The River School in Washington, DC and, subsequently, the Potomac River Clinic and National Center for Hearing Innovation, were born out of the shared vision to ensure all children with hearing loss have the best start imaginable. The first and only progressive, independent school of its kind, The River School provides children with hearing loss and their hearing peers an inclusive learning environment with a heightened focus on language, literacy and social development delivered by highly educated teachers and speech therapists. Working in conjunction with clinical services that lead the field of pediatric auditory, speech and language development, The River School serves a higher purpose and attracts families and professionals who embrace the mission.

If education systems were designed from the ground up to develop self-awareness and reflection; wisdom and discernment; kindness, empathy and compassion; ecological and ecosystems awareness, mastery and responsibility; gratitude, social integration and harmony; co-creative agency, joyful participation and commitment; and our very best selves, what might those systems look like?

We might imagine our very best self to be “the full flowering of our human potential” or, perhaps we might imagine offering our unique gifts to the world and accomplishing “all that we’re capable of as human beings.” Empirically, we’re fully capable of living peacefully among one another. We’re capable of living intimately and reverently with our non-human kin and integrating harmoniously with the vast tapestry of the cosmos. We’re capable of co-creative adaptation, imagination and transformation. Throughout our 300,000 year (or so) lineage as homo sapiens, we’ve already accomplished these things, evidenced by our existence here today. We could say that a dynamic, evidence-based and practical ecosocial literacy has been handed down to us through the myriad languages and human cultures around the planet, developed and tested through thousands of human generations. This is self-evident since we are the sole remaining species in the hominin lineage. None of the others who shared our hominin line survived the crucible of extinction.[1] Despite the shortcomings of our more recent history, the much longer fossil record indicates we have everything we need to make the profound transformation now required of us in the 21st century.

Japan is an aging society with a low birthrate. In March 2022, Shiroishi City, located in the south of Miyagi prefecture Japan, established a committee to consider the future of public schools in light of the declining school aged population. I was elected to chair the working group. Our committee began our work by looking at the city's student demographics. The total number of students in elementary school from 1st grade to 6th grade was 1,332 in 2022, but it is predicted that this will decrease to 600 in about 10 years (about 100 students per grade). Also, today, the standard number of children per class in Japan is 40. In the future, if there are 100 students in each grade, even if we collect students from the entire city, there will only be three classes per graded. In 10 years, one school in a city will be enough, compared to the 10 elementary schools and 5 junior high schools in Shiroshi City in 2022. All of this shows why school consolidation is inevitable in Japan's future.

What does it mean to be a teacher? More elemental, What does it mean to even contemplate being a teacher? And what does it mean to come back to one’s home community to teach, and learn?  When does that moment happen when being a teacher first crosses one’s mind? I suspect that for some young people that moment happens and the questions arise when they first experience student-driven learning with a great teacher, guide or coach. A single class that engages a young learner could very well be the spark that ignites the fire and the passion to teach. I also suspect that for many young folk it is their “less than engaging” experiences “in class” that quickly turn them away from what many call the most noble profession. So what happens then? What forces come into play that, later, might tempt young folks into teaching? Surely it is not the pay, or the working conditions, or the way teachers are often in the crosshairs of our current cultural conflicts. 

My name is Martin Hamilton. I was born and raised on the island of Maui. This is my third year of teaching at Makawao Elementary School. The devastating Lahaina and Kula wildfires have had an emotional impact on me and all members of my island’s community, and with a new school year beginning for my 4th graders just days after the fires, I found myself uncertain about how to start the school year. News was slowly coming in about the catastrophic impacts, and I hadn’t yet met my students. I was unsure about who, how, or to what extent my students and their families had been affected by the fires and to what degree. In this moment of uncertainty, I was strengthened by the support of my former professors at the University of Hawai‘i at Mānoa, including Dr. Toby Yos, whose feedback helped me orient myself during a difficult time. As teachers, I feel like most of us want so badly to help our students as much as we can. But sometimes it is difficult to know what will help them the most. I wanted to be able to become a counselor for every student in my class after the sad events on Maui. However, Toby’s message helped me remember that the best way I, as a classroom teacher, could help would be by laying the foundation for an intellectually and emotionally safe community. I remembered that healing will take time so I set out to re-plan the beginning weeks of school with this safe community as the goal.

In Spring 2023,  Nate Drackett graduated with a MFA in Theatre from University of Hawaiʻi at Mānoa.  His MFA thesis production was titled, unspecified: a theatrical exploration of identity. He explored what happens at the point where communal inquiry, democratized collaboration, and student-centered pedagogies intersect. He reached across the disciplines of philosophy, social work, and theatre to explore aspects of identity (race, gender, sexuality, mental health, and others) that many have a hard time specifying for themselves. This multi-disciplinary exploration served as a very practical example of how creating space for diverse and multitudinous ideas not only affords deeper inquiry, but also provides opportunity for shared power and facilitates the creation of a community of co-creators. Through the process, he found that creativity and curiosity are very closely linked, and that many different fields including education, theatre, and philosophy, are using a variety of tools, sometimes overlapping, to tap into their innate power. In this blog he shares the story of his own educational journey and the tools he’s discovered for fostering community, inquiry, creativity and a love of learning along the way. 

Micronesian ocean navigator and ancestor Mau Pialug’s (1932-2010) legacy taught the next and future generations the ancient wisdom of “traditional wayfinding, [which] is guided by the sun, moon, stars, winds, currents, and mathematical modeling” (Furuto & Phillips, 2021, p.263).  As a Polynesian master navigator, or Pwo, he teaches apprentices the concepts and procedures for precision engineering when preparing, mending, upgrading, and voyaging canoes. He uses an indigenous perspective, a genealogy of knowledge, which dates back in the Pacific waters to around 3,000 years ago (New Zealand History, 2023). Embedded in his language and the Pwo’s teachings of today are the answers to the three questions that continue to manifest in the process of precision engineering and mathematical modeling: What is changing? How is it changing? and Why is it changing? 

Last year, The River School, an independent, progressive school in Washington, DC, dedicated to children from 18 months through Grade 6, piloted Children Are Citizens (CAC). Created by Project Zero researchers and the Professional Development Collaborative at Washington International School, CAC is grounded in progressive education principles and inspired by the Reggio Emilia approach. As The River School is committed to and successful in delivering student-centered, inquiry-based learning in a democratic environment, CAC felt like a natural extension of our philosophy right out of the gate.

On May 13, 2023 Baylee Lorenne graduated from the University of Hawaiʻi at Mānoa, College of Education, Bachelor of Education in Secondary Education (BEd-Secondary) Kahalewaihoʻonaʻauao Program. This was one of the final steps in her journey to become a certified secondary social studies teacher in the State of Hawai‘i. As a part of her culminating experiences in the program, Baylee was asked to share lessons learned from her first year of teaching with both her peers and the new group of teacher candidates who had just entered the program. The following is an excerpt from her public presentation. As a new report from the state Department of Education (2023) highlights the ongoing difficulties of addressing Hawaii's teacher shortage, this blog provides insight into the experiences of young people as they step into one of the most challenging and rewarding professions.

While on sabbatical, I have been thinking a lot about creativity and how it is valued within the Reggio Emilia schools. This concentrated focus has increased my awareness of the power of creativity as it intersects with learning, and now I see it everywhere. For example, my five-year-old son, Enzo, has a range of sticks that are personal artifacts of his day spent in the forest. Each stick has a name and purpose, along with rocks he has been bringing home to hammer and chisel, no doubt inspired by all the sculptures he regularly sees around in public. He reminds me that as Malaguzzi suggests, children have incredibly creative ways of thinking about and using materials. This creativity extends to how they wonder about the world, and there is a special freedom in the ideas of children. We must stop and pause to notice how this creative thinking lends itself to childrens’ hypotheses about how things work and connections throughout our world. 

The concept of “the 100 languages of children” is one of the most integral aspects of the Reggio Emilia approach. It is based on Loris Malaguzzi’s poem “No Way. The Hundred Is There,” which is a powerful and emotional poem about how children have the right to express themselves in 100 ways. For the full effect, I urge you to pause and read this aloud to your colleagues, partner, friend, or children.

As sunlight filters through tall glass doors, it illuminates multiple shades of blue paint in glass jars, translucent  sheets of color that dance and invite curiosity. Greenery, such as plants, trees, and flowers spread throughout the space inviting the outside in. Different shades of clay are placed in mounds on tables with natural materials beside them, ready for interpretation. The aroma of homemade bread and fresh cut fruit wafts in from the kitchen, and the art, words, photos, and other documentation of the daily lives of children who inhabit this space smile proudly on the walls. These are some of the beautiful and inviting materials, senses, and spaces I’ve observed in Reggio Emilia classrooms, artfully designed for young children. 

This winter, the north swells kicked up to historic levels, bringing waves beyond anything in living memory. They ran The Eddie on an epic day after calling it off a week earlier. The Eddie is a big wave surf competition that only goes in the rarest of conditions, massive swells with good winds. But really, The Eddie is more than a surf competition. It is a celebration of Waimea Bayʻs first lifeguard, Eddie Aikau, more than anything else.