance of working alongside staff, particularly in the context of admissions. Jade explained, ‘I would invite the teacher to the interview… after the teacher had seen the child and we feel confident about having them we would accept the child.’ This practice implied that decisions were not solely top-down but involved the judgment and confidence of frontline teachers.

Observations at Brightwood supported Jade’s relational style. She was seen engaging in informal conversations with staff and offering hands-on support when teachers were overwhelmed. Teachers addressed her comfortably and commented on her approachability. One teacher described, ‘Jade is always around. She steps in when she sees we’re in trouble. She doesn’t just tell us what to do, she helps.’ These interactions reflected her emphasis on care, modeling emotional support and respect throughout the school.

Jade’s view of special education extended beyond diagnostic labels. She advocated for responsive and unconditional support: ‘Some children are not diagnosed but we can see they need help. So we help them. Diagnosis shouldn’t be the gatekeeper for support.’ This perspective shaped Brightwood’s inclusive environment, where support was guided by observed needs rather than formal categories. Besides these, teacher Mandy shared her job interview experience: ‘Principal Jade told me openly that they would accept some special children, meaning SEN children. ‘Are you okay with this? Do you have this experience?’’. Other teachers also said that they already had a mutual understanding with Jade before starting their job that they would be teaching children with SEN. Jade explained about this arrangement:

“When hiring new staff…I told them that they need to commit…I made it clear that I must admit children with SEN. If teachers are willing [to commit], they can stay…Therefore those that signed the contract would know that apart from teaching, they also need help this group of children.”

Jade spoke about helping children with SEN as her personal mission. Her care for children with SEN stemmed from the concerns for the parents’ struggles, Jade explained: ‘…I have a soft spot for the poor parents.’ She talked about when she started admitting children with SEN to her school, years earlier: ‘…if there was a school that would accept [children with SEN], look after them or take care of them, [the parents] would be very happy already’. Her care for parents was exemplified during a particularly challenging period in the COVID-19 pandemic. The school was already experiencing economic stress due to declining enrolment from low birth rates and other demographic factors. When extended suspensions of whole-day schooling during the pandemic further reduced income as financially strained families withdrew to save on tuition fees, Jade faced a critical decision. Rather than simply accepting the enrolment losses, she implemented a one-month tuition rebate for fee-paying parents, recognizing that families were struggling with pandemic-related financial hardships. This strategic gesture of goodwill reflected her hope that parents would interpret the rebate as the school’s genuine concern for their difficulties and would reciprocate by maintaining their enrolment and ‘standing in solidarity’ with the school.

Jade’s commitment to inclusion extended beyond responding to diagnosed needs. Before OPRS was established, she proactively created a detailed behavioral checklist to systematically monitor children’s development, enabling early identification of those with delays and learning difficulties. Despite being open to enrolling children with SEN, she remained aware of the pressures such decisions placed on teachers. She recalled a conversation that shaped her approach: ‘At one stage as the school became more and more stable, I wanted to help more [children with SEN]… but then the teachers struggled. A teacher said to me, “Principal, I know you are very kind but we really can’t handle so many”.’ This feedback led her to implement a deliberate cap on SEN enrolment to prevent overwhelming her teaching team.

Here is a revised version with improved transition between educational goals and leadership style:

By contrast, Thornhill’s leadership expressed values aligned with academic achievement, curriculum rigor, and institutional order. Supervisor Kate emphasized maintaining standards: ‘You can’t lower [the curriculum] because of their ability. If you lower the standard for them it wouldn’t be at their age level.’ Principal Phyllis shared this standards-focused approach, framing it within a market-driven philosophy: ‘…children also need to stay in the race. If they don’t have their competitive edge they will have bad performance when they get into primary.’

This educational philosophy was reflected in Principal Phyllis’s managerial approach to leadership. Where Jade embodied relational values through direct engagement, Phyllis operationalized her standards-focused values through systematic delegation and oversight. She described her leadership in terms of responsibility and task delegation: ‘I want teachers to follow instructions… they must deliver results, and I will protect them if they do.’ Consistent with this directive approach, her role in SEN support was framed as administrative coordination: ‘I see my job as arranging the SEN services for the children and the specialists.’

This managerial style created considerable distance between Phyllis and her teachers. Teachers reported minimal contact with the principal beyond annual contract discussions, with one noting: ‘With the principal we really have less…not so much contact’ (Teacher Kuma). Another teacher confided, ‘We don’t dare say too much. She wants things done a certain way and we just follow.’ Phyllis herself acknowledged this dynamic, stating: ‘You need to be a bit scary… I think they need to be afraid of you.’ This formal distance contrasted sharply with the casual interactions observed between teachers and supervisors, creating hierarchical barriers that, according to Wenger et al.’s (2002) assertion about social relationships in CoPs, may have constrained the development of collaborative communities around inclusion.

Overall, Jade’s practice at Brightwood aligned more with an ethic of care and collaborative responsibility, fostering an inclusive ethos that was both value-driven and staff-sensitive. In contrast, the leadership at Thornhill prioritized curriculum consistency and institutional control, with SEN inclusion treated as a specialist service rather than an integrated component of the school’s mission.

8.4. Leadership Support for Inclusion

At Brightwood, leadership support was active and ongoing. Jade organized training opportunities and made structural adjustments to facilitate inclusion. Jade said she negotiated flexible services, ‘The team would give teachers advice and strategies to handle the behaviors of the SEN children. This was not part of OPRS’s regular service’, but something that Jade said she negotiated.

Teachers were released from class duties to attend case meetings: ‘One teacher takes over the class to release the other to attend this discussion.’ These decisions signaled that inclusive practices were integrated into teaching roles.

At Thornhill, leadership efforts were described as administrative. Kate (Thornhill) stated, ‘I see my job as arranging the SEN services for the children and the specialists.’ Communication with specialists was difficult to coordinate. As one teacher explained, ‘They come during lessons, so we can’t really talk to them.’ Others explained the difficult in coordinating their teaching, ‘We don’t really know what the IEP includes. We just try our best in class.’

The curriculum at Thornhill was described as diverse and stimulating. Leona (Thornhill) stated, ‘We have a lot of activities. The curriculum is really packed and children experience a lot—music, art, science experiments, outdoor time. It’s diverse and interesting.’ However, this was also accompanied by an emphasis on challenge and standards, without there always being a clear shared view of how to provide for individual needs. Kate (Thornhill) emphasized challenge: ‘We put a lot of effort into making sure our curriculum is age-appropriate and challenging. We don’t want to lower the bar.’ One teacher noted, ‘The school hasn’t provided much support specifically for including children with SEN. We just do our best.’ Another commented, ‘The curriculum is designed based on the children’s age group. We then try to fit the SEN children into it. There’s not much we can adjust.’

8.5. Collaboration Between Teachers and Specialists

Collaboration at Brightwood was regular and informal. Mimi (Brightwood) described her embedded role: ‘I serve as an assistant teacher in the mainstream classroom periodically in order to learn about the lesson content and children’s learning progress.’ Emmy (Brightwood), a speech therapist, noted, ‘Teachers would approach me between lessons or during lunch to discuss the children’s issues.’

One illustrative example of collaborative practice involved Emmy’s support for a child who was a recent immigrant and whose dominant language was not Cantonese. Emmy explained that while teachers initially switched to the child’s preferred language to ease communication, she recommended a different approach. ‘The teachers accepted her suggestion… [and] increased the use of Cantonese with this child to approximately 70 to 80% of the time.’ Emmy believed this would support the child’s integration and language development, even though it posed an initial challenge for teachers. This episode reflected a broader culture at Brightwood of mutual trust and responsiveness between staff and specialists.

Teachers at Brightwood frequently sought out consultation. Mandy (Brightwood) described her efforts: ‘I chased after the SEN professionals to consult them about what I observed of children.’ Peer support extended to classroom interactions as well. Yannie (Brightwood) encouraged a protective culture among children: ‘Make sure he would not be bullied.’

In contrast, collaboration at Thornhill was more constrained by structural limitations. Leona (Thornhill) described the reliance on co-teachers for emotional support: ‘When I was leading the themed lesson and the child displayed some [emotional issues] it would be very difficult for me to handle him. It may depend on my partner.’ Teachers faced practical barriers to collaborating with specialists. One noted, ‘We don’t even know what they write in their reports. It feels like they’re doing their thing, and we’re doing ours.’

Teachers at Thornhill also articulated difficulty in coordinating with the special child care worker (SCCW). Their timetables did not align, which limited opportunities for spontaneous exchange. Moreover, collaboration with the OPRS team was indirect. Teachers reported that feedback from OPRS observations was not shared directly with them but passed on through Kate. This created a disconnect between the observations made by external professionals and the daily teaching practices of the classroom staff.

While both schools engaged with external professionals, Brightwood’s embedded and reciprocal model of collaboration fostered more cohesive inclusive practices. In Thornhill, collaboration remained fragmented, shaped by institutional routines and hierarchical communication channels.

9. Discussion

9.1. Applying a CoP Lens: Executive Sponsorship and the Formation of Inclusive Communities of Practice

The contrasting approaches between settings can be understood through CoP theory, particularly executive sponsorship. Wenger et al. (2002) identify sponsorship as providing resources and legitimacy. Our findings illustrate these aspects while revealing how sponsorship shapes community identity and practice within complex power dynamics that Fuller (2007) argues are central to community formation.

At Brightwood Kindergarten, Principal Jade’s sponsorship transcended resource allocation to encompass three dimensions: legitimizing inclusion as a core value, embedding inclusive practice in organizational structures, and cultivating teacher identity as inclusive practitioners. She negotiated with OPRS to extend services beyond standard provision, created flexible scheduling for teacher participation in case conferences, and prioritized SEN training in professional development. Her hiring practices selected teachers receptive to inclusion while modeling a caring ethos through daily interactions. These practices established what Wenger (1998) terms ‘legitimacy’—affirming inclusion as central rather than peripheral. However, this approach reveals how executive power shapes community identity formation through cultural means, raising questions about balancing enabling conditions with managerial control over community direction.

In contrast, Thornhill’s approach was primarily administrative, demonstrating how inadequate sponsorship undermines CoP development despite good intentions. Principal Phyllis delegated SEN coordination to Kate, who functioned mainly as an intermediary between specialists and teachers rather than an empowered community facilitator. This exemplifies what Snyder and Wenger (2003) identify as insufficient sponsorship—lacking the ‘high-status, powerful source’ necessary to provide legitimacy and remove barriers. Kate’s role positioned inclusion as a specialist domain rather than shared responsibility, reinforcing professional identity divisions when teachers described themselves as ‘mainstream teachers, not trained to handle special needs.’ Without the principal’s direct sponsorship, Kate lacked organizational authority to challenge boundaries or create conditions for collective learning around inclusive practice.

The delegation of inclusion responsibilities without corresponding authority or resources exemplifies what Li et al. (2009) critique about CoP facilitation: success depends critically on organizational support and positional power provided to that role. Kate’s limited authority meant she could not address systemic barriers teachers identified—insufficient time for specialist consultation, competing curricular demands, or pedagogical adaptation needs. This administrative approach illustrates how leadership can inadvertently constrain CoP development by failing to provide essential sponsorship functions.

9.2. Leadership Styles and Values-Based Decision Making in Communities of Practice

The contrasting styles at Brightwood and Thornhill illuminate how power relations and values fundamentally shape CoP development—aspects sometimes not fully considered in Wenger’s framework. As discussed in the literature review, Dewey’s (1939) conceptualization of values as dynamic beliefs that mediate actions and guide decision-making in specific contexts provides a useful lens for understanding how leadership shapes CoP. In both kindergartens, principals’ values were continuously “formed and reformed through ongoing appraisal of situations” (Dewey, 1939) as they navigated the competing demands of Hong Kong’s fully privately run kindergarten sector, particularly financial pressures from tuition-dependent budgets and parental demands for academic excellence. This dynamic process of values-in-action, operating within these specific market and parental pressures, rather than static value statements, fundamentally shaped how each principal sponsored and cultivated their school’s community of practice for inclusion.

Jade’s relational approach embodied what Greenfield (1986) described as values-carriers in educational settings, consistently demonstrating and reinforcing inclusive values through daily interactions. By acknowledging teachers’ emotional responses to inclusion challenges and legitimizing their concerns, she created space for authentic engagement with inclusion dilemmas. When teachers expressed feeling overwhelmed by too many children with SEN, Jade balanced her inclusive aspirations with teacher wellbeing, maintaining community cohesion while advancing inclusion. This exemplifies Haydon’s (2007) conception of values-led guidance where ethical commitments guide resolution of competing demands.

Phyllis’s authoritarian approach established high power distance between administration and teachers. Her expectation that ‘teachers need to be afraid’ created conditions that Du et al. (2019) identify as inhibiting open communication and identity exploration. This hierarchical structure limited teachers’ agency in negotiating inclusive practices and reinforced their identity as ‘mainstream teachers’ for whom inclusion was an added burden rather than core responsibility. The resulting power dynamic constrained opportunities for mutual engagement between teachers and specialists and hindered development of coherent joint enterprise around inclusion.

Thus we can extend CoP theory by demonstrating how values mediate professional identity formation within communities. While Wenger (1998) acknowledges that identity emerges through participation, our study reveals how executive authority explicitly shapes the parameters of legitimate participation through prioritized values in decision-making. At Brightwood, teachers were positioned as active agents in inclusion decisions; at Thornhill, they were implementers of decisions made elsewhere. This distinction fundamentally altered their professional self-concept and engagement with inclusion.

Our analysis also shows how values influence boundary practices—a critical element of inclusive CoPs. Jade created what Wenger (1998) terms ‘boundary objects’, such as a behavior checklist that both teachers and specialists used to document children’s development. This tool facilitated cross-professional dialog by shifting conversations from children’s deficits to shared practices. By contrast, Thornhill’s segregated approach, where specialists withdrew children and reported to administrators rather than teachers, reinforced professional boundaries and limited opportunities for shared learning.

9.3. Reconceptualizing Inclusion Through Leadership Practice and Values

Our findings show how practice, guided by values, can either reinforce or disrupt integration-based approaches. Both kindergartens operated within the same policy framework that conceptualizes inclusion primarily as integration (placement of children with SEN in mainstream settings with specialized support), yet their dramatically different implementations demonstrate how values mediate between policy and practice.

At Thornhill, Phyllis’s approach reinforced what a medical model perspective on disability (Slee, 2011), where the ‘problem’ is located within the child who must adapt to existing structures. Her emphasis on ability and academic standards positioned children with SEN as exceptions needing specialized intervention to fit mainstream expectations. This resulted in fragmented support, with withdrawal as the primary model and minimal adaptation of classroom practices. Teachers framed their role as teaching ‘the majority’ while specialists addressed children with SEN needs.

In contrast, Jade’s approach at Brightwood moved towards a more transformative conceptualization guided by values of care, respect, and community. While still operating within integration policy parameters, her practices fostered what Ainscow and Miles (2008) describe as inclusive values—recognizing diversity as a resource rather than a problem. By embedding specialists in classrooms, encouraging collaborative problem-solving, and promoting shared responsibility culture, she created conditions for what Florian (2014) terms ‘inclusive pedagogy’—teaching approaches that respond to individual differences without marginalizing learners.

Our analysis shows how practice becomes a site for negotiating competing values and priorities in educational contexts. Jade’s decision to provide tuition rebates during financial hardship and hire additional staff to support children with challenging behaviors exemplifies what Begley (2003) describes as values-based guidance—making choices that prioritize ethical commitments over market imperatives. These decisions reflect willingness to absorb short-term costs to maintain inclusive principles, demonstrating how executive authority can create space for inclusive practice even within constrained conditions.

9.4. Navigating Market Pressures: Values-Based Leadership Dilemmas for Inclusion

The tension between market demands and inclusion was evident in both schools, reflecting broader policy and funding constraints in Hong Kong’s privatized early childhood sector (Forlin & Sin, 2017). Our findings show how responses to these tensions, guided by different value systems, profoundly shape inclusive practices and school culture.

Both principals faced similar market-driven challenges: declining enrolment due to demographic shifts, financial constraints affecting staffing decisions, and parental expectations around academic achievement. However, their responses differed dramatically, revealing contrasting value systems when confronting dilemmas—precisely the situation that Dewey (1939) and Berlin (1990) identified as revealing core values.

Phyllis at Thornhill adopted a utilitarian approach that prioritized institutional viability over inclusion. Her focus on maximizing enrolment led to practices that positioned children with SEN as potential threats to the school’s market appeal. This mentality established a transactional relationship with staff where adherence to curriculum delivery was valued above inclusive practice. Consequently, Phyllis viewed inclusion largely as regulatory compliance rather than educational commitment, framing children with SEN as diverting resources from the ‘majority’ of students. Teachers described feeling ‘stretched’ between curriculum demands and supporting children with SEN, admission policies subtly discouraged SEN enrolment, and specialist support remained disconnected from classroom practice.

In contrast, Jade at Brightwood demonstrated ‘principled pragmatism’—making strategic compromises while maintaining core inclusive values in line with Willower’s (1992) assertion that educational guidance involves rejecting certain actions to pursue more desirable, value-driven alternatives. When faced with financial pressure, she implemented tuition rebates to retain families during hardship, appealing to solidarity rather than purely economic calculations. Her approach to staffing challenges was similarly values-driven; when forced to reduce staff, she considered personal circumstances alongside professional qualifications, applying what Chen and Cheng (2013) describe as ‘care ethics’ in decisions.

Most notably, Jade’s approach to market pressures involved reframing them as opportunities for community building. Rather than viewing parental expectations as constraints, she actively engaged parents in understanding inclusive values, creating what Rao et al. (2018) describe as ‘parallel socialization’ between home and school contexts. This approach transformed potential market tensions into opportunities for extending inclusive culture beyond school boundaries.

The contrasting approaches reveal how values mediate the relationship between market pressures and inclusive practice. Where Phyllis experienced market demands and inclusion as fundamentally competing priorities, Jade’s approach demonstrated that values-driven guidance can integrate economic considerations within an inclusive framework. This aligns with Armstrong et al.’s (2018) assertion that values-based approaches ensure inclusion becomes embedded in the moral fabric of school communities rather than implemented as mere policy compliance.

Our analysis further demonstrates that these responses to market pressures have profound effects on community development. At Thornhill, the principal’s market-oriented decisions fragmented the community by creating competing priorities between curriculum delivery and inclusion. In contrast, Brightwood’s principled approach to market pressures strengthened community cohesion, as evidenced by teachers’ willingness to accept salary reductions during financial constraints while maintaining commitment to inclusive practice.

This dimension—navigating market pressures while sustaining inclusive communities through values-based decision-making—represents an underexplored aspect of CoP theory in educational contexts. While Wenger (1998) acknowledges that communities exist within institutional constraints, our findings demonstrate how values mediate between external pressures and internal community development.

9.5. Conceptualizing Values-Based Leadership for Inclusive Communities of Practice

Drawing together our findings, we conceptualize the relationship between practices and inclusive community development as operating through three interconnected dimensions that collectively shape inclusive practice in early childhood settings. Rather than viewing guidance for inclusion as merely implementing policy directives, our analysis reveals it as a complex interplay of values-mediated processes that fundamentally influence how inclusion is understood, enacted, and sustained within school communities.

The first dimension, executive sponsorship, reveals how values manifest in organizational arrangements and resource allocations. In both kindergartens, priorities were embedded in timetable structures, staffing decisions, and professional development opportunities. These structural elements were not merely administrative choices but embodiments of deeper value commitments. Jade’s decision to create flexible scheduling for case conferences legitimized inclusion as central to teachers’ work, while Phyllis’s delegation of inclusion responsibilities to specialists without corresponding authority reflected her positioning of inclusion as peripheral.

The second dimension, relational brokering, illuminates how guidance mediates the emotional and social dynamics of inclusive practice. Our findings demonstrate that inclusion is fundamentally relational work that occurs at boundaries between different professional domains and identities. Values significantly influence how these relationships develop. Jade fostered what Fenton-O’Creevy et al. (2015) termed psychological safety for identity negotiation, creating conditions where teachers could authentically engage with inclusion challenges while feeling their concerns were legitimate. In contrast, Phyllis’s authoritarian approach limited such negotiation, reinforcing rigid professional boundaries.

The third dimension, value-based meaning-making, encompasses how guidance shapes the conceptualization of inclusion through both explicit messaging and subtle symbolic actions. Our analysis indicated that principals significantly influence how inclusion is framed—as either central or peripheral to the school’s mission—and which practices are celebrated or marginalized. When Jade consistently prioritized inclusive values in decision-making, teachers developed stronger inclusive identities and practices. Conversely, when Phyllis framed inclusion primarily as compliance with external requirements, teachers maintained stronger boundaries between mainstream teaching and special education.

Together, these dimensions illustrate how values operate not as abstract principles but as dynamic forces that permeate decisions and shape organizational cultures. Our conceptualization contributes to both CoP theory and inclusive guidance literature by articulating how values influence community formation in hierarchical contexts. It responds to critiques of CoP theory’s insufficient attention to power dynamics (Fuller, 2007; Li et al., 2009) by demonstrating how positional authority shapes the parameters of legitimate participation. Simultaneously, it extends inclusive guidance theory beyond policy implementation to encompass the relational and cultural dimensions that sustain inclusive practice in early childhood settings.

10. Implications and Conclusions

Three key implications emerge from our findings for advancing inclusive practice in educational settings. First, authentic inclusive leadership requires moving beyond behavioral competencies to focus on values-practice alignment. Leaders operating within similar policy frameworks create dramatically different inclusive experiences based on their underlying value systems. Leadership development must prioritize values clarification processes and develop ‘principled pragmatism’—the ability to make strategic compromises while maintaining core inclusive values when facing tensions between competing demands. Rather than prescribing specific behaviors, preparation programs should help leaders develop coherent value systems and assess alignment between espoused values and enacted practices.

Second, effective inclusive education depends on leaders’ ability to sponsor and cultivate communities of practice rather than relying on individual characteristics alone. Our findings suggest that a three-dimensional framework—executive sponsorship, relational brokering, and value-based meaning-making—may help explain how leadership influence extends beyond formal authority to shape social and cultural dynamics within schools. This requires structural flexibility for leaders to function as community sponsors with authority to negotiate arrangements, allocate collaborative time, and make strategic decisions supporting boundary-crossing work. Professional development should focus on sponsorship capabilities: creating legitimacy for inclusive practice, facilitating value negotiation among stakeholders, and fostering ‘boundary objects’ that enable cross-professional dialog. Systems should recognize community-building achievements alongside traditional metrics, acknowledging that sustainable inclusion requires collective capacity development.

Third, transformative inclusive practice emerges through leadership that reconceptualizes diversity as a resource for community strength rather than a challenge requiring accommodation. Leadership values fundamentally mediate between policy frameworks and actual practice—a critical insight for addressing the persistent policy-implementation gap in inclusive education. Our findings demonstrate that two schools operating under identical integration policies produced dramatically different inclusive outcomes based on how leadership values shaped community formation and professional identity. This suggests that transformation cannot be mandated through policy directives alone but emerges through sustained commitment to community building and shared meaning-making around inclusive values. Moving beyond compliance thinking toward creating cultures where inclusion becomes integral to collective identity requires policy development that focuses on enabling conditions for transformative leadership rather than prescribing specific procedures. This means creating structural flexibility that allows leaders to function as community cultivators, providing resources for sustained professional collaboration, and establishing evaluation frameworks that recognize community-building achievements alongside traditional performance metrics. Without such enabling conditions, even well-designed inclusive education policies risk remaining symbolic commitments rather than lived practices.

In conclusion, this study contributes to understanding inclusive leadership by demonstrating how values mediate between policy frameworks and actual practice through community-level processes. By applying CoP theory to leadership analysis, we illuminate how positional authority shapes inclusive communities through executive sponsorship, relational brokering, and value-based meaning-making—a three-dimensional framework that may prove useful for understanding leadership influence in other hierarchical educational contexts. Our findings suggest that the tension between external pressures and inclusive values, while manifesting differently across systems, requires leadership approaches grounded in principled pragmatism and community cultivation rather than individual competencies alone. The study’s focus on values-practice alignment and sponsorship capabilities offers concrete directions for leadership development that move beyond behavioral prescriptions toward authentic community-building skills.

Future research should examine how this three-dimensional framework applies across different cultural and systemic contexts, particularly investigating the mechanisms through which values are negotiated within diverse educational communities. Additionally, longitudinal studies could explore the sustainability of values-based leadership approaches and their long-term impact on inclusive community development.

11. Limitations

This study has several limitations that should be considered when interpreting the findings. First, the small sample of two kindergartens limits generalizability, particularly given the significant differences in school size (460 vs. 152 students) and organizational complexity that may have influenced collaborative practices independent of leadership values. Second, the study’s cross-sectional design provides only a snapshot of leadership practices, preventing assessment of sustainability or long-term outcomes of different approaches. Third, selection bias is present as both schools already enrolled children with SEN, excluding perspectives from schools that might resist inclusion entirely. Finally, the study’s focus on Hong Kong’s unique fully privatized ECE system may limit transferability to other educational contexts with different structural arrangements and policy frameworks. These limitations suggest the need for larger-scale, longitudinal studies across diverse educational settings to validate the proposed theoretical framework.