The Learning Environment: a place of possibility
- Kelly Goodsir
- Jul 30
- 7 min read
The learning environment is never neutral. It reflects the values, beliefs, and intentions of the educators who create and care for it. It is an active participant in teaching and learning - breathing alongside the children and educators who move through it, shaping relationships, thinking, and possibility.
The learning environment is complex, weaving together the relational, the temporal, the cultural, the physical, the intellectual and and and… For the purpose of this piece, and to honour the scope of this blog, I will focus mainly on its physical/visible dimension - though it is worth remembering this is only one thread among many.
Spaces that Speak
“Spaces speak… Even though we cannot hear the walls or floors talking, the equipment conversing, or the materials and resources chattering, they are indeed speaking to us. They are offering a conversation that influences how we behave, react, engage and even think.”
This is a powerful lens: the idea that the environment speaks. It invites a reciprocal dialogue between children, educators, and space - each shaping the other, in a conversation with no clear beginning or end.
Have you ever considered the environment as a “space that speaks”?
Perhaps one of the greatest gifts we can offer as educators is to be awake to the conversation our environment is already offering children. When we are wide awake and noticing we are more open to reconsidering what we have perhaps normalised, realising it no longer serves us.
What is your environment saying to children, and what does it say about your image of the child?
The cloth draped over the collage trolley at 1pm - what does it communicate? You cannot touch?
The hot glue guns waiting patiently to do their job - what does this speak of? Trust, competence, an invitation into using real tools with responsibility.
The laminated stick-figure images placed around the room to manage group sizing - what do these communicate about agency, and who decides who can play where?
The small sign on a box inviting shoes to come off - if you prefer bare feet, you are welcome.
These examples show that our choices carry pedagogical intentions. Together, they communicate what is valued, what is possible, and the unconscious expectations of how to be and play in a space. None of these details are trivial or minor - they accumulate into a culture, a felt sense of “how things are done here,” and articulate a pedagogical position on our image of the child and our image of teaching.
Are we conscious - with eyes wide open - of the messages our environments send, and the impact this has on the overall learning culture of the space?
Do our practices align with the philosophy we aspire to, or do they sit in contradiction to it?
It is entirely possible to hold a beautiful, child-centred philosophy on paper while the environment tells a different story. That gap is often where the richest professional reflection lives for a team - a place of intellectual honesty.
The Environment as Teacher
Educators have long spoken of the environment as the “third teacher.” Most closely associated with the Reggio Emilia approach, this idea positions the environment as an active, interconnected participating agent in learning rather than a passive setting.
A well-considered environment can stretch thinking, invite collaboration, offer challenge, and provoke curiosity. This is the power of the environment as a third teacher - it influences; it does not instruct. It is dynamic, evolving and does not try to express simplicity but instead it celebrates the complexity involved in learning.
Reimagining the Environment
I have found myself questioning some traditional ideas over the years in my own practice, and I invite you into these often inherited ways of viewing the environment - maybe its time to rethink?
1. From 'toys on tables' to multimodal ways of engaging. It is not the toy that creates learning; it is the opportunity to explore an idea through many materials, resources, and modes at once. Investigating fish through observing the fish tank, using microscopes, painting and other materials we might find to support this exploration offers children far more entry points than a single resource ever could. Open-ended materials are intelligent in this way - they hold space for many uses, not one.
2. Designing by ideas, not learning areas. For decades, environments have been carved into fixed learning areas - block corner, home corner, art table - each simply a container where those resources are gathered. What if, instead, we designed around the big ideas children are curious about - not their surface interests, but ideas connected to deeper concepts like connection, growth, or change? We then start to think differently about the range of materials and resources that might support children's experiential learning, letting the idea - not the resource alone - lead the way.
3. Must we always pack up - leaving some areas 'in process'. Resetting the room every day so everything starts “fresh” denies children the time to return to the same experience again and again - its only through this return (and the interactions of an attuned intentional educator) that children can deepen their experience and understanding. Children seek mastery, and mastery requires return visits. Constant novelty can push educators into supervisory, managing modes which always limit meaningful conversation. The environment need not always be new to be engaging. Sometimes the most generous thing we can offer is continuity - letting an idea develop, undisturbed, evolving over time.
4. Making thinking visible, not just making learning finished. Documentation has often become synonymous with the polished display - telling those who have time to read it what learning happened, or dare I say it, what children did today. Carol Anne Wien writes about educators “going public” with what they document - and there is something worth sitting with in that phrase. What we choose to make visible, and what we leave unsaid, is itself a statement of value. What if we elevated the process of thinking with children over time, and invited teams to gather data that is surprising or unexpected, rather than data that simply confirms what we already believed? When we engage with documentation as a pedagogical strategy for listening and valuing children's play, it becomes about the raw, organic beauty of children's perspectives being made visible - unpolished, unfinished, and all the more honest for it.
Rethinking what we have always done is never easy. It's challenging to change a lifetime of practice and thinking. I think it's time we learn to sit more comfortably with the messiness of play and learning, and to advocate - through dialogue, reflection, and documentation - the value we see.
Welcoming Environments
The Early Years Learning Framework (EYLF v2.0, 2022) reminds us that:
“Learning environments are welcoming spaces when they reflect and enrich the lives and identities of children and families participating in the program.”
A welcoming environment is not simply clean, tidy, and well-resourced - it reflects the children in front of us: their languages, cultures, families, and ways of being. It holds up a mirror in which children can see themselves, and a window through which they can glimpse the experiences of others.
This means the environment cannot be “set and forget", nor is it a show home. An environment resourced beautifully but left static over weeks or months does not reflect the evolving identities of play and relationships of the children within it. When we attend closely to the environment along with childrens idea's, we begin to see it not as fixed, but as alive - responsive to children, shaped by educators, and connected to the intentional learning context we are building together.
This aliveness comes from educators who are noticing, and adjusting the environment by: arranging, organising and adding (or taking away) materials and resources according to what they notice and plan. This is done in timely ways so children's play is sustained. When environments are fixed and do not evolve accordingly children become bored, restless and disengaged. We can all appreciate the impact this can have on the overal climate and culture for learning.
From Simplicity to Complexity

The evolution of the environment speaks to the purposeful strategies implemented over time that eventually gather complexity, richness and depth. These strategies often reflect a teaching team's commitment with children to:
● Care and responsibility
● Tidying and resetting
● Real materials
● Challenge and engagement
A space that begins simply - a few beautiful, well-chosen materials, function, minimal clutter, clear intentionality - gives children room to engage freely and experimentally. From that foundation, complexity gains momentum: a collection of wooden blocks becomes, over weeks, a small world with fabric and natural materials, small gems, and reference books, as educators notice a growing idea emerge in construction and storytelling.
Introducing a highly complex environment from the outset can overwhelm rather than invite, and risks reflecting the educator's aesthetic preferences more than children's authentic ideas and sense of belonging. Complexity gained slowly, through observation and relationship, is far more meaningful than complexity imposed all at once.
Listening as a Professional Practice
If spaces speak, listening to them is a professional skill worth developing. This kind of listening asks educators to step back and observe their environment as if seeing it for the first time: crouching down to view the room from a child's eye level, or sitting quietly for ten minutes, watching where children gather, avoid, linger, and rush through.
Some questions worth sitting with:
Does our environment reflect our pedagogical values - how?
Whose culture, language, and family life are visible here - and whose are absent?
Where does the environment offer choice, and where does it offer control disguised as choice?
How does the environment invite a dialogue about the ideas being explored? Or does it simply state what children will learn?
These are not questions with tidy, one-time answers - they are questions to return to again and again, because both children and environments are always in motion just as our own ideas evolve over time.
A Living Conversation
The learning environment asks something of us beyond resourcing and room arrangement. It asks for presence - to notice, reflect, and respond, not once, but continually, as an ongoing act of relationship rather than a task to be completed. When we see our spaces as active participants in children's learning everything shifts. The symbols of children, the glue guns on the shelf, the sign inviting shoes off at the door - these small details are not incidental and instead are intentional, purposeful expressions of what we believe about children, learning, and possibility.
The environment is always speaking.
What does your's say?
If you are curious to engage in professional learning and learn more about design, inquiry and the environment we welcome your participation at our online or face to face courses.

































I nodded the whole time I read this. In my practice I am so blessed to let the environment (the garden) be the teacher and set the tone for the learning. This is possible inside too. Less restricted areas and movement of materials so that more of a flow is achievable. We just have to push back on the packer-up-erers.