by Amy Warzybok

Amy has her M.A. in Early Childhood Education from Sonoma State University and her B.S. in Business from the University of Minnesota. Amy taught preschool using a Reggio Emilia approach, managed family, preschool and camp programs in nature and environmental centers and was an adjunct professor in child development. She is currently Director of the Dodge Nature Preschool in West Saint Paul.

In spring 2024, I first laid eyes on Draft One of the revised Minnesota Family and Center Based Child Care Licensing Regulations. I was overwhelmed and concerned about the impact these new regulations could have on child care programs and families across our state. I had a basic understanding of Minnesota’s government but didn’t know how to effectively advocate for my and other program’s needs or share the impact these new regulations could have on our state’s childcare programs.

I spent the 2024-2025 school year participating in the Child Care Advocates Ready to Emerge (C.A.R.E.) Fellowship program to deepen my understanding of the Minnesota Legislature and learn how to better advocate for children, families and providers. Draft Two of the Licensing Regulations was released this year. I partnered with provider groups, including Minnesota Early Childhood Outdoors, and this group, the Reggio-Inspired Network of Minnesota, to provide feedback. I also met with my local legislator, Mary Frances Clardy, to share concerns and hopes for these updates. 

This month, I hosted a site visit for Diane Hualcy and Randy Keys from the Minnesota Department of Children, Youth, and Families. They have been visiting child care sites around the state to learn more about the needs of programs and the impacts licensing regulations can have on providers. They shared that Draft Three is currently being written based on the feedback programs have shared during the listening sessions, surveys and more.  

If you have concerns about the new licensing regulations or other items being discussed in legislation, reach out to your local legislators to inform them about the issue and the impact it will have on your community. Learn who represents you and how to get in touch with them.

For more information on advocacy work for child care and families in Minnesota, here are some great resources:

• Think Small
• MCCA
• Child Care Aware of Minnesota
• MNAEYC 
• Kids Count on Us

by Marty Watson

Marty Watson, an educator since 1977, started exploring the Reggio Emilia Approach in 1993 after completing a Masters degree in Education at Bank Street College, NYC. She had the opportunity to be part of a Bank Street Study Group that visited the Reggio Emilia Schools. After her return from Italy, she used her leadership positions to successfully implement the approach in early childhood and school-age programs. Marty retired from her position as director at Dodge Nature Preschool in 2019 and continues to be active on the RINM Board.      

I was fortunate that my schedule permitted me to attend the first Reggio-Inspired Network of Minnesota (RINM) Gathering of the new 25-26 school year. The September event, “Authentic and Intentional Work with Children and Loose Parts,” was a weeknight gathering at the RINM Loose Parts Lab located at the Lenox Community Center in St. Louis Park, MN.  

At least one person commented that they were surprised to see me there since I am entering my sixth year of retirement from Dodge Nature Preschool. Having worked in the field of education since 1977, learning is part of my DNA. As a director for most of my career, one of my most important responsibilities was to ensure the highest quality of professional development possible for my staff. Well-educated staff leads to well-educated, well-cared for and well-rounded, happy children. 

Sandy Burwell, Heidi Wolf and Ross Thompson facilitated the event. They all have a great deal of education and experience in Early Childhood and are part of the RINM committee that plans Monthly Gatherings. They are the dreamers and workers who made the Loose Parts Lab a reality. They warmly welcomed me to the gathering. I soon joined a table with familiar and unfamiliar faces. There, I encountered different types of wire. There was also an article about the use of wire with children, a document that would be easy to use with staff in any school or center. 

Relationships are central in Reggio schools, woven throughout the Reggio Emilia educational project. The Gathering started with introductions. There were people that I had known for many years, new people from programs that were very familiar to me and new people and new programs that I became familiar with that evening. Names and contexts matter, and networking is an important aspect of each gathering. Once we shared our names, it seemed like we had permission to share ideas. 

Our evening then turned to the wire at each table, all of which was recycled from various sources. This was an evening to experience. We soon realized that we cannot really understand children’s work with a material until we, as teachers, have investigated its possibilities. There was a feeling of exploration and wonder, no sense of right or wrong. There may be some techniques to learn before we can be successful or even creative. Some of these ideas dawned on me after the experience. I must admit that part of me, during the event, was wondering what I was learning.

The facilitators paused us several times – to offer additional loose parts and to pose questions such as “How are you making decisions about the wire you are choosing?" “What new things are you learning about the wire as you use it?” They also invited us to look at each others’ work. There were many opportunities to learn and grow. I wondered, is that what the words “authentic” and “intentional” from the workshop title were referring to? The evening included time to study additional documentation and further network with each other. 

So what did I learn? 

• I learned that these RINM Gatherings continue to be oxygen for me. They continue to invigorate me, much like a spa experience or a workout at the gym invigorates others. These gatherings inspire me to continue my excitement for learning and working in the field of early childhood education, even in retirement.

• I learned through the environment as the third teacher. Prepared workspaces, inviting materials and documentation along with refreshments supported my curiosity.

• I was reminded how powerful it is to have time to work and create. I really do not know the possibilities of a material unless I actually manipulate it and experience it with my own hands and mind. 

• I met new people and learned about their work with children and their interest in the Reggio Emilia Approach.

• I learned from others as I observed their work, reflected on that work, and considered comments and questions. Reflection is part of the learning process. Questions about our own ideas and others’ ideas are important to the process of understanding. 

• I learned that the evening was not just about wire. It was about all the things that are connected to learning!

During one of my first visits to the Reggio Emilia schools in Italy, I quickly learned that they prioritize professional development. They gather weekly to study documentation about children in their care. The teacher is thought of as a researcher. They spend most of the month of July on professional development.  

As a director, there were many ways that I planned for professional development with my staff. I do hope that those reading this will take seriously many professional development opportunities. Make it a priority to learn what is offered by the Reggio-Inspired Network of Minnesota and make a plan.

I look forward to seeing you at my next Reggio workout!!

by Jennifer Kalika

Jennifer Kalika has been a string instrument teacher for over 20 years. She has taught all ages, but her love lies in teaching primary school students. She currently teaches at an independent PreK-12 school in the Twin Cities. Jennifer participated in a study tour at the Loris Malaguzzi Center in Reggio Emilia, Italy and  holds a graduate certificate in Early Childhood Education Pedagogy from CU Denver. An avid performing musician as well, Jennifer plays both modern and baroque viola and is a member of the Lyra Baroque Orchestra in St. Paul, Minnesota.

At first glance, particularly from a beginner’s perspective, the Reggio Emilia approach seems wholly disconnected from traditional, skills-based teaching and learning. My practice, as a string instrument teacher (violin, viola, cello), was very teacher-led, highly structured and prioritized mastering specific skills delivered within a 30-minute, once-a week lesson schedule. This approach to teaching focuses on repetition and incorporates strong adult influence, be it from the teacher or the parent. The idea of an emergent curriculum can feel intimidating for those used to structured instruction. These teaching techniques place little emphasis on student exploration or interest. 

I’ve been part of the arts faculty in a PreK-12 independent school for 13 years. Over the last few years, the Lower School underwent physical and organizational changes to broaden and deepen its attention to Reggio Emilia philosophy with a new Early Learning Center (ELC) for PreK-1st grade.  

I discovered a connection between the Reggio Emilia approach and general music teaching for young students. I was already familiar with the Orff-Schulwerk Approach to music education and identified correlations with its child-led vocal and instrumental exploration and creation through improvisation and composition. There are many articles that describe clear connections between Reggio-inspired pedagogy and the Orff-Schulwerk approach. However, I struggled to find much written about string teaching with a Reggio mindset. As I pursued information about this philosophy, I actively explored how I might incorporate the Reggio Emilia principles into my context. What could make learning a string instrument interesting to a PreK student so they feel choice, inspiration and interest? What if the teacher took the time – perhaps a whole year – to explore aspects of string instruments that 4 and 5-year-olds find interesting? 

As changes began at my school, I was determined to learn more about the Reggio approach. I started with the PreK teachers at my school who had created Reggio Emilia-inspired environments in their classrooms. They directed me to Reggio Children, the website for the Loris Malaguzzi International Center in Reggio Emilia, Italy where I participated in a summer online workshop. 

The founders of the Reggio Emilia approach were inspired by great educational thinkers like Piaget and Dewey whose philosophy of education for young children places the child at the center of their learning process. They emphasized the history of the educational system in Italy prior to World War II and how it impacted the education system, especially for preschool children. The unique cultural and political nature of this region continues to influence the development of this educational approach.

I also looked within the United States for further educational opportunities in the Reggio Emilia approach and discovered the Boulder Journey School, an established preschool in Boulder, CO, which incorporates the Reggio Emilia approach and has an excellent teacher education and professional development program in collaboration with the University of Colorado, Denver.

I enrolled in the teacher training at Boulder Journey School and practiced documenting student activity using note-taking and photos and videos for that entire semester. In addition to my coursework, I began to document in my classroom. 

Still, I struggled to find a connection between my string teaching context and the Reggio Emilia approach. What I needed was to connect my experiences teaching young string students with the child-centered emergent curriculum that is at the core of the Reggio Emilia approach. I shared ideas and had multiple conversations with various colleagues about how we could incorporate the Reggio Emilia thinking into our teaching. 

• How can I incorporate the Reggio Emilia philosophy into string teaching at the early learning level for students in PreK, Kindergarten and 1st grade?

• How can I structure string teaching so that children’s learning is visible and they feel empowered as creators of their own knowledge? 

• How can I connect children with community in a way that is meaningful to them? 

• How can I devise a way for learning string instruments to be more equitable and accessible to all ELC students?

I considered the children. They pursue knowledge, and my role is to support their curiosity and trust in their abilities as collaborators. I needed to be more comfortable with 4 and 5 year-olds handling string instruments and other materials. This was a challenging prospect considering my school had just purchased twelve small string instruments that were my responsibility! I also needed to relax my pacing to provide students with ample time to explore and create. My focus switched from providing students with information to asking questions, to find out what they already know and what they want to know.

Drawing on the children’s interests and thinking about my questions and conversations with colleagues, I outlined a curriculum as a “string journey.” 

PreK: Exploration – What is a string instrument?

Kindergarten: First experiences – short units on violin, viola and cello

First Grade: Introduction to formal instruction on chosen instrument – violin, viola or cello.

The curriculum itself is emergent, drawing from the children's curiosity and desire for knowledge. Now, I see the students as partners and participants in the process of the acquisition of this knowledge. 

For PreK, I offer provocations to spark student interest – planting a seed or introducing a potential topic. For example, last year I provided natural materials to construct “instruments.” The children discussed their ideas and collaborated as their inventions materialized. Other avenues of interest developed and a handful of students delved into that research, while others remained with the original idea. 

Many provocations I introduce take off, and the children spend ample amounts of time on their ideas, sometimes carrying over several class meetings. Knowing when to move on is an important skill for the teacher.

An important part of my role as teacher is to document the children's processes as they are occurring. I observe closely and listen carefully. Sometimes I ask questions to see what the children are thinking, such as, “how did you come up with your idea?” As the children answer, others add into the conversation and share their point of view. I sometimes pose follow up questions to help us dive a little deeper. 

I use documentation in my teaching, because it allows me to look back and reveal areas of student interest that I missed or passed by too quickly. It provides me with material from which I can build upon student knowledge and avenues for fresh provocations and research. 

To document, I use my phone to take candid photos and videos of the students sharing their learning. On occasion, I transcribe a video where two students are researching something together. Another type of documentation is of a creation, such as an instrument made from natural materials or a drawing of sound waves. Children’s work is visible throughout the school, making learning visible to the entire school community. This is a powerful method of sharing children’s thinking.  

The process of documenting student work can be a daunting prospect if one has never explored its possibilities. Beginning with small steps is helpful. A great way to start is to choose only a couple of groups to document for a short period of time. Keep things simple with a photo here and there or a quick video of students working together. Then, set an intentional time to revisit and reflect on your documentation. Print photos, transcribe a snippet of conversation and consider what part of the learning you want to build upon.

As a provocation, I offered the children an array of loose string instrument parts. These included broken pieces of violins, like fingerboard, pegs, bridges, bows, string, etc.

  

I did not provide any verbal direction to the children, but rather, observed them follow their curiosity. Many attempted to put together their concept of an instrument. Others were interested in manipulating the parts to try to make a sound.

One student, while examining a bow, discovered that there were small mechanisms that manipulated the tension of the bow hair.

“Hey, there’s a screw.”
Brian discovers that there is a screw that loosens the bow hair.

“Look! It comes off!”
Brian discovers that the frog is removable and the bow hair is loose.

I invited the owner and head luthier from a local violin shop to come visit the PreK classes and demonstrate a bow being re-haired. The students were enthralled. He started by having one of the students cut the bow hair of the bow that he was going to work with, which is a big no-no in the string world! We used a camera to document so the children could see what he was doing close-up. They were fascinated by the new horse hair that he brought for rehairing the bow, and the luthier passed a lock of horse hair around for the students to hold and feel. Following the event, I expanded upon the students’ excitement and interest in horse hair with a provocation about the bow and what it is made of, specifically, horse hair. This tied the whole experience together and expanded the children’s interest in the process of rehairing.

. 

An emergent curriculum still maintains a level of classroom structure and planning and this can take time to balance and incorporate. For my purposes, I am able to utilize a more authentic Reggio Emilia approach with my youngest students and allow skills to become a part of the learning exploration. I discovered that the Reggio Emilia approach is, in fact, organically aligned to string instrument education–or any education for that matter. I find it to be a perfect fit for me personally and professionally. It allows me time and flexibility in my teaching. If a student wants to stop and try something, or ask a question about a part of the instrument, we can take the time to explore. Of course, I would like to deliver my lesson plans in a timely manner and I have goals that I would like to achieve with my students, but now I don’t feel as much haste in the process. My intention is to expose my students to string instruments in a way that brings them joy and a sense of accomplishment. The children come first. They are capable, curious, knowledge-seekers and have the right to equal access to learning a string instrument. 

The ELC string program has two years under its belt. As with any new program, we’re finding large and small ways to evolve. I never imagined myself, at this point in my career, undertaking this complete shift in the philosophy, approach and delivery of my teaching. I am now teaching more authentically and with greater intention. Continued growth depends on patience, perseverance and good communication.

In order to create 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 and synergistic entry points; it is not a method, program or curriculum. (Key Principles)

​​Education is “always a political discourse whether we know it or not. It is about working with cultural choices, but it clearly also means working with political choices.”

Loris Malaguzzi

The Reggio Emilia project had an explicitly political birth at the end of World War II contesting fascism, asserting women’s rights and calling for greater social equality through collective civic action. This political aspect of the Reggio Approach is often overlooked or avoided.

https://reggio-emilia-research.com/en/

A basic principle of the Reggio Approach is an image of the child as capable, competent, desiring to be in relation with others and bearing rights. Advocacy is not a separate activity in this context, but instead, a fundamental role for teachers, parents, and the wider community as they defend and promote these rights, desires and potentials.

 A journey into rights

Making learning visible through documentation brings the thinking of children into public awareness: 

at the mall,

at the Capitol and


within administrative venues.

You are engaged in advocacy, not only when you work to influence public policy or engage in civic action, but also when you document and make visible the work of children, collaborate with colleagues, participate in a Network event or challenge norms.

Everywhere Atelier, A Scholarship Reflection
Heidi Wolf
Heidi Wolf is the Program Director and early childhood teacher at Benilde St. Margaret’s School in St. Louis Park, MN. She is currently interested in the effects of the environment on children and the benefits of loose parts material explorations. Heidi serves on the Board of the Reggio-Inspired Network of Minnesota and along with RINM colleagues, founded the Loose Parts Laboratory: Materials Center for teachers, families and the greater community. She holds a degree in child psychology from the University of Minnesota. 

I am writing this reflection with deep gratitude to the Network for supporting my experience at the “Everywhere Atelier” workshop, led by educational consultant and atelierista Roberta Pucci in Reggio Emilia, Italy in June 2025. I had so many questions about the trip ahead of time, like “How can I best prepare myself to get the most out of this experience?” I read books and articles, asked others about their experiences and sought advice from those who participated in Reggio Children Study Tours. Ultimately, I decided to let go of the anxiety and pressure and bring myself as an open book. My goal was to take in each moment and absorb as much as I could. 

Each day was thoughtfully planned with multiple ways to explore various materials in hands-on workshops. For example, during a midweek trip to Bologna, the walk from the train to the workshop was an intentional part of the experience. Were we able to slow down? What details were we drawn to? What did we notice? Did we see the beauty in the porticos and arches that framed each alley, the massive door knobs, the mosaic tile works on the sidewalks?  Details were and are everywhere, but how often do we slow down to notice? From the perspective of a child, what would they notice?

  

After our long walk, we rang a bell outside one of the many massive doors around the city. We were at the art studio, Interlinea Lab, owned by Valentina Pucci.

We entered what can only be described as a secret garden. Valentina’s studio and home were located down a cobblestone path and behind an iron gate that opened into a beautiful garden.  

Coffee, refreshments and sweet and savory treats welcomed us into a space complete with bamboo plants and shade from a massive flowering magnolia tree.

Valentina led a session exploring paper as a surface and thread as an unconventional graphic tool. The thread was not to embroider in the traditional sense where the design of the thread patterns is the focus. In this case, the thread became marks on paper, leading to experimentation and dialogue between the two materials. 

Roberta led a session looking closely at and transforming paper in many ways, one of which was to manipulate wet paper and objects. This created the opportunity to bring impressions of the objects into the paper.

 

Both of these experiences with paper, along with the walk to the garden studio (in the middle of the bustling city), made a huge impression on me. They highlighted the impact of surroundings and context, which literally and physically made impressions on us as educators. Valentina and Roberta described four essential ingredients for building relationships with others and the world: precision, gentle gestures, time and silence. 

For example, if you push paper too fast or hard when it's wet it rips. Working gently and with precision and time, the wet paper can take on the impression of other materials. Threads become tangled or rip the paper surface when rushed. 

I wondered, how do these essential ingredients – precision, gentle gestures, time and silence – impact our work with children? Do we slow down for children? Do we offer time and silence and really observe? These can be true gifts to the children in our care. How do we as educators make impressions on those around us?

As I reflected on my journal notes each night, I realized that people were the common thread I wrote about each day. I saw passion for children, learning and community as the teachers and children exchanged ideas around documentation panels and tour guides responded to our questions.

The most impactful part of the trip was not the famous town, the piazzas or the buildings, it was the idea of many cultures coming together, in dialogue with one another. I experienced the people, the culture and the essence of a community that supports each other. These important parts of the Reggio philosophy were evident in the experiences that Roberta and others facilitated. My new question is how I might bring the essence of this experience back to my community and our local contexts. 

My suitcase may be unpacked and all the new books and materials put away on a shelf, but I believe it will take much more time to unpack the ideas still rolling around in my heart from this amazing opportunity. This experience has left a deep and lasting impression on me, and for this I will forever be grateful.

Fundamentals: Tribute to Lella Gandini
A Tribute to Lella Gandini, an obituary published by Daily Hampshire Gazette, June 21, 2025

Northampton, MA - It is with deep sadness that we mark the passing of Elena (Lella) Gandini Little, a renowned educator, author, and tireless advocate for early childhood education, who died on June 16, 2025, in Northampton, Massachusetts, at the age of 90. Lella's work profoundly shaped educational practices in North America and beyond, primarily through her commitment to the model developed in the city of Reggio Emilia in Italy.

    

Lella was born in Tregnago, Italy on July 3, 1934. She moved from Italy to the United States in 1972 when she married distinguished historian Lester K. Little, now Professor Emeritus at Smith College. Their dedicated partnership helped them maintain strong ties and important influence in both countries, in part through their leadership of the American Academy in Rome from 1999 to 2006.

Lella earned a B.A. and M.A. at Smith College and an Ed.D. at the University of Massachusetts. Her doctoral work included a dissertation on children's bedtime rituals, exploring the "historical background of traditions (lullabies) and devices (swaddling clothes, cradles) to ease and facilitate the going to sleep of infants and young children" and the "rituals of separation at bedtime." She also conducted comparative studies, noting that in the U.S., book reading was more prevalent for bedtime transitions, while in Italy, storytelling, lullabies, or lying beside the child were more common.

In the 1970s Lella published several books for children in Italy, focusing mainly on traditional nursery rhymes and fairy tales. As she became familiar with schools and childcare centers in the U.S., she realized that many of the practices that she observed did not correspond to the child development theories she had studied that placed value on relationships and learning. Thus she began to bring visual materials and documented stories from Pistoia and Reggio Emilia to present and publish in the U.S., to help educators open new possibilities both for children and for their own profession.

In 1976, Lella began collaborating closely with Loris Malaguzzi, the founder of the Reggio Emilia approach. Lella became Malaguzzi's trusted translator during his pivotal visits to the U.S. She served as United States Liaison for the Dissemination of the Reggio Emilia approach, and as Associate Editor of the journal, Innovations in Early Childhood Education, which dedicated a special issue to her accomplishments in 2023.

Lella championed the Reggio view of children and teachers as endowed with strong potential, ready to engage in relationships, listen, and learn together. She highlighted the teacher's role as a "researcher in collaboration with colleagues," and stressed the importance of relationships among children, teachers, and the environment, which is considered the "third teacher." Her work underscored the "hundred languages of children" – their diverse ways of expressing thoughts and theories through drawing, sculpting, storytelling, dramatic play, and other forms of creativity. She also promoted the idea that nothing in school should happen without joy. Lella observed and shared instances of children's playful discoveries, demonstrating how deeply trusting teachers can spark children's learning.

Lella taught at the University of Massachusetts, Lesley College, and Smith College and served as a Visiting Scholar at Lesley University from 2008. Her honors include an Honorary Doctorate in Humane Letters from the Erikson Institute (2004) and the Smith College Medal for Distinguished Alumnae (2008). Among her publications for educators, the best known is The Hundred Languages of Children: The Reggio Emilia Approach to Early Childhood Education, which has been translated into at least 26 languages across at least 145 countries.

Lella's collaborations with Cathy Topal at the Smith Fort Hill School and Center for Early Childhood Education culminated in their co-authored Beautiful Stuff books and many influential teaching workshops. Her close friendship with beloved local children's author Eric Carle further underscored her appreciation for the intersection of art and early learning.

Learning Journeys
Judith Julig 
Judith Julig is a retired early childhood teacher and parent educator. She worked with young children and their families in many different settings for more than 40 years. A highlight of her career was working with other teachers and mentors learning and practicing the Reggio Emilia Approach. 

After serving as a literacy coach in an urban public school district for a number of years, I returned to a Pre-K classroom in the same district with great anticipation. I recalled my visits to two Reggio-inspired colleagues’ spaces, which contained rich layers of documentation, communicating the children’s interests and studies. I noticed evidence of reflective practice with the team and connections to the children’s lives at home. I recognized a level of teaching in their work that I had never achieved, but strongly aspired to.  

The children and I came together with shared anxiety. They were all new to school, very few spoke much English and I knew little of their languages. They were very brave, and I also had to be very brave. I soon learned that most of the limitations were my own because these children were eager and curious learners. I had to readjust my way of “being” in the classroom. 

The meaning behind “100 Languages of Children” began to make sense to me as I paid greater attention to the varied ways the children communicated with me and with each other. This was more challenging than I thought it would be. It had been easier to set up simple “arts and crafts,” send them home at the end of the day and then start all over the next day. I soon realized that without making their work visible and revisiting it, something was lacking. 

We learned together. I began inviting the children to regroup and revisit their day’s work by sharing it with their classmates and making plans to revisit it the next day. They learned that what they did was important, that their work was safe at school and that we needed it for continued study.  

My growth and understanding as a teacher paralleled the growth and understanding of the children. I learned that I had to carefully “listen” to the mélange of activity within the room. There are always many stories a teacher can choose to tell. To support the context for learning, I encouraged social interaction, provided fresh “raw materials” as provocation and privileged particular work in order to elicit questions and sustain interest.

A study of owls and birds in our neighborhoods emerged from reading the book, Owl Babies by Martin Waddell. It became a pivotal spot in my growth as a “listening” teacher and documenter of children’s learning. The book makes clearly visible the worries of child-parent separation. The children were drawn in by the story, enjoyed repeated readings, participated in the refrains and showed great interest when invited to draw owl babies. 

We could have stopped there. I could have sent the drawings home and chosen a new book for the following week. But, the children had questions and this was the point at which I started paying more attention to their voices and ideas. 

What could I do with this interest? A child asked, “What kind of food does she bring back?” I said, “We can find out.” I brought back an armful of books about owls. The children were fascinated by pictures of an owl with a fish or mouse in its talons.

In a meeting with Reggio-inspired colleagues, we studied the traces we collected, considering what we might offer back to the children to ignite deeper engagement. Questions about practice emerged: How do we “regroup to revisit?” How do we connect a child to their first effort to elicit more detail? In what ways do we draw the attention of other children into this process? I returned to the classroom with renewed interest and courage to attempt more with the children. 

The children and I began to create a documentation panel of our work. They used a variety of two and three-dimensional media to express what they were learning about owls and other birds. 

The children began to select work and requested tape to attach additions to the growing documentation. Their drawings became more detailed as the children studied real owls and their habitat. With encouragement, they wrote about their ideas and a vocabulary about owls emerged. As their vocabulary grew, so grew my skills as a documenter and transcriber of children’s thinking.

I came to realize that the standards that I was accountable to teach were met, and often exceeded, as a result of this rich, engaging collaboration between and among the children, the adults and the materials. 

I noticed the children spontaneously talking about owls and other birds, and I wondered how to capitalize on their responses. In an email exchange, a colleague suggested ways I could scaffold the conversations by offering questions like, “Have you seen owls?” or “Do owls live by this park or by the pond?” 

In the exchange of emails and reflections with colleagues that emerged from studying the children’s work, we also considered the children’s parents. What role can the parents play? How do you draw the parents’ voices in? What do you send home with the children to entice these voices? How might we encourage a reciprocal exchange? I recalled the daily pages that other Reggio-inspired teachers sent home and realized that I had not yet made many family connections. 

Early on, to connect with parents, I sent home book bags. During spring conferences, I added the children’s work about owls and birds, some images and transcribed conversations. I also sent a note asking families to look for birds in their neighborhood and to draw and write with their child about what they saw. This work from home became part of our study.

Again, I asked, “Where can we go from here?” and colleagues suggested slowing down, examining ways to “enrich the terrain” to deepen or extend the children’s work. The public library became a resource, including their urban birding activity. 

The trajectory of this work began with the intimate and ended with the public – from the intensity of parent/child separation (described in the book, Owl Babies), to owls in general, then on to other birds, to wildlife in our neighborhood and finally, urban birding. 

As I reflect on this experience, I can see the emergent process that came out of working with trust and curiosity at the heart. I offered more “languages,” saw potential beyond isolated activities, trusted the children, conferred with colleagues along the way and welcomed family input. The result was a much deeper and more coherent experience for the children and enormously satisfying for me as an educator. I was able to make a deeper connection for the children to the place they now live.

Children's Places of Importance
Meredith Dodd
Meredith Dodd is an early childhood and teacher educator. While a Head Teacher in the Nursery School at the University of Chicago Laboratory Schools, Meredith focused on the craft of pedagogical documentation. She thinks deeply about the role children have in democracy, cultivated by her connection to her Kanienkéha:ka (Mohawk) ancestral homelands of the Six Nations of the Grand River. Meredith learned about the incredible influence the Kanienkéha:ka, and all the Nations within the Haudenosaunee Confederacy, had on the creation of democratic thinking and governing structures of the United States. Meredith’s passion is to support people of all ages to open the doors of self-acceptance, self-love and to know how it feels to belong, the essence of living fully in a democracy.

Secret spaces may be found inside, outdoors, or in the middle of nowhere – in a tree, fort, snow igloo, or beneath the stairs. But seeking getaways like Cruso’s bower or the bridge to Terabithia, is essential to putting things together for themselves and becoming who they are… The social construction of a voice, the discovery of a way to be “Me,” thus requires a complex bridging such as words and objects perform, locating a middle ground of experimentation and expression.   

-Elizabeth Goodenough

Childhood memories play an important part in who we are as adults. To make a difference in the world, remembering our secret spaces of childhood is important. Whether real or imagined, they connect us to our earliest experiences of belonging. These spaces often mark our first sense of autonomy, creativity and agency. They are our first encounters with systems of relationships and culture. 

Such memories are not just nostalgic, they are formative. They offer insight into how we began to understand ourselves as participants in a shared world. The cumulative impact of these early experiences shapes how we engage with others, how we express our needs, how we listen, how we are heard and how we speak up. These are foundational acts of democratic participation.

When adults reflect on these formative spaces, they reconnect with a sense of agency and belonging that is crucial to civic life. They remember what it felt like to matter, to explore and to enter spaces. This remembering can strengthen their voice in the present. It becomes easier to understand why participation matters, why every voice counts and why systems must include all people, not just those who speak the loudest.

“Democracy has to be born anew every generation, and education is its midwife.” 

-John Dewey

If democracy must be continually reborn, then childhood, and the education of the heart and mind through lived experience, is where that rebirth begins. When we take childhood seriously, we lay the groundwork for more inclusive, imaginative and participatory futures.

The context for this investigation, about children’s special spaces and memory, was a college lab school with access to many indoor and outdoor places. We invited the students to think about places important to them, beyond those we explored at school. The children involved were four and five-year old students who had been with me the year before as threes and fours.

Children constantly make meaning by constructing their understandings of the world from where they’ve been, their experiences in those places and the relationships in their lives. The early childhood teacher is in a position to hear children’s deep, thoughtful, joyful and complex ideas about the world, which are often wrapped in expressions of emotion.Too often and sometimes inadvertently, adults stifle children’s efforts to make sense of the world.

In our classroom, we used the word landscape to define spaces: our block building area was the landscape table and the outdoor environments were particular landscapes. In this investigation, students were offered multiple languages: drawing, building using wood and other three-dimensional materials, paints and storytelling. In their play, children developed a repertoire of ever-changing environments to develop a lived sense of the patterns that connect. 

What is the pattern that connects the crab to the lobster and the primrose to the orchid, and all of them to me, and me to you? What is the pattern which connects? 

-Gregory Bateson 

The children’s voices and emotions are patterns that connect, expressed through the hundred languages – spoken, unspoken, through gestures and media. Language is sacred because it connects the inner life and the shared world; it is how children enter places, express their truths, begin to participate and listen each-other into being. In honoring their languages, we are practicing democracy in its earliest form–listening deeply, making space and recognizing that every voice matters.

I created a process for investigating “Children’s Places of Importance” with the intention of supporting the students’ thinking and was curious to observe how they would respond to the sequence I proposed. Over the course of a month in the spring, and working with the children in small groups, we began with questions: 

What landscape, place, space is important to you?  
How would you share its meaning with others?

 

DRAW: Imagine an important landscape.

SELECT: Inspired by materials. 

BUILD:  Find the tools, begin 3D construction.  

STORY-TELL: Reflect with watercolor.

My role was to take the children seriously and listen deeply. Having selected the sequence, I made strong invitations, changed the invitation or made it more complex by moving into a pre-selected language and was patient with even the most reluctant children. All this created the conditions for students’ thinking to become visible. 

They started by talking about their memories of important places. I was present but conscious of listening carefully. Over the course of the work, some stories shifted and a few places changed. Some students were hesitant while others were eager. Different media drew out different competencies. There was storytelling throughout, but the stories presented here came at the end. 

Henry 

     

Once my dad was walking along when he saw a flower. His wife, my mom, was walking with him. And they were at the botanical garden. And then they saw a flower. And I was walking along with my dad and mom and Arlo. It’s important to me because I’m a big brother.

Nora

       

Me and my sister were at the beach and my sister went in to swim and she saw a fish and I was making a sand castle. The end. I like going to the beach, because I get to make sandcastles.
Gabriel 

 

It’s called the Black Treedom Forest. There’s animals in it. And they are armies for me. The path leads to my kingdom. The path is made out of wind. If someone steps on one of the wrong pieces of wood they die. The wind helps the bad guys to fake it.  

Gus 

   

 

Above the Clouds 
My landscape is a land floating above the sky. And the chains are supposed to be connected to the ground. There are floating trees and floating bushes. It’s my peace place, that’s why it’s important to me.

Livia 

 

It’s about the birdhouse. So birds come inside. They could go on that piece of string, but it’s not there because I forgot to do that. This is the roof. The green and blue pompoms are pillows for the birds, and they can take them off. The colors of the sky are red, purple, blue, light blue. It’s so important for the birds because some of them don’t have homes.

Children’s early experiences, and the memories of those experiences, influence who they become as adults. My hope is that the exploration of spaces brings us, the adults, closer to understanding each child and children as a collective of thinkers, dreamers, makers and thoughtful partners with our environments. Families can, by listening (or not), affect that process. If you don’t know that your voice and feelings are important and that you need to advocate for them, you won’t know how to participate. Democratic habits are learned during early childhood. 

Perhaps we can learn from children the importance of the places we introduce them to, participate in and care for, and take part in the patterns of memory-making that will inform their developing sense of self.

We cannot live without meaning, that would preclude any sense of identity, any hope, any future. 

-Carlina Rinaldi

March 10, 2025

Dear colleagues,

Greetings in this perilous time in the United States, which has such impactful reverberations around the world. We’re writing to you as comrades committed to inspire thoughtful, ethical action on behalf of children, families, educators, schools, communities. We who have been nourished and challenged and fortified by the schools in Reggio Emilia have a significant responsibility and opportunity to speak out and act up.

Too often, the historical context for the creation of the first schools in Reggio is overlooked. If ever there is a time to call that history forward, it's now, as citizens in the US confront a authoritarian coup that is unraveling our democracy.

You know the story well, and Malaguzzi's telling of it. You know his declaration that:

We are part of an ongoing story of men and women, ideals intact, who realize that history can be changed, and that it is changed starting with the future of children.

And you’ve heard his reflection that:

The first philosophy learned from these extraordinary events [Mussolini’s rise to power], in the wake of such a war [World War II], was to give a human, dignified, civil meaning to existence, to be able to make choices with clarity of mind and purpose, and to yearn for the future of mankind.

What choices are we called to make now, in the face of the “extraordinary events” that are taking place? What clarity and purpose can we mobilize to guide our choices? How can we join together to chart a course forward for our work?

This is a time for our courage. Those of us who look to Reggio for inspiration and heart have a responsibility to speak out about why a pedagogy inspired by Reggio matters. A responsibility to spotlight the ways in which this approach cultivates curious minds and expansive imaginations—children’s and our own; grows an appreciation for questions; enhances our capacity to engage complexities beyond either/or thinking; opens us to a wider embrace of our shared humanity. Strengthens our capacity to resist authoritarianism and to creatively construct the society that we want to see flourish.

Many of us, both in the US and outside this besieged country, are building a resistance movement to the “extraordinary events” taking place in the US that are aimed at dismantling structures and spaces dedicated to progressive education, social justice teaching and learning, and the rights of children, their families, and educators to live proudly in the fullness of their identities. How might we allow ourselves to be truly inspired by Reggio, joining together to act, “ideals intact,” committed to change history?

As we mobilize our courage, consider the forums in which we might individually or collectively take action in our communities:

Are you a member of NAREA or a state Reggio network? Will you be attending the NAREA conference in Hamilton?

Do you have a podcast?

Do you teach adults?

Are you a director or pedagogical leader of an early childhood education program?

Are you involved in a Community of Practice? In a book group?

Consider questions that we might pose with colleagues to launch dialogue, learning, and action:

Matt Karlsen and Susan Harris MacKay, at the Studio for Playful Inquiry, ask us: What is the nature of teaching for democracy, and how might that be different than teaching for autocracy?

Let’s ask each other: What lessons can we learn from the story of the founding of the schools in Reggio Emilia, where citizens turned to a pedagogical vision to ensure that fascism would find no toehold in the lively minds and engaged hearts of children?

What action can we take that is worthy of the legacy of Reggio’s founding? Action to protect the immigrant and transgender children, families, and teachers in our schools? Action to teach the true history of the US—Indigenous history, the history of resistance to enslavement and white supremacy, the history of women rising up together, the history of workers and unions, the history of disability activism? Action to resist the dismantling of the Department of Education?

How might we come together to support each other in our boldness and determination, in our efforts to develop broad, effective strategies of collective resistance, to nurture our joy and to sustain our lives beyond fear and despair? How might we comfort and reassure each other in our tears, exhaustion and rage? What existing organizations and undertakings might move into a coordinating role to further our thinking and connections?

This is a time for us to respond to Malaguzzi's call to action. This is a time for each of us—and for us collectively—to join the ongoing story of people who realize that history can be changed.

Please add your name to ours and send this out to people in your networks. If there’s an arena in which you can imagine taking action or inviting dialogue, jot that down, too, as you forward this. None of us has to do everything, but there is something for each of us to do.

So much is possible when we stand strong, together.

With hope in collective resistance,

Ann Pelo and Margie Carter

Exploring the Languages of Snow and Ice

Presenters: Joey Schoen and Kristenza Nelson

Reflections from Participants:

A wonderful morning of exploring the many joys that can be taken from the winter season.  Joey and Kristenza started the event with asking participants what their favorite seasons were and why.  This was a great way for everyone to share in the dialogue.  We learned that our outlook and enthusiasm makes all the difference in presenting experiences to children.  

Winter is full of possibilities for exploration, as all have access to snow and ice.  Snow and Ice are open ended and the creativity in children, bursts out of them.  Every child enjoys building snowmen which opens up conversations on different types of snow and learning about the science.  Children are always ready to go outside but they don’t have long term memory and quickly realize they’re cold.  Be mindful, check in with the children often and teach them how to shake off mittens.  Have provocations ready to go when the children arrive outside.  Some children are going to enjoy the experience and some are not, embrace both.  Keep it fun! 

Snow activity ideas: picnics, bring the outside in and vice versa, pull dolls in sleds, use time lapse photography, look for revelations in outdoor surrounding, snow stories from animal tracks, discovering scat, winter affects on sound, moonlight on snow, tree shadows on snow, different layers of snow and how it captures light, snow forts, using like glue-imbedding objects in. Designs and patterns from boots and other items, melting snow, drawing in snow, sculptures  with natural materials and snow, pushing heavy snowballs-requires collaboration, cut chunks of snow and build with, use snow saws, make big piles, pack it down, hollow it out, ask parents to help build Quinzi mounds.

Ice Activities ideas: puddles, smashing, wood pick made from sticks, how much weight can ice hold, air bubbles in layers, breaking ice-using  pieces, molds-ice cube trays, color droppers, freeze twine in molds to hang ice shapes.  Use Sensory tables for combining ice and snow-colored water and eye droppers, brushes.  Ice cubes outside can become treasure, ice slides, water freezing in gutters 

Reflections by Kelly Kritsberg Assistant Director/Toddler Teacher South Metro Montessori School

After attending the workshop on snow and ice, it brought me back to my sense of wonder and curiosity of the natural world.  What a great opportunity to meet with other educators and discuss our own experiences with snow and ice while exploring Dodge Nature School’s space and the work of their teachers with the children.  As I walked the environment, I could see the beauty of materials that was offered to children and I could see learning happening.  I will take these experiences/conversations back to my own environment and develop provocations for snow and ice in our own context. Snow and ice evokes a sense of serene beauty, purity and the stark transformation of the wintry landscape. 

Reflections by Cecilia Condra Preschool Teacher South Metro Montessori School

It was a very rich experience, in the sense that we were able to get to know other participants, talk about what we like and share different perspectives about the topic at hand.  It reminds us again, that it is a matter of observing every detail before our eyes and discovering through provocations, that children can think beyond what their eyes observe.  There were lots of ideas and themes presented on how to take advantage of the season.  Participating in these gatherings always gives me more ideas from the opportunities to discuss the unique experiences presented.  I was very grateful to participate and meet new teachers!