Getting to Belonging Part Four
Putting Design into Practice
Rie Gilsdorf and Christy Spencer
Rie Algeo Gilsdorf, MS, MA, has broad experience as a principal, arts administrator, instructional coach, teacher of science and dance and parent in many settings, including the Reggio-inspired programs of Portland’s Opal School and The Blake School in Minneapolis. Rie is a past Board Co-Chair and Civic Engagement Committee Chair of the Reggio-Inspired Network of Minnesota and current member of its Resource Development Committee. She now provides racial equity seminars, coaching and consulting through Embody Equity (www.EmbodyEquity.com).

Christy Spencer, MA is inspired by children’s curiosities and perspectives, and roots her practices in relationships, deep listening, designing dynamic learning environments, observation and pedagogical documentation. Christy has worked in various Reggio-inspired contexts, including The Blake School, Boulder Journey School and the Minnesota Children’s Museum. She has been a RINM Board and committee member. Current professional interests encompass exploring the intersection of design thinking and the Educational Project of Reggio Emilia, mindfulness practices, anti-racist theory, neuroscience around empathy and humanitarian projects focusing on children’s rights.

Over the past year in Getting to Belonging we have had our heads deep in theory, explicating the relationship between a design process and Reggio-inspired pedagogy as they pertain to developing a broader consciousness of race and difference. We’ve broken down each into component parts and attempted to weave them together. This entails oscillating back and forth between theory and practice. It is time to venture into practice.

Documenting Two Prototypes
In this piece we reflect on documentation of two prototypes and the insights they reveal. Similar to the Reggio-inspired practice of offering a provocation and then reflecting on it, we chose current RINM formats, Let’s Talk and Doc Lab, two virtual events. They were opportunities to explore the future by doing, gathering feedback and reflecting on what worked, what didn’t and what might come next. The first, Let’s Talk in January 2024, offered an open-ended conversation framed as an opportunity to explore considerations and anxieties involved in talking with young children about race. February’s Doc Lab focused on exploring race in early childhood by studying documentation of children’s work.

Structurally, Let’s Talk emphasizes dialogue with an invitation for participants to bring their own questions. This event, following previous Network Gatherings, asked, “What do you worry about in exploring race and culture with young children?” Thus, educators’ anxieties became the springboard for this discussion. The conversation had an organic flow and was lightly facilitated with the only ground rules being to listen with curiosity and speak your truth.

By contrast, Doc Lab focused on transcriptions of student conversations and utilized a formal protocol to structure the conversation. The protocol included specific prompts, each with an allotted time, from observation and description, to questioning, to speculation about children’s strategies for constructing understandings. The structure positioned participants as careful, nonjudgmental observers and colleagues. It also required more active facilitation as well as in-depth note taking to enable later reflection.

The Role of Intentionality
There was a palpable difference between the two prototypes, despite significant overlap in participants. As we later reflected on documentation of the events, we became more aware of the nuances within the structures. As our awareness grew, it became apparent that we had unintentionally created a discrepancy in tone between the two.

The Doc Lab felt collaborative and supportive. The protocol positioned the presenting teacher to first listen, saving clarifications for later. This listening practice involved letting go of the role of teacher as expert. The predictability inherent in the structure invited vulnerability, of the presenting teacher and of the observers who must comment on children’s work with minimal context.

Let’s Talk began with prompts about anxiety, unconsciously positioning people to show up either in certainty or defensiveness. As a result, a subtle tone of rigidity arose. Unlike Doc Lab, this format had neither traces of children’s encounters nor a structured protocol to provide a supportive container that would have allowed participants to embrace ambiguity. The conversation spiraled away from possibility as it amplified limiting concepts we fully believe, but that are figments of the imagination. “We can’t. . . because. . . .”

The language we captured from each conversation is also telling. In Doc Lab, we noted words such as “tricky,” “nuanced,” “context,” “interconnectedness,” “dynamic,” “flexible.” These words acknowledged the complexity of the children’s expression and the teacher’s nimble responses. On the other hand, Let’s Talk produced words such as “ominous,” “fear,” “pressure,” “confronting,” “avoidance,” “roadblock.” These words indicated a mindset that is not conducive to curiosity, creativity or compassion. Doc Lab’s language of potentialities was strengthened by its protocol’s progression from observation through speculation.

Making Space for the "Why" and "How"
In Let’s Talk, participants shared books, websites and scope and sequence documents, but we now realize this exchange didn’t encourage deeper critical discourse. Rather than “How might we use this?” the conversation leaned toward “I did this,” or even “Do it this way,” adding to a tone of certainty. While these resources were useful, a “why and how” conversation might have deepened the conversation.

One metaphor that came up during Let’s Talk was Malaguzzi’s idea that “the eye jumps over the wall,¹” which suggests going beyond boundaries to see with fresh eyes. This generative idea moved the conversation to the notion that we as adults need to go over the wall; children are always ready to do this. This is just the kind of organic flow that we have seen arise in Let’s Talk. However, it was quickly squelched as conversation reverted to how adults can get past the anxieties of going over the wall. Soon the voice of certainty crept back in, attempting to grasp onto resources as a way of coping with these anxieties.

Doc Lab participants also shared resources. The difference lay in the foregrounding of the “why” and “how” – the children’s responses and the exchange between teacher, children and resources. Broad themes such as democracy, fairness/justice, interconnectedness and gratitude were woven together in a process of revisiting and recombining resources and experiences. The resources, from a classroom scale to an outdoor pond, served as tangible scaffolding for the big ideas and these ideas provided a thematic framework for the resources. This beautifully illustrates the iterative and generative process of negotiated curriculum.

Intentionality and consciousness – the “why” and “how” – come into play in selecting resources and using them as provocations. Both are crucial. Even the most excellent book or resource only creates part of the conditions for rich understandings to be made. And, with “why” and “how” in mind, resources are literally everywhere. For example, in the exchange presented at Doc Lab, the presenting teacher wove a common classroom scale into themes of race and belonging. In addition to providing a concrete metaphor for these abstract ideas, it offered a reference point for children to enter the conversation.

Suggested Iterations: Let's Talk & Doc Lab
What comes next? What could we tweak and try again? Reflecting on Let’s Talk, we want to make clear that this format leads to valuable emergent conversations if presented with intention. In the case of conversations about race, it could include starting from “How do we?” vs. “I’m worried about.” The latter leads to a deficit mindset, expressed as “we can’t.” Starting from the “why” and “how” promotes an asset mindset that reveals more possibilities.

Historically, Let's Talk and Doc Lab have not been paired. If we were to prototype a similar pairing we might reverse the order and use Let's Talk to continue the conversation. This would allow all participants to share inspiration they took from the Doc Lab, how they translated it into their environment, how children responded and how it affected their practice. Our intention would be to create space for new curiosities to arise and dive deeper into the discourse in a spirit of collaboration and support.

Both the Doc Lab and our reflections on it have been fruitful in that they promote a spirit of prototyping and experimentation that inspires action. It strikes us that this should not be a “one and done,” but rather an ongoing practice that invites multiple people to share documentation on the topic of equity across human difference. We could also experiment with different modalities: video, audio, transcripts, photos, artifacts. We also learned that we should allow a full two hours for conversation.

Conclusion:
In this series, “Getting to Belonging,” we proposed a Reggio-inspired design process for adults, to animate substantive change and actualize early childhood communities that are dialogic and democratic. The series explored how these ideas might support complex and nuanced conversations about human difference, especially racial difference, that engender a sense of belonging. Doc Lab and Let’s Talk are practices that support this work. These adult conversations must precede dialogue with children, and the arc of this learning comes to fruition in ongoing work alongside children.

Getting to Belonging Part One
Getting to Belonging Part Two
Getting to Belonging Part Three

Citation:

1. Spaggiari, S. (2004). “The path toward knowledge: The social, political and cultural context of the Reggio municipal infant-toddler center and preschool experience.” Innovations in Early Education: The International Reggio Exchange.

The Life of a Dead Tree Trunk in the Classroom
Tom Bedard
Originally Posted in Sand and Water Tables, March, 22, 2021
Now retired, Tom Bedard, M.Ed. has worked in early childhood education since 1986. He has taught thousands of children representing diverse backgrounds and abilities, from infants to preschoolers. His particular interest has been to promote and analyze how children explore the area devoted to sensory play, to better understand their curiosity and competence in all areas of development. He has presented locally, nationally and internationally. Tom was the first early childhood teacher to be a finalist in the Minnesota Teacher of the Year program.

In a way, this post is a sequel to my previous post about the possibilities for play in a provocation I called the Swamp. The environment helped determine the possibilities. And by environment, I meant the process of setting up the provocation by me; I meant the children and the curiosity and imagination they brought to their investigations; and I meant the materials themselves, which begged to be explored.

This post is an experiment to see how the possibilities of play unfolded when just one of the materials offered to the children got placed in other parts of the room. The object and its potential I would like to examine is a piece of tree trunk from a tree I cut down in my yard.

As part of the swamp, the tree trunk was a loose part that could be used as a place where some of the plastic animals could find a home. (If you look closely in the picture above, there is a plastic grasshopper on the tree trunk.)

And because it was a loose part, it did not have to stay in the table. In the picture below, the child lifted the tree trunk out of the table and was about to drop it on the floor.

In a way, he was deconstructing the swamp by piling the pieces of wood on the floor. But at the same time, he was constructing his own collection of wood by using the floor as an open platform to pile.

After the swamp, I moved the tree trunk to the housekeeping area to see how the children would use it in their play and explorations. I placed it on the shelf by the window and by some living plants.

In the picture above, the child noticed that the tree trunk had a hole in it. She found a stick from the bowl of sticks on the bottom shelf and used it to explore the hole. By the way, the hole was an entrance to an old bird nest so it was worth exploring.

One child took the tree trunk off the shelf to put it on the floor where he proceeded to dislodge a piece that had rotted and become weak.

I noticed that the child found the work gloves in the house area to add a little authenticity to his deconstruction operation.

I subsequently moved the tree trunk to the writing table as a provocation with other Fall elements like gourds and corn. The children found many more ways to explore and examine this natural element.

For example, the child pictured below examined the bottom of the tree trunk. That way she was better able to see that the hole was bigger on the inside where the nest had been.

For another example, the child below found a different way to examine the hole in the tree trunk. He used one of the ears of the Fall corn to "measure" the size of the hole.

A good question is: Did any of the children draw the tree trunk? I do not know and since these pictures were taken more than five years ago, I do not even remember. However, one of the more stunning pictures I took was a picture of a child showing his mother the picture of the girl examining the bottom of the stump.

This was the same child who had used the Fall corn to explore the hole in the top of the tree trunk. In other words, the documentation from the week before triggered a memory, a memory that he could share with his mother about his own interaction with the tree trunk.

This was actually an enjoyable reflection for me. I remembered that I had brought a tree trunk into the room to add to the swamp, and I remembered that I had moved it around the room. However, I had not realized how this dried up piece of wood spawned so much engagement by the children in multiple areas of the room, whether that engagement was with the piece itself or in concert with other objects. The quintessential point was that this was a narrative about just one object in a sea of objects in my early childhood classroom. As it moved, so did the narrative. And it was not lost on me that this dried up piece of wood was basically waste wood not even good enough for firewood. Leave it to the children to bring it back to life and make multiple meanings out of it.

The Influence of Collaboration on Understanding 
Inez Hohn
Inez Hohn student-taught at the Fishback Center for Early Childhood Education, the lab school at South Dakota State University. She now teaches Kindergarten at Freeman Academy in Freeman, South Dakota. Inez enjoys finding new ways to engage her students each day as she learns from them. She recently received the Early Childhood Student of the Year, awarded by South Dakota AEYC.

Introduction
How do children learn, not only from experience, but also from each other? How do children co-construct meaning? As a student teacher, these questions informed my work as I facilitated an inquiry of towns and maps with a small group of four and five-year-old children that spanned two months. The four children possessed varying dispositions, skills and background knowledge, which they brought to the investigation. 

Map Making
In our initial mapmaking, the children illustrated scenes and buildings that were important to them. Their maps reveal how they viewed the world and what they thought of when imagining a map. They included places we had talked about; for example, Margaret focused on her house, a playground, roads and stop lights. Oliver included houses, farms and playgrounds. Some had roads while others did not. This presented the opportunity to look into how roads are represented on maps.

  

While there are roads in Margaret’s map, she focused more on scenic aspects such as houses and a playground.

Oliver’s map is a specific scene which includes grass, trees and farm buildings. 

An Exchange of Ideas, Resources and Actions
We continued with an exchange of ideas. To elevate the idea of roads on maps, I brought in a variety of road maps and posed ideas and questions. The children responded and crafted interpretations. In turn, they located towns and used their fingers to trace roads, pretending to drive from place to place. They associated roads with traveling and used past experiences to make sense of characteristics of roads, such as how they connect places and that the curvatures matter for smooth driving. They brought their experience to the discussion and in doing so talked about places they had traveled, referencing the maps in front of us. The conversation focused on their hometown, Brookings. They branched out to talk about places they had traveled, such as Sioux Falls, a major nearby city.

Looking at road maps

When we revisited map-making, the children focused on the roads. The children took what they noticed from examining the published map and transformed their maps to include more prominent roads. I noticed a deeper understanding in their discussion of road function and representation on maps. From this point, all the children added roads to their maps. One map focused on having straight roads and the child resisted using circular and curvy roads. Their reasoning was to make sure people traveling through the town didn’t get sick from all the loops.  

“The roads are straight, no circles for roads.” -Oliver

“It’s a straight-line road and then you go left and right. When people are walking, they have stop signs.” -Cora

They focused on including spacing between roads and logical paths to ensure that travel from place to place was possible. They took these ideas directly from the experience of their fingers driving on the printed road maps. Travel became the purpose of roads.

 Margaret made sure to make all the roads connected for smooth travel.

  

 Oliver focused on having straight roads with corners so there were no loops.

As we walked around campus, I pointed out the use of sidewalks to travel. The children made the connection that sidewalks were similar to roads. Henry labeled the sidewalks as “walking roads,” which opened up another meaning-making conversation. The group noticed the sidewalks as college students walked past them. They contrasted walking and driving in their analogies.  

We had some experience with 3-D maps when we used Google maps to get a street view of places in our town. We changed our perspective by switching between street view and aerial view, which allowed us to get a better idea of locations. To navigate our walk, we referenced a 2-D map of the SDSU campus in which the buildings were drawn to appear three-dimensional. They explored their surroundings making connections between where they were and their location on the map. They again followed the pathways with their fingers. This time, they traced our walking journey. The children noticed the aerial view and realized the connection between sidewalks in aerial view and the same sidewalks in street view. The children’s conversations deepened over time. Their understanding of maps evolved, highlighting their growing understanding of the concepts of travel, how travel flows, the purpose of roads and sidewalks and finally how they are represented.

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The children traveled along the sidewalks as if driving on roads.

Meaning-Making
Through these interactions and exchanges, children’s perspectives shifted. Still working independently, they created a third map, increasingly aware of each other's efforts. Their experience of finger tracing the road maps, their campus walk and what they learned from each other was evident in their third map, which included more elaborate buildings and roads with more connections. They focused on the pathways that connected places and highlighted movement between places. Then, the children worked to solve the problem of representing buildings that fit between connected roads.

Margaret drew the roads first, focusing on leaving room in between them for buildings.

 

Oliver created an intersection which left room for buildings.

In these drawings, I saw the give and take between their experiences and their growth in knowledge. When I revisited and reflected on this inquiry process, I found that each child influenced the others through common themes, such as landmarks, representing roads, and including space for buildings and homes. 

The children’s ideas about maps developed as they participated in activities, drawing and conversations. They included the purpose, flow and visual representations that are apparent in maps and formed their own versions. Through each step, they made sense of their experiences as they constructed together what maps meant to them. Although they developed individual interpretations, their experience deepened as they collaborated.

Collaboration
This inquiry continued for another three weeks. As the project progressed, I called them to work together on parts of the town. 

The children collaboratively drew a new map that they later built into a three-dimensional town.

Reflection on My Learning
I reflected on our inquiry project and noticed a process had unfolded. I brought information in the form of activities, materials and experiences and the children made meaning. At the same time, the children brought their ideas to the conversation and formed meaning from what their peers shared. I then crafted my plans to fit what I saw and heard from the group. This shifted the path of our inquiry and sharpened my attention to what the children said and did, ultimately allowing me to better support their engagement and enrich their learning. 

The children learned to collaborate through this inquiry. I, too, collaborated, creating an idea map (below) with my mentor that outlined aspects of our journey. The graphic provided a visual representation of our process, promoting further reflection.

I found a deeper understanding of the interactions that occurred between the children and I, including the energy bursts that occurred among us. When I pay close attention, I can see the growth of children's thinking more clearly and respond to it.

Fundamentals | Documentation

The Reggio Approach is a complex system of thought and practice with many dynamic entry points that interact; it is not a method, program or curriculum. (LINK to Key Principles)

Documentation is central to the Reggio Approach, a fundamental tool. 

An essential component of a Reggio-inspired program is to make visible the learning of both children and adults. This happens through documentation, in which the process of learning is recorded through note-taking, dialogue, photographs, video and other means of transcribing the interactions of children with the environment, with adults and with each other. Through this process the learning can be studied, reflected upon and re-entered; ideas can be brought in to add variety or complexity to renew the experience.

More than mere “evidence” of completed work, documentation in the Reggio tradition becomes part of a reflective loop: it makes initial ideas visible, creates access points for new participants and new dialogue and paves the way for fresh ideas–which will, in turn, be documented and incorporated into the growing body of thought. In Reggio-inspired practice, documentation helps children grow their ideas; it also opens up an avenue of participation for parents, elevates the professional discourse among teachers, and serves as a source for advocacy in the world of public policy.

Reggio-Inspired Network of Minnesota - Seeing Children

Documentation is not limited to making visible what already exists: it also makes things exist precisely because it makes them visible and therefore possible.

Rinaldi, C. 2006 In Dialogue with Reggio

We tend to believe that observation and documentation can be objective, but the Reggio tradition acknowledges that we are always, whether or not we are aware of it, selecting what to pay attention to and what to ignore. Documentation is never neutral. That’s why it’s important to share it in a tentative and ongoing process and invite other perspectives.

Fundamentals: Formazione
In order to create both a pathway for people new to Reggio-inspired work and deepen our shared thinking, we offer a regular column, Fundamentals, to introduce and explore central principles of the Reggio Approach. The Reggio Approach is a complex system of thought and practice with many dynamic entry points that interact; it is not a method, program or curriculum. (Key Principles)

In the United States, we typically refer to professional development as processes that occur outside of the everyday and external to the individual, such as instruction or ‘training’ via classes, certificate and degree programs and in-service workshops or conference sessions.

While teachers in Reggio Emilia do engage in formal activities similar to what we call professional development, they value a deeper and more daily avenue of professional learning, which they refer to as formazione.

Formazione…from Malaguzzi’s perspective, is an integral part of the everyday pedagogical work, an attitude of mind, a way of thinking and being, a part of life, an inseparable element of what it means to be an educator. Valuing uncertainty and wonder and with the concept of evolution in mind, Malaguzzi would have hoped for and welcomed surprising and unexpected consequences, the creation of thought, understandings and knowledge.

-Peter Moss, Role of the Pedagogista, p. 10

Formazione is used to refer to processes of continuous collegial dialogue, engaging multiple perspectives, research based on observation, interpretation and documentation, resulting in knowledge-building and professional learning. Therefore, formazione is from within, with others and socially co-constructed. Inquiry into the not-yet-known-possible involves continuous exchange. We never ‘arrive.’

Getting to Belonging, Part 3: Navigating Participation and Evolving Perspectives
Rie Gilsdorf and Christy Spencer
Rie Algeo Gilsdorf, MS, MA, has broad experience as a principal, arts administrator, instructional coach, teacher of science and dance and parent in many settings, including the Reggio-inspired programs of Portland’s Opal School and The Blake School in Minneapolis. Rie is a past Board Co-Chair and Civic Engagement Committee Chair of the Reggio-Inspired Network of Minnesota and current member of its Resource Development Committee. She now provides racial equity seminars, coaching and consulting through Embody Equity (www.EmbodyEquity.com).

Christy Spencer, MA is inspired by children’s curiosities and perspectives, and roots her practices in relationships, deep listening, designing dynamic learning environments, observation and pedagogical documentation. Christy has worked in various Reggio-inspired contexts, including The Blake School, Boulder Journey School and the Minnesota Children’s Museum. She has been a RINM Board and committee member. Current professional interests include mindfulness practices, anti-racist theory, neuroscience around empathy and children’s rights.

Previously in Getting to Belonging, we’ve looked at embracing ambiguity (Part 1), dispelling ideas of developmental appropriateness, and taking on new mindsets and practices (Part 2) in order to welcome negotiated curriculum, discourse, and a view of the teacher as researcher. With these in place several other Reggio-inspired principles surface, each facilitating the next: (1) participation and pedagogy of listening and (2) group construction and multiple perspectives. These, too, are tools of designing for belonging. At the end of this article, we will highlight how these interact with each other to cultivate belonging.

Participation & Pedagogy of Listening
Equal Participation is a value statement that tends to float in the aspirational realm. Negotiated curriculum can actualize equitable participation in the here and now by facilitating and valuing participation of all stakeholders. Kelsey Blackwell (2018) argues for creating intentional ‘architectures of conversation’ to disrupt unequal participation perpetuated by the dominant discourse. She views this discourse as “the water in which we all swim. No one is immune. Those values dictate who speaks, how loud, when, the words we use, what we don’t say, what is ignored, who is validated and who is not.” By making everyone’s participation visible, a negotiated curriculum opens the possibility of a new architecture of communication.

Following the design steps Open Mind, Open Heart and Open Will, the next move is Co-creating. When co-creating we explore the future by doing, remaining open to feedback and reflecting on what’s working and not. This learn-by-doing process is also called prototyping. Reggio-inspired teaching includes a similar responsiveness between provocations and dialogue, as well as observation and documentation of the unfolding process. Engaging in the documentation process provides adults with feedback and opportunities for reflection that are necessary for co-creating. “The most ‘design malpractice’ happens when people are acting but not reflecting,” (Montoya, 2022). Reflection is an active choice that keeps us out of habitual thought and action.

The co-creating design step requires letting go of the role of the expert with a voice of certainty. In designing for belonging, it can be tempting to try to actualize idealistic value statements in one grand gesture. In reality, change is iterative and generative. Prototyping the smallest practical ideas will produce the clearest insights to inform next steps. We never ‘arrive,’ instead we inhabit a state of ‘perpetual beta.’ Certainty is a facade distracting us from acknowledging the complexity that is a constant in every context, including race and culture.

Children operate in perpetual beta. We expect conversations and encounters to be revisited as they acquire more information or experience additional interactions. Children will grapple with misconceptions and partial knowledge as they construct  a coherent understanding. Our role is to hold space for children to return again and again to scaffold their learning. As adults we also must extend ourselves the same courtesy. When caught off guard by children’s expressions about race we may falter in the way we respond; however, we also have the opportunity to revisit and ‘repair’ those conversations with children (Haulcy, 2023). Like the learning process itself, the race conversation is iterative and generative.

In addition to their ideas, children’s vocabulary is in perpetual beta. They don’t yet have an adult vocabulary and we may misinterpret what they are trying to express. A pedagogy of listening grants a reflective pause to consider the child’s context before responding. In practice, we must choose to listen to the words and beyond the words to the emotional content and patterns of lived experience. This allows for reflective discourse, rather than projecting adult meanings onto children's words.

Group Construction & Multiple Perspectives
As adults model this deep, reflective discourse, children learn to construct meaning as a group. In a climate of group construction, children feel agency and enhance their capacity to listen and weigh ideas. The standard power dynamic of adult-as-expert is disrupted and children are more inclined to express their thinking. An atmosphere of ‘perpetual beta’ supports divergent thinking. By contrast, environments where a singular ‘correct’ way of thinking is implied engender cynicism in children. Why express ideas when there’s only one that’s right? Current societal shifts, including shifts in public discourse about race, bring us to a place of uncertainty. In Design for Belonging, Susie Wise highlights the example of group construction by reflecting back to constituents that “their inquiries mattered and they were indeed participating in a civic process,” (2022).

Group construction of meaning requires us to hold and value multiple perspectives. This applies to both children and adults and is embedded in the definition of the Reggio collective design process, progettazione. When participants have equitable but distinct roles, a rich array of results are apt to arise, honoring their individuality within the collective. As in the folktale of the blind people and the elephant, no individual perspective is complete, yet all provide important insights.

Because human systems are dynamic, we now employ the final design step of  Co-evolving. In this step, constituents create flexible infrastructure that adapts to an ever-evolving context. This requires letting go of the voice of certainty (Scharmer, 2018a). The educators of Reggio Emilia refer to their schools as an ‘an evolving educational project.’ Their infrastructure is a set of principles that are not prescriptive, but rather promote nimbleness. As a result, the educational project of Reggio has adapted in response to societal shifts as they arise, beginning at its inception in the aftermath of World War II. Leaning on the flexible infrastructure of the Reggio principles positions us to co-evolve.

Belonging via Broader Consciousness
In addition to providing a flexible infrastructure, the Reggio-inspired principles that we have outlined are cumulative. While there is benefit to practicing even a single principle, the impact is multiplied by their synergy.

Further, just as understanding each of these Reggio principles helps us navigate the complexity of the whole, understanding multiple perspectives helps us navigate the complexity of human systems and leads us to develop a broader racial consciousness. A narrow consciousness may persist in both children and adults unless we become more aware of others. Broader consciousness disrupts habitual patterns of attention, increasing the capacity to notice patterns of interaction, contribution and flow. Design thinking provides a road map to belonging: when we listen deeply to all constituents, we can be confident enough to take the small next steps to prototype inclusivity, knowing that they are not the end point. We must continue to listen and adapt, both individually and programatically. In essence, to cultivate communities of belonging for adults and children “means creating a learning environment in which the learner can step into his or her highest future potential in the context of hands-on societal challenges,” (Scharmer, 2018b).

Drawing from the Reggio and design thinking concepts we’ve discussed in Parts 1, 2 and 3, in Part 4 we will continue with the idea of ‘getting to belonging’ by focusing on practice. What might ‘getting to belonging’ look or sound like in adult conversations when talking with young children about race.

Resources

Blackwell, Kelsey. (2018). “Why people of color need spaces without white people.” The Arrow Journal. https://arrow-journal.org/why-people-of-color-need-spaces-without-white-people/

Haulcy, Diane. (2023). “White Parents Navigating Anti-Racist Parenting in Minneapolis.” Early Risers Podcast. https://www.mpr.org/episodes/2023/03/22/white-parents-navigating-antiracist-parenting-in-minneapolis Accessed 8/17/23.

Montoya, Louie, quoted in Andrea Small and Kelly Schmutte. (2022). Navigating Ambiguity: Creating Opportunity in a World of Unknowns. Stanford d.school guide. Ten Speed Press.

Scharmer, Otto. (2018a). The Essentials of Theory U: Core Principles and Applications. BK, Berrett-Koehler Publishers, Inc., a BK Business Book.

Scharmer, Otto. (2018b). “Education is the kindling of a flame: How to reinvent the 21st-century university.” Huff Post, https://www.huffpost.com/entry/education-is-the-kindling-of-a-flame-how-to-reinvent_b_5a4ffec5e4b0ee59d41c0a9f Accessed 8/17/23

Wise, Susie. (2022). Design for Belonging: How to Build Inclusion and Collaboration in Your Communities. Stanford d.school guide. Ten Speed Press.

Movement, Music and Representation
Mark Sorvari
Professional musician, performer, teacher, and event curator, Mark Sorvari is the Director and Lead Instructor of Playing With Music, which began in 2015 as a vehicle to foster, teach and share inspiring and uplifting music and creative movement experiences for young children and their caregivers. Mark has worked in early childhood music education since 2010 and has experience working with children following the Reggio Approach and is certified in Orff-Schulwerk (music education pedagogy) and Music Together.

Seven years ago, I discovered the teaching duo Segni Mossi, meaning “Leave A Trace” in Italian, while researching music and creative movement in a Reggio-inspired setting. Their interdisciplinary approach prioritizes experimentation as a working method, emphasizing the creative process over the final outcome. The Reggio-Inspired Network of Minnesota Education Scholarship enabled me to attend the Segni Mossi Pink & Red training workshops in October 2023. These workshops explored the interaction between dance and graphic signs, using paper, oil pastels and the human body.

The Segni Mossi workshops not only provided illumination but also inspired answers to ongoing questions within a Reggio-inspired context. How can educators facilitate cross-domain connections and interweave different competencies within the Hundred Languages? What learning environments stimulate critical thinking and aesthetic feeling simultaneously? How can we advance Malaguzzi’s vision for ateliers to embrace innovation beyond the original visual art template, specifically incorporating music/sound, movement/dance, drama, and poetry? Is the atelier a technique rather than a physical space? If teachers are to become co-creators and co-learners alongside students, is expertise in the Hundred Languages essential or does the lack of expertise open up possibilities brimming with critical thought, creativity, collaboration and communication?

Segni Mossi’s playful approach challenges participants to engage in art within a social setting, stimulating critical thinking and aesthetic feelings simultaneously. The workshops break barriers between language, body, and line, creating a dynamic, exciting environment. Participants explore expressive qualities of body movements and signs, interweaving competencies and viewpoints. Segni Mossi’s goal is to “liberate the sign from representative subordination,” (https://www.segnimossi.net/en/about.html).

In an initial proposal, we spoke our names, added corresponding body movements and transferred that movement to leave a trace with oil pastels on a large sheet of paper affixed to a wall. The transformation from name to movement to visual representation was a very powerful experience as it broke barriers between language, body and line. Additionally, we represented a chosen sign with our bodies in space, allowing it to become three-dimensional, interweaving and making connections between the different languages. Carefully curated music accompanied each experience, creating a beautiful dance and interplay between the human body, mark-making tools, paper, space and our connections to others. The whole process was playful and exciting, and it felt like a performance or a story unfolding right before my eyes.

Fellow educators, many currently working in Reggio-inspired environments, unanimously agreed that such proposals freed them from specific expectations, empowering uninhibited play with materials; no particular expertise or skill sets were required to participate and enjoy these proposals. The environment, materials, and provocations were the basic ingredients. The excitement of watching each participant’s (or group of participants’) creative and cognitive interpretations unravel was added spice! The immediacy and freedom to explore was liberating as it challenged us to move out of our comfort zones.

In another captivating proposal, we embodied the concept of expansion by moving our bodies as though we were seeds sprouting from the soil. This dynamic movement was translated onto a large piece of white paper (approximately 10’ x 10’) on the floor. Beginning from the center with an oil pastel, each of us expanded our body outward, leaving a distinctive trace of movement on the paper. Observing each person’s unique expansion and the remnants of their movements expressed through oil pastel lines, led to fascinating reflections.

During the subsequent discussion, we delved into the role of the observer within the context of the Reggio-inspired approach. It became evident that not only teachers could play this role, but observation also emerged as a crucial aspect of the experience for the children themselves. The act of observation contributed to the visual aesthetics of the proposal, creating an intricate interplay between the lines left on the paper, the body movements, and ultimately, between each individual in the experience.

As these lines organically grew across the paper, so did the connections and relationships between the participants. We forged deep bonds with each other through our interactions with expressive languages in a shared space. In this environment that encouraged freedom of expression without judgment, we found ourselves not only learning about each other but also discovering more about ourselves.

These encounters pushed me to break free from habit, emphasizing that this space was meant for testing theories, experimenting, taking risks and gaining a deeper understanding of the world. The challenges compelled me to be more adaptable and think on my feet in order to foster ever-evolving experiences for children.

Upon returning from the workshop, I began offering Segni Mossi-inspired proposals to children. It became evident that this approach inspired new ways to move their bodies and to have a multi-layered sensorial experience. As they danced, the squiggles and lines left on paper overlapped, creating a beautiful fusion. Children embraced the opportunity to dance their own lines, interpret each other’s circle or scribble, mirroring the collaborative dance of lines on the paper. 

Intriguingly, they started imagining pictures formed by the intermingled lines, giving rise to a series of captivating stories. At one early childhood center with high vaulted ceilings, where children had shown curiosity about echoes, I introduced proposals integrating body movement and mark-making as a tool to explore concepts related to sounds, vibrations and echoes, providing an enriching experience for the young learners that deepened their understanding and gave rise to new questions.

After participating in the Segni Mossi workshops, I've gained a fresh perspective on utilizing the Hundred Languages, free from hierarchical constraints or divisions. This approach allows for a fascinating dance to unfold among various expressive languages. Excited about the insights gained, I am eagerly anticipating another series of Segni Mossi workshops scheduled for February 2024 in New York City. I look forward to exploring additional avenues for blending and interweaving the Hundred Languages in my work.

Reflections about Reggio Emilia
Melanie Lowin
Melanie Lowin, MEd., M.A. is a Pre-Kindergarten teacher in Blake School’s Early Learning Center, which opened in the fall of 2023. Along with a number of colleagues, she participated in the spring 2023 Study Tour in Reggio Emilia. Melanie also participated in the Early Childhood Education Pedagogy graduate certificate program through the University of Colorado-Denver, in partnership with Boulder Journey School. 

My first professional exposure to the Reggio approach was in 2021, during Covid, when I virtually attended the Reggio Children International Study Group. Then, in the spring of 2023, I was fortunate to be part of a group of colleagues who traveled to Italy to experience Reggio firsthand and participate in a five-day Study Tour. One thing stood out above the beauty, food and architecture: Reggio Emilia is its own unique place with different geography, government, resources, constituents and community. I know that I cannot take exactly what Reggio Emilia has created and plop it into my school. Still, I wondered “How do I do this at my school?”

We’re five months into the school year, and I’m energized as I work to incorporate the Reggio Emilia approach in my work with children, parents and colleagues. I’m increasingly seeing children as capable co-constructors of their learning, part of a supportive community. Instead of requiring teacher-directed activities, I’m creating more open-ended invitations and observing to see what direction the children move.

For example, I set out Legos, not expecting that the children would create an entire Lego City. They worked cooperatively with their own ideas. I listened to their ideas and convened a group where we made a plan and map. This involved using the big blocks as a platform, Lego base plates as the ‘ground’ and then adding small blocks and wooden train tracks to expand the city. I intended to introduce maps at some point during the year, but I incorporated the Lego city experience into map-making more organically, with the work the children had begun themselves.

 

I am using recycled materials, as at Remida (the center for reusable materials in Reggio Emilia), to spark resourcefulness and creativity. My experiences in Reggio inspired me to consider materials as ‘languages’ where they use elements such as light, paper, sound, mark making and clay. I increasingly see the classroom as the third teacher, making sure creative supplies are at child-level and are organized in ways to engage children. While blocks and Legos are always available, other resources are changed or reorganized to continue to spark new learning.

For example, the children chose different materials for their Lego City. They created and attached paper signs providing directions. I offered small desk lamps and the children turned them into different suns and explored light and shadows across their city. Through these explorations, they created signs and played with science, social studies and 2D and 3D math concepts.

 

I am making learning visible as I observe, document and display children’s processes (not just the end product). I take photographs, videos and audio recordings of the children’s collaborative work. I share documentation, not only with the families, but it also is on the walls where the children can revisit their work.

I’ll continue to challenge my own learning through collaborations with fellow educators–locally, nationally and internationally. As a school community, we are gathering to share our experiences and ideas, hoping to create collaborative connections and cross-disciplinary learning for all of our children.

Just as Reggio Emilia is building an approach to education one step at a time, so too, can I build my educational practice, one step at a time.

Reflections on First Encounters: “If the Eye Jumps Over the Wall”
Patti Loftus
Patti Loftus B.A., M.A.,  is a retired early childhood teacher whose career included twenty-eight years in the Pre-K program at Blake School (Minnesota.) She’s been interested in the Reggio approach since 1992 and has served as a RINM Board member. She’s currently a RINM Communications Committee member.

For decades, academics, artists, architects and civic leaders from around the world have participated in study tours convened by Reggio Children. How and why does the Reggio educational project resonate with such a diverse group and what inspires folks to move beyond initial interest (even infatuation) toward a deeper understanding?

Initial Ideas
This article is a reflection on first encounters with Reggio ideas from varied perspectives. I reached out to a group of educators from Blake School who recently participated in a five-day study tour in Reggio Emilia. In addition, I contacted others who have encountered Reggio ideas, some of whom did so decades ago. A few in this second group have never participated in a study tour while others have done so multiple times.

Some have made (or hope to make) substantial changes in their work, even upending it. As one teacher described with enthusiasm, “I’m rethinking everything!” It’s as if they glimpsed another world, one that is familiar and at the same time completely different.

“If the Eye Jumps Over the Wall” was the original title of the first Hundred Languages exhibit. Sergio Spaggiari, former Director of the Istituzione Scuole e Nidi d' Infanzia Municipality of Reggio Emilia, said, “It is important to acquire the skill of going over walls, going beyond boundaries, seeing limits and passing through them…To be able to go over the wall means you can topple cultural paradigms that seem fixed. It means you can turn things on their head. It means you can start with fresh eyes.”

The Reggio educational philosophy is both appealing and challenging. In part, it is appealing because the city itself offers a beautiful backdrop to uniquely designed and organized schools. Teachers, pedagogistas and atelieristas work with children to offer unusual materials and surprising experiences to prompt unexpected subjects for study. One recent visitor noticed that “in the midst of a garden, the children focused on three invasive weeds growing out of the sidewalk,” which led to extended project work.

Reggio is also challenging, because the educational project is multi-faceted and inseparably woven into the city’s historical, civic and cultural context. While the Reggiani share their stories through publications and conferences, they resist marketing their approach as a curriculum. They do not promote their approach as the only way to work with children, instead they invite visitors to enter into a dialogue about values, theory and practice, a conversation that is now over 70 years old.

The existence of this newsletter and the twenty-six-year-old Reggio-Inspired Network of Minnesota (RINM) is evidence of the impact of Reggio in and around Minnesota. For years, numerous Minnesotans, and others who identify with the Network, have been encountering Reggio ideas primarily through local experiences, not study tours.

Responses and Perspectives
The first exposure to Reggio ideas for the people I contacted for this article included:

hearing about Reggio from a colleague;
happening upon a magazine article;
wandering into a session at a national conference;
visiting the classroom of a Reggio-inspired teacher;
hearing Loris Malaguzzi’s classic poem “The Hundred Languages;”
visiting one of Reggio Children’s traveling exhibits;
reading a book from Reggio;
being the parent of a child in a Reggio-inspired program;
participating in a parenting class with a Reggio-inspired teacher;
viewing documentation of children’s work;
seeing photographs of the environments or of children working with materials.

There were many on-ramps.

When I asked folks about their first responses to Reggio ideas, they easily recalled the occasion–“amazed,” “gobsmacked,” “overwhelmed,” “struck,” “wonder and delight.” It’s not surprising that first reactions are to what’s visible–the layout of the schools, the aesthetic environments, the unique materials and experiences presented to the children and the documented work of the children that makes their thinking visible. Some people noticed aspects that lie below the surface, for example, how key principles intertwine to connect and support thinking processes. “The level of deep and serious thinking that I encountered from the Italian educators about how to create schools that truly respect and support young children was like nothing I had ever experienced before.”

Those who participated in a study tour looked for and posed questions that emerged from their frames of reference: a musician looked for evidence of music in the schools; a tech specialist noticed their technology equipment and the ways in which it was being used; a teacher observed the multicultural nature of the population and wondered how the schools respond in culturally responsive ways; an art specialist responded with some relief that they do some skill instruction in Reggio, for example in teaching children how to attach pieces of clay. (This refuted the notion she’d had that everything in Reggio involved unhindered exploration of materials.) Another participant reflected, “I was most struck by its beginnings as a female-led anti-fascist movement and its commitment to equity and democratic advocacy.”

Each of us approach Reggio ideas with personal and particular curiosities. We come from varied contexts and, whether we’re aware of it or not, have frames of reference that affect what we notice and remember. Even when we acknowledge those perspectives, this awareness can be fleeting. If priorities in our teaching practice involve, for instance, behavior management or assessment, we may not realize the ways these preoccupations influence what we notice about Reggio and, without intention, what we may miss. Again, in Malaguzzi’s words: “To be able to go over the wall means you can topple cultural paradigms that seem fixed. It means you can turn things on their head. It means you can start with fresh eyes.”

Peter Moss writes about the larger educational concerns that are typical of leaders in the U.S. and U.K.: Does it work? Is it evidence-based? How much will it cost? How can we take it to scale? Moss notes that Reggio educators ask: Where does this lead? How can we build on this? What does this experience tell us about the children and their thinking? How does this connect with our stated values? What other perspectives might be helpful?

What Followed
Following their initial experiences with Reggio, folks consistently expressed their desire to talk with colleagues, to experiment with new materials and approaches, re-think their practice and examine the values behind that practice. They talked about incorporating Reggio ideas in their relationships with parents and the larger community.

As they reflected on their encounters with Reggio, they asked:

What are our (school’s) values for education?
How does the environment reflect those values?
What are the fundamental ideas and how can I use these ideas?
What can we do, what can we change?
How can we slow down to do richer work?
What is the central nature of the role of the atelierista?
What languages are we allowing children to communicate in?
What is the role of documentation for my school? What does it look like every day and who is doing it? What’s the objective in documentation – for the teachers? parents? broader audience?

In contrast to the notion that one must change their internal beliefs before their teaching practice will change, the opposite is also possible. Making a small change in teaching and then reflecting on it may lead to a significant shift in thinking. 

The Network as a support
All of the participants who shared their first encounters with Reggio acknowledged that the Reggio schools are only in Reggio Emilia. They realized that creating beautiful spaces and open-ended materials for children to explore can be a starting point for becoming a Reggio-inspired teacher or program. Experiences like conferences, study tours and workshops built around Reggio ideas end, and then participants return to their contexts. What happens when the eye jumps over the wall but the body remains on the other side?

The Reggio-Inspired Network of Minnesota doesn’t provide answers but is a flexible community composed of a wide variety of people with an interest in exploring and deepening their understandings of the Reggio approach. The Network provides resources and convenes opportunities for listening and talking with others about ideas, possibilities and practice. Deep insights are possible through reflection, particularly when in dialogue with others.

The Network, a 501 c3 for which there is no membership fee, is a hub of resources available to all. Throughout the year, the Network sponsors in-person and virtual events, most of which are free:

The Network makes available books published by Reggio Children and other books about the Reggio approach through the Debra Fish Library, a collection of the Saint Paul Public Library. Books can be checked out through any metro library. www.mnlinkgateway.org/

In addition, there are two annual educational scholarships available. More information can be found here.

First encounters with Reggio ideas are, for many, the catalyst to learn more about the approach and find ways to incorporate those ideas in their work with children and parents. Because the educational project in Reggio is complex and so different from U.S. educational paradigms, it requires ongoing awareness and effort to experiment, reflect, dialogue and experiment again. There are plenty of fellow travelers available as companions on that journey. The Reggio-Inspired Network of Minnesota is one place to find them.

Acknowledgements

Thank you to Tom Bedard, Joe Druskin, Joanne Esser, Jen Kalika, Kim Lane, Melanie Lowin, Taylor Rose, Lisa Small, Jeanne Vergeront, Mary Watson and others for responding to my questions and to Lani Shapiro for thinking with me.

Resources

Cameron, C. and Moss, P. (Eds.), (2020). Transforming Early Childhood in England: Towards a Democratic Education. UCL Press https://doi.org/10.14324/111.9781787357167

Edwards, C., Gandini, L., Forman, G. (Eds.), (2012). The Hundred Languages of Children: The Reggio Emilia Experiences in Transformation (3rd ed., p. 35). Praeger.

Giamminuti, S., Cagliari, P., Giudici, C., Strozzi, P. (Eds.), (2024). The Role of the Pedagogista in Reggio Emilia:Voices and Ideas for a Dialectic Educational Experience. Routledge.

Landi, L. and Pintus, A. (2022). “A Critical Approach to the Reggio Emilia Approach.” Open Access. https://iris.unimore.it/retrieve/1861203e-e021-42ee-b42a-d20195c206c9/216-713-1-PB.pdf

Spaggiari, S. (2004). “The path toward knowledge: The social, political and cultural context of the Reggio municipal infant-toddler center and preschool experience.” Innovations in Early Education: The International Reggio Exchange. https://www.reggioalliance.org/downloads/path:spaggiari.pdf

“We are well aware of what is meant by ‘scientific research’ and of the debate surrounding the so-called ‘hard’ and ‘soft’ sciences. But in Reggio we feel that the concept of research, or perhaps better, a new concept of research, more contemporary and alive, can emerge if we legitimate the use of this term to describe the cognitive tension that is created whenever authentic learning and knowledge-building processes take place. ‘Research’ used to describe the individual and common paths leading in the direction of new universes of possibility.”

-Carlina Rinaldi

We have learned from Reggio Emilia that the notion of research is a more approachable process than typically comes to mind when the word is used. Research is both a noun and a verb that often involves a compelling question or point of curiosity followed by studying closely. It involves gathering data, digging deeply, hypothesizing, testing and observing followed by reflection and dialogue to develop new understandings. Research, even when begun by a single individual, is rarely a solo endeavor, but involves multiple points of view in dialogue with each other.

Reggio-inspired teachers view research as an essential part of their work.

“…Topics emerge, teachers document and wonder and provoke, children respond, and so on in an exquisite, often non-linear dance with layer upon layer of meaning. It cannot be planned, but it can be planned for through the teacher’s disposition to observe, document, provoke, and think, through the preparation of the environment to invite the interactions and encounters through which children’s ideas emerge, and through the development of a culture of conversation and construction of theory.”

-Pam Oken-Wright
https://www.mnreggio.org/page-18152

In a Reggio-inspired context, research takes place as children and teachers alike make sense of daily life. Teachers ask the children, What do you notice? How does that feel? What does this remind you of? Teachers ask themselves, Why? What happened? What does it mean? What else could happen if…? Drawing on their deep listening made visible through documentation, they invite each other into dialogue, What do you see? How do you understand…? 

This research is, at the same time, a way of thinking, an attitude and a strategy. The children’s and teachers’ research sustain each other. This co-constructed (re-)search, characterized by curiosity, exchange, uncertainty and unpredictability, creates space for innovation through the pleasure of thinking together.

“Research is a habit of mind, an attitude that can be developed or neglected. It is a response to curiosity and doubt. It constructs new knowledge, makes for critical thinking and is part of citizenship and democracy. Like everything else about Reggio, research is not a solitary activity, but a process of relationships and dialogue.”

-Rinaldi, C. and Moss, P.