When I was a younger teacher, I taught in a small, independent school in Bangkok. I was coming towards the end of my time in Thailand, as we were moving back to the UK at the end of the school year. I was teaching in Year 4. Eight and nine-year-olds. And I wanted to try something with them.
I set them a project. They could create, study, build, or make anything they wished. They could use any resources the school had and go wherever they needed to go (only within the school grounds, unfortunately, as I was still responsible for supervising them all and Bangkok is not a small place). The only requirement of the project was that they needed to document the process. Again, this could be done however worked for them. I allocated a time every day for them to work on their project. I wasn't too interested in the outcome. I wanted to see how the children were thinking about their project and tackling any problems. The children were excited.
We started the project the next day. The children relocated to different places in the school. Some went to the library to research and write. Some went outside to learn how to skateboard or do gymnastics. Others stayed in the classroom and emptied the resource cupboard of art supplies. Some borrowed cameras to film and analyse what they were doing. Others made websites - blogs, really - to show what they were up to. Some wrote and drew their project on paper.
I didn’t mention in the brief that it had to be independent or in groups. Some children chose to work collaboratively. That was what they felt comfortable doing.
I would move around the school to check in on the children. To be around if they needed support. But, after a couple of days, I had a pretty good idea of where I could find each student. On the whole, apart from general chatting as they worked, nobody really needed me for anything. So I kept out of their way.
One day, the headteacher came to see me. “I found a group of your children working in the library. They were so quiet and engrossed in their learning. What topic are you doing?”
“We are not,” I replied. “They are working on some independent projects.”
There’s a growing body of research into the benefits of self-directed learning, particularly when learners have autonomy, purpose, and agency. Malcolm Knowles’s work on self-directed learning, originally developed for adult learners, has been increasingly applied to children - especially in schools that value inquiry and independence. These students weren’t just “doing what they liked.” They were engaging deeply in cognitive processes like planning, researching, problem-solving, and reflection. All essential components of executive function.
Those of us lucky enough to have the time and privilege to pursue hobbies of our choosing know the deep learning that occurs: the joy, the calmness, the happiness that autonomy can spark. Deci and Ryan's Self-Determination Theory supports this: autonomy, competence, and connection are psychological nutrients for motivation and wellbeing. Children are no different. In fact, they may be even more responsive to environments where these three needs are met.
It’s hard to know exactly what knowledge or skills these children were learning from their projects. But, if I’m honest, those things are quite low in the league table of what matters most in education. There were other things going on with these projects, things that will be far more useful in adulthood: independence, collaboration, self-regulation, executive function, and even just finding and evaluating information independently.
This kind of learning is much harder to control, measure, or fit into spreadsheets. So it’s rarer in schools. But that doesn’t make it less meaningful.
One girl, who often struggled with the traditional ways of school, excelled at this project. She spent every moment in the dance and gymnastics room, choreographing her own routine. This wasn’t just performance. It involved researching different jumps, turns, and leaps. She watched gymnasts for inspiration, filmed her routine to analyse and refine later, drew diagrams of her positions, and wrote instructional notes. In this moment, she was engaged in experiential learning. Something John Dewey described as essential for meaningful education. She was thinking about her thinking; metacognition in action.
Traditional academic formats weren’t meeting her where she was. But when offered multiple means of engagement and expression, she thrived. This is Universal Design for Learning. It gives every student choice in the why?, what?, and how? of learning. Choices in how they participate, what they use to learn, and how they present what they wish to present. It comes from the architectural concept of universal design, where spaces are built to be usable by everyone, from the start. No single approach to anything works best for everyone. There are too many variables at play. If children have a choice, they can find what works best for them.
I try to keep messages and notes I get from the children I’m lucky enough to teach, and from the parents who entrust me with them. I stick them in a scrapbook to remind me what is possible. This is what that girl’s father sent me at the end of the year:
“I have noticed that she was speaking very differently about her teacher. With a level of respect that I'd not heard her speak before. I then noticed many remarkable changes in her throughout the year. She has become a lot calmer in her demeanour. She has become a lot better at listening and she seems more open to new ideas than she had been in the past.
Maybe I am attributing too much of this to your efforts, but I don't think so. Of course, it's natural for kids to mature quite quickly, but the change in behaviour in her has been so remarkable that I've had cause to dig a little deeper, to query her on the changes. My conclusion is that you've been a great teacher. You've not only succeeded in delivering the core curriculum to a high degree of success, but you have also had a significant impact on a young girl's view of the world, so thanks very much.”
There’s truth in this. Children often develop in leaps when their brains and environments are ready. Maybe it was maturation. Maybe it was being listened to. Maybe it was the right kind of challenge at the right time.
Children will listen if you listen to them.
They will be open to new ideas if you let them.
Comments
Post a Comment