Starting the School Year in the Sandbox

Last spring the middle schoolers were late coming inside from their typical 45 minute afternoon free play. One or two learners straggling in after the majority of the group was not rare, but on this afternoon the entire group was late. It was one of those early spring days where the sky was extra blue and the sun was warm enough to remind you that summer was just around the corner. I figured it was the too-good-to-be-true weather that was to blame, so it wasn’t until the following day when we all headed outside to lunch that I realized what had stolen their attention: the sandbox.

The middle schoolers had created an intricate world of sand tunnels in the 10 x 10 sandbox on the playground. Instead of eating lunch first and then playing, which was our normal routine, lunch boxes were flung to the fence, and everyone picked up right where they left off, playing in the sand.

I stood there for a moment taking in the sight of these middle schoolers kneeling, laying, and sitting on the edge of the sandbox engrossed in imaginative play. I found one of the abandoned Adirondack chairs, usually never found empty, sat down, ate my lunch, and took in the scene. For over an hour I listened to the sixth, seventh, and eighth graders use their imaginations, work together, laugh, and reach a state of flow that caused them to find joy and forget time. I also chose to forget time – the freedom to follow the child is exactly what being a Guide at The Village School is all about. I found joy in the (rare compared to their peers) opportunity that these young people had to play in a literal sandbox, and felt gratitude that this type of experience is not a rare at our school.

Over the next several weeks the sandbox play continued. Each day the learners would return to their previous day’s creation and start anew. The younger learners would admire their work from a distance, somehow realizing the special synergy that was happening between the older learners and not wanting to disrupt it, they actually went out of their way to protect their creations. Another guide started recording other learner’s reactions to the new situation in the sandbox each day.

“Beautiful!”

“Awesome!”

“This is so cool!”

“What will they do next?”

“Ants, the ants could live in it!”

“No, don’t step on it, you’re breaking it!”

“I wonder how they made this!”

“Wow!”

I couldn’t help but think of how different this experience might have played out (pun intended) at a more conventional school. Elementary school learners in most Virginia schools are allowed 30 minutes of recess, many times split into two fifteen minute sessions, and the fifteen-minute middle school break that was recently reinstated doesn’t include a playground or a sandbox. I acknowledge that play can and should transcend the literal playground – but the typical experience reflects how and when we value play..

At TVS, playful learning is a goal of ours each day, not just for our youngest learners, but for all of us – including our guides. As a guide team we spent the summer studying the research-based pedagogical approach, playful learning. Harvard researchers write extensively about the importance of taking a playful stance – suggesting that playful learning happens anytime a learner is

Leading their own learning
Exploring the unknown, and
Finding joy

The researchers go on to claim that “playful learning in school occurs when students want to be doing the same as what their teachers want them to be doing” which can happen beyond the playground, and the sandbox.

Last spring, around the same time that our middle schoolers immersed themselves in the literal sandbox, our guide team hosted a professional learning event at our school. Participants from a diverse range of schools and contexts showed up to network, tour our space, and consider our learning design. To close out the event, we asked the attendees to gather in a circle and share their takeaways from their time learning about our school. As a team, we were interested to see what stood out about our space. One participant shared something that has stuck with me ever since:

“I’m inspired by the room for ambivalence in every space. It feels like a wonderful invitation to not have someone tell you who or how you should show up each day.”

I’m curious if this comment was inspired by the sustainability park models that were mid-creation in several studios. There were uncapped glue sticks, markers, tangled yarn, torn construction paper scraps, cardboard box fragments, and random pieces of recycled materials strewn around the room. Little did she know that her comment captured the heart of a pedagogy of play and our school’s mission.

The middle schoolers sandbox story serves as a powerful reminder of our mission here at TVS. In The Design of Childhood, Alexandra Yang writes, “Sand is a material that lends itself to sharing, making, and remaking…..the player has to create her own intrinsic fun.” This is our mission each day and each year at TVS. We set out this year and every year, to create a space where young people have agency over their own learning and the freedom to create their own experience, remaking it as many times as they want.

Yang also wonders, “Maybe sandbox games are the playground adults don’t realize they still need.” This year we invite you to join us in the sandbox – come share, make, remake, forget time, and find joy with us!