In traditional educational settings, planning often resembles a roadmap: detailed lessons, predetermined objectives, and fixed outcomes set before learning even begins. But anyone who has spent time with young children knows their learning doesn’t follow a straight line. It loops, spirals, and often surprises us.

Why Rethink Planning?

Conventional planning tends to be rigid—adult-driven and outcome-focused—with little room for the unexpected ideas and wonder that naturally emerge when children are deeply engaged. This structure can unintentionally limit creativity, autonomy, and a child's sense of agency.

Children are naturally curious. They make meaning through play, exploration, and relationships. When planning is too fixed, we risk overlooking those rich, emergent moments of discovery that arise when we slow down and truly listen.

What if our role wasn’t only to execute a plan, but to remain open and responsive to the directions children lead us in? What if we shifted from delivering learning to co-constructing it—allowing the process to be shaped by the children’s curiosity, experiences, and sense of wonder?

Many educators today are moving away from rigid planning toward a more open, collaborative, and dynamic way of working.

From Planning to Designing with Flexibility and Intent

In Reggio Emilia–inspired practice, this shift is known as progettazione—an Italian word meaning “to throw forward.” It emphasizes projection into the unknown and represents an exploratory, evolving process in which educators bring knowledge and intention into the classroom while remaining open to the unexpected directions that emerge through children’s inquiries.

Rethinking planning is not about doing less—it’s about doing differently. It’s a move away from rigid, pre-set lesson plans toward an approach grounded in curiosity, responsiveness, and co-construction.

This doesn’t mean abandoning intentionality. As educators, we still prepare environments, gather materials, and observe closely. But we do so with openness and flexibility, ready to pivot when a child’s question or gesture opens a new path forward.

Rather than designing step-by-step lessons with fixed outcomes, we might begin with broad concepts—like “exploring trees”—and let children’s questions, observations, and insights guide the journey.

Progettazione values relationships, dialogue, and the interplay between children, materials, spaces, and educators (Rinaldi, 2006). It means trusting the process and recognizing the child not as a passive recipient of knowledge but as an active participant in shaping it.

What Does It Look Like in Practice? A Tree Inquiry Begins

This documentation captures a moment within a larger year-long project with children aged 3 to 5. As part of our pedagogical focus on nature and our region in Provence, France, we went on a hike, after which we decided to explore trees more closely.

We began exploring trees in our school’s yard. Equipped with magnifying glasses, clay, and drawing tools, we set out to observe bark textures, identify tree parts, and compare species.

Children quickly engaged with the tools: some drew detailed representations, others pressed clay into bark to create prints. But when a group wandered into the bushes, something unexpected unfolded.

Through the Eyes of the Children: Trees as Places, Not Subjects of Study

While the children played in the bushes, we joined them in conversation. As they climbed trees, smelled the trunks, hung from branches, or lay among them, their words and gestures revealed how deeply they were connected to this place. This was not merely an observation space, but a lived, sensory-rich experience.

Here’s what they had to say about the bushes that had become their favorite play spot:

“There are very thin trunks, so we can hold on well, and it’s also very strong so it doesn’t break in two.”

“There are a lot of branches and they make our beds. It’s relaxing, we can rest anywhere in the branches. There are plenty of branches to sit on.”

“He found a secret hideout, a secret passage. I can’t say where it is.”

“My favorite spot is over here, on this side, because there are lots of leaves and we can hide really well.”

While scientific classification has its place, the children were inviting us to see trees not just as living organisms to study, but as places of belonging—special, beloved places woven into their everyday lives. In their eyes, trees were not “objects” of observation but intimate landscapes where play unfolds, stories emerge, and connections form. Trees became play spaces—hideouts, climbing spots, resting places with 'beds' made of branches, and pathways to secret places.

This wasn’t a detour from learning—it was the learning.

Expanding the Inquiry: Why Do Trees Make the Best Playgrounds?

Our initial idea to study the biology of trees was never meant to be prescriptive. It was a starting point—an invitation to dialogue. We projected forward with curiosity and tools, but remained open to being redirected.

The children's embodied engagement and emotional connection to the bushes brought new depth to the project. This is the essence of co-constructed learning: a shared space between adult intention and children's ideas. This space offers a fertile ground for rich and meaningful learning experiences to emerge.

In a group reflection—an essential step in our process—we revisited the experience together. We shared video footage of the children playing in the bushes with the rest of the class, inviting everyone to reflect collectively. Watching the videos sparked rich conversations, as children shared their thoughts and personal experiences of playing among trees and bushes.

Their reflections led us to pose new questions as a group:

Why do children feel so at home in trees?
What makes a tree an ideal playground compared to other spaces?

Designing Our Ideal Play Space

This marked the second phase of our inquiry. Building on their lived experiences, children were invited to:

Reflect on what made trees ideal for play
Compare different play spaces, including unconventional ones
Design and build their “ideal play space” in 3D using clay and loose parts
Reimagine how to transform the bushes into an even better space for play

This phase was a blend of reflection, creative design, and critical thinking. Rooted in the children’s real interactions with nature, it opened space for imagination and innovation.

They weren’t just learning about trees—they were building relationships with place and expanding possibilities through their own vision.

Conclusion: Embracing the Unpredictable Journey of Learning

Rethinking planning in early childhood education is not just a shift in method—it’s a transformation in mindset. By embracing flexibility, responsiveness, and a co-constructive approach, we acknowledge that learning is a dynamic, unpredictable process. Just as children’s curiosity leads them on winding paths, our role as educators is to walk beside them, ready to adapt, explore, and grow together.

Progettazione, as seen in the tree inquiry, shows us that the process itself is where the true learning occurs. It’s about creating environments and experiences that invite questions, foster relationships, and encourage exploration. When we shift from a rigid roadmap to a more organic, child-centered approach, we open up opportunities for deeper connection, richer experiences, and a learning journey that honors both the child’s voice and our own as educators.

Ultimately, this way of planning doesn’t limit possibilities—it expands them. It allows us to co-create with children, not just teach them. When we embrace the unpredictability of learning, we honor the richness of childhood itself: a time of wonder, exploration, and endless possibility.

Rethinking Planning in Early Childhood: Trees Through Children’s Eyes