Suspended Intrusions: Things that hang from ceilings and other clutter chronicles

The beginning of a new year often lends itself to making changes to the learning environment, indeed it is often something that educators might look forward to at the start of a new year -the opportunity to ‘change the room’. 

The design of the physical early learning environment is either an impactful opportunity or a missed one, and a thoughtfully designed space can spark curiosity, engagement and support relationships, while a cluttered, messy one can stifle potential and limit relational pedagogy. 

During a visit to Reggio Emilia in early 2020, a local offered me a piece of advice that left a lasting impression: “Always look up.” By shifting my gaze upward as I wandered the city, I discovered intricate gargoyles, bell towers, and vibrant frescoes—details that would have gone unnoticed had I kept my focus at eye level. This idea of “looking up” has stayed with me, particularly when I visit early learning environments and now when I enter these spaces I instinctively look up. I often do not like what I see.

One feature of early learning environments that has consistently puzzled me throughout my career is the assortment of items we hang from ceilings—sticks, fabric, artwork, birthday charts, family photos, and more. 

What is the purpose of things that hang from ceilings? Who are they for? If the answer is children, I would argue that these hangings hold little value. Not only are they often placed at a height that makes them inaccessible and difficult for children to see, but they also rarely connect meaningfully to the curriculum or support children’s relationships with both space and architecture.

Hanging a stick from the ceiling is not nature pedagogy

These, what I like to call ‘suspended intrusions,’ warrant scrutiny. While often introduced with the intent to enhance aesthetics, these elements rarely fulfill a meaningful role. 

For young children, such ‘decorations’ are typically inaccessible, visually overstimulating, or disconnected from their learning experiences. Rather than fostering engagement or curiosity, they often contribute to sensory overload, disrupting the sense of calm necessary for focus, exploration, and meaningful interactions.

The relationship between architecture, space and pedagogy are ideas that for me are deeply rooted in the Reggio Emilia Project where educators have positioned the learning environment as a key protagonist in quality early childhood education. Educators in Reggio Emilia regard the environment as “the third teacher,” recognising it as a vital source of educational pedagogy, provocation and insight.

These thoughtfully designed spaces reflect careful consideration by adults about the quality and intentionality of the environment. The design of the environment reflects a continuous dialogue between pedagogy and space, a relationship that profoundly influences how children learn and interact within their surroundings. 

Carla Rinaldi encourages us to “think of the environment not as a shell but as a skin – how does it change with those in it? How is it nourished?” (Rinaldi, 2013, p28). This perspective of viewing space as a skin—a living, responsive organism—is useful. It reimagines the learning environment as a dynamic entity, shaped by and shaping the individuals within it. Framing the space in this way highlights its role as a beating pulse, continually evolving to reflect the interactions, growth, and energy of those who inhabit it.

The aesthetics of a space—its materials and design, play a crucial role in facilitating interactions, fostering learning and supporting relationships. Loris Malaguzzi captured this idea beautifully when he says: “We think that space has to be a sort of aquarium that mirrors the ideas, values, attitudes, and culture of the people who live in it.” (Gandini 1991, p 5). 

This idea of an aquarium is a useful one. What ideas, values, or culture does your aquarium reflect?

A thoughtfully curated learning environment communicates to children, “This is a space for you.” It fosters growth, exploration, and creativity by prioritising elements that enhance the learning process. When educators carefully consider every aspect of the environment, they demonstrate respect for children’s potential as learners and the relational aspects of learning and development.

While decorative elements like ceiling hangings may initially seem appealing, they rarely offer meaningful educational value in early childhood spaces. By adopting a more minimalist and intentional approach, educators can create environments that are both a visual and sensory feast yet also deeply relational. Such spaces not only support children’s learning and development but also reflect the values and aspirations of the learning community they represent.

Could 2025 be the year we prioritise design with intention? 

References

Gandini, L. (1991). Not just anywhere: Making child care centers into “particular” places. Exchange, (March/April), 5–8. Gandini, L. (1991). Not just anywhere: Making child care centers into “particular” places. Exchange, (March/April), 5–8.

Rinaldi, C. (2013). Re-imagining childhood: The inspiration of Reggio Emilia education principles in South Australia. Adelaide Thinker in Residence 2012–2013. Department of the Premier and Cabinet, Government of South Australia.