I teach American Sign Language and also art in a New York City high school. I often go to courses to support my teaching skills and sometimes, I improve my craft in the most unexpected places.
One summer day, I didn’t expect to find myself learning so much in the middle of a classroom that was, quite frankly, unlike any I’d seen before. It wasn’t my usual teaching space—it was more open, fluid, and run by someone with a surprisingly clear vision for learning.
“Over there is for reading. That’s the spot for sounds,” said the teacher, confidently pointing out different stations around the room. “Or you can choose something else.” He rattled off options like a seasoned educator.
As I took it all in, my own teacher-brain kicked into overdrive as my mind attempted to assimilate this new information: Label everything like this… yes, be more concrete with my warm demands… structure the space so that independence is actually possible.
As an art teacher, I’ve always considered myself a hands-on, project-based instructor, but this level of specificity from the fellow leading my master class, the clarity of his expectations and the freedom in his teaching style – it was inspiring.
And then Logan, my master teacher/guide who also happens to be my four year old nephew, interrupted my thoughts.
“What are you going to work on?” he asked me. “I don’t want you sitting around doing nothing.” I smiled. Message received.
This imaginary classroom set up in Logan’s bedroom was more than just play—it was a purposeful learning environment. Each visitor/student (even an auntie, apparently) was expected to choose their path, take ownership, and move forward with intention. As the “teacher,” Logan provided the doors. It was up to me to walk through them.
I came to “babysit,” but I left being taught.
What began as an imaginary classroom is helping me reform my real one. I had been longing to create more independence and self-direction in my high school students, particularly in my art classes. Watching Logan’s approach reminded me: autonomy doesn’t mean chaos—it means clearly labeled materials, clearly defined choices, and trust. I can already envision it: students choosing the order in which to explore new techniques, pursuing the art projects that speak to them most. Yes, they’ve followed my lead—and now, I have the room to follow theirs, too.
By Lenore Pemberton — © 1996 – 2026 www.transformationmadeeasy.com. Click to subscribe to our newsletter and blog.