“Are you satisfied?”: Learning through repeat experience

If you’re interested in the Reggio Emilia approach to early childhood education, there’s no better expert to learn from than Marie Catrett of Tigerlily Preschool in South Austin. We’re pleased once again to publish a lovely photo essay in which Marie shows and tells how she artfully helps a young learner gain skill and deeper understanding through repetition of a chosen activity.


At Tigerlily children choose how they spend their time. We’re interested in what the children are interested in and look for opportunities to think more deeply together about their work. 


Monday

M chooses to begin his day at the paint easel and is set up with red, blue, yellow, black, and white paint on a big tray. “See what you can make happen here,” is the invitation.

Soon M calls Marie over to show her how delighted he is with his paint water.

M: I made purple right there!
Then he asks: Marie, how do you make pink?
Marie: Hmm, do you want to experiment and see what you can figure out? Or are you asking for a recipe, about how to do it?
M considers.
M: Tell me how to do it.
Marie: Okay, I would try a splooch of white—
M dabs a big brushful of white.
Marie: And then, just a tiiiiny dab of red. See what you think of that.

M is pleased with the pink he makes.
Marie: Mixing on the tray is great because when you make a color you like, you can use the brush to put the color on the paper.
M wants another recipe and asks:  How do you make green?

M makes green.

That evening, M’s mom writes: “M’s favorite creature at the moment is called a ‘Jaquin’ from Disney’s Elena of Avalor show. I wanted to share since it’s a harder name/creature to figure out.”

Jaquin from Disney’s Elena of Avalor

Marie writes back: “This is beautiful! You’ll read more about [M] and color mixing in the documentation today. I’m printing Jaquin to have in the classroom in case that inspires more painting or other work for him. Thanks for connecting us with something he finds so special.


Tuesday

Marie shows M the image she’s printed of Jaquin.
Marie: Would you like to try and paint this? You’ve been making such wonderful colors at the paint easel.
Oh yes, M very much would and works for a long, focused time with yellow and blue.

When he declares his work is finished, he puts his painting on the drying rack. Marie notices the drips in what he’s made but does not point them out, taking her cue from his sense of satisfaction. She wonders if he will want to work more on this piece another time and makes a written note to think about the support she might offer the next time he paints, how she might offer help around the frustration of watery paint marks.


Wednesday

 Marie and M begin by looking back at yesterday’s work together.

Marie: I remember you working hard on this yesterday. What do you think? Would you want to add more to this? Does it feel finished?
It is M who points to the drips coming down from multiple points.
M: It’s not right.
Marie: Ah yes, I see those drippy places the paint made too.
She looks to him for clarification.
Marie: You don’t want those drip marks?
No, says M.

She’s been pondering the help she might offer him. He might want to enhance the existing image by adding to the paper or using a pair of scissors to cut the image out, leaving the drips behind. She’s careful to center him as the sayer of what he wants. He’s the engine making his work go, and she’s there to lend her knowledge and skills in support of his vision.

Marie: I think you have some options. If you want to work more on this painting, one idea could be to add more paint to paint over the drips. We could also get some scissors and cut out the parts you don’t want to keep and throw those drips away. Another option could be to start a new painting, and I can show you how to get less drips from your brush.

 M decides to start a new painting. He will make another Jaquin.

 Marie shows him how a wet brush can be very drippy. Wiping the brush off on the inside edge of the water container will help it be less wet.
Marie: And, if we add a sponge to your tray and you dab the wet brush on the sponge after washing it between colors, the brush will be drier too. Today you can give it a try and see what you think.
Marie: Now let’s look at the Jaquin picture again, so you can think about what else you might try when you paint a Jaquin today. Do you see a shape you’ll make to start?
M (touching the blue places along Jaquin’s sides): I will start with the spots.

After adding wings, he says his painting is finished and begins to carry it to the drying rack.
Oh! M realizes, I need to add the feet!
He returns to the easel and adds legs before carrying the paper back to the drying rack a second time.
Oh! M has another part he decides he must add!
M: Now I need to add a tail!

Adding a tail

M and the second Jaquin

M: I like it!


Thursday

M and Marie look at the paintings again. She is thrilled that he’s done repeat work and wants to highlight that.

Children build on what they know when they have the opportunity to repeat their experiences and try a new approach. When you discover something you like to do, there should be lots more time doing that good-feeling thing!

Marie: I know you liked the second Jaquin better, and I can see how much you like thinking about him. You could make even another Jaquin, if you want to.

M starts a third Jaquin. Now he adds even more details to his creature: the Jaquin’s wings have feathers, and the feet are given claws.

M uses the sponge technique to manage the brush marks more skillfully. This refinement has become part of his painting repertoire.

A supporting teacher asks if children are required to wash out their brushes between colors.

No, washing the brush between colors can be taught to a child who is thinking, like M is, about color combinations, and discovering that keeping the yellow as yellow is now an important part of the process. Another painter may be content to mix it all up. We have lots of paint and fresh cups that can come out when a child wants them.

The paint tray meets children exactly where they are. The children grow and bring their ever more expansive selves to the easel, again and again.

Working on his third version today, M peers closely at the original inspiration picture, taking in even more detail now.
M: The paws must be where the claws hide inside.

When the latest Jaquin is finished, M studies all three paintings. Another child, intrigued and present for the very first Jaquin painting M made, comes over to look too. We admire M’s work together.

Marie: Wow, I really see how much thinking you’re doing about your Jaquin paintings! Each time you paint, I see you learning more about how you want to make it. Now that you’ve made three Jaquin paintings, which one do you like the best?
The third one, M decides.
Marie: What makes you feel like this one is your best work?
M: Because of the claws.


Marie Catrett, Teacher-Founder-Director | Tigerlily Preschool

Project Week at Headwaters School: Turning curiosity into creation

Paul Lambert, Headwaters School mathematics guide

Like Paige Arnell’s recent guest post for the blog, this piece by Paul Lambert is about one school’s approach to creativity—in this case a step-by-step collaborative method to get special student projects underway. Paul is a mathematics guide at Headwaters School in Austin, Texas.


Every year since 2004, Headwaters School has held Project Week, a unique departure from regular classes during which students choose their topic of study, determine their learning objectives, and share their passions with our school community. Over the years, Project Week has inspired a variety of creative projects, including building a robotic wolf, writing and illustrating a children’s book, designing a biometric sensor, and producing a short documentary about Project Week itself.

Embarking on a big creative endeavor like this can feel overwhelming for our students, so for the last two years we have instituted a structured, step-by-step idea-generation process tailored for middle and early high school students. This framework allows every student to transform their curiosity into a fully realized creation.

Step 1: Brainstorming

We start by getting students' creativity flowing. Each student spends five uninterrupted minutes writing their interests, curiosities, or things they’d like to explore on sticky notes—one idea per note. To encourage a productive session, we emphasize three practices:

  • Deferring judgment: Every idea is valid at this stage of the process.

  • Encouraging wild ideas: Unconventional concepts often lead to breakthroughs.

  • Prioritizing quantity: More ideas mean more possibilities.

By the end of this stage, students have a stack of sticky notes brimming with potential.

Step 2: Mind-Mapping

Next, students work in groups of three or four to organize their sticky notes into categories. Each group decides how to categorize ideas and how each idea fits inside the category. Then, they create a mind map with “Project Week” at the center and their categories branching out as spokes. This collaborative activity helps identify connections and themes, setting the stage for focused exploration.

Headwaters students mind-mapping

Step 3: Concept Development

Once students have collected and categorized their interests, they dive into developing some full project concepts. Students are encouraged to think about how they could combine multiple interests (from the same category or across categories) into one project idea. This is a process that takes time and a great deal of careful consideration.

  1. Each student divides an 11" x 17" sheet of paper into three sections and is given 15 minutes to develop three distinct project ideas with as much detail as possible.

  2. The papers are then passed to the next member of the group. Each student has 3 minutes to add to or modify the concepts on this page, ensuring no one erases anything.

  3. Papers are passed around the group until all members have added to each paper.

This method encourages diverse perspectives while preserving the originality of each idea.

Concept development in a Headwaters classroom

Step 4: Gallery Walk

To gather broader feedback, we have a Gallery Walk. Students display their concept pages around the room or on their desks, and their peers provide constructive comments and suggestions as they stroll around the space. To foster a supportive environment, we ask students to offer two positive remarks for every critique.

By the end of this stage, each concept is enriched with fresh insights, helping students refine their ideas further.

Step 5: Finalizing the Project Idea

With these improved ideas, students choose one concept to develop into their final Project Week plan over the next week. They reflect on key questions to guide their decision:

  • What do you hope to learn?

  • What skills do you hope to develop?

  • What do you hope to create?

  • Why is this project important to you?

  • Why is this project interesting to you?

Answering these questions helps students articulate the purpose and significance of their project, preparing them to pitch their ideas the following week.


Why This Process Works

This idea-generation process was adapted from the Engineer Your World course at the University of Texas and designed with our middle and high school students in mind. It breaks the intimidating task of starting a project into manageable, engaging steps while fostering creativity, collaboration, and critical thinking. By the time students present their project pitches, they’ve already invested thought, effort, and enthusiasm into their ideas while also receiving feedback, lowering the risk when presenting.

A Headwaters sixth-grade passion project on female artists

Through brainstorming, mind mapping, developing their concepts, and peer feedback, students learn how to turn a simple curiosity into a meaningful project—and, in the process, discover the joy of exploring their passions.


Paul Lambert, Mathematics Guide | Headwaters School

The imagination is an essential tool

We’re pleased to welcome Paige Arnell to the blog as a guest writer on the role of imagination and creativity in education today. Paige is the head of school at Kirby Hall School, which serves PreK through 8th grade learners in Central Austin.


The imagination is an essential tool of the mind, a fundamental way of thinking.
—Ursula K. LeGuin

The changing landscape of childhood is much discussed in the parenting and education world. The reality of digital saturation generates much debating of how, when, and where, and pundits of varying authority weigh in on benefits and dangers. Whatever your philosophy, there is no question that we’ve entered a radically new way of growing up. 

There are many points of entry for the anxious here. No matter your pedagogy or teaching philosophy, for all educators it is a time of considerable questioning and revising. 

One thing that is becoming more and more evident is that for earlier generations so much of the “work” of learning was happening outside of the schoolhouse door.  When children were bored and left to their own devices—without devices, when children were gathering in groups together to make their own entertainment, when children were staring down the long hours of a blank afternoon, they were actively engaging in this essential work of imagining. Out of necessity, they made something out of nothing. They invented a landscape of discovery and collaboration. Obviously, some children did more than others; there were leaders and followers. This is not new information. Waxing nostalgic for childhoods of the past appears to be a perpetual exercise of adulthood; however, what we are newly considering is how much this work of recreation dramatically affected the tasks of the classroom. We now are seeing that children entering school without this practice are at a deficit, and that the tasks of deep learning are becoming more difficult for them. 

Imagination is the foundation of critical thinking. Without imagination, we have no creativity, we have no curiosity. Without imagination, one might argue, we have no thinking. 

This is nothing new, and resources abound for creative activities for children. Unfortunately, what many of these amount to are really no more than decorative activities. A creative writing prompt, a craft with a specific end product, a writing “journal” with pre-filled images and fill-in-the-blank responses. Perhaps some glue, glitter, and markers will be involved. These are nice activities, and many children enjoy them, and they make for cute wall decoration, but they rarely require real working of the mind.

These times require more from all educators. These times require us to ask ourselves more challenging questions. They require us to evaluate what it might mean to prioritize the imagination within our classrooms and schools. 

If we truly take as a foundational principle the claim that “the imagination is an essential tool of the mind,” how might we need to reconsider the primacy of imaginative activity in learning environments, primarily in early childhood education? What does it mean to be free to imagine? Does it mean that we give ourselves permission to think of new things? Does it mean we give ourselves permission to try something really new—at least for us? Does it mean that we allow ourselves to act a different role, to move our bodies in a different way, to try a different voice, to try a new style of writing? Does it mean that we allow our mind to wander so freely that anything can happen … a puddle can become the ocean and twigs and leaves can become great ships? Does it mean that we allow ourselves to write familiar words in new combinations?

Yes, we might say, and we might say yes quite easily. In these times—in these times in which the mind is distracted almost continuously and so very rarely given the quiet and time it needs to drift into the world of imagination—in these times, educators must push themselves even further. We must push ourselves beyond a simple yes and into a deep consideration of the fundamental changes that a radical commitment to honoring the work of the imagination would look like beyond glittery decoration. 

If we believe that the transformative and powerful work rests on a bedrock of imagination and creative thinking—that critical thinking and the production of ideas can only grow from this rich soil—then how do we need to change our classrooms? It seems we must give our students a few things:

  • We must give them time, specifically, unstructured time. If we fill their days with tasks and to-dos, they may never reach the space in which a stick becomes a wand or a telescope. 

  • We must show them our own willingness to play and engage with the world in new ways. If we view children’s imaginative free time as time for us to check out of their world, we are showing them that imagination is secondary.

  • We must give primacy of place to their creations and to their work—no matter how messy it may be. Imagination vitally requires process and not production. Let’s take down the professionally made posters. Let’s allow our students to create the classroom.

We’re called now to create communities in which school provides an almost sacred place for play and exploration, for the joy in creating and making messes. Parents and educators have an incredible opportunity to support each other in this work that may not produce a worksheet one can tape to the fridge, but rather supports the growth of a mind in all of its wonder and full humanness.


Paige Arnell, Head of School | Kirby Hall School

Answering the “Should I?” and “Can I?” questions

Ken Hawthorn founded and runs “a school in a makerspace”: Austin School for the Driven. For this guest post I invited Ken to share his decision-making process when students propose projects that could be dangerous or controversial. In his candid response below, he invites readers to help him think through two specific (and real) dilemmas, either by emailing him directly or by leaving a comment here on the blog. —Teri


Our school bifurcates the teaching of skills and ethics. The answer to almost any “Can I?” question at our school is “Yes, and here is how.” The answer to “Should I?” needs to be explored in parallel with the “Can I?” question. As a school founder, I take great pride in how far we are willing to take that bifurcation at Austin School for the Driven.

Recently I have been navigating a few topics where I find myself hesitating to live up to giving students all the knowledge so they have the power to take a responsible approach to decision making in our school. With so many unique schools keeping Austin weird, I hope sharing my own challenges and discomforts around some student questions may be helpful or thought-provoking to others. 


Student Question #1: Can we spray-paint under the bridge and make a mural? 

I have been navigating this question for a year now. Spray-painting in the hands of children is nothing new at Austin School for the Driven. We have used spray paint on our RC car bodies and water-dipping projects. It makes me smile every time our school takes a field trip to Home Depot and we get the stink eye from security as our kids fill a small cart with spray paint cans. What is new is the student request to spray-paint in a public place.

RC car bodies spray-painted by students at Austin School for the Driven

There is existing spray paint on the walls of the tunnel they are targeting. If I said yes to this question, I would be a teacher leading students on an urban beautification project. On the other hand, saying yes to this question could be seen as an adult leading minors to commit a crime. For me this is a difficult question.

The students are absolutely serious about the quality of the proposed mural. To date, the students have scanned the tunnel with Lidar and created a 3D digital model that we can deploy at full-size scale as augmented reality inside of our classroom. We have found a spray paint simulator and are learning about the variety of nozzles that can be used to get very narrow or wide paint patterns.

What is the right decision here? What side should the “Should I?” land on this question?

Lidar scan used by Driven students to create a 3D model of a local tunnel showing preexisting graffiti

Student Question #2: How does vaping work?

This is a “Can I?” question. I am totally fine having students do research and then discussing the “Should I?” part. What is less comfortable for me is providing knowledge involved with the “Can I?” question. It is sad that this question came up on one of our hikes along Shoal Creek Trail because there were so many of the disposable vaping devices littered along the trail.

No, we are not bringing a vaping device to campus, but building a functional model to vaporize propylene glycol or glycerol could be really educational. A vaping device actually is a reasonably technical machine. You have the battery, the heating coil, the baffle mesh, and a computer to regulate voltage, measure resistance, and target a certain wattage. There is a charging circuit and another circuit that acts as a fail-safe if the temperature goes up or there is too much battery discharge. There are also thousands of other machines we could build in the lab. Would building a model in some way still glamorize vaping?


I ask this question, and the question about spray-painting the bridge, because I don’t yet have an answer; I do not know what the right answer is. Austin School for the Driven exists as an experiment to see what happens when we hold standards and at the same time maximize student agency within a framework of “Yes,” “No,” and “Maybe” answers to questions of “Can I” and “Should I,” which then define the learning boundaries of the school.


Kenneth Hawthorn
| Austin School for the Driven

What is critical thinking?


Guest contributor Stephanie Simoes is the founder of
Critikid.com, a website dedicated to teaching critical thinking to kids and teens through interactive courses, worksheets, and lesson plans.


“Critical thinking” is a trendy term these days, especially in the education world. Alternative schools in Austin commonly advertise that they encourage kids to think critically. Conversations about critical thinking are often accompanied by some version of the Margaret Mead quote, “Children must be taught how to think, not what to think.” But such discussions often neglect a crucial question: “What does it mean to teach children how to think?” Critical thinking is an abstract term. Are we all on the same page when talking about it?

As the founder of a critical thinking site for kids, this question is important to my work. We all get what “thinking” is, so the real question is—what makes it “critical”? I like to use a simple definition: critical thinking is careful thinking. It requires slowing down and questioning our assumptions.


Fast and Slow Thinking

Our brains are hardwired to respond to stimuli quickly, a crucial advantage in emergencies. When faced with a potential threat, immediate reaction is essential—there’s no time for deliberation. While this quick thinking might make us mistakenly perceive a harmless situation as dangerous, it’s a safer bet to err on the side of caution in high-stakes moments. It’s a matter of survival: better to assume danger where there is none than to overlook a real threat.

While fast thinking[1] is a valuable skill, it is prone to errors.

Here’s an example. Try to answer this question in less than 5 seconds:

If 1 widget machine can produce a total of 1 widget in 1 minute, how many minutes would it take 100 widget machines to produce 100 widgets?

After you’ve given your quick, intuitive answer, take as much time as you need to think about it.

Many people’s initial, intuitive response is 100 minutes. However, with more careful thought, we see that the correct answer is 1 minute. (The production rate per machine is 1 widget per minute. The rate doesn’t change with the number of machines.)

The key takeaway of this puzzle is that careful, deliberate thinking is often more accurate than quick thinking.

Applying slow, careful thinking to every daily decision would be impractical. Imagine how long you would spend at the grocery store if you conducted a deep analysis of every single choice! In many cases, our intuitive, fast thinking serves us well. However, problems can arise when we cling to the conclusions drawn by our fast thinking—especially in situations where accuracy matters.

In the widget machine problem, it’s relatively straightforward to recognize and correct our intuitive response with a bit of careful thought. However, letting go of our intuitive conclusions is not always this easy.


Humility and Critical Thinking

We might cling to our intuitive answers, even when faced with clear evidence or reasoning that challenges them, for several reasons.

First, it can be hard to change our minds when the intuitive answer feels very obvious or the correct answer is very counterintuitive. A famous example is the Monty Hall Problem. The correct answer to this puzzle is so counterintuitive that when Marilyn Vos Savant published the solution in Parade Magazine in 1990, the magazine received around 10,000 letters (many from highly educated people) saying she was incorrect!

It can also be challenging to let go of wrong answers when we have invested in them, such as by spending time and energy defending them. Sometimes, it’s simply a matter of not wanting to admit we were wrong.

Critical thinking requires more than just slow, deliberate thought. It also demands an open mind, humility, and an awareness of our minds’ flaws and limitations.


Building Blocks of Critical Thinking

Paired with slow, deliberate thought and humility, the following tools help us to be better critical thinkers so we can communicate more clearly—even when communicating with ourselves:

  1. An understanding of cognitive biases: These are systematic errors in our thinking that can lead us astray. There are many online resources that explore these biases in detail.

  2. An understanding of logical fallacies: These are flawed arguments. Logical fallacies can be used deliberately to “win” a debate, but they’re often made accidentally. Recognizing logical fallacies helps us to keep conversations on track. You can learn about some common logical fallacies in my Logical Fallacy Handbook or teach your kids about them with my online course, Fallacy Detectors.

  3. Science literacy: We were taught many facts in science class, but many of us never really learned what science is and how it works. This is the foundation of science literacy. For an introduction to this, I recommend biology professor Melanie Trecek-King’s outstanding article “Science: what it is, how it works, and why it matters.” Another important part of science literacy is knowing How to Spot Pseudoscience.

  4. Data literacy: Data literacy is the ability to properly interpret data to draw meaningful conclusions from it (and to know when drawing certain conclusions is premature). It means understanding how data is collected, identifying potential biases in data sets, and understanding statistics. Data literacy helps us make sense of the vast amount of information we encounter daily. You can introduce your teens to some common errors in data collection and analysis in Critikid’s course A Statistical Odyssey—a course that adults have enjoyed and learned from, too!


Preparing Kids for the Misinformation Age

A quick scroll through social media reveals a minefield of bad arguments and misinformation. You have probably come across logical fallacies like these:

“You either support A or B.” (False dilemma)
“Buy our product—it’s all natural!” (Appeal to nature)

The lack of science literacy among influential voices is also concerning. I can’t count how many times I have seen or heard the phrase,

“Evolution is just a theory.”

This phrase confounds the scientific and colloquial definitions of theory. If unintentional, it demonstrates a lack of science literacy; if intentional, this is a logical fallacy known as “equivocation,” in which a word is used in an ambiguous way to confuse or mislead the listener.

The need for data literacy is also apparent. You may have heard arguments like:

“Illness X has increased since Y was introduced, so Y must be the cause.” (Mistaking correlation for causation)
“There are fewer cases of food poisoning among people who drink raw milk than those who drink pasteurized milk.” (Base rate neglect)

We have an incredible amount of data at our fingertips, but without data literacy, we don’t have the proper tools to make sense of it all.


Critical thinking shouldn’t be taught as an afterthought; it needs dedicated, explicit instruction. Children face a battlefield of misinformation and faulty logic every time they go online. Critical thinking is their armor. Let’s help them forge it.


Stephanie Simoes | Critikid.com



[1] Nobel-prize-winning psychologist Daniel Kahneman calls fast thinking “system 1 thinking” in his book Thinking, Fast and Slow. I highly recommend this book to anyone who finds the content of this blog post interesting.

The adult in the room

Green field with pink wildflowers, courtesy of The Hedge School Cooperative in Austin, Texas


Dr. Erin Flynn, today’s guest contributor, founded and directs
The Hedge School Cooperative, a small, inclusive high school in Dripping Springs. This piece is adapted from the school’s blog and addresses a simple topic that is often overlooked in discussions about education: the importance of kindness.


I was recently talking with a friend [read: ranting]. Earlier in the week, I had been called "too kind/nice/sensitive" for the billionth time. My friend asked me why it bothered me so much, and this is what I parceled out: I grew up with the label, and it followed me into teaching and later as a principal. It is never said as a compliment; it is often said as an admonishment. It is seen as weak and ineffectual, as though a kind/sensitive person cannot possibly do a good job.

What is even more troubling about this, to me, is the idea that a person being kind to students, especially middle school / high school aged students, prevents them from being effective teachers or leaders. Why wouldn't someone want to be kind and sensitive when working in a position of responsibility for students?!

Let me be clear, I am not talking about being a "pal" to students. I set and keep boundaries. And I do this while prioritizing how the minor in this situation is feeling. I am the adult in the room. What does this mean? I believe it looks like the following:

  • I set the tone for the classroom, whether consciously or not, so I need to be conscious of what I am feeling and spreading.

  • I acknowledge when I have been wrong and/or hurtful.

  • I apologize.

  • I try not to take things personally.

  • When I fail at this, I do the following: take a break if needed; take the student aside to have a private conversation; acknowledge the harm caused by the comment/action (not the person); ask if they are doing okay and if I can help in any way; and always listen, listen, listen.

  • I do not hold grudges.

These are not revolutionary tactics; I learned them from other adults in my life. These adults were compassionate, kind, and kept boundaries with me. Being the adult in the room is possible both to practice and to do consistently. (Even when you're not in a room.)

Dr. Erin Flynn | The Hedge School Cooperative