The bottom line: While some learning regression occurs during extended breaks, research shows that experiential and outdoor learning activities maintain academic momentum far more effectively than traditional “catch-up” methods, without sacrificing the rest children need.

Your child just returned from winter break. Two weeks away from school. Maybe they spent those days sleeping in, gaming with friends, building snow forts, visiting family. Maybe they didn’t touch a single textbook or worksheet.

And now you’re wondering: did they forget everything they learned in the first semester?

The answer is complicated. Yes, learning loss during breaks is real. Research confirms it. But here’s what most parents don’t know: the typical response to this problem actually makes things worse.

Drilling multiplication tables over hot chocolate. Assigning practice problems between holiday parties. Forcing reading logs alongside gift unwrapping. These interventions feel productive. They’re visible. Measurable. They give parents the sense they’re doing something to prevent the dreaded “slide.”

But they miss something fundamental about how children actually learn and retain information. And they sacrifice something precious: the mental restoration that breaks are supposed to provide.

What research actually shows about winter learning loss

The concept seems straightforward enough. Students spend months building skills and knowledge. Then they take time away from formal instruction. When they return, they’ve regressed. Teachers spend weeks reteaching material. Everyone starts behind.

This pattern, commonly called learning loss or regression, has been documented across various contexts. Research from multiple studies confirms that some students do experience measurable skill loss during extended breaks from instruction, particularly in procedural subjects like mathematics.

However, the research is far more nuanced than the headlines suggest.

Studies using different assessment methods produce wildly different results about the extent and nature of learning loss. Some standardized tests show substantial regression after breaks. Others show virtually none. The variability suggests that what we measure, how we measure it, and when we measure it all significantly impact what we find.

What we know with reasonable confidence: math skills, particularly procedural computation, are more susceptible to regression than reading comprehension. Younger students typically show less dramatic losses than older ones. Students from different socioeconomic backgrounds experience varying degrees of impact, with disparities often widening during breaks.

But here’s what gets missed in most discussions of learning loss: the regression isn’t inevitable. It’s not some universal law that children’s brains automatically erase knowledge during time away from formal schooling.

The loss happens primarily when specific conditions are met: complete disconnection from any activities that exercise the relevant cognitive skills, extended periods of passive entertainment rather than active engagement, and absence of experiential learning opportunities that naturally incorporate academic concepts.

In other words, it’s not the break itself that causes regression. It’s what happens during the break.

Consider two scenarios. In the first, a child spends winter break primarily on screens, with minimal physical activity, few conversations requiring complex thought, and no engagement with activities involving problem-solving or creativity. In the second, a child spends break hiking with family, cooking meals together, reading books they chose, building projects, exploring museums, engaging in outdoor play.

Both children took a break from formal schooling. But their brains had vastly different experiences. The first truly became passive during the break. The second remained cognitively active, just in different contexts.

Research on outdoor and experiential learning demonstrates something crucial: learning doesn’t only happen in classrooms, and cognitive development doesn’t require worksheets. In fact, studies indicate that outdoor learning significantly enhances children’s cognitive, linguistic, and motor skills, with outdoor activities particularly effective when they arise from children’s own ideas and interests.

This matters enormously for understanding winter learning loss. The question isn’t whether children should engage their minds during breaks. The question is how.

Why traditional ‘catch-up’ methods often backfire

When parents discover their child might experience learning loss during winter break, the intuitive response is to impose additional academic work. Workbooks. Flashcards. Practice problems. Tutoring sessions. Keep drilling those skills so they don’t disappear.

This approach feels logical. If disuse causes regression, then continued use should prevent it. Simple.

Except it doesn’t work that way. At least, not sustainably.

First, the practical problem: compliance. Children resist. They’re on break. They see their friends playing. They want rest. Forcing academic work during time they understand as vacation creates conflict, resentment, and often, incomplete effort. Parents spend energy enforcing something children perform halfheartedly.

More importantly, this approach fundamentally misunderstands motivation and learning retention.

Research on intrinsic motivation shows that when learning feels externally imposed, particularly during time designated for rest, it actually undermines the natural drive to engage with challenging material. The worksheets assigned over break become associated with obligation rather than curiosity. The practice problems feel like punishment rather than growth opportunities.

Children learn to view intellectual engagement as something forced upon them by adults rather than something arising from their own questions and interests. This damages their relationship with learning itself.

Additionally, the traditional catch-up method ignores something essential about how our brains consolidate learning. We need periods of rest. We need time away from intensive focus. Our minds require space for what psychologists call “diffuse mode thinking,” where our brains make connections and consolidate information without direct conscious effort.

Constant drilling doesn’t just fail to prevent regression. It prevents the mental restoration that actually supports deeper learning when formal schooling resumes.

There’s also the content problem. Most worksheet-based practice focuses on procedural skills, isolated from meaningful contexts. A child drills multiplication facts divorced from any purpose beyond getting the right answer. They read passages followed by comprehension questions, disconnected from genuine curiosity about the content.

This type of practice does little to address the actual mechanisms of learning loss. Skills fade when they’re not used in authentic contexts. Practicing them in artificial contexts, devoid of meaning or purpose, doesn’t transfer effectively to retention in real-world application.

Here’s what we see repeatedly in educational settings: students who spend breaks engaged in genuine, meaningful activities that naturally incorporate academic skills retain knowledge far better than students who complete assigned academic exercises.

A child who cooks with family and adjusts recipe quantities practices math more effectively than a child drilling fractions on worksheets. A child who explores nature and documents observations engages scientific thinking more deeply than a child completing multiple-choice questions about the scientific method.

The difference isn’t just about engagement, though that matters. It’s about how our brains encode and retrieve information. We remember what matters to us. We retain skills we use for purposes we care about. We forget isolated procedures practiced solely because adults demanded it.

Active learning vs passive review: what actually works

If traditional worksheets don’t prevent learning loss, what does?

The answer lies in understanding the distinction between active and passive engagement with knowledge.

Passive review involves consuming information without significantly processing or applying it. Reading a textbook chapter. Watching an educational video. Completing fill-in-the-blank exercises. The student receives information but doesn’t do much with it cognitively.

Active learning requires the student to think with the material. To apply concepts in new contexts. To solve authentic problems. To create something. To explain their understanding. To make connections. To wrestle with challenges.

Research consistently demonstrates that active learning produces better retention and transfer than passive review. And crucially, active learning during breaks doesn’t feel like “school work” to children, which means they’re more likely to engage willingly.

On our 143-acre campus in Metchosin, we watch this principle unfold daily. Students don’t learn science by reading about ecosystems. They hike through the forest backing onto our school, observe actual organisms in actual habitats, ask questions arising from genuine curiosity, and investigate answers through hands-on exploration.

This experiential approach doesn’t just make learning more engaging, though it does. It fundamentally changes how knowledge becomes embedded in memory. When students learn through direct experience, their brains encode information in rich, multi-sensory contexts that support later retrieval.

Studies confirm that outdoor learning provides opportunities for students to practice skills related to cognitive development, including curiosity, imagination, and creative thinking. These contexts also increase engagement and motivation for learning, with benefits continuing when students return to indoor settings.

For winter break, this means: look for activities that naturally incorporate academic skills through authentic application rather than contrived practice.

Mathematics appears everywhere in daily life. Cooking involves measurement, fractions, ratios, temperature monitoring, timing. Building anything requires spatial reasoning, estimation, problem-solving. Games involve strategy, probability, pattern recognition. Shopping requires budgeting, comparison, calculation.

Reading happens naturally when children have access to materials they actually want to read. Not assigned books with comprehension worksheets attached. But graphic novels, magazines about their interests, instructions for projects they want to complete, research for questions they’re genuinely curious about.

Scientific thinking emerges from exploring the physical world. Watching how snow melts. Observing bird behavior. Wondering how things work and investigating. Creating simple experiments. Noticing patterns in nature.

The key isn’t that these activities deliberately target specific learning standards. The key is that they keep minds active, engaged with complex thinking, applying skills in meaningful contexts.

Research on cognitive development shows that spending time in nature alone has measurable benefits for attention, memory, and learning. Studies indicate that outdoor education has the potential to improve how children retain learning and increase students’ ability to transfer learning to everyday situations, with even brief contact with nature producing positive effects on cognitive performance.

Experiential learning opportunities that don’t feel like work

The most effective strategies for maintaining academic momentum during winter break share a common characteristic: they don’t feel like academic interventions to children. They feel like interesting activities worth doing for their own sake.

This matters because intrinsic motivation drives sustained engagement. When children want to do something, they invest cognitive energy fully. When they’re forced to do something, they invest the minimum required.

So what kinds of experiences maintain cognitive engagement without feeling like assigned schoolwork?

Anything involving building or making. Construction projects. Crafts. Cooking. Art. Model building. Woodworking if available. These activities require planning, problem-solving, spatial reasoning, following sequences, adjusting when things don’t work. All of this exercises cognitive skills while producing something the child values.

We see this constantly in our programs. Students working in our Exploration Lab with 3D printers, laser cutters, and CNC routers aren’t thinking “I’m practicing math and engineering.” They’re thinking “I want to create this thing.” But the cognitive work happening is substantial and directly supports academic skills.

Physical activities, particularly outdoors. The research is clear: physical activity supports cognitive function. Movement increases blood flow to the brain, improves attention, reduces stress, and enhances learning. Outdoor activity adds additional benefits through exposure to natural environments.

Winter hiking. Skating. Skiing. Sledding. Building snow structures. These aren’t just recreation. They’re cognitive maintenance disguised as fun. Children navigate terrain, assess risk, problem-solve, collaborate, and engage in the kind of embodied learning that supports abstract thinking.

Our campus location in Metchosin provides daily opportunities for this kind of learning. Students hiking through forest trails down to Witty’s Lagoon aren’t on a break from education. They’re engaged in education through different means. Their bodies and minds remain active, curious, engaged.

Activities requiring social interaction and collaboration. Games, both board games and outdoor games. Group projects. Collaborative problem-solving. These experiences develop communication skills, strategic thinking, perspective-taking, and cooperation, all of which support academic success.

Multi-age interactions particularly support cognitive development, which is why our mixed-age classrooms create natural mentorship opportunities. Younger children observe older ones demonstrating complex thinking. Older children consolidate their understanding by explaining concepts to younger ones.

Exploration of genuine interests. Perhaps most importantly, breaks offer time for children to dive deeply into topics they care about without the constraints of formal curriculum. A child fascinated by marine life can spend hours researching, watching documentaries, drawing, reading. A child interested in coding can work through tutorials. A child curious about history can visit museums or historical sites.

These aren’t “educational activities” in the conventional sense. They’re the child following their natural curiosity. But this kind of self-directed exploration develops research skills, sustained attention, depth of knowledge, and most crucially, the understanding that learning is something you do because it’s interesting, not something imposed by others.

Research demonstrates that when outdoor activities arise from children’s own ideas and interests, they particularly support learning and development. The same principle applies more broadly: authentic engagement with topics children care about produces better cognitive outcomes than forced engagement with topics chosen by adults.

How outdoor education maintains academic momentum

There’s something specific about outdoor learning that makes it particularly effective for maintaining cognitive engagement during breaks.

It’s not just that outdoor activities keep children physically active, though that matters. It’s that outdoor environments naturally present complex, ever-changing stimuli that require sustained attention, problem-solving, and adaptive thinking.

Consider what happens cognitively when a child explores a forest. They navigate irregular terrain, requiring spatial reasoning and motor planning. They notice details, developing observational skills. They encounter problems to solve: how to cross a stream, where to climb, what’s making that sound. They engage in creative, imaginative play using natural materials. They collaborate with others if in a group.

All of this cognitive work happens without any adult needing to assign it. The environment itself provides the stimulus.

Research confirms these benefits. Studies show that outdoor learning enhances children’s cognitive, linguistic, and motor skills significantly. Outdoor environments inspire cognitive, constructive, and sociodramatic play. Time spent in nature reduces stress while improving concentration and attention, which in turn supports learning when children return to more structured academic settings.

The benefits aren’t just immediate. They transfer. Research indicates that outdoor play and outdoor lessons positively impact subsequent indoor learning, decreasing stress and increasing focus, attention, motivation, and engagement with material. In other words, time spent learning outdoors makes students better indoor learners as well.

This has profound implications for preventing winter learning loss. Rather than keeping children indoors doing worksheets to maintain academic skills, getting them outside engaged in active exploration may be more effective for cognitive maintenance.

Our school’s location makes this particularly accessible. Students spend significant time outdoors year-round, including during winter months. They’re not just out for recess. They’re learning through direct engagement with the natural environment. Studying coastal ecology by actually observing tidal patterns. Understanding weather systems by experiencing them. Learning about plant biology through hands-on interaction.

This isn’t recreation separate from education. This is education through different means. And importantly, it’s the kind of education that doesn’t stop just because formal schooling pauses for break.

Parents don’t need a 143-acre campus to provide similar experiences. Local parks. Nature reserves. Even backyard exploration. Winter walks. Watching wildlife. Building with snow. Observing ice formation. These activities cost nothing and provide rich cognitive engagement.

The research shows what we observe: children who maintain regular outdoor activity during breaks return to school with better attention, lower stress, and stronger engagement with academic material. Their brains haven’t been idle. They’ve been active in ways that support all types of learning.

Building learning habits that last beyond break

The deepest problem with the traditional approach to preventing learning loss is that it treats winter break as an exceptional period requiring special intervention. Two weeks away from school becomes a crisis requiring emergency measures.

This framing misses an opportunity.

What if breaks weren’t viewed as threats to learning but as opportunities to develop sustainable habits that support lifelong learning? What if instead of trying to replicate school at home during vacation, families used break time to establish patterns of authentic engagement with knowledge?

The research on learning and motivation suggests this would be far more valuable. Children who develop intrinsic curiosity, who experience learning as something that happens throughout life rather than only in school buildings, who build habits of exploring questions and solving real problems, these children don’t experience significant regression during breaks. Their learning doesn’t stop when formal instruction pauses because their learning isn’t dependent on formal instruction.

This is what we mean when we talk about “education for the future before us.” We’re not just teaching content. We’re developing learners. People who know how to be curious, how to investigate questions, how to learn from experience, how to think critically about problems.

Students who develop these capacities don’t need remediation after winter break. They return to school having learned continuously, just in different contexts.

Parents can support this during breaks through some simple practices. First, model curiosity yourself. Wonder aloud about things. Investigate questions that arise. Show that learning is something adults do continuously, not something that ended when you finished school.

Second, create an environment that supports exploration. Access to books, materials for creating and building, opportunities for outdoor activity. Not elaborate or expensive. Just present.

Third, allow unstructured time. Not every moment needs to be scheduled or directed. Children need space to follow their interests, to become bored and then discover what interests them, to develop their own projects.

Fourth, engage in activities together that naturally involve learning. Cook together. Explore together. Build something together. Play games together. Have conversations about things that interest your child.

None of this looks like “preventing learning loss.” None of it involves worksheets or structured academic practice. But all of it maintains cognitive engagement, develops thinking skills, and most importantly, reinforces the understanding that learning is something interesting and valuable rather than something you do only because adults require it.

Over 67 years of working with students from Early Years through High School, we’ve observed that the students who thrive long-term aren’t necessarily those who received the most intensive academic drilling. They’re the ones who developed genuine curiosity, who learned to engage deeply with questions they care about, who understand themselves as capable learners.

These habits don’t develop through forced practice during winter break. They develop through years of experiencing learning as meaningful, engaging, and connected to real life.

The balance between learning and necessary rest

All of this discussion about maintaining cognitive engagement during breaks might suggest that children shouldn’t truly rest during winter vacation. That breaks should be continuous educational programming, just delivered differently.

That’s not the point. Rest matters.

Our brains need downtime. Students need recovery from the demands of formal schooling. They need time without schedules, deadlines, assessments, external evaluation. They need space to play, to be bored, to daydream, to do nothing in particular.

This isn’t wasted time. This is essential for wellbeing and, ironically, for learning itself.

Research on cognitive function shows that our brains consolidate learning during rest periods. That diffuse-mode thinking mentioned earlier happens when we’re not actively trying to learn something. Our minds make connections, integrate information, and strengthen memories when we’re relaxed rather than intensively focused.

So the goal isn’t to replace school with an equally demanding program of educational activities during break. The goal is to maintain a baseline of cognitive engagement while allowing genuine rest.

Think of it as the difference between complete sedentary behavior and light, enjoyable physical activity. If someone spends two weeks doing absolutely nothing physical, their fitness declines. But that doesn’t mean they need intensive workout sessions every day during vacation. Light activity, enjoyable movement, things that keep the body generally active without demanding extreme exertion. That maintains baseline fitness while still providing rest.

The same principle applies to cognitive engagement. Complete mental passivity for two weeks, consuming entertainment without ever thinking deeply about anything, will result in some regression. But that doesn’t require intensive academic work every day. Light cognitive engagement, activities that naturally involve thinking without feeling like work, things that maintain baseline mental activity while still providing rest.

Our approach balances engagement with restoration. Students spend significant time outdoors, which research shows reduces stress and improves wellbeing while simultaneously supporting cognitive function. They have unstructured time. They play. They rest.

But they remain embedded in environments that naturally provoke curiosity and thinking. The forest behind our school doesn’t stop being interesting during winter. Questions still arise. Exploration still happens. Just in a more relaxed, self-directed way.

Parents can replicate this balance at home during winter break. Don’t schedule every hour. Allow genuine rest and recovery. But also ensure children have access to experiences that naturally engage their minds. The two aren’t contradictory. They’re complementary.

A day that includes sleeping late, leisurely family breakfast, time for screens, outdoor play, reading for pleasure, helping cook dinner, and playing board games provides both rest and cognitive engagement. Nothing on that list feels like academic work. But the child’s mind remains active, thinking, learning.

This balanced approach addresses the legitimate concern about learning loss without sacrificing the restoration that breaks are meant to provide. And crucially, it models something important: that intellectual engagement isn’t a burden to be endured but a natural part of a full, interesting life.

Your child just returned from winter break. Maybe they didn’t open a textbook. Maybe they spent the time playing, exploring, resting. Maybe you’re worried about how much they forgot.

Here’s a different way to think about it: if they spent break physically active, engaged with interesting projects, exploring outdoors, reading things they chose, helping with real tasks, and having time to genuinely rest, they didn’t lose ground. They stayed engaged with learning through authentic experiences that support long-term cognitive development better than worksheets ever could.

The goal isn’t to make winter break feel like school. The goal is to recognize that meaningful learning happens everywhere, all the time, when children remain curious and engaged with the world around them.

That’s not learning loss prevention. That’s education.

Most kids abandon their New Year’s resolutions by February. Here’s how to set learning goals that actually last, and why letting your child lead matters more than you think.

The bottom line: When children set their own learning goals based on genuine interests rather than external pressure, they develop intrinsic motivation that sustains them throughout the year and beyond. Research shows autonomy in goal-setting creates more persistent, engaged learners.

It’s mid-January. The resolution lists are already crumpled in desk drawers. Your child swore they’d read 50 books this year. Practice piano daily. Finally master multiplication tables. Get straight A’s.

Now? Three books down. Piano untouched since January 4th. Multiplication still fuzzy. And nobody wants to talk about those grades anymore.

Sound familiar?

Here’s what most families don’t realize: educational resolutions fail for the same reason most adult resolutions fail. They’re imposed from the outside, driven by “should” instead of genuine desire, and focused on outcomes rather than the actual experience of learning. They’re about becoming someone else’s version of a good student rather than discovering who your child actually is as a learner.

The irony? The failure isn’t about willpower or discipline or your child’s character. It’s about how we’re setting these goals in the first place.

Why most educational resolutions fail (and what to do instead)

Walk into any school in early January and you’ll see it everywhere. Goal-setting worksheets. SMART goal posters. Kids dutifully writing down objectives that sound suspiciously similar across the entire classroom.

“I will get better grades in math.” “I will read more books.” “I will try harder.”

These goals check all the conventional boxes. They’re specific, measurable, even time-bound. But they’re missing something crucial: they’re completely disconnected from what actually drives sustained learning.

Research on self-determination theory shows that humans have three basic psychological needs that fuel intrinsic motivation: autonomy, competence, and relatedness. When educational goals satisfy these needs, children naturally persist. When goals ignore these needs, even the most well-intentioned resolutions crumble within weeks.

The problem with traditional resolution-setting is that it typically violates all three. Parents and teachers choose the goals. That eliminates autonomy. The goals often feel too big or vague, making competence feel impossible to achieve. And they’re framed as individual deficits to fix rather than shared journeys with supportive adults, undermining relatedness.

Consider the difference. A parent-imposed goal of “practice piano 30 minutes daily” frames practice as an obligation, a chore to check off. But when a child decides “I want to learn the melody from that song I love,” suddenly practice becomes exploration. The external demand transforms into internal desire.

We’ve seen this pattern repeatedly in our classrooms over 67 years. Students who choose their learning paths based on genuine curiosity don’t need resolutions. They need support structures. They need environments that nurture their questions. They need adults who trust their capacity to direct their own growth.

The research backs this up. Studies on goal-setting effectiveness in children show that student-generated goals lead to greater academic success through increased awareness and accountability. When children take ownership of their learning objectives, intrinsic motivation naturally follows, prompting them to take necessary actions without external pressure.

So what’s the alternative? Instead of manufacturing goals each January, we create year-round systems that help students identify what genuinely matters to them, then build sustainable practices around those authentic interests.

Age-appropriate goal setting: what works for different learners

A five-year-old and a fifteen-year-old need fundamentally different approaches to goal-setting. Developmentally, they’re in completely different places. Their capacity for self-reflection, their understanding of time, their ability to sustain focus, all vastly different.

But here’s what doesn’t change across ages: the need for choice, the hunger for competence, and the desire to be seen as capable individuals.

For younger learners, goal-setting works best when it’s immediate, concrete, and connected to something they can touch or experience. A kindergartener doesn’t benefit from “improve reading skills this semester.” That’s abstract. Meaningless. But “I want to read the dinosaur book by myself”? That’s tangible. Motivating. Real.

In our Early Years program, we watch children naturally set goals through their choice of work. They see a material they’ve observed others using. They want to master it. The goal emerges from curiosity, not from a worksheet or adult agenda. Teachers support by ensuring the prepared environment offers appropriately challenging materials and by observing each child’s readiness.

When a three-year-old spends days practicing pouring water from one pitcher to another, they’re engaged in sophisticated goal-setting. They’ve identified a skill they want to master. They’re persisting through repeated attempts. They’re self-correcting. All without anyone telling them they should make a resolution to improve their pouring technique.

For elementary students, goal-setting becomes more sophisticated but should remain grounded in their interests. This is the age where children can begin articulating longer-term aspirations. “I want to understand how volcanoes work” or “I want to write my own chapter book.”

The key is ensuring these goals emerge from the child’s actual passions rather than what they think adults want to hear. In our Elementary program, students work with teachers to identify personal learning goals within the context of their chosen projects and studies. The multi-age classroom structure helps because younger students observe older ones pursuing complex, self-directed work, which naturally sparks their own goal formation.

One crucial element: children this age benefit from visualizing progress. Not through sticker charts or external rewards, which actually undermine intrinsic motivation, but through concrete evidence of their growing capabilities. Portfolios of their work. Journals documenting their investigations. Opportunities to share their learning with others.

For adolescents, particularly in middle and high school, goal-setting intersects with identity formation. Who am I becoming? What do I care about? What kind of person do I want to be?

These aren’t just educational questions. They’re existential ones. Which means goal-setting at this age works best when it connects academic growth to larger questions of purpose and meaning.

In our High School program, students design projects around their genuine passions and interests, meeting curriculum requirements through work that matters to them personally. A student fascinated by environmental science doesn’t just set a goal to “understand ecosystems better.” They design a project investigating local watershed health, connecting biology, chemistry, geography, and community advocacy in ways that align with who they’re becoming as a person.

Goal-setting at this level involves regular reflection, mentorship, and real-world application. Students meet with advisors to examine not just what they want to learn but why it matters to them. They articulate connections between their current work and their future aspirations. They adjust course as their interests evolve.

Research shows that adolescents need increasing autonomy as they develop. When teens generate their own learning goals within supportive structures, they demonstrate greater persistence and lower dropout rates. The key is providing enough structure to prevent overwhelm while preserving enough choice to maintain ownership.

Building intrinsic motivation: the Montessori approach to goals

There’s a fundamental question at the heart of educational goal-setting: who decides what’s worth learning?

In traditional models, adults decide. Curriculum designers, administrators, teachers, parents. They determine what knowledge matters, in what sequence, at what pace. Students receive pre-packaged learning objectives and work to meet externally imposed standards.

The Montessori approach inverts this. We believe children are born with intrinsic motivation to learn. They come into the world curious, eager to explore, naturally driven to develop competence. Our job isn’t to manufacture motivation through rewards and consequences. Our job is to protect and nurture the motivation that already exists.

This has profound implications for goal-setting.

When we prepare our environments carefully, filling them with materials and opportunities that connect to children’s developmental needs and interests, goals emerge organically. A child doesn’t need to resolve to “work on fine motor skills.” They see the practical life materials in the classroom, beautiful objects that invite interaction, and they naturally engage. The goal forms through attraction rather than obligation.

We’ve watched this unfold for over six decades on our 143-acre campus in Metchosin. Students don’t trudge through required work because external adults demand it. They pursue knowledge because they’re genuinely curious. A student studying coastal ecology isn’t checking a science requirement off a list. They’re hiking through the forest behind our school down to Witty’s Lagoon, observing tidal patterns, asking questions that matter to them personally.

This is why conventional goal-setting so often fails. It treats motivation as something that needs to be created through external means: rewards, grades, approval, consequences. But research on self-determination theory demonstrates that these external motivators actually undermine the intrinsic drive that already exists.

Studies show that when learning environments foster autonomy rather than control, student engagement and performance increase significantly. When children feel they’re learning because they choose to, not because they must, everything changes. Persistence increases. Creativity flourishes. The learning becomes sustainable.

The three elements that support intrinsic motivation matter more than any resolution list:

Autonomy: Children need genuine choice in their learning. Not false choice between predetermined options, but real agency to explore topics that fascinate them, to work at their own pace, to pursue questions they generate themselves.

In our classrooms, students choose their work within carefully prepared environments. Teachers observe, offer guidance, provide appropriate challenges. But the direction comes from the learner. This autonomy doesn’t mean chaos. It means structure that serves the child’s development rather than convenience for adults.

Competence: Children need to feel capable. They need appropriately challenging work that stretches them without overwhelming them. They need opportunities to see their own growth, to experience the satisfaction of mastery.

We support competence through multi-age classrooms where younger students observe older ones demonstrating sophisticated work. Through materials designed to offer built-in feedback rather than adult judgment. Through projects where students can demonstrate learning in ways that showcase their unique strengths.

Relatedness: Children need to feel connected to a community that values their contributions. They need relationships with adults who see them as complete, capable individuals rather than deficits to fix.

Every member of our community is valued and treated with kindness and compassion. Students understand they’re part of interconnected communities where everyone has individual needs but also contributes to the greater whole. This sense of belonging sustains motivation even through challenging periods.

When these three needs are met, you don’t need New Year’s resolutions. You have year-round learners who set and pursue goals as naturally as they breathe.

The role of choice and autonomy in student success

Picture two scenarios.

Scenario one: A parent announces at dinner, “You’re going to read 30 minutes every night this semester. No exceptions. I’m setting a timer.”

Scenario two: A parent asks, “I noticed you loved that graphic novel series. Want to explore the library together this weekend and find what you want to read next?”

Same general objective: increase reading. Radically different approaches to autonomy.

In the first scenario, reading becomes compliance. An obligation enforced through external authority. Even if the child complies initially, research suggests this approach actually decreases intrinsic motivation over time. Reading transforms from potential pleasure to required task.

In the second scenario, the parent supports the child’s existing interest, offers resources, but preserves choice. The child maintains agency over what they read, when, and how. Reading remains associated with pleasure and discovery rather than control.

The difference isn’t semantic. It’s fundamental to how humans develop sustained motivation.

When children experience autonomy in their learning, they develop what researchers call “self-directed learning” capabilities. They learn to assess their own progress, identify areas where they want to grow, seek out resources, and persist through challenges. These are the exact skills that matter most for lifelong success.

Consider what happens in our classrooms. Elementary students working on long-term projects have significant autonomy over how they approach their work. They choose which aspects to investigate first. They determine whether they want to work independently or collaborate. They decide how to present their findings. Teachers provide guidance and structure, ensuring core competencies are developed, but the path belongs to the student.

This might sound chaotic to parents accustomed to traditional education. But we’ve been doing this for 67 years, and the results speak clearly. Students who develop self-directed learning habits don’t stop learning when school ends. They carry that capacity throughout their lives.

Research on autonomous learning environments confirms what we observe daily. When students have genuine choice in their educational goals and methods, they demonstrate increased engagement, better problem-solving skills, and greater persistence. The autonomy itself becomes a learning tool, teaching students to take ownership of their development.

There’s a misconception that autonomy means absence of structure or support. Actually, the opposite is true. Meaningful autonomy requires carefully prepared environments, thoughtful guidance, and supportive relationships with adults who understand child development.

In our High School program, students design projects that align with their passions while meeting curriculum requirements. They work with mentors and teachers to ensure their chosen paths develop necessary competencies. But the fundamental direction comes from the student. They’re not jumping through hoops or checking off requirements disconnected from their interests. They’re pursuing knowledge that matters to them personally, with appropriate support.

This approach to autonomy teaches something profound: you are capable of directing your own growth. You can identify what you need to learn. You can seek resources. You can persist through difficulties. You can adjust course when necessary.

These aren’t skills you develop by following someone else’s resolution list. These are skills you develop through practiced autonomy.

How to support your child’s learning goals without taking over

This is the hard part for parents. You want to help. You want your child to succeed. You see exactly what they need to do differently. And you have the power to make them do it.

Except you don’t. Not really.

You can enforce compliance. You can reward and punish. You can micromanage every assignment and practice session. But you can’t create genuine motivation from outside. That only comes from within.

So what can you do?

Start by listening more than directing. When children talk about their interests, really listen. Don’t immediately jump to how those interests could become educational goals or resume material. Just listen. Be curious about what captivates them. Ask questions that help them articulate their thinking.

“What do you love about that?” “What would you like to know more about?” “What could you do to explore that further?”

These questions invite reflection. They position you as supportive ally rather than external authority imposing objectives.

Provide resources without strings attached. If your child expresses interest in something, help them access materials, experiences, or information related to it. Don’t attach conditions. Don’t require that they produce something in return. Just support the exploration.

This might feel uncomfortable. We’re conditioned to believe children only do meaningful work under external pressure. But research and our own six decades of experience show that’s simply false. Children are naturally motivated to develop competence. When we support their interests authentically, without trying to control outcomes, that motivation flourishes.

Share your own learning journey. Talk about what you’re trying to learn. Discuss your struggles and persistence. Model the reality that learning is lifelong, often challenging, and driven by genuine interest rather than external requirements.

When children see adults as learners, not just authorities imposing learning on them, everything shifts. They understand that goal-setting and growth aren’t just “kid things” or school obligations. They’re fundamental human activities.

Ask about process, not just outcomes. Instead of “What grade did you get?” try “What did you find most interesting about that project?” Instead of “Did you practice piano?” try “Did you figure out that tricky passage you were working on?”

These questions communicate what you value. Process over product. Learning over performance. Growth over compliance.

Recognize effort and strategy, not just achievement. Research on growth mindset shows that praising effort and approach rather than innate ability helps children develop resilience and persistence. “You worked really hard on figuring out that problem” is more valuable than “You’re so smart at math.”

This matters enormously for goal-setting. Children who believe their abilities can develop through effort are more likely to set challenging goals and persist when things get difficult. Children who believe ability is fixed tend to avoid challenges that might reveal limitations.

Most importantly, trust your child’s capacity to direct their own learning. This doesn’t mean abandoning them. It means believing they’re capable of growth, offering appropriate support, and resisting the urge to control every aspect of their educational experience.

The students we work with across all age levels, from Early Years through High School, are remarkably capable when given appropriate autonomy and support. They set ambitious goals. They persist through challenges. They adjust strategies. They seek help when needed.

Not because adults force them. Because they’re intrinsically motivated to grow, and we’ve protected that natural drive by offering choice, ensuring competence-building experiences, and maintaining supportive relationships.

From resolution to habit: making learning goals last all year

The resolution itself isn’t the problem. It’s treating goal-setting as a one-time event each January rather than an ongoing practice embedded in daily life.

Sustainable goals don’t emerge from annual proclamations. They develop through consistent small choices that gradually become habits.

Think about it. Nobody successfully commits to “read more” through sheer willpower. But someone who builds a habit of reading before bed, who keeps books in every room, who visits libraries regularly, naturally reads more. The habit structure supports the goal without requiring constant conscious effort.

The same principle applies to learning goals for children.

Instead of “I’ll try harder in math,” what if the focus shifted to “I’ll spend 15 minutes each day exploring math concepts I find interesting”? Instead of “I’ll get better at writing,” what if it became “I’ll keep a journal where I write about things that matter to me”?

The difference: the first version focuses on vague outcomes. The second focuses on concrete practices that, repeated consistently, lead to growth.

In our programs, we build habit structures into the school day. Uninterrupted work periods allow students to develop concentration. Regular reflection time helps students assess their own progress. Multi-age classrooms provide consistent opportunities to observe and mentor, building leadership habits in older students and aspiration in younger ones.

These aren’t resolutions. They’re environmental designs that make sustainable learning natural rather than forced.

Parents can create similar structures at home:

Designate time and space for focused work or exploration. Not as punishment or obligation, but as protected opportunity. A corner of the house with interesting materials. A regular visit to a library, museum, or natural space. Consistent rhythms that support engagement without requiring constant negotiation.

Minimize distractions during learning time. Research shows that sustained focus develops gradually, particularly for children. Creating environments that support concentration helps build the capacity for deep engagement with challenging material.

Connect learning to real-world application. Children understand why something matters when they see it functioning in actual contexts. Cooking applies math and science. Caring for a garden teaches biology and patience. Building something requires spatial reasoning and problem-solving.

These aren’t “educational activities” separate from real life. They’re life itself, and they naturally develop competencies while maintaining intrinsic motivation.

Most crucially: make reflection a regular practice. Not judgment about whether goals were achieved, but genuine curiosity about the learning process itself.

“What did you discover this week that surprised you?” “What challenged you? How did you work through it?” “What do you want to explore more deeply?”

These conversations transform goal-setting from external pressure to internal reflection. Children learn to assess their own progress, identify their own interests, and adjust their own approaches. These metacognitive skills matter far more than any specific resolution.

When we visit with prospective families, parents often express concern about whether students can really direct their own learning. Won’t they just avoid difficult subjects? Choose only easy work? Miss crucial skills?

What we see year after year suggests otherwise. When children experience genuine autonomy supported by prepared environments and caring adults, they naturally gravitate toward challenging work. They set ambitious goals. They persist.

Not because they’re exceptional children. Because that’s what humans do when their basic psychological needs for autonomy, competence, and relatedness are met.

The resolutions fail because they violate these needs. The sustainable learning happens because we honor them.

It’s still January. Not too late to shift your family’s approach to learning goals. Start by having a conversation with your child about what genuinely interests them. What questions do they carry? What would they love to explore if given time and resources?

Listen without immediately planning how to turn their interests into educational objectives. Just listen. Be curious. Honor their capacity to direct their own growth.

Then ask: how can I support you in exploring this? What do you need? How can I help without taking over?

The best learning goals aren’t the ones we impose each January. They’re the ones that emerge naturally throughout the year from genuine curiosity, supported by adults who trust children’s capacity to direct their own development.

The school brochures arrive in your mailbox. The websites all promise transformative experiences. Every open house features smiling children and passionate educators. So how do you possibly choose?

If you’re like most parents navigating school selection right now, you’ve probably spent hours scrolling through rankings, comparing test scores, and wondering if that school everyone talks about really is that much better. Here’s what we’ve learned after 67 years of educating children on Vancouver Island: the best school isn’t the one at the top of someone else’s list. It’s the one that fits your child.

Bottom line: School fit matters infinitely more than school rankings. The right educational environment aligns with your child’s learning style, your family’s values, and your vision for what education should accomplish. Everything else is just noise.

What do rankings even measure?

According to research from Stanford University’s Graduate School of Education, many ranking metrics are weighted arbitrarily and don’t accurately indicate educational quality or student outcomes. Rankings prioritize easily measurable factors like test scores and acceptance rates while ignoring what actually matters most for learning and long-term success.

Think about it. A school could have perfect test scores but leave your child feeling anxious and disconnected. Another might not make anyone’s “top ten” list but could be exactly where your daughter thrives because she finally has teachers who understand how she learns. Which scenario sounds better to you?

We’re not suggesting academics don’t matter. They absolutely do. But research has demonstrated that student engagement and connection to their learning environment predict life outcomes far more reliably than institutional selectivity or ranking position. A student who feels genuinely engaged at a “match” school will likely achieve better outcomes than one who feels lost at a highly ranked institution that doesn’t align with their needs.

The truth is, rankings can’t tell you whether your son will run to school each morning or drag his feet. They can’t measure whether your daughter will develop genuine curiosity or just learn to perform for grades. They certainly can’t predict whether your child will look back on these years with gratitude or relief that they’re over.

Understanding your child’s learning style matters more than you think

Here’s something every parent discovers eventually: children don’t all learn the same way. Some kids think in pictures. Others need to talk through concepts out loud. Some children sit still and absorb lectures beautifully while others literally need to move their bodies to process information.

This isn’t just preference. It’s neurology.

Research on child development confirms that different children process and retain information through different modalities. Visual learners need to see information. Auditory learners need to hear it. Kinesthetic learners need hands-on, physical engagement with concepts. Most children have a dominant learning style alongside developing capacities in other modes.

Traditional education was built around linguistic and logical-mathematical learning, often to the exclusion of other styles. But developmental psychologist Howard Gardner demonstrated decades ago that intelligence manifests in multiple ways, and children learn better when their individual learning approaches are recognized and supported.

What does this mean for school selection? It means you need to ask questions about how teaching actually happens in classrooms, not just what gets taught. Does the school lecture from the front of the room for hours? Do students work collaboratively? Are there opportunities for hands-on exploration? Can children demonstrate understanding in multiple ways, or is every assessment a written test?

On our campus, we’ve structured learning around this reality. Our multi-age classrooms allow children to engage with concepts at different levels and through varied approaches. A Grade 2 student learning multiplication might work with physical materials, building arrays with wooden beads. That same concept might be explored by an older student through pattern recognition or by teaching it to a younger classmate. Three different approaches to the same fundamental understanding, each valid, each powerful.

The question isn’t whether your child should adapt to the school’s singular method. The question is whether the school can adapt to your child’s natural way of learning.

Questions about educational philosophy that actually matter

Every school will tell you they care about the whole child. Every admissions director will emphasize community and character development. These aren’t meaningless statements, but they’re not especially useful for distinguishing one school from another either.

You need to dig deeper.

Start with the most fundamental question: What do you believe education is actually for? Your answer to this question should drive every other decision. Is education primarily about academic preparation for university? Is it about developing critical thinking and problem solving? Is it about nurturing creativity and independence? Is it about building character and community connection?

There’s no universally correct answer. Different families prioritize different outcomes, and that’s completely appropriate. What matters is finding alignment between your educational philosophy and the school’s actual practices.

Here’s how we think about education: we believe learning should be grounded in the types of experiences, challenges, and projects students will encounter throughout their lives. Education should offer foundational knowledge and frameworks that empower students to explore their interests without having to unlearn manufactured ways of working or deconstruct artificial silos imposed during their formative years.

That philosophy shapes everything from our 143-acre natural campus backing onto provincial land where outdoor education is integrated into weekly learning, to our project-based High School program where students design learning experiences around their passions while meeting BC curriculum requirements.

But maybe your family believes structure and traditional academics should be paramount. Maybe you want a school focused on competitive athletics or performing arts. Maybe religious education is central to your values. All of these are legitimate priorities. The key is finding a school whose philosophy genuinely aligns with yours, not one that just uses the right buzzwords in their brochure.

Ask these specific questions during school visits:

How do you define success for students? Listen carefully to whether the answer focuses on test scores and university acceptance or includes broader measures of growth, curiosity, and character development.

How do teachers approach a child who’s struggling? The answer reveals whether the school views struggle as failure to be remediated or as a natural part of learning to be supported.

What happens when a student excels beyond grade level expectations? This tells you whether the school can truly differentiate instruction or whether everyone moves at the same pace regardless of readiness.

How do you handle conflict between students? The response indicates whether the school emphasizes punishment and control or teaches conflict resolution and restorative practices.

What role do parents play in the school community? Some schools see parents as customers. Others see them as partners. Still others view parental involvement as interference. Know which model aligns with your expectations.

Evaluating school culture and community fit

Academic philosophy matters, but so does everyday culture. Your child will spend more waking hours at school than anywhere else. The community’s values and daily atmosphere profoundly impact their development.

Culture reveals itself in small moments. During a campus visit to our school, one parent later told us what convinced her: she watched a kindergartner fall on the playground. Two Grade 7 students immediately stopped their conversation, walked over, asked if she was okay, and helped her up. This wasn’t a performance for visitors. The older students simply noticed and responded with genuine care.

That moment reflected years of cultivating community where multi-age interaction is normal, where kindness isn’t just talked about but modeled daily, where older students naturally mentor younger ones because that’s what we do here.

What moments reveal culture at the schools you’re considering? Watch how students interact with each other, especially across age groups. Notice whether they seem genuinely engaged or going through motions. Observe how teachers speak to children and whether respect flows in both directions.

Pay attention to:

Student interactions. Do children across different ages know each other? Is there visible kindness and collaboration, or do students stay siloed by grade and clique?

Teacher relationships. Can you observe genuine connection between educators and students? Do teachers seem to know children as individuals beyond their academic performance?

Physical environment. Does the space feel alive and welcoming or sterile and institutional? Are student creations displayed? Does the environment reflect the community’s values?

Parent community. Talk to current parents if possible. Not just the ones the school connects you with, but parents you encounter naturally. Are they engaged? Do they speak enthusiastically about the community or just tolerate it for the academics?

At Westmont, our parent community has become one of our greatest strengths. Parents don’t just volunteer required hours and disappear. They’ve started extracurricular clubs in chess, coding, Mandarin, and soccer. They organize events and demonstrate remarkable cooperation. Many parents cite the friendships they’ve formed with other families as a significant benefit of our community.

This wasn’t manufactured by administration. It emerged because families who chose us did so based on values alignment, creating natural connection and shared purpose.

Red flags and green lights in school selection

Some warning signs should give you serious pause during the selection process:

Defensive responses to questions. If a school becomes guarded or dismissive when you ask substantive questions about their approach, curriculum, or how they handle challenges, that defensiveness likely extends to how they’ll interact with you as a parent.

One-size-fits-all messaging. If every answer emphasizes that “all our students” do or achieve something, be skeptical. Children are individuals. A school should be able to articulate how they differentiate and adapt to varied needs.

Pressure tactics. Any school that makes you feel rushed to decide or uses scarcity to push enrollment likely prioritizes filling seats over finding the right fit.

Lack of transparency. Reluctance to discuss teacher qualifications, student-teacher ratios, discipline policies, or how they handle learning challenges suggests possible problems in those areas.

Overemphasis on facilities over philosophy. Beautiful buildings and impressive technology matter far less than educational approach and teaching quality. If the tour focuses primarily on physical amenities rather than how learning happens, dig deeper.

Conversely, positive indicators include:

Thoughtful questions about your child. Schools genuinely interested in fit will want to understand your child’s interests, challenges, and learning style rather than just reviewing test scores.

Specific examples. When you ask how they handle various situations, listen for concrete examples from actual experience rather than theoretical responses.

Acknowledgment of limitations. No school is perfect for every child. A school confident in its identity can honestly discuss who thrives there and who might be better served elsewhere.

Student agency. Look for evidence that children have meaningful choices in their learning and that their voices are heard in the community.

Clear values in action. The school’s stated principles should be visible in daily practice, not just written in the mission statement.

Making the decision after you’ve found the right fit

You’ve toured campuses. You’ve asked thoughtful questions. You’ve reflected on your child’s needs and your family’s values. Maybe you’ve narrowed it to two or three schools that could work. How do you actually decide?

Start by separating anxiety from intuition. The fear that you’ll make the “wrong” choice can cloud judgment and lead to decision paralysis. Remember that there isn’t just one perfect school. Several different environments might allow your child to flourish in different ways.

Consider asking your child directly, especially if they’re old enough to have opinions. Not “which school has the best playground,” but deeper questions. Which place made you feel most comfortable? Where could you imagine yourself making friends? Did anywhere make you feel excited about learning?

Children’s instincts about where they’ll fit are often remarkably accurate. One parent shared with us that her son had visited four schools and ranked us last initially because we didn’t have a gymnasium. But after attending a trial day and experiencing the classroom environment and outdoor spaces, he changed his mind completely. He recognized at eight years old that the community and approach mattered more than facilities.

Think about trajectory, not just the immediate year. Many families choose elementary schools thinking they’ll switch for middle school, or middle schools planning to move for high school. While sometimes necessary, transitions are disruptive. Every transition requires relationship rebuilding, adjustment to new systems, and social recalibration.

We offer continuity from Early Learning through High School specifically because we understand that children thrive when they can grow within a consistent community and educational philosophy. Students who’ve been with us since preschool approach high school with confidence built over years. They know themselves as learners. They’ve developed strong peer relationships. They trust that their education will continue adapting to their evolving needs.

Consider practical realities alongside philosophy. Location, affordability, schedule, and accessibility all matter. A theoretically perfect school that requires an unsustainable commute or stretches your budget to the breaking point isn’t actually the right fit. Your child’s education exists within the context of family life, not separate from it.

Trust that you can make the right choice for right now. Education isn’t a single decision but a series of choices made in partnership with your child as they grow. The school you choose for kindergarten might or might not be the same one they attend in Grade 10, and that’s okay. What matters is making the most informed, values-aligned choice you can with current information.

What happens next

Once you’ve identified strong potential fits, schedule visits during normal school days if possible. Open houses show you the school’s best face. Regular school days show you reality.

Bring your child for a trial day if schools offer this option. A few hours in the classroom will tell you more than hours of tours and conversations. Watch how your child engages. Notice whether they seem comfortable. Observe how teachers and students include them.

After our trial days, we often hear from parents that their child hasn’t stopped talking about the experience. They mention specific activities, name students they met, ask when they can come back. That enthusiasm signals genuine connection, which is exactly what you’re looking for.

Prepare for the possibility that your preferred choice won’t be the right financial fit or won’t have space available. Have backup options you genuinely feel good about rather than just “settling” if your first choice doesn’t work out.

Remember that choosing a school is significant but not permanent. Your child will adapt and grow wherever they land. Your ongoing involvement, support at home, and attention to whether they’re truly thriving matters more than achieving some perfect school selection.

The school that fits today

Here’s what we know after 67 years of education: children don’t need the school that looks best on paper. They need the school where they’re seen as individuals, where their natural curiosity is nurtured rather than standardized away, where they develop not just knowledge but confidence in their ability to learn.

They need a community that shares your family’s values. Teachers who understand that struggle is part of growth. Peers who model kindness because it’s woven into the culture. An environment where they can explore both academics and the forest behind campus, both structured learning and self-directed discovery.

The best school for your neighbor’s child might be completely wrong for yours. Your job isn’t to find the objectively “best” school. It’s to find the right fit for this specific child, at this specific stage, for your specific family. Trust your observations. Trust your values. Trust your instincts about where your child will flourish.

The right school is the one where your child runs through the door each morning, not dragging their feet. It’s where they talk excitedly about what they’re learning, not just what they’re doing. It’s where they’re challenged appropriately without being overwhelmed or bored. It’s where they’re building friendships based on shared experiences and genuine connection.

That school exists. Finding it requires looking past rankings and reputations to focus on what actually matters: fit, values, philosophy, and whether your child can become the fullest version of themselves in that environment.

Schedule a campus tour to experience our community and approach firsthand. Come see learning in action on our 143-acre campus, meet our educators, and discover whether Westmont might be the place where your child thrives.

A child shifts in their seat. Again. The teacher reminds them to sit still. Five minutes later, they’re fidgeting with a pencil. Another reminder. By afternoon, they’re receiving consequences for behavior that feels, to them, completely involuntary.

What if the problem isn’t the child? What if we’re asking developing bodies to do something fundamentally misaligned with how humans actually learn?

Bottom line: Research demonstrates that physical movement enhances rather than detracts from academic learning. The traditional “sit still and listen” classroom model conflicts with what neuroscience tells us about optimal conditions for cognition and development.

The Science Behind Movement and Brain Development

The connection between physical activity and cognitive function isn’t new, but recent research has clarified exactly how movement supports learning in ways that sitting cannot replicate.

Physical movement activates multiple brain regions simultaneously. When children engage in coordinated physical activity, their brains increase blood flow, which delivers oxygen and nutrients essential for neural function. This heightened brain activity doesn’t just support physical skills. It directly enhances the cognitive processes required for academic learning.

Research examining how movement affects attention and learning has demonstrated clear benefits. Studies show that regular physical movement improves attention span and helps the brain master new information. The effects aren’t minor. Children who engage in structured physical activity before academic tasks demonstrate measurably better focus, processing speed, and memory compared to children who remain sedentary.

One significant study examining classroom-based physical activity found that daily six-minute coordinated movement breaks significantly improved children’s processing speed, focused attention, concentration performance, and attention span over just four weeks. These weren’t lengthy exercise sessions. They were brief, structured movement activities integrated into the regular school day.

The mechanisms behind these benefits involve how movement prepares the brain for learning. Physical activity increases levels of brain-derived neurotrophic factor, a protein that supports the growth of new neurons and protects existing brain cells. Movement also stimulates the reticular formation of the brain, increasing neural activity that promotes immediate arousal and alertness, key states for effective learning.

Research from multiple educational settings provides consistent evidence. Studies of Texas students found that those who were physically fit were more likely to perform well on standardized tests and had better school attendance. Research in North Carolina schools showed students who met fitness standards demonstrated significant growth in both reading and mathematics. A California study matching nearly one million students’ fitness test results with their academic test scores found clear correlations between physical fitness and academic achievement.

The cognitive benefits extend beyond immediate attention improvements. Physical movement supports executive function development including working memory, cognitive flexibility, and inhibitory control. These capacities determine how well children can focus attention, resist distractions, plan and organize, and shift between different cognitive tasks. All of these skills prove essential for academic success.

Movement particularly supports learning new, difficult, or abstract material. When students engage in physical representations of concepts, whether through gesture, manipulation of objects, or full-body activities, they create additional neural pathways associated with that information. This multisensory encoding makes information easier to retrieve later.

The research doesn’t suggest that all learning should happen through movement or that sitting never serves educational purposes. It demonstrates that requiring prolonged stillness, particularly for young children, creates conditions that actually impair the learning we’re trying to support. Movement isn’t a break from learning. For many children, it’s a prerequisite for effective learning.

Why Some Kids Can’t Learn While Sitting Still

Traditional classrooms operate on an assumption: if children would just sit still and pay attention, they could learn effectively. For many children, this assumption gets the relationship backward. They can’t learn effectively because they’re required to sit still.

Individual variation in movement needs stems from multiple factors. Developmental stage plays a significant role. Younger children have greater needs for physical activity and shorter capacity for sustained stillness than older children. Asking a six-year-old to sit motionless for 45 minutes demands something their developing nervous system cannot reliably provide.

Some children have constitutionally higher needs for physical activity. Their nervous systems require more frequent movement to maintain optimal arousal for learning. This isn’t misbehavior or poor self-control. It’s neurological variation. For these children, enforced stillness actually impairs attention rather than supporting it.

Kinesthetic learners, while learning style theory has limitations, represent a real phenomenon: many children process and retain information more effectively when learning involves physical activity and manipulation of objects. These students aren’t being difficult when they struggle with lecture-based instruction. They’re experiencing genuine difficulty accessing content delivered primarily through sitting and listening.

Children with sensory processing differences often need movement to regulate their sensory systems. Physical activity helps them achieve and maintain the optimal arousal level for learning. Without regular movement opportunities, they become either under-aroused and lethargic or over-aroused and unable to focus. Either state impairs learning.

The mismatch between child development and classroom expectations creates predictable problems. When we interpret normal developmental needs for movement as behavioral problems, we misidentify the issue. The child who fidgets isn’t choosing to disrupt class. They’re trying to meet their nervous system’s need for movement while simultaneously trying to meet adult expectations for stillness. This creates internal conflict that itself impairs learning.

Research examining kinesthetic learning finds that students learn effectively through whole-body movement, hands-on manipulation, role-playing, experiments, and physical interaction with learning materials. For these students, the most effective math lesson might involve physically measuring objects, creating human graphs in the classroom, or using body movements to demonstrate mathematical concepts rather than completing worksheets at desks.

The consequences of ignoring movement needs extend beyond immediate learning. Children who spend years receiving negative feedback about natural movement needs often internalize messages that they’re “bad at school” or “can’t behave.” This damages self-concept and motivation, sometimes permanently. We create academic struggles through environmental mismatch, then attribute those struggles to child deficits.

Not every child requires the same amount of movement for optimal learning. Some children can sit relatively still for longer periods without significant cost to attention or learning. But even these children benefit from regular movement breaks and hands-on learning opportunities. The research suggests movement supports learning for all students while being especially critical for those with higher movement needs.

What Structure Really Means

Parents and educators often worry that allowing movement in classrooms leads to chaos and reduced learning. This concern conflates movement with lack of structure. Well-designed active learning environments provide substantial structure while incorporating movement intentionally.

Active learning doesn’t mean children randomly moving around doing whatever they want. It means purposefully integrating physical activity into structured learning experiences. The distinction matters enormously. Random, unstructured movement can disrupt learning. Intentional, purposeful movement enhances it.

Kinesthetic classrooms that incorporate action-based learning prioritize eliminating passive activity in favor of more engaging learning experiences. These environments are intentionally designed to maximize success through movement. They remain clean, comfortable, safe, and attractive to allow for effective teaching. They’re physically and psychologically secure while fostering opportunities for social contact and collaboration.

Structure in active learning environments comes through clear expectations, defined activities, appropriate challenge levels, and purposeful design. Teachers provide specific movement activities related to learning objectives rather than allowing unfocused activity. Students understand what they’re doing, why they’re doing it, and how movement connects to learning goals.

Examples demonstrate how structure and movement coexist. In a mathematics lesson, students might physically create a human bar graph by standing in columns representing different data categories. This involves substantial movement but remains highly structured with clear learning objectives. In a language arts lesson, students might physically arrange themselves in the correct sequence of story events. Movement serves specific learning purposes within defined structures.

Brain breaks represent another structured approach to movement. These are brief, planned physical activities inserted between academic sessions. Research shows that even short movement breaks improve subsequent attention and on-task behavior. The breaks follow clear procedures, have defined duration, and transition smoothly into academic work.

Physical manipulation of learning materials provides structure while incorporating kinesthetic elements. Montessori education has long emphasized this approach. Rather than learning mathematical concepts only through abstract symbols, children manipulate physical objects representing quantities and operations. The materials themselves provide structure while allowing movement and hands-on exploration.

Project-based learning naturally incorporates movement through investigation, experimentation, building, and creation. Students move purposefully as they gather materials, conduct experiments, construct models, or create presentations. The project structure provides organization while movement serves learning goals.

Our classroom environments reflect this understanding. Students have freedom of movement within classrooms rather than being limited to sitting at desks. This doesn’t create chaos because we provide clear structure about how space is used, appropriate noise levels, respect for others’ work, and taking responsibility for materials. Children learn to move purposefully in service of their learning rather than requiring constant stillness.

The prepared environment itself creates structure. Materials are organized clearly. Work spaces are defined. Expectations are established and consistently maintained. Within this structure, children move freely to select materials, work in different locations, collaborate with peers, and engage with learning activities that often involve physical interaction.

Outdoor education represents highly structured active learning. Our regular forest and beach experiences aren’t free-for-all outdoor time. They’re carefully planned educational activities that happen to occur in natural settings. Students might be measuring, observing, collecting samples, building structures, or engaging in organized physical challenges. Movement is integral, but clear learning objectives and behavioral expectations provide structure.

The key distinction: structure doesn’t mean stillness. Structure means clear expectations, purposeful activities, appropriate boundaries, and intentional design. Movement can and should exist within structured learning environments when we recognize its cognitive benefits rather than treating it as oppositional to learning.

How Movement Enhances Academic Achievement

The relationship between movement and academic success isn’t theoretical. Research across multiple contexts and measures demonstrates clear benefits when physical activity integrates with academic instruction.

Attention and focus improve measurably following physical activity. Studies examining the effects of structured movement breaks find that students demonstrate better concentration, fewer off-task behaviors, and improved ability to sustain attention on subsequent academic tasks. The effect isn’t subtle. Teachers consistently report noticeable differences in classroom behavior and engagement following movement activities.

Memory and information retention increase when learning involves movement. Physical engagement creates additional neural pathways associated with information, making it easier to recall later. Students who learn through doing, manipulating, or physically representing concepts remember that information more reliably than students who only hear or see the same content.

Motivation and engagement rise when learning involves physical activity. Students report more positive perceptions of subjects when lessons incorporate movement. This isn’t just about making school more fun, though enjoyment matters. It’s about creating conditions where students want to engage rather than feeling forced to participate.

Academic test performance correlates with physical fitness across numerous studies. While correlation doesn’t prove direct causation, the consistency of findings across different populations and contexts suggests real relationships. Students who are physically fit tend to perform better academically, even when controlling for other factors like socioeconomic status.

Subject-specific benefits appear across disciplines. In mathematics, studies show that lessons incorporating physical movement and manipulation of objects lead to better conceptual understanding than traditional paper-and-pencil instruction alone. In reading, programs that include physical components demonstrate improvements in comprehension and literacy skills. In science, hands-on experimentation and physical investigation support deeper learning than passive observation.

The benefits extend to different age groups. Elementary students show pronounced improvements in attention and learning when movement is incorporated. Middle school students demonstrate better engagement and performance when physical activity integrates with academic instruction. Even high school students benefit from opportunities to learn actively rather than sitting passively through lectures.

Social and emotional development also benefits from active learning approaches. Students develop better cooperation skills, communication abilities, and capacity to work with diverse peers when learning involves collaborative physical activities. These skills prove essential for long-term success beyond academics.

Our programs integrate movement naturally across all levels. In Early Years and Elementary, children engage with hands-on Montessori materials, have regular outdoor time, and participate in physical learning activities throughout the day. In Middle School, students combine academic work with outdoor education, team-building activities, and project-based learning that keeps them actively engaged. In High School, our experiential learning model gets students out of classrooms entirely for significant portions of their education, learning through doing in real-world contexts.

The research supports what we observe daily: children learn better when they’re allowed to move. Academic achievement doesn’t require stillness. For many students, it requires the opposite.

Rethinking What “Good Student” Behavior Actually Looks Like

Traditional definitions of “good student” behavior typically include sitting still, raising hands, following directions immediately, remaining quiet unless called upon, and staying focused on teacher-directed activities. These expectations reflect adult preferences for easy classroom management more than they reflect optimal conditions for learning.

Reconsidering these assumptions starts with asking what actually supports learning rather than what creates adult convenience. A child fidgeting while successfully completing work is learning effectively despite not meeting traditional behavior expectations. A child sitting perfectly still while mentally checked out looks like a good student but isn’t learning at all.

Genuine engagement sometimes looks messy. Students deeply involved in hands-on projects might talk excitedly, move between work spaces, experiment with materials, and create productive noise. Traditional classroom management might interpret this as poor behavior. Actually, it represents students fully engaged in learning.

Different types of movement serve different learning purposes. Self-regulatory movement helps students maintain optimal arousal for attention. These movements include fidgeting, shifting position, stretching, or brief walks. Rather than violations of rules, these represent students managing their own attention systems. Task-related movement directly serves learning, like manipulating objects, performing experiments, or physically demonstrating concepts.

Collaboration requires communication and often movement. When students work together effectively, they need to talk, share materials, move to see each other’s work, and occasionally shift locations. The traditional silent, motionless classroom prevents the very collaboration we claim to value.

Intrinsic motivation looks different from compliance. Students following their genuine interests within structured environments might choose materials, change activities when ready for new challenges, and direct their own learning paths. This autonomy sometimes conflicts with traditional expectations for uniform activity where all students do the same thing simultaneously.

Mistakes and experimentation represent essential learning processes. Students who never try difficult tasks because they fear looking foolish or making mistakes aren’t demonstrating good student behavior. They’re demonstrating fear. Students willing to attempt challenges, make errors, and try again show genuine learning orientation even if the process looks messier than passive compliance.

Questions and curiosity indicate engagement and thinking, not disruption. A student who asks thoughtful questions, challenges assumptions, or wants to explore topics more deeply is demonstrating exactly the intellectual engagement we should encourage. Traditional behavior expectations sometimes penalize this curiosity if it doesn’t fit narrow parameters.

At our school, we’ve redefined what good student behavior looks like. We value students who work independently, pursue their interests deeply, help younger students, ask questions, attempt difficult challenges, learn from mistakes, take responsibility for their learning, and contribute positively to community. These behaviors look quite different from traditional compliance-based definitions.

One parent described our approach: “My children are very happy going to school every day. They love that they know what the school day will bring, and they are excited for the day’s and week’s activities. Because of where the school is situated, with the beach and forest behind it, there is weekly interaction with nature. The students spend a lot of time outdoors, and because of this, they are better able to focus on their studies indoors.”

That “excitement for the day’s activities” represents genuine engagement. It comes from educational approaches that recognize children’s developmental needs rather than requiring them to suppress those needs in service of adult convenience.

Learning in Motion

The traditional model of education, with children sitting in rows listening to teachers lecture, reflects historical limitations more than optimal learning conditions. We organized schools this way because we needed to efficiently teach large groups with limited resources, not because research showed it produced the best outcomes.

Now we know better. Neuroscience research consistently demonstrates that physical movement supports cognitive development. Educational studies show that incorporating movement improves attention, memory, engagement, and academic achievement. Observational experience confirms that many children literally cannot learn effectively while forced into prolonged stillness.

What happens when we stop requiring children to sit still and listen? They move. They explore. They engage. And they learn more effectively than they did while sitting passively.

Our 143-acre campus and educational philosophy reflect this understanding. From our youngest students exploring with Montessori materials through our High School students learning through experiential projects in real-world settings, we structure education around activity rather than passivity, doing rather than sitting, experiencing rather than merely hearing about.

What if sitting still isn’t actually how kids learn best? Experience learning in motion on our 143-acre campus. Schedule a campus tour to see how movement enhances education. 

Your eight-year-old asks for screen time. Again. You feel that familiar knot of guilt and uncertainty. Did they have too much yesterday? Is this damaging their development? Are you failing as a parent?

If technology and screen time create anxiety in your household, you’re far from alone. Parents face constant pressure to get it “right” while navigating a landscape that didn’t exist in their own childhoods.

Bottom line: The question isn’t whether technology is “good” or “bad” but how we teach children to use it intentionally. Quality, context, and balance matter far more than arbitrary time limits alone.

Moving Beyond “Good” and “Bad” Screen Time

The binary framing of screen time as either beneficial or harmful doesn’t reflect reality. Research consistently shows that context, content, and how children engage with technology matter more than simple duration measurements.

Not all screen use affects development the same way. Studies examining different types of screen engagement find meaningful distinctions. Educational content watched with adult involvement produces different outcomes than passive consumption of entertainment. Interactive activities like video calls with grandparents affect social development differently than scrolling through content feeds.

Research examining screen time and child development has found both beneficial and detrimental effects depending on how technology is used. Electronic books and learning applications may support early reading skills and creative thinking. Cooperative video games played with family can function as traditional play, offering opportunities for identity and social development. Technology helps children maintain friendships and can make these relationships more diverse than offline connections.

However, excessive passive screen use correlates with negative outcomes including sleep problems, obesity, behavioral issues, and delayed language development. Background television interferes with play quality and parent-child interaction. Heavy screen use,especially before bedtime, disrupts sleep patterns critical for cognitive development.

The key difference: active versus passive engagement. When children interact purposefully with technology, creating content, communicating with others, or solving problems, outcomes tend toward positive. When they consume content passively for extended periods, particularly entertainment designed to maximize viewing time, risks increase.

Age significantly affects how screen time influences development. Research shows infants and toddlers have difficulty learning from two-dimensional representations. They learn more effectively through face-to-face interaction with caregivers than from screens. By age two to three, children begin understanding screen content better, but live interaction remains superior for development.

For school-aged children and adolescents, moderate technology use (typically two to four hours daily) associates with some cognitive and psychosocial benefits, while zero use or excessive use correlate with negative effects. The relationship isn’t linear, meaning more isn’t simply worse. Context and content determine outcomes as much as quantity.

Canadian Paediatric Society guidelines recommend no screen time for children under 18 months except video chatting, less than one hour daily of high-quality programming for ages two to five, and consistent limits prioritizing sleep, physical activity, and other healthy behaviors for older children. These represent starting points for family conversations rather than rigid rules applicable to all situations.

The “screen time guilt” many parents experience often stems from conflicting advice, lack of clear guidelines, and uncertainty about long-term effects. This guilt can actually interfere with thoughtful decision-making. Parents benefit more from understanding principles than from anxiety about specific time limits.

What Research Actually Says About Kids and Technology

Separating evidence from anxiety helps parents make informed decisions. The research offers nuanced findings that don’t reduce to simple sound bites.

Studies examining excessive screen time in children document concerns including impacts on cognitive development, language acquisition, attention span, academic performance, physical health, sleep quality, and social-emotional development. However, most research examines associations rather than proving direct causation. Many studies rely on parent-reported data, which can be influenced by parental perceptions and concerns.

Research limitations matter for interpretation. When studies find correlations between screen time and developmental concerns, multiple explanations exist. Perhaps screen time causes the problems. Perhaps children already experiencing difficulties gravitate toward screens. Perhaps family circumstances affecting both screen time and development aren’t fully measured. Quality research attempts to account for these factors, but perfect studies remain rare.

The developing brain constantly builds neural connections while pruning less-used ones, and digital media use plays an active role in that process. Research from Harvard Medical School notes that much screen-based stimulation provides more limited developmental input compared to real-world experiences. Children benefit from diverse experiences including opportunities for minds to wander, as boredom creates space for creativity and imagination.

Screen use before bedtime disrupts sleep by suppressing melatonin secretion. Since quality sleep proves essential for processing and storing information into memory, late-night technology use can impair learning even when screen content seems educational. Adolescents texting late at night miss both total sleep and deep REM sleep critical for development.

The type of screen and interaction method affects outcomes. Early research suggests touch-screen devices like tablets may support more positive development than passive television viewing when paired with adult guidance and quality educational content. However, even with tablets, quality content and parental involvement determine effectiveness.

Social media presents specific concerns for adolescents. Constant connectivity through texting, social networking, and instant messaging increases anxiety for some teens while supporting social connection for others. Research finds friendship quality and offline relationship strength influence whether technology enhances or undermines wellbeing. When relationships are strong offline, newer technologies confer additional benefits.

Moderate use patterns, which vary by age, generally associate with better outcomes than either excessive use or complete avoidance. For adolescents, zero screen use or excessive use both link to negative effects, while moderate use relates to cognitive and psychosocial benefits. The exact definition of “moderate” depends on age, content, context, and individual factors.

Gaming specifically shows mixed effects. Some video gaming associates with increased wellbeing, prosocial behavior, and fewer conduct problems. Games played cooperatively with family and friends can function as traditional play. However, exposure to age-inappropriate or violent content negatively affects development and behavior. The content, context, and duration all matter.

Perhaps most importantly, research consistently emphasizes that screens themselves aren’t the central issue. The question is what screens replace. When technology displaces physical activity, face-to-face social interaction, outdoor play, reading, creative pursuits, or adequate sleep, negative effects increase. When technology supplements rather than replaces these activities, risks decrease substantially.

Teaching Children to be Intentional with Technology

Moving beyond guilt toward intention requires teaching children skills they’ll need for a lifetime of navigating digital environments. This starts earlier than most parents realize.

Intentional technology use means approaching screens with purpose rather than default. Even young children can learn to ask: “What do I want to do with this technology?” rather than simply reaching for devices when bored. This requires modeling and explicit teaching.

Family media plans provide structure for intentional use. These plans specify when, where, and how screens may be used in your household. Effective plans include device-free times like meals and before bedtime, screen-free zones like bedrooms, and guidelines about content appropriateness. Plans work best when developed collaboratively with age-appropriate input from children.

Co-viewing and co-playing with younger children transforms passive consumption into interactive learning. When adults watch programs or play games with children, asking questions and connecting content to real life, educational benefits increase significantly. Research shows learning improves when adults actively participate rather than simply supervising.

As children mature, teaching media literacy becomes critical. This includes helping them recognize advertising, question content accuracy, identify stereotyping, understand how algorithms work, and recognize when content aims to keep them scrolling rather than inform or entertain meaningfully. These skills prove essential for navigating digital environments independently.

Time management skills develop through practice with structure. Rather than granting unlimited access or imposing arbitrary limits without explanation, involve children in decisions about screen time allocation. Discuss trade-offs between different activities. Help them notice how they feel after different types of screen use.

Creating deliberate breaks from technology helps children experience its absence. Screen-free days, outdoor family activities, board game nights, and technology-free mealtimes provide contrast that makes intentional use more apparent. When children regularly experience engaging activities without screens, they develop capacity to choose among options rather than defaulting to devices.

Teaching children to recognize how technology affects them individually builds self-awareness. Different children show different responses to screen time. Some become energized, others fatigued. Some feel socially connected, others isolated. Helping children notice their own patterns enables better self-regulation as they mature.

Establishing healthy sleep hygiene requires boundaries around evening screen use. Blue light from screens interferes with melatonin production. Content can be stimulating rather than calming. Creating evening routines without screens supports better sleep, which in turn supports everything from mood to learning capacity.

Modeling intentional technology use teaches more powerfully than rules. When parents constantly check phones during family time, children learn screens take priority over people. When parents demonstrate balanced use, setting aside devices for focused interaction, children internalize these patterns.

At our High School program, we address technology intentionally. Students use personal laptops at school but understand expectations about when devices support learning versus when they distract. We promote responsible and ethical technology use, with the majority of the school day spent in learning activities requiring peer-to-peer and student-teacher interaction rather than screen time.

The Difference Between Consuming and Creating with Tech

Perhaps the most important distinction in children’s technology use separates passive consumption from active creation. This difference determines whether technology expands or limits developmental opportunities.

Consuming content means watching, scrolling, clicking through what others have made. This includes most television, social media browsing, video watching, and passive game playing. Consumption requires minimal cognitive engagement and creative thought. While not inherently harmful in moderation, consumption-heavy screen time provides limited developmental benefit.

Creating with technology means using digital tools to produce something new: writing, coding, designing, composing music, editing video, building in digital environments, or communicating ideas. Creation requires higher-order thinking, problem-solving, and often collaboration. These activities leverage technology to extend human capability.

Research consistently shows creative technology use supports development more effectively than passive consumption. When children code, they learn computational thinking and persistence through debugging. When they create videos, they develop narrative skills and technical competency. When they design in digital environments, they practice spatial reasoning and problem-solving.

The ratio matters more than absolute amounts. A child spending two hours creating digital content engages fundamentally differently than a child spending two hours watching videos, even though both involve screens for equal time. Simple time-based limits miss this crucial distinction.

Encouraging creation over consumption requires providing tools, teaching skills, and valuing output. Children need access to creation-focused applications rather than just entertainment platforms. They benefit from basic instruction in digital creation tools. Most importantly, adults must recognize and appreciate what children create digitally with the same enthusiasm given to offline creations.

Many educational technology applications blend consumption and creation effectively. Quality educational games require problem-solving and decision-making rather than passive watching. Interactive learning platforms adapt to student responses, requiring active engagement. These hybrid activities provide more developmental value than pure consumption.

Our elementary and middle school programs emphasize hands-on learning with both physical and digital tools. Students don’t primarily learn by watching screens. They engage in active project work, hands-on exploration with Montessori materials, outdoor experiences, and collaborative problem-solving. When we use technology, emphasis falls on creation and communication rather than passive consumption.

Preparing Kids for a Digital World Without Losing Childhood

The central challenge facing parents: preparing children for a technology-saturated future while preserving experiences essential for healthy development. These goals aren’t mutually exclusive, but achieving both requires intentionality.

Digital literacy represents a genuine necessity for future success. Today’s children will work in environments requiring technological competency. Avoiding technology entirely doesn’t serve them well. The question becomes how to develop digital skills while maintaining childhood’s irreplaceable developmental experiences.

Balance requires protecting certain activities and experiences. Unstructured outdoor play supports physical development, risk assessment, creativity, and nature connection in ways no screen can replicate. Face-to-face social interaction teaches reading facial expressions, negotiating conflicts, and building relationships through means beyond text and image. Physical books support different cognitive processes than screen-based reading. Open-ended creative play with physical materials develops spatial reasoning and fine motor skills distinctly from digital creation.

These aren’t either-or choices. Children can develop technological competency AND spend substantial time outdoors. They can become digitally literate AND maintain strong face-to-face social skills. They can create digitally AND build with physical materials. The key is ensuring technology doesn’t displace these foundational experiences.

Age-appropriate introduction of technology supports this balance. Very young children gain little from personal device use but benefit enormously from physical exploration, social interaction, and sensory experiences. Elementary-aged children can begin learning digital skills while maintaining primarily offline activity. Adolescents increasingly require technological competency but still need substantial offline experiences.

Our 143-acre campus backing onto provincial land provides daily outdoor experiences that balance any technology use. Students spend significant time in nature, not as a break from “real” learning but as central to our educational approach. This outdoor time supports attention restoration, stress reduction, and developmental needs that screens cannot address.

Critical thinking about technology itself should grow alongside technical skills. Children benefit from understanding how platforms are designed to capture attention, why certain content goes viral, how algorithms shape what they see, and what motivations drive different technology companies. This meta-awareness supports more thoughtful technology choices.

The goal isn’t raising children who avoid technology but children who use it purposefully as one tool among many for learning, creating, connecting, and entertaining themselves. When we succeed, young people grow into adults who can code when needed, video chat to maintain relationships, research topics of interest, and also put devices aside to be fully present, explore outdoors, engage in face-to-face conversation, and pursue activities requiring hands and mind without intermediary screens.

Beyond Guilt to Intentionality

Screen time doesn’t have to generate constant parental anxiety. Research offers guidance: quality matters more than quantity alone, context determines outcomes, active engagement beats passive consumption, and balanced lives including physical activity, outdoor time, and face-to-face interaction support healthy development alongside appropriate technology use.

Rather than fixating on hour counts or feeling guilty about every screen minute, focus on teaching intentional technology use. Help children learn to approach screens with purpose, create more than consume, maintain strong offline experiences and relationships, and develop self-awareness about how technology affects them individually.

At Westmont, technology serves learning rather than driving it. Our innovative High School program integrates technology thoughtfully while maintaining emphasis on hands-on projects, outdoor education, face-to-face collaboration, and real-world experiences. Students develop technological competency alongside critical thinking, creativity, and the full range of capabilities required for thriving in complex futures.

Stop feeling guilty about screen time. Start thinking about how to teach kids to use technology intentionally. 

The question isn’t whether your child uses technology. It’s whether they’re learning to use it well.