Kinderoo Ocala

Today is Kinterra’s (K–2nd grade) first Documentation and Art Exhibit. This work has been unfolding over the year, and today we share it with our community.

To create classrooms that are warm, curious, collaborative, and respectful of children, the spaces where we gather educators for professional learning should feel the same way.

If you’re in Florida, I’ll be hosting a 6-hour Wonder Lab Immersive Experience on Thursday, October 16th, at the Florida Association for the Education of Young Children (FLAEYC) pre-conference.

Most of the participants who attend the pre-conference sensions tend to be school directors, trainers, and coaches. So my personal goal is to invite leaders to model the kind of environment and experiences we want teachers to create for children.

And of course, this workshop is for everyone. Come experience the wonder of Self-Active Play in a space where we’ll be playing with materials and designing meaningful wonder spaces for all.

To register: https://site.pheedloop.com/event/FLAEYC2025/home/

In a complicated, fast-changing world, the intelligent path is to let go of being a Knower and embrace being a Learner.

GUY CLAXTON, WHAT’S THE POINT OF SCHOOL?

Our teachers are EMPOWERED learners, dedicating time each week to Self-Active Play sessions during their work schedule. This summer we’re exploring the question: How can we create Immersive Play Environments that foster growth and exploration?

Thank you, Rachelle Roper at Feed The Need Garden, for being such a big part of our school’s organic garden journey. Year after year, you show up for our children—with seeds, soil, wisdom, and so much heart. Because of you, they’re not just learning how to grow vegetables—they’re learning to care, to wonder, and to slow down and notice the little things (like ladybugs hiding under leaves!). We’re so grateful for your guidance, your kindness, and the way you’ve helped turn our garden into a space full of life and daily learning.

It feels like just a few weeks ago you came by with all kinds if seeds seeds—and now look at this space. The vegetables have taken off, and so have the children’s questions, excitement, and sense of responsibility.

Exploring Blue: A Three-Week Art Journey with the 2-Year-Old Classroom

March 2025

This project began as part of our everyday practice of observing children's schemas—repeating patterns in how children move, explore, and play. Some children line things up, some love to swing or spin, while others are drawn to stacking or pouring. These patterns help us understand how each child is learning and making sense of the world.

At our school, we start noticing these patterns from the moment a child joins us. While this art project originally started with the goal of creating a product for our art exhibit, what we saw during these three weeks went far beyond that. As children painted, explored, and experimented with different tools, their individual schemas came to life.

And even though the project ended with a product—the painted wooden pieces—the children’s curiosity to explore and learn continues. Their interest in movement, touch, color, and materials is ongoing, and we will continue to support and follow those discoveries.

Week One: Discovering Tools and the Color Blue

March 13, 2025

Children explored painting on loose wooden pieces using tools like hammers, cotton, sponges, squeeze bottles, strainers, and pendulums. Each tool brought a new way to move, create, and explore.

With hammers, children explored force—some tapped gently, while others hit with excitement to watch paint splatter.

Cotton and sponges helped children notice texture and pressure, as they rubbed and pressed color into the wood.

Squeeze bottles showed them how paint flowed differently depending on how hard they squeezed.

Strainers surprised them with splashes of paint in all directions, we often witnessed laughter and repetition.

The pendulum captured their attention with swinging movements and paint that made curved lines.

Children noticed how blue looked different depending on how much paint they used or how many layers they added. Some said things like “It’s darker!” or “I need more paint,” showing how closely they were observing.

Week Two: Blue, Nature, and the Language of Light

March 21, 2025

This week we created three spaces that invited children to explore the color blue through light, movement, and materials from nature.

Space 1: Light and Shadows

We projected blue light and moving water patterns onto the walls. Children saw waves, bubbles, boats, and shadows.

✨Henry: “I see the water!”
✨Olivia: “On the wall I see bubbles.”
✨Logan: “This is a telescope. I see a boat.”
✨Jhene explored shadows by moving objects to see how the shapes changed.

Space 2: Painting with Natural Tools

Children used homemade brushes made from branches and fabric strips. Some made new tools on their own!

✨August used a pen.
✨Gianna painted with her hands.
✨Raúl used paper.
✨Lincoln tapped the wood with his brush to make texture.

Each child chose how they wanted to explore

Space 3: Bridge Over Water

We created a small bridge with moving blue light underneath to look like flowing water.

✨Ruth: “It’s a magical bridge!”
✨Braelym: “Water moves.”
✨Mikael laid near the rocks to watch the light closely.
✨Logan: “The stones glitter under the bridge.”

This setup encouraged movement, balance, and imagination as children crossed, explored, and observed.

Special Moments

Some of the most memorable moments happened when children played freely and discovered things on their own:

Blue Sponges in Water: Children watched the paint change in water with amazement and curiosity.

Painting Freely: Choosing their own tools—sponges, brushes, or hands—children expressed themselves with confidence.

Outdoor Play: Running and jumping outside, they noticed blue objects and nature all around them.

Shadow Play: Children moved lights and objects, noticing how blue changed the look and shape of shadows.

Week Three: Exploring Blue in New Ways

March 27, 2025

The children explored similar materials in three stages:

Hammers, Cotton, and Wood

✨Logan pressed wooden pieces into painted surfaces to make prints.

✨Raúl compared hammer sizes: “This one is big!” He hit pieces to watch the paint splash.

✨Lilliana made soft prints with cotton, trying both large and small pieces.

✨Holly used a hammer like a paintbrush, sliding it across the wood.

✨Miko enjoyed the feel of the cotton.

✨Jazmine held a paintbrush in one hand and a hammer in the other.

Pendulums and Squeeze Bottles

✨Miko poured paint into the strainer and watched it swing and drip. He also made handprints.

✨Holly swung the pendulum gently and forcefully, watching the paths it made.

✨Jazmine watched drops of paint fall from her fingers and the strainer, following them closely.

Sponges and Wood

✨Logan started carefully, then fully joined in as he squeezed paint and let it drip.

✨Raúl painted the surface first, then moved wood pieces across it.

✨Lilliana stacked painted blocks and pressed them together.

✨Holly stamped the sponge firmly onto the wood.

✨Miko explored the sponge’s texture, learning how squeezing changed the result.

This art project was a way for children to explore the world using their whole bodies. They explored how materials react, how color changes, and how their actions can create something new. They followed their interests, used their hands, eyes, and minds, and shared joyful moments with one another.

Even though we ended with a final piece of art, what matters most is the exploration that happened along the way—and the learning that continues.

Their schemas did not stop when the painting was done. They’re still exploring, wondering, and discovering—every single day.

📸📝 Kelly Gallego and Lillibeth Ramirez

Transformation in Their Hands: An Ongoing Journey of Material Exploration

Palomino Classroom Project Documentation
2024–2025

When this journey began in December, we had a product in mind. The plan was to follow the children’s interest in rocks and create something meaningful for our annual art exhibit—a culminating display of their work. But what unfolded over the following weeks and months shifted our thinking in the most beautiful way.

What began as a study of rocks evolved into something much more: a living, breathing exploration of transformation, of process, and of the endless possibilities within ordinary materials. We came to understand that when children are given space, time, and trust, their questions don’t end when a product is made. Their curiosity keeps going. And so must we.

It All Began with Rocks

While observing nature, the children’s attention was drawn to rocks. They began collecting them, touching them, noticing their weight, texture, and color. Soon, they were grinding soft rocks with rotary graters and mortar and pestals —tools that quickly became a daily classroom favorite.

This sparked a question:

"If we can crush a rock into powder… can we turn that powder back into a rock?"

From this question, the children launched into experimentation—mixing glue, soil, oatmeal, and flour. Their first batches crumbled or stayed too soft. But trial after trial, they adjusted proportions, changed techniques, and ultimately found a mixture that worked.

Olivia: “I DID IT!”
Parker: “Woah, the soil made it look like a real rock!”
The pride was visible. But so was something else: the desire to keep going.

Color, Texture, and the Curiosity to Keep Going

As the children gained confidence, new ideas emerged. Inspired by another classroom’s use of chalk, they began collecting chalk scraps to explore the role of color in transformation. They ground the chalk into powder and mixed it into their “rock” mixtures. Along the way, they discovered:

✔️Color mixing (and how it sometimes doesn’t behave as expected)
✔️Ratios and measurement
✔️Weight, mass, and texture
✔️And, always, sensory fun!

Each batch led to new ideas. One child wrapped a colored mixture around an earlier rock and proudly announced, “It’s heavy now.”

Their work became less about making a rock, and more about understanding how materials change, how colors interact, and how transformation feels in your hands.

From Painted Pasta to Powdered Pigments

By February, the children had expanded their experimentation beyond rocks. They painted dry lasagna noodles, cracked them, ground them, and discovered that once turned to powder, the bright colors faded. But again, they didn’t stop there.

Olivia: “CHALK!”
With this discovery, they began combining chalk and pasta, experimenting until they could achieve the colors they wanted in powder form. They tested proportions, mixed by hand or spoon, and even began sharing strategies with each other, like real researchers.

Meanwhile, others turned their attention to clay, testing how it broke apart, what tools worked best, and how the resulting powder could be used.

These materials—once isolated—soon began to mix. Clay + chalk + pasta + flour + glue. Every combination was a hypothesis. Every outcome, a discovery.

Letting Go of the “Final Product”

As we approached our annual art exhibit, we realized something important: this project didn’t want to end. The children were still theorizing, still wondering, still changing the course of the work.

What began as a display for the art show became a celebration of ongoing research—a living archive of their thinking. And we, as educators, began to ask different questions:

What if the art show was not the end, but a moment in time?

What if our work wasn’t about wrapping things up, but opening new doors?

A New Chapter: Food as Material, Cranberries as Color

In the weeks that followed, the children took interest in transforming materials found at home. They painted pasta, crumbled oatmeal, tested rice, explored instant coffee, and experimented with cinnamon. The idea of repurposing food became its own thread in the project.

A special moment came when cranberries entered the classroom.

First explored through touch, scent, and slicing, they were then dehydrated in the oven for 15 hours, turning into something entirely new. The children crushed the berries into vibrant powder and, in a moment of brilliance, mixed them with eggshells they had been exploring earlier.

Olivia: “The eggs and the cranberries mixed make it look pink.”
Parker: “Can the color stay?”
With each new question, the inquiry deepened.

Making It Last

At this stage, we introduced the idea of saving the children’s work by covering it in resin. This allowed their creations—usually soft, messy, and temporary—to become solid and permanent.

The children were amazed. Something they had mixed with their own hands could now be saved and held onto. They could see their ideas stay in place, like a memory you can touch.

What We’ve Learned (So Far)

This project has taught us all something about the nature of learning. The children have become material scientists, color theorists, problem-solvers, and artists. They’ve collaborated, negotiated, persevered, and reflected.

And perhaps most importantly, they’ve reminded us that children’s curiosity doesn’t follow a timeline.

When given the space to lead, children don’t seek a final product. They seek understanding. And that’s exactly what this documentation is—a living record of their search for meaning through matter.

What Comes Next

Though our art exhibit has passed, the work continues. The questions continue. The mixing, the breaking, the combining—these languages of learning are still alive in our classroom.

This documentation is not a final report. It’s a compilation of a living project that began with rocks and continues to unfold with every new material, every “what if,” every eager hand reaching for something to transform.

And so, we follow their lead.

Because as long as children are interested in going further, so are we.

📸 Margarita Parrilla, Alejandra Muñoz, Anny Figuera

Tonight’s NAEYC Play, Policy, and Practice Interest Forum Monthly Meeting with Dr. Sean Durham Associate Professor at Auburn University, was exactly the kind of conversation we need more of.

We explored practical strategies for translating the language of play to parents, principals, and policy makers—not just defending play, but learning how to speak about it in ways that resonate beyond our circles.

It was one of the most insightful dialogues I’ve listened to and participated in a long time. Dr. Durham reminded us that play advocacy demands that we "up our game" and strive for higher levels of professionalism and competency. Our devotion and growth is required—for children’s sake.

Huge thanks to Carly Bedard for facilitating tonight’s meeting with such heart and intention.

Feeling energized and deeply grateful to be in this work with so many thoughtful co-learners. The work continues—and our voices matter!

My reflection: As educators devoted to play, we sometimes assume our passion is enough—but tonight reminded me that passion needs language, intention, and courage. If we want others to truly see the depth of learning in play, we must become translators—bridging the gap between what we know and what others need to hear to believe.

If you’re not already part of the NAEYC Play, Policy, and Practice Interest Forum, I encourage you to join us! We meet the last Tuesday of every month, and the next meeting is scheduled for Tuesday, April 29th.

When the Environment Speaks

When I look at these images, there’s so much happening—both visibly and invisibly. What stands out immediately is the intentionality behind the space. This is a prepared environment in the truest sense, and the way children respond to it feels deeply connected to the care and thoughtfulness of the educator who set it up.

I find myself wondering: Would the experience be the same for the children without the draped fabrics, the flowers, the silver pitchers? Would their play be as imaginative or sustained? These aesthetic and sensory details might not be essential for play to happen—but they certainly seem to invite a different kind of play. Maybe a slower, more imaginative, more relational kind. The presence of these elements signals to the children that this space is special—that their presence and play are valued.

Even though children are free to play in other spaces, this particular space feels like an 'invitation'. One that’s prepared by the adult’s hand and I’magination, yes, but not in a controlling way. Instead, it feels like an offering. A gesture of care. Of deep respect for the child’s right to beauty, to wonder, to choose.

What I see here is more than play. I see an educator who believes that the environment can speak to children. But what happens in the absence of prepared spaces —allowing children to face boredom?

To be continued…

📸 Images taken for a past International Fairy Tea Party Event

Setting up a Light Play Lab is easy!

Creating a light play space doesn’t have to be complicated or expensive. With just a few everyday items, you can invite children into a world of wonder, experimentation, and creativity.

Take a look at this space from Ms. Sandra’s classroom—made entirely from simple materials.

Here’s a list of materials that you might already have around the classroom or home:

✨Transparent & Translucent Objects✨

Colored plastic sheets (cellophane, acetate, gel filters)
Plastic geometric shapes
Colored cups and containers
Iridescent wrapping or mylar
Clear plastic blocks (red, blue, yellow)
Translucent pinwheels
Transparent colored bags (like blue or green plastic)

✨Reflective & Iridescent Materials✨

Foil-like or holographic sheets
Iridescent ribbons or cellophane
Shiny wrapping paper or decorative scraps

✨Natural & Found Materials✨

Dried flowers (e.g., baby’s breath)
Wire or mesh containers (like baskets or cages)
Branches or twigs
Fallen leaves

✨Manipulatives & Frames✨

Small frames (black or decorative)
Wire screens
Miniature chairs or furniture pieces
Clear risers or platforms for elevation
Clip-on holders or stands for positioning materials

✨Light Sources✨

Overhead projector
Flashlights 🔦
LED push lights or clip lights
Gooseneck desk lamps
A canvas (wall, white poster board, any surface)

✨Loose Parts & Accessories✨

Cut-out shapes (circles, triangles, blobs)
Plastic rings, lids, or discs
Recycled plastic pieces (from packaging)
Small mirrors
Transparent containers for stacking or building
Kitchen utencils

Children love exploring with light!

It’s not about having fancy tools—it’s about offering time, space, and freedom to explore.

You probably have many of these items already. Why not try setting up your own little light lab?

Let the wall become their canvas. Let the light tell their stories.

Projects — long thoughts ahead!

This is a topic I’ve been thinking a lot about lately. In many educational contexts, including our own, projects appear to be the main focus—almost as if everything in a child's day must revolve around a class investigation or theme. Educators are often observing with the goal of detecting an interest or making connections to an existing project.

And don’t get me wrong—projects ARE important. They allow for deep inquiry, collaboration, and exploration. They help us make visible children’s thinking, creativity, and capabilities. But that visibility is not the goal. The goal is not to prove a point or produce a product—it’s to support children in becoming who they are, in a space that honors their rhythms, relationships, and curiosities.

I’ve been to several conferences where the spotlight is placed on showcasing projects that have taken place within schools—and we’ve even given presentations about our own classroom projects! These presentations often highlight both the process and the product, and they do a beautiful job of demonstrating how capable and imaginative children are. They remind us of children’s potential to inquire, express, and construct knowledge in powerful ways.

And I recognize that we’ve also placed emphasis on projects and on the documentation panels that emerge from them. These visual stories are meaningful. They help us reflect, celebrate, and share the learning taking place.

But—but—but—there is so MUCH more happening in a child’s day that doesn’t always make it onto a documentation panel.

There are moments of quiet observation, spontaneous storytelling, helping a friend, sitting with a feeling. Learning is happening in the transitions, the pauses, and the unplanned moments. And it’s happening at home too—on a grocery store run, during a family gathering, while helping to stir a pot in the kitchen. These moments, though often invisible in our formal documentation, are deeply educational, meaningful, and formative.

Sometimes it seems like children always have a personal project in mind—an idea they’re carrying, a material they’re exploring, a relationship they’re forming. These inner threads, while less visible, are no less valuable than the collective project we, as adults, might frame for a class.

If we believe that we are shaped by our surroundings—the people we interact with, the questions we ask, the books we read, the spaces we inhabit—then we must also recognize that every interaction and experience holds potential for learning. Learning doesn’t start and stop with a project.

So I find myself asking: should the class project be the central priority of a school’s identity or planning? Or should we focus more on the whole day—on the fullness of children’s lived experiences and the many invisible threads that shape who they are becoming?

What would be made visible if we focused on the life of the day of a child?

Because in the end, it’s not just about the project or the product—it’s about the child.

And maybe, at the end of it all, our panels and stories should also include the moments of play—not just to show what was learned, but to remember what it felt like to be a child who played. Because when they grow up, that feeling may be the most lasting learning of all.

In our Materials Atelier, we explore and experiment with materials before introducing them to the children or bringing them into the classroom. It’s a space for discovery—where we investigate possibilities, test ideas, and deepen our understanding of how materials can inspire play and creativity.

See our video on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/reel/DHbBUoYOR9Q/?igsh=eTluYW5jOXI4OTdz