The Power of Loose Parts

What is a “loose part”?

Loose parts are essentially materials that can be moved around and manipulated in many ways, and which don’t necessarily have a single assigned “job” or use.

Why should we play with them?

In the 1970s, the Theory of Loose Parts was developed by architect Simon Nicholson in response to what he saw as a lack of opportunity for children (and adults outside the realms of architecture) to play around with concepts of building and construction in their daily lives. The principle of the theory is as follows:

“In any environment, both the degree of inventiveness and creativity, and the possibility of discovery, are directly proportional to the number and kind of variables in it.”[1]

In other words, when people interact in a given space, the more options they are offered, and the more the available options can be combined and recombined, the more interesting and diverse the results. The repercussions of this idea for the early childhood classroom are clear – when we offer children more materials that are unscripted, hold multiple possibilities, and can be put together and taken apart in numerous ways we see more creativity, engagement, and discovery on the part of students (and I would argue on the part of the teachers and parents as well!). And these benefits are not limited to the realm of building and spatial thinking, but can extend far beyond, into the realms of dramatic play, artistic expression, literacy , and mathematical thinking… to name a few.

Below are just a few instances of children at work with loose parts in our center. Where do you see inventiveness and creativity at work through these materials?

Tubes of varying sizes inspire Alec and Grace to investigate stacking them and trying to fit them inside each other. Grace tried to cover one long tube with several smaller ones, while Alec tried to see if he could nest two tubes of the same size. 

Atom discovers that these small plastic containers stack one on top of the other very nicely. He builds a tower, taller, taller, taller, until it begins to wobble. When it falls down - crash! - he picks up the pieces and begins to build again. 

J and F investigate the structural integrity of this "house" made of carpet squares. It was able to hold several heavy blocks for its "roof" before it finally collapsed. 

Julius and Quinn examine a tube stuffed with mylar together. The mylar is crinkly, sparkly, and noisy, and the tube is tricky for small hands to manipulate. It rolls and tips as they try to angle it just so, searching for the best way to look in and pull out the mylar. 

Leon and Cathy found some pieces of sheer fabric in the movement studio while they watched a projection of some Riverdance performers. They used the fabric as costumes, as something to hide behind, and, finally, as something to hold behind their backs, the same way some of the dancers held their hands behind their backs. 

Jihye and Emmett discovered a wooden place-mat and a piece of bumpy, translucent plastic in the Studio. Looking through them, they noticed that their view of the world changed! The other children in the Studio also noticed that it changed the way Jihye and Emmett looked, making it hard to see all of Jihye's face, and making Emmett look "foggy." 




[1]Nicholson, S (1972). The Theory of Loose Parts: An important principle for design methodology. Studies in Design EducationCraft & Technology 4, (2), 6. 

Starting off the Studio: Ruminations and a Paper Investigation

How will we use the Studio? 
Which material will we use to begin our Studio journey?

These questions are constantly on my mind, not only at the beginning of each school year, but during all the months that follow. Each year, the use of the Studio shifts a bit as we try to navigate the ideals we hold as a Reggio-inspired center and the realities of serving 90 children, infants through preschoolers, spread throughout three separate buildings. Now that we are settling comfortably into the routines of the year, I want to take some time to reflect on the questions that have driven these shifts, to share some thoughts about what I do and why, and to tell a little about the subject of our first Studio adventure - paper.

How will we use the Studio?

Right now, children's visits to the Studio are primarily centered around getting to know a few key materials one at a time, building a repertoire of expertise that will serve them throughout the year. A few groups have also started visiting together to explore particular themes of interest, such as ramps and balls, music and movement, and building train tracks. This really points to the fluid and flexible nature of the Studio - it is an art room, a laboratory, a meeting room, a dance floor, a recording studio... and the list goes on. However, throughout all of these pieces, it is a place for focused work of one form or another. This focus may come from the side of the materials ("We're going to explore wire today! How can we change this piece of wire?") or it may come from the side of ideas ("Today is about building our animal sculptures together! What parts do we need? What materials should we use?") - but in either case, the focus is there.

This is a practice that has taken me several years to develop, and it is something I am still working on. When I first took on the job of atelierista, this element of focus was already partly in place, but there was also a sense of "free play" - of doing whatever you wanted with any of the materials. At first I went along with this, knowing that this is how things had been done, but I felt that there was something missing - something that I believed was at the heart of the Studio. I saw a lot of children using materials for the sake of having them - gluing piles of beads and glitter to paper or wrapping sticks with a mile of tape simply for the sake of taking them home to their mommies and daddies. There is nothing wrong with this, of course, but, as my fellow atelierista, Anna Golden from Sabot at Stony Point, writes, "... that's not what studio thinking is all about."

So what is studio thinking about? It can be stated as a framework, a set of eight habits of mind, such as "envisioning," "developing craft," and "engaging and persisting."  For me, it is about learning about materials in order to use them to create the things you want to create and to follow through on your ideas with success. It is also about developing a practice of using materials intentionally and respectfully. It is about recognizing that every material has potential that is worth exploring. These are the ideas that I strive to embody through our use of the Studio, whether the children who are using this space are 5 months or 5 years.

Which material will we use to begin our Studio journey?

In the same blog post, Anna asks three important questions regarding materials for a Studio:

How do children use materials? 

Which materials serve children, considering Gardner's multiple intelligences?

Which ones have most potential for creative thinking?

The Studio is home to a variety of materials - paint, clay, glue, yarn, cardboard, tape, fabric, markers, wire, wood, and more. I feel that all of these can be used in multiple ways, can serve as outlets for sensory experiences as well as expression, and have a lot of potential for creative thinking and problem solving. The question is, where should we begin this year's journey in developing the "studio thinking" already mentioned?

This year, I chose paper as our starting place.

Paper is a material with a huge amount of potential. It is extremely malleable, yet it also has structural integrity - it can hold the shape into which it is twisted or folded. It comes in a variety of colors, weights, sizes, and textures. It is also very accessible - it is my go-to material for infants at the start of the year. A fellow teacher, Lise White, and I once followed an extensive investigation of young toddlers and paper. As one of the proverbial hundred languages for creative expression, paper is one with a wide and fascinating vocabulary.

Paper also offers a challenge. It is a material that we often use as a surface only - a place to draw and write. We don't often use it on its own, for its own unique properties. In offering paper to children, I was beginning the year by asking them to look at things - this material specifically - in a new way.

In order to really get at this idea of learning a material's own unique vocabulary, I initially offered paper to the children entirely on its own. No drawing utensils; no scissors; no tape; no glue. Just paper. Granted, the paper itself did not take just one form. For visual simplicity, all of the paper was either white or black, but some of it was small, and some was big; some was hanging from the ceiling, while other pieces were spread on the floor or arranged on a table; some pieces were flat and untouched, while others were already wrinkled from being crumpled; the weights of the paper ranged from thick watercolor paper to very lightweight tracing paper. In order to invite children to start thinking about the many possibilities of this material, it seemed important to offer up a variety of possibilities as to what this material could look and feel like to begin with. 

At first, many children asked, "Where are the markers? We need scissors!" Even some very young toddlers entered with the question, "Markers? Draw?" The challenge I had foreseen was clearly there - these children were used to acting on paper in a two-dimensional way. I was interested in seeing what they could do when they started to think more three-dimensionally. I gave them one question as further provocation: "How can we change this paper using just our hands and bodies?" Here are just a few answers from children across the center ...

Sam shook and waved the paper, sometimes wrapping it around his body into a big "mountain." 

Phineas, Harriet, and Alisa used a big piece as a house. "Come through the door in the front, not the back."  

Morgan ripped the paper into smaller and smaller pieces. She found that if she pulled it in one direction, it ripped easily, but if she pulled it in the other, she couldn't rip it at all.

Raphael scrunched different papers next to his ear. "This one sounds different. This one sounds soft. This one sounds loud."

Alvida and Lundy pulled down the paper from the ceiling. "Reach up," Alvida said, encouraging Lundy to help her try to pull down the pieces that remained. 

Justin ripped a piece of paper into small scraps. Arranging theses careful, he announced, "This is my control station. These are the controls." Each piece of paper became a button or a lever. 

"You can make shadows on it," Jone said of a big piece of paper lying on the floor.

E. folded the paper as she explored the different textures of its two sides.

Through this experience, the children learned a great deal about the properties of the different papers. For instance, some were easy to rip, while others were nearly impossible. The diaper table paper was flexible enough to  tie together, while the cardstock and watercolor paper could actually stand on their own if they were folded the right way.

I love that the Studio can be used as a place to not only build on children's interests, but to challenge them to build new skills and try on new perspectives. By investigating paper on its own, in this focused environment, children across our center discovered so many more uses for it than merely drawing or painting on it - they began to appreciate it as a unique material in its own right.

Do you see "Studio thinking" at work elsewhere in our center? 

What memories do you have of being introduced to art materials - of getting to know these "languages" ?

Sand & Glue: A Work "on" Process

When a group of children from Toddler 2 North arrived in the studio, to continue the work with glue that we started a few weeks ago, I asked them "What can we do with glue?"

Phineas answered, "We push it out."

N. said, "We squeeze it," clenching and unclenching her hands.

E. added, "We brush it away,” describing the way we use brush-like tools to spread our glue.

  

This conversation set the tone for my thinking that morning. I found myself paying special attention to children's interest and mastery over the processes of using the provocation's materials (glue bottles, glue spreaders, shakers of colored sand, and flat, wooden tiles set in trays). 

When Phineas first picked up his spreader, he said, echoing E.'s earlier idea, "I'm going to spread it away," moving the tool across the mound of sand and glue piled on his tile. 

N. actually squeezed glue straight onto the spreader, then sprinkled sand on top, then spread the materials onto her tile. She was not interested in shaking the extra sand off of her tile at all.

K. built up layers of sand upon glue upon sand, stopping now and then to shake off the extra sand.  

When children emptied their shakers of sand, they were offered spoons for scooping the sand. E. used his spoon both to refill his shaker and to transfer sand directly onto the glue. Phineas figured out how to remove and return the lid of the shaker without help. He also noticed the glue and sand sticking to his tile. He began to find a rhythm: take off the lid, add some sand, put on the lid, shake some sand, "dump it out and see it stick." 

Watching all of this, I had a habitual thought, a kind of a early childhood proverb: "It's about the process, not the product." Early childhood educators emphasize that children's early work with materials is about exploration, and the tangible work produced is simply a byproduct of that time, not a piece of art to celebrate as it is for most older artists. This idea is nothing new to me; however, the work I saw today forced me to reconsider the word "process.” Usually “process” seems to me to mean something ethereal, fluid, abstract, the opposite of the solidity of a product. “It’s about the moment, not about the artwork,” you might say. However, “process” can also be concrete, something created or collaborated upon. It can be a set of steps needed to accomplish a task, to make something work, or to solve a problem.

These steps intrigued the children. They explored the ones we described when we came together (add glue, add sand, then shake off), and then recombined the different tools and materials to determine new processes with potentially different outcomes. True to the cliché, they were less invested in the product of their work – N. was not even interested in finding out what her glue looked like under all that sand – but their participation in the process moved beyond said cliché into something more.

Sometimes an idea becomes so familiar that we forget to take time to examine what it really means. Watching these children work with these materials, I was reminded to review my own understanding of what "process" means and why we stress its importance in the investigative and creative work of children.

Our center's teacher provocations for the past month have all been focused on how to stay curious - curious about the families we work with, about our teammates, and about our environments. This visit from Toddler 2 North seems to suggest a fourth possible topic - staying curious about the language and concepts that inform our teaching. Part of our work as reflective teachers is to think about what we witness in our classrooms, what it means, and why it strikes us as important; another part is to consider ourselves within the greater nexus of the work we do - the principles that inform our thinking.

I found myself reconsidering my understanding of a precious axiom with greater care thanks to how it was beautifully illustrated by Phineas and his friends as they worked. I am grateful to be reminded that the words we try to live by still deserve a second or third look in light of our observations, and lived experience.

Which parts of your everyday life are “about the process” and which about “the product”?

What are the axioms or principles that you live by that have had deeper meaning by considering them in light of your own lived experience? How did you become curious about them?

Talking and Joining In: Tips for Infant Parents

How should I act when I join my infant in the Studio? 

How can I be a part of their exploration without disrupting their investigation? 

Here is our Center’s culture around

talking about children’s work and taking part in the activity

in a child-centered way.

Talking about children’s work

Each and every material offers an infant so many new sensations to explore! Sometimes this can feel overwhelming – perhaps the newness is unsettling or maybe the material’s texture is unexpected and startling. Our best tool for understanding what they think about the medium in front of them is observation. Take a moment to watch the way your child is using the material. Is he interested in the feeling of it? The sound it makes? The different ways he can manipulate it? After your child has had time to work on their own, offer some observations about what you notice, and suggest some possibilities for furthering their interest.

“You really like to shake these materials with big movements!”

“I notice you really like to bring the paper to your mouth. Would you like to try this thick, heavy paper so you can mouth it longer?”

“That was so surprising to me when that happened! What do you think about that?”

Joining in the activity

Art materials can be so enticing, you just want to play  with them, too! The trick is, how can you join in alongside your child without the focus shifting to what you are doing rather than what they are doing? Babies need time and space to test out these materials for themselves, so sit back and allow them to get comfortable before offering anything new.

Take a moment to look at the children’s work. How is your child using the material? Is he feeling it with his hands? With his feet? Try interacting with it in the same way that he is.

After your child has had time to interact with the materials as they are, enact some simple changes on one of the things at hand. Crumple a piece of paper up, or twist it like a rope. What will your child make of this transformation?

If you notice some other materials that you think your child might enjoy, move them closer. Does your child reach for them? Do they hold his interest? Is he more interested in what he already has?


Similar posts are available for parents of toddlers and preschoolers. 

Talking and Joining In: Tips for Toddler Parents

How should I act when I join my toddler in the Studio? 

How can I be a part of their exploration without disrupting their investigation? 

Here is our Center’s culture around

talking about children’s work and taking part in the activity

in a child-centered way.

Talking about children’s work

For many toddlers, the material is an experience – an opportunity to feel and move and try new things. While older toddlers with more words might begin to describe what they are doing or even what they are drawing, wait for them to identify their work rather than assuming it might be representational. Questions like “What is that?” sometimes make children feel as though their artwork has to be something.  Take a moment to watch the way your child is using the material. Is she interested in the feeling of it? The movement of it? The tools she has? Ask some questions or offer some observations about what you notice.

“How do you use this tool? What is this for?”

“What does it feel like on your fingers?”

“I’m so curious about that! Can you tell/show me more?”

Joining in the activity

Art materials can be so enticing, you just want to play  with them, too! The trick is, how can you join in alongside your child without the focus shifting to what you are doing rather than what they are doing?  So much of a toddler’s work is about their ever increasing independence, so give them room to test and try with minimal direction.

Take a moment to look at the children’s work. How is your child using the material? Is she feeling it with her hands or using a tool? Try interacting with it in the same way that she is.

If a child asks you to paint something for them, encourage them to try, or, if they aren’t yet doing representational work, talk with them about the lines, shapes, or textures of what they are thinking of.

If they hand you a brush or tool, make sure they have one, too. Try painting together on the same surface using the same strokes.

Similar posts are available for parents of infants and preschoolers.

Talking and Joining In: Tips for Preschool Parents

How should I act when I join my preschooler in the Studio? 

How can I be a part of their exploration without disrupting their investigation? 

Here is our Center’s culture around

talking about children’s work and taking part in the activity

in a child-centered way.

Talking about children’s work

It can be tempting to ask, “What is it?” However, the “what” is often less important than the “how.” Chances are, if a child is working on something representational, she will tell you about it even if you use open-ended questions. A great way to understand a bit more about what the child is thinking is to spend some time watching them work, identifying aspects of their process or painting that you find particularly interesting, and following with observations and questions like:

“How did you make so many different marks with the same paint?”

“You added a new color! What happens when it touches the others on your paper?”

“I’m so curious about that! Can you tell me more?”

Joining in the activity

Art materials can be so enticing, you just want to play  with them, too! The trick is, how can you join in alongside your child without the focus shifting to what you are doing rather than what they are doing? By turning the attention of the child to what we as adults are capable of, we intrude on their experience of the material. This can feel disempowering when their young hands can't make the perfect shape the way an adult's hand can, or when their idea becomes secondary to yours. So, instead…

Take a moment to look at the children’s work. What do you find most interesting? Ask the child whose artwork you examine, “How did you make this shape? Can you teach me?”

Notice the way the child is moving the brush, and use that as a guide for how to move yours. “I want to try swirling my brush around and around, just like you.”

If a child asks you to paint or make something for them, say, “I want to see how you would paint one. What shape do you think we need first?” 

How do you think these ideas compare to the ways in which you talk and interact with your child around art activities at home? Are there any pieces of this you might try to use? 

Similar posts are available for parents of infants and toddlers.

Some Questions (and Answers) about Project Work

This year, our center is interested in supporting project work on a new level. In light of this, it seems important to take a closer look at the term project work and what it means in the context of our practice as a Reggio Emilia-inspired childcare center. So, without further ado, here are:

Some Questions (and Answers) about Project Work

What is project work?

Project work is a long-term, in-depth investigation of a question, idea, or theme that engages a small group of children and a teacher. It can begin from any number of places and it ends with a celebration of the group’s work together. Teachers invite children who have shown interest in the subject of study or who feel like a good fit socially. From there, the project group returns again and again to their area of interest, re-investigating their questions and re-representing their theories through multiple media in order to gain new perspectives on their thinking. Parents are invited into this work through teachers’ documentation, as well as through shared conversations about the project’s progression and possibilities for parent contributions.

How does it start?

The development of project work is not set or static. Our colloquial understanding of the term "project" may include a clear beginning, middle or an end like a construction project or an art project, but we are describing something in development. We use "project" in relation to the Italian term “proggetazione.” In Reggio Emilia, children work on projects like this without a clear end in sight, with only a challenge or a question to define them. In The Hundred Languages of Children, project work is “not child-centered or teacher-directed, [but rather] child-originated and teacher-framed…. On the other hand, the curriculum could be teacher-provoked and then child-engaged” (248). We look forward to this kind of collaboration among children and teachers. As children begin to develop theories about a piece of the world around them, their teachers are alongside them, helping to identify those theories and possible ways to test and refine them. Project work may arise from a single chance encounter, or it may originate out of continual patterns of interest and behavior that are only noticed over the course of time. Teachers notice an interest in children that holds possibilities for expression, collaboration or transformation, and decide with their teaching team what might be starting place for a project.

How does a project group form?

Teachers create a group to surround the original player(s) who inspired the project work. They select children who are particularly interested or invested in this particular problem, theme, or material, those who might fulfill a particular social role in the group, or who might have particularly interesting theories or experiences to add. They – together with one collaborating teacher - become a project group.

How does it progress?

A project group will develop special times to meet all together to talk about and work on their shared investigation. The teacher will communicate clearly to children about these special times, why they are meeting, and what they are going to think about on that particular day. These times might be spent in the Studio, taking time to represent and re-represent children’s ideas through the languages of multiple media; on a walk to visit a place that is tied to their investigation; in a specially designated part of their classroom for a group conversation to generate ideas; or in other ways.

Although the project group is made up of a particular set of individuals, it does not exist in a vacuum. The teacher brings observations of the group to the members of her or his team in order to parse out what the children’s focus point is, what theories they have developed, and what questions they are asking. Together, the team of teachers thinks about how to further challenge children’s thinking, providing them with a new perspective or lens on their work. The teacher will also invite the parents of the children involved to think about the project’s progression, offering them an opportunity to contribute to the project. Teachers use documentation as another means of communicating what has been happening to their fellow teachers, to families, and to other children in the classroom. In addition, the children of a project group might share their work with the rest of their peers at moments when they need fresh perspectives, more information, or an additional audience to appreciate their hard work.

How does it end?

Projects do not necessarily have an end goal when they are first conceived. Often a shared goal is developed over the course of much work and thinking together. When a shared goal is reached, this can often signify the end of the project, and the group takes this opportunity to celebrate their hard work together in a meaningful way. This idea of celebration would also be part of a project that does not necessarily have a final product, but finds its end through the solving of a problem or a general feeling shared by the children and teacher. Such celebrations pay homage to the work and commitment of the group, recognizing the journey they have taken together.

Why try it?

As Ann Pelo writes in “Try It Out and Test It”: Children as Researchers, “We wanted to strengthen in the children the dispositions to linger with questions, to take new perspectives, to collaborate, to stick with an undertaking even when their assumptions are challenged – the dispositions of researchers.” What better way to honor the children in our care than to provide them with opportunities to develop such powerful dispositions?   

 Pelo, A. (2009). "Try it out and test it": children as researchers. Research Exchange, September/October, 51-55.

Building Habits of Mind

“We’re real artists.”

The Studio can be many things to many people. For Preschool 2, it became a place to explore and practice painting. We started out with watercolors, which allowed us to practice washing our brushes between colors and mixing colors together in the empty spaces on our palettes. Some children continued with watercolors for many sessions, experimenting with what it looked like to draw with sharpies before adding color. Other children explored acrylic and tempera paints, while still others tried out oil pastels alone and in combination with watercolors.

After so much time to experiment, practice, and refine their skills, these children were coming to understand the principles of these media just as artists do. With this in mind, we, the teachers, decided to offer up a provocation around the idea of taking time on a painting or drawing, the way artists do. In the end, all of the children spent at least two Studio visits working on their piece, and many requested a third time to finish. At the beginning of our second session with our paintings and drawings, we held group critiques. Children had a chance to share what they liked about each other’s paintings, ask questions about them, and provide their peers with suggestions about how to make their paintings even more beautiful (which the artist could choose to incorporate if they wished). Here are a few examples of the final, finished work of the children, alongside the words of their peers from the critique session. 

IAN’S PAINTING: My House and Family with a Rainy Sky

Ariv: I like the house. I like the roof, because it’s a different kind of shape.

R: I like the Christmas tree, even though it is blue, not green.

M: I like the people, because it reminds me of my family.

R: Why did you paint the sun blue?

Ian: Because it’s beautiful and someone can see that.

Ariv: Why is the Christmas tree blue?

Ian: I saw a Christmas tree outside and is blue. I have in my house.

Ariv: He should work on the clouds. [They were just black at the time.]

R: And add some umbrellas for the rain.

GAIA’S PAINTING: A Swirl and a Person

J: I like the snake… it’s like a sleeping snake.

Gaia: It’s not a snake, it’s a road.

Nina: I think I like the girl, because Gaia painted the inside and not the outside.

Katie: I wonder what you will add to your painting now.

Gaia: I will add more colors.

NINA’S PAINTING: Houses and a Castle along a Road with a Story about a Princess who Lived There

Gaia: I like the flowers. I like that she did two of these same.

[B. and J. point to the flowers, too.]

J: I think you could paint that sun.

ARIV’S PAINTING: A Truck, a Rocketship, a Stop Sign

R: I like the stop sign and the yellow in between.

M: I like the green part, because my mom likes green.

R: What is the yellow?

Ariv: That’s to keep the wheels together.

R: Why is it not attached to the truck?

Ariv: It’s magic and the car is using it.

R: Why are there little thingies inside the wheels?

Ariv: Those are telephones.

R: Spikey ones?

Ariv: Those are… they keep strangers from coming in.

Katie: I wonder if you are going to add something new.

R: Like people.

Ariv: No. I might make the hands very long on accident.

R: Just remind yourself you need short hands.

Sometimes, the Studio is about learning a new technique or discovering a new material. Sometimes it is about exploring a particular theme or idea. I also see it as a place for children to expand their ways of thinking about the world and about their place in it. It is a place where we are given uninterrupted time to investigate something very closely, and so it is also a place where we can practice and hone our skills as investigators. To me, this indicates the refining of “habits of mind,” which are defined by Arthur Costa as “a disposition toward behaving intelligently when confronted with problems, the answers to which are not immediately known… It suggests that as a result of each experience in which these behaviors were employed, the effects of their use are reflected upon, evaluated, modified and carried forth to future applications.”

In the instance of the Preschool Two painting and pastel exploration, we began by building our understanding of the materials themselves – acquiring a set of particular “tools” that could be drawn upon and referenced in future. We then moved towards the practice of planning out our work – thinking about what we wanted to represent before we began and what elements were important to include. We then began to develop an understanding of our artistic creation of an extended, ongoing process that could draw inspiration from all around us. Our paintings were not simply the result of sitting down to paper and paint or pastel, they were the product of hard work, of thought and inquiry, of evaluation and re-evaluation, of our own ideas as well as the ideas of others. Children developed new means of extending their work, and they began to look at it in a more reflective way. If a child reached a point where they felt “done” working, rather than moving their piece straight to the drying rack, they took some time to walk around, looking to the work of their peers and the beauty in their environment for inspiration. During critiques, children listened respectfully to the comments and questions of their peers, and they felt able to incorporate the suggestions they were given as they saw fit. In turn, the children offering their opinions on another’s work seemed to be really thinking about the artwork before them.

“We’re real artists,” B. said during his second session with his painting. I do feel that this process of returning to and re-examining our work with care has helped to foster many of the habits of mind employed by artists, but I also believe that these practices will be useful to the children in many future instances where “the answers are not immediately known.” I believe that one of the miracles of art – in its viewing or its making – is its ability to inspire us to look more carefully and with deeper intention at the world around us, and I felt that these young artists were experiencing this alongside me during our visits together.

What habits of mind do you feel the children were employing through this experience?

What habits of mind do you feel are most helpful or important to you in your life?

                                                                 

Reference: Costa, A. & Kallick, B. Describing 16 Habits of Mind. Retrieved from http://www.instituteforhabitsofmind.com/resources/pdf/16HOM.pdf