Documentation Design
- Kelly Goodsir
- 3 days ago
- 7 min read
How the design of documentation shapes what we pay attention to.
In early childhood education, documentation is not just something we do — it’s part of how we think, how we listen, and how we make learning visible. Yet across many settings, it has become overly regimented — something to follow and repeat rather than deeply engage and think with. Educators are often expected to use predetermined formats, regardless of their knowledge, confidence or creativity, which so often leads to disconnection rather than connection. This can feel frustrating — especially when rigid formats get in the way of an educator’s capacity to think deeply, interpret meaning, or respond with intent.
“The way we design our documentation not only reflects what we value—it shapes what we are able to see.”(Margie Carter, 2014, p139)
When documentation becomes a task to complete rather than a tool to think with, its deeper purpose begins to fade. As leaders I think we have a responsibility to challenge these habitual patterns and create the conditions where documentation is understood, valued, and supported through a shared learning process with our teams. When we invest the time in building professional understanding, we begin to restore documentation as a meaningful, pedagogical act — one that is co-constructed and holds connection with those who use it.
I often notice a common tension as I visit with early childhood service — between the need to meet expectations and the desire to stay true to their pedagogical values. I often think of this as the space between templates and the frameworks.
Templates offer order. They are neat, familiar, and prescriptive — but they can quietly imply that the thinking has already been done. That we just need to fill in the blanks. A box for this, a space for that. In time, they can become about completion over curiosity. Efficiency over engagement. And yet, templates do have a place in our learning — a bit like we all start driving with our L plates. They give us something to hold onto while we find our way. But with strong coaching and mentoring, educators reach a point where they no longer need to stick to the script, they move form their L plates — that’s when I think it is important to go freestyle.
Frameworks, on the other hand, invite us into a process. They hold space for evolving ideas and encourage interpretation, often through thoughtful prompts and language that invites thinking. They offer structure without stealing the soul of our observations. A good framework doesn’t rush — it provokes, guides, and grows with us. It honours complexity rather than trying to oversimplify.
So, design MATTERS. The design of documentation influences what we notice and what we ignore. It focuses our attention. It communicates what matters. Our design choices are never impartial — they frame what’s seen, what’s valued, and how the story of learning is received. When we choose a layout, title, or format, we’re not simply arranging information — we’re shaping the story for the author to populate.
“Documentation isn’t neutral—it’s a choice about what to pay attention to and how to tell the story.” (Ann Pelo, 2017, p15)
How Language Shapes Design
Use these examples and expand this to yoru own context and language used - does it 'fit' with your intentions?
Common Phrase | Pedagogical Alternative | How It Influences Design |
Planned Activity | Learning Proposal | Shifts from task-oriented to inquiry-oriented; invites co-construction. |
Extend the learning | Open possibilities for revisiting | Moves from linear progression to cyclical thinking and deeper engagement. |
Learning outcome achieved | What learning is unfolding? | Moves away from fixed endings and toward ongoing inquiry. |
Link to EYLF | Contextualise the EYLF | Anchors meaning in the learning moment rather than linking for compliance. |
Add photos to illustrate | Select an image that provokes thought | Encourages purposeful visual storytelling over proof-of-life documentation. |
Write an observation | Capture an insight into learning | Shifts from procedural writing to thoughtful interpretation and meaning. |
Daily updates: what we did | Periodic reflections that share learning over time | Encourages deeper, cumulative insights into learning rather than surface-level daily reporting. |
Design can support collaboration — or create silos.
It can support slowness, reflection, and dialogue — or push us into a mechanical rhythm of “doing” and “proving.” As Lorraine Sands from the ELP reminds me a few years back when I was listening to her at a conference, "too much focus on what documentation should look like risks reducing it to a technical cycle" — I think what I notice most about this is the artistry and inquiry of research and reflection quietly disappear into the template.
Documentation by design, not default
Creating a strong documentation culture is not instant — it’s built over time, through shared effort, deep thinking, and a commitment to staying close to what matters. Teams who walk this path don’t just ask what they’re documenting, but why it matters — to the children, to their pedagogy, to their purpose. They wrestle with the tension between capturing and interpreting. They practice tuning in, lingering with complexity, and resisting the urge to rush. They are willing to call the design into question and reimagine it, recognising that as we grow pedagogically, so too should our systems.
Now this brings some tension when we consider hwo this might be engaged genuinely when at scale. If documentation is designed from higher up the ladder and has little flexibility for the local context to adapt we run the risk of educators being disconnected from the rich partnership that documentation offers in our professional practice. Efficiency and compliance are not all that should be considered.
How do we stay pedagogically connected when documentation is designed beyond our immediate context?
Resisting the 'tidy bow'
The design of documentation should make visible the thinking that lives beneath the surface — the wondering, the pattern-seeking, the pedagogical lens. It should serve the child’s voice, not drown it out. It should deepen the dialogue, not wrap it up in a tidy bow.
Documentation design must also respect the reality of time. When systems demand more than what’s realistically possible, quality is replaced with compliance. A well-designed approach considers the rhythms of the week, the demands on educators, and the need for thinking time — not just writing time. Honouring time is part of honouring the educator’s role as an early childhood professional.
So perhaps the question isn’t just, “What does your documentation look like?”But instead — “What kind of thinking does your design invite?”And if the answer doesn’t feel quite right… maybe it’s time to resist and reimagine.
Reflective Questions: rethinking documentation design
How does the planning cycle serve as a language for thinking and meaning-making, rather than a checklist of tasks? Does it help you interpret, revisit, and extend learning — or has it become a routine to complete?
How does our documentation invite conversation, curiosity, or contribution from others? Is it designed to be interacted with, revisited, and built upon?
Have our documentation tools evolved with our thinking — or have they remained fixed over time? When was the last time you redesigned with purpose?
In what ways are children part of the documentation process? Are you documenting with children, or simply reporting on them?
If we let go of assumptions about what documentation should look like, what new possibilities might emerge? What would you be free to notice, say, or try?
Now, Let’s Talk Online Documentation
Online documentation brings opportunities for connection and communication with families, but it can also subtly influence what is prioritised in practice. For example, when a early childhood setting uses their online platform for quick photo uploads with brief captions, educators often feel pressure to document what is most visually appealing or easy to summarise, this often keeps things at a surface level and lacks pedagogical depth.
I remember watching an educator during rest time, juggling the daily post while trying to meet each child’s needs for relaxation. Honestly, I felt like I owed her an apology on behalf of our profession.
The tension lies in how we, as leaders, support teams to navigate the space between meaningful communication and external expectations. It requires thoughtful decision-making about what matters, how we communicate, frequency of that communication and lets not forget advocating for educator right to be present with children.
Wisdom lies in pausing long enough to ask: Does this tool support how we see, listen, and think with children — or is it asking us to complete a task that has now potentially lost all its meaning.
Reflective Questions: navigating digital platforms
How has the use of online platforms influenced what we choose to document — and how we do it? Are we shaping our observations to fit the platform, or shaping the platform to fit our pedagogy?
Does online documentation support meaningful collaboration amongst teaching teams — or does it risk becoming a solitary task to report? Are we thinking together, or documenting alone?
How do our online tools support slow thinking, dialogue, and revisiting over time?
Or do they subtly encourage quick uploads and surface-level summaries?
Does our digital system encourage us to be researchers of children’s thinking — or reporters of outcomes? What kind of educator identity does it foster in the long term, and what impact does this have on our profession as a whole?
In the end, the way we design documentation shapes not just what we capture, but how we (our teams) think, listen, and relate. When we resist the urge to simplify the complex, we create space for deeper pedagogical meaning — where documentation becomes less about ticking boxes and more about telling the story of learning with integrity and care.
I welcome your reflections and thought.
In gratitude and kindness
References
Carter, M., & Curtis, D. (2014). Learning together with young children: A curriculum framework for reflective teachers(2nd ed.). Redleaf Press.
Pelo, A. (2017). The language of art: Inquiry-based studio practices in early childhood settings (2nd ed.). Redleaf Press.
The thoughts shared in this blog come from my own experiences and reflections in early childhood education. These ideas aren’t about having all the answers — they’re an invitation to reflect, question, and reimagine what might be possible in your own context.