When learning gets messy: The power of productive struggle in early elementary

The Compass School is a research-driven school in Austin that grounds its educational approach in neuroscience, psychology, and education research. Anna Yakabe, a founding member and Director of Learning, shares insights from their Innovation Lab, where young learners develop the perseverance and problem-solving skills needed to create meaningful change.

In Hidden Potential: The Science of Achieving Greater Things, Adam Grant reminds us that the real magic of learning comes from the struggle.

Grant describes learning as a journey shaped by how we respond to challenges. When children wrestle with something new, they're strengthening the neural pathways in their brains that lead to long-term understanding and resilience. Each mistake, frustration, or I-don't-get-it-yet moment is an invitation to stretch the mind and build perseverance.

This concept of productive struggle has deep roots in education research. J. Hiebert and Douglas A. Grouws introduced the term in 2007, though it wasn't until H. K. Warshauer's 2011 paper that it gained widespread recognition within mathematics education. The concept draws on several foundational frameworks, including Bjork's theory of Desirable Difficulties and Vygotsky's Zone of Proximal Development. These frameworks share a common insight: learning happens most powerfully in a particular space. When tasks are too easy, students experience boredom and minimal growth. When tasks are too difficult, students experience frustration and disengage. Productive struggle exists precisely in that sweet spot where the challenge is significant enough to require effort and creative thinking, but not so overwhelming that it becomes counterproductive.

While Warshauer's work focused on mathematical thinking, the principles of productive struggle apply across disciplines. The question that matters most to educators and parents is: What does this actually look like in a classroom with six- and seven-year-olds?

From Theory to Towers: Design Thinking in Action

Recently, our young learners faced a challenge in our Innovation Lab that brought these research insights to life. The task: design a structure out of different size plastic cups for a LEGO person that stands at least 39 inches tall and can withstand a wind gust from a fan.

After a quick prototype and testing, students found that the fan caused structures to collapse instantaneously. One student captured the moment perfectly: "There needs to be weight to give it stability." This observation marked the beginning of their productive struggle.

The Messy Middle: Where Real Learning Happens

What unfolded over the next three days wasn't a neat path from problem to solution. It was iterative, frustrating, and essential to deep learning.

Students brainstormed: How can we add weight? They tried tape, hoping adhesive strength would compensate for structural weakness. They experimented with stacking cups of various sizes and materials, testing whether diversity in their building blocks would create stability. They placed LEGOs at the base, reasoning that a heavy foundation might anchor the entire tower.

Each attempt taught them something. Each failure led them to a revised design. This is the design-thinking protocol in its most authentic form—not a worksheet about problem-solving, but the actual experience of wrestling with a real challenge that has no predetermined answer. Students moved through cycles of defining the problem, generating ideas, prototyping solutions, and testing their effectiveness.

The breakthrough came from an unexpected place. What if the weight didn't need to be at the bottom? What if it could wrap around the structure like a sleeve? Students created a square LEGO structure that slid over the third cup from the bottom, adding stability exactly where the tower needed it most.

When the fan finally turned on and the towers stood firm, the celebration wasn't just about success. It was about the journey they'd taken to get there.

The Role of the Educator in Productive Struggle

During the cup tower challenge, no adult handed students the answer. No one told them where to place the LEGO sleeve or which cup would provide the best anchor point. Instead, educators asked questions: What happened when you tried that? What might you do differently? What are you noticing about the structures that are more stable?

The role of the educator is not to eliminate struggle, but to make it productive. Educators provide scaffolding through questioning rather than direct instruction, supporting students' thinking without removing the challenge that makes learning meaningful.

Why Productive Struggle Matters More Than Ever

Progressive education has long understood what neuroscience now confirms: Children learn best when adults support them through obstacles.

The research is clear. When students engage in productive struggle, they develop a growth mindset. They begin to see difficulty not as a stop sign but as a signpost pointing toward growth. They build executive function skills like planning, flexibility, and self-monitoring. Most importantly, they develop the courage to try, fail, and try again.

According to neuroscience research, when students work through challenging problems, they are building and strengthening neural connections. The effort required creates deeper, more durable learning than passive reception of information. This aligns with Grant's emphasis that achievement isn't about having the most natural ability but about developing the character skills that help us unlock our potential. Those skills—perseverance, adaptability, creative problem-solving—are built one productive struggle at a time.

Building Courageous Learners

When we give young children the space to struggle productively, we're not just teaching them about engineering or physics. We're teaching them about themselves. We're showing them that they are capable of facing uncertainty, of persevering through frustration, of collaborating to solve problems that no single person could tackle alone.

The next time you see a child wrestling with something difficult, resist the urge to jump in with the answer. Instead, lean into the discomfort. Ask a question. Express curiosity about their thinking. That struggle is not a problem to be solved. It's the very place where learning comes alive.

—Anna Yakabe | The Compass School

The mechanics of cultivating growth mindset

Srinivas Jallepalli is the author of Education Empowered: A Holistic Blueprint for Building Better Schools and a Better World. He also founded Sankalpa Academy, a growth-mindset school created to offer gifted-level education to all children, and cofounded the Higher Orbit Foundation, a nonprofit that promotes educational equity. We asked him to share some thoughts on “growth mindset” based on his extensive research for the book.

If you stand on a street at dawn, you can feel the city waking up and everything feels possible. Childhood is like that. It isn’t one long day; it’s a series of early mornings—“windows”—when the brain is unusually ready to wire new beliefs and habits that can last a lifetime. The most powerful of those beliefs may be: I can accomplish anything.

For their landmark study of language acquisition in the early years, Betty Hart and Todd Risley sat on many living-room floors and watched and listened. Their observations revealed something so basic that it might be easy to overlook: a stark difference in how much and how richly adults from different backgrounds talked with their children. The gap wasn’t just in word count—it was in conversational turns, encouragement, and the sense that a child’s voice mattered. It turns out that these early exchanges were highly correlated with vocabulary growth over the years, school readiness, and even achievement in higher grade levels. But the greatest benefit is in building identity: repeated serve-and-return talk teaches a child: My ideas are worth exploring.

Other scholars—Garcia and Otheguy, Flores and Rosas, and Faltis, for example—also point to issues with schooling that compound the challenges children from minority communities face. They argue that a cultural mismatch between families and a school system rooted in middle- and upper-class White norms is a key deterrent in the United States for these communities. Incidentally, evidence from feral and institutionalized children, Maria Montessori’s work at the Scuola Ortofrenica, and significantly higher scores for homeschooled children on the Piers-Harris Self-Concept Scale underscore the central role of enculturation, agency, and identity in human development (Education Empowered).

“Your beliefs become your thoughts. … Your values become your destiny.” This inspirational quote, traditionally attributed to Gandhi, sums it up well. This idea isn’t a cliché, it isn’t hyperbole. It’s neurological wiring in action. In the language of Education Empowered, subconscious programming happens when a message is repeated with emotion and social proof. If a child repeatedly hears, “You’re not a math person,” that phrase gets stored under truth and will silently steer choices for years. If a child repeatedly experiences “When I try strategies, I learn,” that becomes the stored program. The window isn’t just age; it’s recency and frequency—the density of messages during sensitive periods.

Education Empowered uses the story of Hermione and the House Elves in the Harry Potter series to make a crucial point: the chains that bind are often the scripts we don’t realize we’re reading from. The elves aren’t weak; they are programmed—by the world’s expectations and their own rehearsed self-talk. Hermione doesn’t just free the elves; she invites them to imagine new roles and practice them until they feel natural. This is precisely how growth mindset works in children.

How can we benefit from this understanding? The Department of Public Health in Georgia took the lessons from Hart and Risley’s work and acted. Their innovation was disarmingly practical: using the WIC program—where nearly every infant and caregiver already shows up—to coach parents on language enrichment and parent-child interaction. No new app. No new building. Just reimagining diaper changes, bath time, and grocery trips as micro-seminars in brain building. Coaches help caregivers narrate what they see, ask open questions, wait for the baby’s response, and mirror it back. Because it’s anchored in real routines, the coaching sticks. It’s not “homework”; it becomes home. And when caregivers change the soundtrack of daily life, children internalize a different story about themselves: I am a participant, not a passenger. This narrative offers an excellent start. If parents and schools then follow up with reading materials that are enriching, engaging, nuanced, and inspiring, we are well on our way to wiring confidence, high expectations, grit, and courage into our children.

The following four windows of opportunity for fostering growth mindset make the process relatively concrete.

1. Birth to 3: Wire confidence through identity.
   This is the Hart & Risley era. Babies aren’t keeping score of correct answers; they’re counting turns. Narrate (“I’m zipping your jacket—up, up, up”), name feelings, and practice wait-time. Celebrate effort (“You kept trying that sound!”). Every serve-and-return is micro-proof that initiative matters and the child’s ideas matter.

2. Ages 4–7: Script values and inspiration through play.
   Children try on roles the way actors try costumes, and it helps to minimize cultural misalignment. Offer challenges with visible feedback: puzzles with multiple strategies, invented spelling that improves every week, stories with values that inspire. Label process not person: “You tried two ways,” “You asked for a hint.” These phrases write the growth script line by line.

3. Ages 8–12: Make struggle normal and strategic.
   Teach the practices behind progress: spacing, retrieval, worked examples, and reflection. Allow them to confront options, multiple choices, irony, hypocrisy, and strategy. Invite students to annotate their setbacks: What did I try? What will I try next? Turn “wrong” into data. When adults model revisions in their own work, children learn that improvement is a professional skill, not a personal rescue. Mindset dies when schedules deny second tries.

4. Adolescence: Align belief with purpose.
   Teens will work incredibly hard for something that matters to them. Enable them to experience agency repeatedly. Link growth to contribution: tutoring a younger student, building a community resource, or pursuing a project that solves a real problem. Help them experience freedom as an opportunity to make a difference.

Hart & Risley showed that early talk forecasts later outcomes, but the deeper lesson is agency: children who are invited into conversation learn that their efforts can move the world. Georgia’s WIC-based coaching proves the solution can be elegant and equitable—bringing brain-building into places families already trust, for example. Education Empowered adds the blueprint: expose the invisible scripts, replace them with rehearsed, purposeful roles, and let children practice freedom with guidance. When we stack these pieces, we don’t just close “gaps”; we open windows—again and again—until a growth mindset is not a slogan but a lived, daily rhythm.

The dawn is already here. Our job is to step out and build a new world.

Srinivas Jallepalli | Education Empowered

“Are you satisfied?”: Learning through repeat experience

If you’re interested in the Reggio Emilia approach to early childhood education, there’s no better expert to learn from than Marie Catrett of Tigerlily Preschool in South Austin. We’re pleased once again to publish a lovely photo essay in which Marie shows and tells how she artfully helps a young learner gain skill and deeper understanding through repetition of a chosen activity.

At Tigerlily children choose how they spend their time. We’re interested in what the children are interested in and look for opportunities to think more deeply together about their work. 

Monday

M chooses to begin his day at the paint easel and is set up with red, blue, yellow, black, and white paint on a big tray. “See what you can make happen here,” is the invitation.

Soon M calls Marie over to show her how delighted he is with his paint water.

M: I made purple right there!
Then he asks: Marie, how do you make pink?
Marie: Hmm, do you want to experiment and see what you can figure out? Or are you asking for a recipe, about how to do it?
M considers.
M: Tell me how to do it.
Marie: Okay, I would try a splooch of white—
M dabs a big brushful of white.
Marie: And then, just a tiiiiny dab of red. See what you think of that.

M is pleased with the pink he makes.
Marie: Mixing on the tray is great because when you make a color you like, you can use the brush to put the color on the paper.
M wants another recipe and asks:  How do you make green?

M makes green.

That evening, M’s mom writes: “M’s favorite creature at the moment is called a ‘Jaquin’ from Disney’s Elena of Avalor show. I wanted to share since it’s a harder name/creature to figure out.”

Jaquin from Disney’s Elena of Avalor

Marie writes back: “This is beautiful! You’ll read more about [M] and color mixing in the documentation today. I’m printing Jaquin to have in the classroom in case that inspires more painting or other work for him. Thanks for connecting us with something he finds so special.

Tuesday

Marie shows M the image she’s printed of Jaquin.
Marie: Would you like to try and paint this? You’ve been making such wonderful colors at the paint easel.
Oh yes, M very much would and works for a long, focused time with yellow and blue.

When he declares his work is finished, he puts his painting on the drying rack. Marie notices the drips in what he’s made but does not point them out, taking her cue from his sense of satisfaction. She wonders if he will want to work more on this piece another time and makes a written note to think about the support she might offer the next time he paints, how she might offer help around the frustration of watery paint marks.

Wednesday

 Marie and M begin by looking back at yesterday’s work together.

Marie: I remember you working hard on this yesterday. What do you think? Would you want to add more to this? Does it feel finished?
It is M who points to the drips coming down from multiple points.
M: It’s not right.
Marie: Ah yes, I see those drippy places the paint made too.
She looks to him for clarification.
Marie: You don’t want those drip marks?
No, says M.

She’s been pondering the help she might offer him. He might want to enhance the existing image by adding to the paper or using a pair of scissors to cut the image out, leaving the drips behind. She’s careful to center him as the sayer of what he wants. He’s the engine making his work go, and she’s there to lend her knowledge and skills in support of his vision.

Marie: I think you have some options. If you want to work more on this painting, one idea could be to add more paint to paint over the drips. We could also get some scissors and cut out the parts you don’t want to keep and throw those drips away. Another option could be to start a new painting, and I can show you how to get less drips from your brush.

 M decides to start a new painting. He will make another Jaquin.

 Marie shows him how a wet brush can be very drippy. Wiping the brush off on the inside edge of the water container will help it be less wet.
Marie: And, if we add a sponge to your tray and you dab the wet brush on the sponge after washing it between colors, the brush will be drier too. Today you can give it a try and see what you think.
Marie: Now let’s look at the Jaquin picture again, so you can think about what else you might try when you paint a Jaquin today. Do you see a shape you’ll make to start?
M (touching the blue places along Jaquin’s sides): I will start with the spots.

After adding wings, he says his painting is finished and begins to carry it to the drying rack.
Oh! M realizes, I need to add the feet!
He returns to the easel and adds legs before carrying the paper back to the drying rack a second time.
Oh! M has another part he decides he must add!
M: Now I need to add a tail!

Adding a tail

M and the second Jaquin

M: I like it!

Thursday

M and Marie look at the paintings again. She is thrilled that he’s done repeat work and wants to highlight that.

Children build on what they know when they have the opportunity to repeat their experiences and try a new approach. When you discover something you like to do, there should be lots more time doing that good-feeling thing!

Marie: I know you liked the second Jaquin better, and I can see how much you like thinking about him. You could make even another Jaquin, if you want to.

M starts a third Jaquin. Now he adds even more details to his creature: the Jaquin’s wings have feathers, and the feet are given claws.

M uses the sponge technique to manage the brush marks more skillfully. This refinement has become part of his painting repertoire.

A supporting teacher asks if children are required to wash out their brushes between colors.

No, washing the brush between colors can be taught to a child who is thinking, like M is, about color combinations, and discovering that keeping the yellow as yellow is now an important part of the process. Another painter may be content to mix it all up. We have lots of paint and fresh cups that can come out when a child wants them.

The paint tray meets children exactly where they are. The children grow and bring their ever more expansive selves to the easel, again and again.

Working on his third version today, M peers closely at the original inspiration picture, taking in even more detail now.
M: The paws must be where the claws hide inside.

When the latest Jaquin is finished, M studies all three paintings. Another child, intrigued and present for the very first Jaquin painting M made, comes over to look too. We admire M’s work together.

Marie: Wow, I really see how much thinking you’re doing about your Jaquin paintings! Each time you paint, I see you learning more about how you want to make it. Now that you’ve made three Jaquin paintings, which one do you like the best?
The third one, M decides.
Marie: What makes you feel like this one is your best work?
M: Because of the claws.

—Marie Catrett, Teacher-Founder-Director | Tigerlily Preschool

Project Week at Headwaters School: Turning curiosity into creation

Paul Lambert, Headwaters School mathematics guide

Like Paige Arnell’s recent guest post for the blog, this piece by Paul Lambert is about one school’s approach to creativity—in this case a step-by-step collaborative method to get special student projects underway. Paul is a mathematics guide at Headwaters School in Austin, Texas.

Every year since 2004, Headwaters School has held Project Week, a unique departure from regular classes during which students choose their topic of study, determine their learning objectives, and share their passions with our school community. Over the years, Project Week has inspired a variety of creative projects, including building a robotic wolf, writing and illustrating a children’s book, designing a biometric sensor, and producing a short documentary about Project Week itself.

Embarking on a big creative endeavor like this can feel overwhelming for our students, so for the last two years we have instituted a structured, step-by-step idea-generation process tailored for middle and early high school students. This framework allows every student to transform their curiosity into a fully realized creation.

Step 1: Brainstorming

We start by getting students' creativity flowing. Each student spends five uninterrupted minutes writing their interests, curiosities, or things they’d like to explore on sticky notes—one idea per note. To encourage a productive session, we emphasize three practices:

• Deferring judgment: Every idea is valid at this stage of the process.

• Encouraging wild ideas: Unconventional concepts often lead to breakthroughs.

• Prioritizing quantity: More ideas mean more possibilities.

By the end of this stage, students have a stack of sticky notes brimming with potential.

Step 2: Mind-Mapping

Next, students work in groups of three or four to organize their sticky notes into categories. Each group decides how to categorize ideas and how each idea fits inside the category. Then, they create a mind map with “Project Week” at the center and their categories branching out as spokes. This collaborative activity helps identify connections and themes, setting the stage for focused exploration.

Headwaters students mind-mapping

Step 3: Concept Development

Once students have collected and categorized their interests, they dive into developing some full project concepts. Students are encouraged to think about how they could combine multiple interests (from the same category or across categories) into one project idea. This is a process that takes time and a great deal of careful consideration.

1. Each student divides an 11" x 17" sheet of paper into three sections and is given 15 minutes to develop three distinct project ideas with as much detail as possible.

2. The papers are then passed to the next member of the group. Each student has 3 minutes to add to or modify the concepts on this page, ensuring no one erases anything.

3. Papers are passed around the group until all members have added to each paper.

This method encourages diverse perspectives while preserving the originality of each idea.

Concept development in a Headwaters classroom

Step 4: Gallery Walk

To gather broader feedback, we have a Gallery Walk. Students display their concept pages around the room or on their desks, and their peers provide constructive comments and suggestions as they stroll around the space. To foster a supportive environment, we ask students to offer two positive remarks for every critique.

By the end of this stage, each concept is enriched with fresh insights, helping students refine their ideas further.

Step 5: Finalizing the Project Idea

With these improved ideas, students choose one concept to develop into their final Project Week plan over the next week. They reflect on key questions to guide their decision:

• What do you hope to learn?

• What skills do you hope to develop?

• What do you hope to create?

• Why is this project important to you?

• Why is this project interesting to you?

Answering these questions helps students articulate the purpose and significance of their project, preparing them to pitch their ideas the following week.

Why This Process Works

This idea-generation process was adapted from the Engineer Your World course at the University of Texas and designed with our middle and high school students in mind. It breaks the intimidating task of starting a project into manageable, engaging steps while fostering creativity, collaboration, and critical thinking. By the time students present their project pitches, they’ve already invested thought, effort, and enthusiasm into their ideas while also receiving feedback, lowering the risk when presenting.

A Headwaters sixth-grade passion project on female artists

Through brainstorming, mind mapping, developing their concepts, and peer feedback, students learn how to turn a simple curiosity into a meaningful project—and, in the process, discover the joy of exploring their passions.

—Paul Lambert, Mathematics Guide | Headwaters School

The imagination is an essential tool

We’re pleased to welcome Paige Arnell to the blog as a guest writer on the role of imagination and creativity in education today. Paige is the head of school at Kirby Hall School, which serves PreK through 8th grade learners in Central Austin.

The imagination is an essential tool of the mind, a fundamental way of thinking.
—Ursula K. LeGuin

The changing landscape of childhood is much discussed in the parenting and education world. The reality of digital saturation generates much debating of how, when, and where, and pundits of varying authority weigh in on benefits and dangers. Whatever your philosophy, there is no question that we’ve entered a radically new way of growing up. 

There are many points of entry for the anxious here. No matter your pedagogy or teaching philosophy, for all educators it is a time of considerable questioning and revising. 

One thing that is becoming more and more evident is that for earlier generations so much of the “work” of learning was happening outside of the schoolhouse door.  When children were bored and left to their own devices—without devices, when children were gathering in groups together to make their own entertainment, when children were staring down the long hours of a blank afternoon, they were actively engaging in this essential work of imagining. Out of necessity, they made something out of nothing. They invented a landscape of discovery and collaboration. Obviously, some children did more than others; there were leaders and followers. This is not new information. Waxing nostalgic for childhoods of the past appears to be a perpetual exercise of adulthood; however, what we are newly considering is how much this work of recreation dramatically affected the tasks of the classroom. We now are seeing that children entering school without this practice are at a deficit, and that the tasks of deep learning are becoming more difficult for them. 

Imagination is the foundation of critical thinking. Without imagination, we have no creativity, we have no curiosity. Without imagination, one might argue, we have no thinking. 

This is nothing new, and resources abound for creative activities for children. Unfortunately, what many of these amount to are really no more than decorative activities. A creative writing prompt, a craft with a specific end product, a writing “journal” with pre-filled images and fill-in-the-blank responses. Perhaps some glue, glitter, and markers will be involved. These are nice activities, and many children enjoy them, and they make for cute wall decoration, but they rarely require real working of the mind.

These times require more from all educators. These times require us to ask ourselves more challenging questions. They require us to evaluate what it might mean to prioritize the imagination within our classrooms and schools. 

If we truly take as a foundational principle the claim that “the imagination is an essential tool of the mind,” how might we need to reconsider the primacy of imaginative activity in learning environments, primarily in early childhood education? What does it mean to be free to imagine? Does it mean that we give ourselves permission to think of new things? Does it mean we give ourselves permission to try something really new—at least for us? Does it mean that we allow ourselves to act a different role, to move our bodies in a different way, to try a different voice, to try a new style of writing? Does it mean that we allow our mind to wander so freely that anything can happen … a puddle can become the ocean and twigs and leaves can become great ships? Does it mean that we allow ourselves to write familiar words in new combinations?

Yes, we might say, and we might say yes quite easily. In these times—in these times in which the mind is distracted almost continuously and so very rarely given the quiet and time it needs to drift into the world of imagination—in these times, educators must push themselves even further. We must push ourselves beyond a simple yes and into a deep consideration of the fundamental changes that a radical commitment to honoring the work of the imagination would look like beyond glittery decoration. 

If we believe that the transformative and powerful work rests on a bedrock of imagination and creative thinking—that critical thinking and the production of ideas can only grow from this rich soil—then how do we need to change our classrooms? It seems we must give our students a few things:

• We must give them time, specifically, unstructured time. If we fill their days with tasks and to-dos, they may never reach the space in which a stick becomes a wand or a telescope. 

• We must show them our own willingness to play and engage with the world in new ways. If we view children’s imaginative free time as time for us to check out of their world, we are showing them that imagination is secondary.

• We must give primacy of place to their creations and to their work—no matter how messy it may be. Imagination vitally requires process and not production. Let’s take down the professionally made posters. Let’s allow our students to create the classroom.

We’re called now to create communities in which school provides an almost sacred place for play and exploration, for the joy in creating and making messes. Parents and educators have an incredible opportunity to support each other in this work that may not produce a worksheet one can tape to the fridge, but rather supports the growth of a mind in all of its wonder and full humanness.

—Paige Arnell, Head of School | Kirby Hall School

Answering the “Should I?” and “Can I?” questions

Ken Hawthorn founded and runs “a school in a makerspace”: Austin School for the Driven. For this guest post I invited Ken to share his decision-making process when students propose projects that could be dangerous or controversial. In his candid response below, he invites readers to help him think through two specific (and real) dilemmas, either by emailing him directly or by leaving a comment here on the blog. —Teri

Our school bifurcates the teaching of skills and ethics. The answer to almost any “Can I?” question at our school is “Yes, and here is how.” The answer to “Should I?” needs to be explored in parallel with the “Can I?” question. As a school founder, I take great pride in how far we are willing to take that bifurcation at Austin School for the Driven.

Recently I have been navigating a few topics where I find myself hesitating to live up to giving students all the knowledge so they have the power to take a responsible approach to decision making in our school. With so many unique schools keeping Austin weird, I hope sharing my own challenges and discomforts around some student questions may be helpful or thought-provoking to others. 

Student Question #1: Can we spray-paint under the bridge and make a mural? 

I have been navigating this question for a year now. Spray-painting in the hands of children is nothing new at Austin School for the Driven. We have used spray paint on our RC car bodies and water-dipping projects. It makes me smile every time our school takes a field trip to Home Depot and we get the stink eye from security as our kids fill a small cart with spray paint cans. What is new is the student request to spray-paint in a public place.

RC car bodies spray-painted by students at Austin School for the Driven

There is existing spray paint on the walls of the tunnel they are targeting. If I said yes to this question, I would be a teacher leading students on an urban beautification project. On the other hand, saying yes to this question could be seen as an adult leading minors to commit a crime. For me this is a difficult question.

The students are absolutely serious about the quality of the proposed mural. To date, the students have scanned the tunnel with Lidar and created a 3D digital model that we can deploy at full-size scale as augmented reality inside of our classroom. We have found a spray paint simulator and are learning about the variety of nozzles that can be used to get very narrow or wide paint patterns.

What is the right decision here? What side should the “Should I?” land on this question?

Lidar scan used by Driven students to create a 3D model of a local tunnel showing preexisting graffiti

Student Question #2: How does vaping work?

This is a “Can I?” question. I am totally fine having students do research and then discussing the “Should I?” part. What is less comfortable for me is providing knowledge involved with the “Can I?” question. It is sad that this question came up on one of our hikes along Shoal Creek Trail because there were so many of the disposable vaping devices littered along the trail.

No, we are not bringing a vaping device to campus, but building a functional model to vaporize propylene glycol or glycerol could be really educational. A vaping device actually is a reasonably technical machine. You have the battery, the heating coil, the baffle mesh, and a computer to regulate voltage, measure resistance, and target a certain wattage. There is a charging circuit and another circuit that acts as a fail-safe if the temperature goes up or there is too much battery discharge. There are also thousands of other machines we could build in the lab. Would building a model in some way still glamorize vaping?

I ask this question, and the question about spray-painting the bridge, because I don’t yet have an answer; I do not know what the right answer is. Austin School for the Driven exists as an experiment to see what happens when we hold standards and at the same time maximize student agency within a framework of “Yes,” “No,” and “Maybe” answers to questions of “Can I” and “Should I,” which then define the learning boundaries of the school.

Kenneth Hawthorn | Austin School for the Driven