Recently, we shared a little about the intentionality behind professional development at GAP. Before learners ever arrived, our educators spent time together thinking, playing, problem-solving, asking questions, wrestling with ideas, and building relationships. We don’t expect a group of adults to walk into a room and instantly become a strong team simply because they all work at the same school. Turns out, we don’t expect that of kids either. It can be tempting, especially a

Orange Monarchs with Emily The first few weeks of school have been magical and transformative as we've bonded and built our class community! As a flock, we exercised collaboration as we generated flock name ideas. After voting for the Orange Monarchs, we practiced creativity and came up with a cheer to show our pride! Here we learned and reviewed the lifecycle of a butterfly and incorporated it into our song. While transitioning back to school, we have been building our u

What happens at GAP School before the kids arrive? A whole lot of learning! For two weeks before the first backpacks arrived, GAP educators became the learners. We moved. We built things. We spent time outside. We worked in groups. We wrestled with questions that didn't always have obvious answers. We reflected, disagreed, revised our thinking, laughed a lot, and occasionally got wonderfully off track because someone asked a really good question. In other words, we learned th

A conversation this week has been stuck in my head. We were talking about childhood when someone said something that felt surprisingly profound: "Sometimes parents and teachers just need permission." Permission to slow down. Permission to spend an afternoon outside. Permission to get muddy. Permission to leave the dishes in the sink because the creek is calling. Permission to wonder. It made me think about how easy it is to fill summer with good intentions. Camps, vacations,

Towards the start of my teaching career, I had a student that I was constantly butting heads with. He challenged every direction I gave. He questioned everything. We seemed to spend more time frustrating each other than actually learning. One afternoon, I realized that nothing I was doing was working. So, I decided to stop trying to fix the situation and start trying to understand it. "Hey bud," I said. "It feels like we're driving each other bananas. What's going on? How can

Recently, I've found myself thinking about a simple question: What does it mean to protect childhood? Not preserve it in amber. Not pretend the world hasn't changed. Not reject technology or modern life. Simply protect it. Because childhood feels different than it did when many of us were growing up. Children today are navigating a world that is louder, faster, more connected, more scheduled, and more carefully managed than ever before. They are exposed to more information, m