Children are not empty vessels to be filled but rich, strong, protagonists of their own learning.
In 2011 I packed three suitcases and moved from Los Angeles to New York. I was 21 years old, leaving home for the first time, moving across the country on my own. I had a teaching internship at Blue School (2007-2023), a groundbreaking elementary school in Manhattan founded by the original three members of the Blue Man Group and their spouses. I arrived at the school just before Thanksgiving, in time for a day-long Reggio Emilia conference the school was hosting at the Astor Place Theater – home of the Blue Man Group.
This was my first introduction to Reggio Emilia, an approach to education that will forever shape how I view early years education and, importantly, how I parent.
The Reggio Emilia approach was born from the ashes of post-World War II Italy, created by visionary educator Loris Malaguzzi alongside his parents, who were desperate for a new kind of education for their children. At its heart lies an idea that should not be considered as radical as it still is: children are inherently capable beings. It proposes that children express themselves and make meaning of the world through a hundred different languages.
In Reggio classrooms, children pursue their curiosities while teachers document, observe, and support rather than direct. The classroom itself becomes the “third teacher,” thoughtfully designed to spark wonder and investigation. It is a philosophy that celebrates children exactly as they are – competent, curious, and full of potential – while honoring childhood itself as sacred ground worth protecting.
My internship at Blue School was an immersive course in just how jaw-droppingly incredible the Reggio approach is. I had never seen anything like it – everything at child height. Everything accessible for children. On my first day I walked into a classroom for the “two’s” programme to find a giant sheet of paper taped to the floor with autumn leaves, sticks, and dirt scattered around – my first experience of the classic Reggio “Invitation to Play.” There were light boxes, a shadow room, blocks as far as the eye could see.
That semester the children became fascinated by construction taking place in the street outside our window, so we explored numeracy and literacy by building construction sites in the classroom. It was a playground for exploration that was all child-led, all adult-supported, and all mind-blowing to a 21-year-old early learning fanatic.
Observe and listen to children because when they ask “why?” they are not simply asking for the answer from you. They are requesting the courage to find a collection of possible answers.
It has been a dream of mine ever since to visit Reggio Emilia in Italy, to attend one of their famous conferences, and, crucially, to meet Carla Rinaldi – lifelong pedagogista, the former President of Reggio Children, and later honorary President.
Last month, Carla Rinaldi passed away and the world of progressive education lost a bright, guiding light, but her impact and legacy will live on forever.
Carla Rinaldi was a visionary educator. For more than four decades in education, she was a steadfast champion of educational philosophies that honour children’s dignity, foster personal accountability, nurture community connections, and preserve the sanctity of childhood itself.
Her educational vision placed children at the heart of the learning process, allowing their natural curiosities and interests to guide educational journeys within carefully curated environments that encourage exploration, experimentation, and discovery-based learning. It is almost impossible to imagine just how many children have benefited from the ripple effect of her wisdom and care.
My dream to meet Carla Rinaldi has come to an end, but my dedication to continue advocating for the importance of child-led learning and putting children back at the heart of childhood is ever stronger.
Whether we are parents, educators, or any other adult making our way through the world – may we all be a little more Carla Rinaldi in how we interact with children.
