The following is an “internet story”. I researched to find the origins of it but wasn’t able to do so. The story exemplifies what happens at Acton Academy every day and why we deeply believe in learner-driven education. When you allow learners to explore, their imagination and interests can take them in places that will amaze us.

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I taught Pre-K at the time, and one boy, Jacob, and his mother would often come into the classroom in the morning with their dog. The children loved petting and greeting Jacob's dog.

On this particular day, Amelia, a small, slight 4 year-old with dark short hair and pale skin, tugged at my shirt. "Mrs. Haughey!" she said in her small, high voice through tears. "My mom says I will never get to have a dog or any pet."

I hugged her and comforted her deep disappointment. Several other children told Amelia they could not have a pet as well, while other students shared they did have a pet. Soon the classroom was abuzz with the discussion of pets.

As school ended that day, I wished her and her classmates a good afternoon. She gave me a hug and whispered, "When I grow up I will have a pet." I smiled as she ran off to her mom.

The next day was bright and sunny, another beautiful spring day. The windows of the classroom were open, letting the warm Tulsa breeze fill the room, as the children scampered in, too.

"Mrs. Haughey! Quick! I have an exciting show-n-share!" Amelia's voice was louder than normal.

We gathered on the carpet to see what Amelia had to share. She pulled out a large matchbox that she held tenderly, yet with the firmness of a guardian protecting a valuable treasure.

Slowly she slid open the matchbox. Her eyes sparkled. "I have my own pet!" she exclaimed, beaming.

Inside the matchbox, lying on a carefully folded kleenex, was an earthworm.

Other little bits of paper lay next to the worm. Amelia picked up one of the papers. "This is a TV," she explained. "And this," she said, picking up another square of paper, "is a blanket for naptime."

The children were captivated by Amelia's new pet. "What is the worm's name?" Sarah asked. Amelia smiled. "Willy, of course!"

At recess, Amelia carried Willy, in his box, out to the playground so she and her friends could show her pet the things they loved to do most. Willy was given a ride down the slides, swings and monkey bars.

As Amelia left that day, she gave me an extra-long hug. "Thank you for bringing Willy today," I said. Again, she beamed. It was Friday, and she was looking forward to a fun weekend with her new pet.

About a week later, I had all but forgotten about little Willy. The morning the air was crisp, and spring was in full force with tulips bursting out my classroom window, as the room again filled with the sound of tiny footsteps.

Suddenly, I felt a tug at my shirt again. "Mrs. Haughey," a tiny voice trembled earnestly. I looked down to see Amelia in tears.  "What's wrong?" I asked. "Mrs. Haughey, I found out that Willy needs water." She opened her matchbox to reveal a dried-up worm.

My heart sank. I wondered if last week I should have explained the life of a worm and what they need to survive. Should I have told her Willy could not watch TV? That he didn’t need a pillow, or a blanket?

Amelia, through her interest in having her own pet, had been incredibly resourceful in "adopting" Willy and creating a "home" for the little worm. How could I best support her in this moment?

Pulling from my experience using the Project Approach, I quickly decided to give her access to discovering what worms needed, in her own way and time.

"Amelia," I asked, "Would you like to go to the school library for me and get books on worms like Willy? I would love to know what we need to do in case you adopt another earthworm."

Amelia’s interest was sparked once again. Over the next week, she led the charge for the entire class to build a worm farm. She shared her discoveries with us, and before we knew it, we had a box full of Willies. By early May, we had moved into the fascination of how worms help our soil, and had built a small garden outside our classroom.

The curriculum in the classroom that spring was built upon the hearts of the children. Amelia's interest, although marked by her disappointment at losing her first "pet," ultimately led us all into one of the most vibrant investigations of my teaching career.

This leads us to today’s Play Truth:

The true curriculum is the child.

Honoring children as partners in the educational journey opens the opportunity to build a deeply moving curriculum that emerges from the raw material of love.

That day in the classroom, I could have dismissed Amelia's disappointment. It was "only" an earthworm, after all. I could have simply hugged her and told her, "Of course worms need water," and assumed she would move on.

Instead I honored her ideas, her theories about her "pet," and her interest in earthworms.

I am not sure what I would do if I could go back to the first moment I was introduced to Willy the earthworm.

But I am confident Amelia's yearning for her own pet unleashed a deep interest in the world of what worms really do. Even more than that, it unleashed an interest in ecosystems, in nature, and perhaps even in the miracle of life itself, for an entire classroom of pre-K students (and their teacher!).

As educators we can step over the silly ideas, dreams, and theories of children -- or we can honor the raw material of human yearning.

Pure interest arises out of desire and yearning. The ten month old crawls to the ball out of an interest driven by a yearning -- for independence, for sensory stimulation, for fun and play. That yearning continues to drive interest throughout all of the developmental stages.

Rather than following a rigid curriculum that denies the child’s natural interests, as Wonder Warriors we have the opportunity to let the CHILD be a part of the curriculum -- and indeed, to inform the curriculum itself.

This week, pay close attention to what interests the children in your care.

Let their interests guide your curriculum, as much as the curriculum guides the class.

Let WONDER be a co-teacher in your learning environment!

Learner-Driven education is about the child. The curriculum is the child. When you let learners driven their education, it leads to deep learning and deep learning leads to mastery.