As educators here at DAZI, we do not see our role as one of teaching in the traditional sense. Instead, we believe our purpose is to create an environment where learning is possible. Young children learn best not through direct instruction but through exploration, curiosity, and discovery. In this space, learning is not forced—it emerges organically from the experiences and materials available to them.
Nothing enters this environment without thought. As a team, we ask ourselves: What is our reason for including this? What do we think might happen? How might the children use it? These guiding questions shape the space, but ultimately, the children define how learning unfolds.
The magic of incidental learning happens in the small, unplanned moments. A child notices a pattern in the shadows on the wall and begins tracing them with their fingers. Another child discovers that when they stack wooden blocks just so, they create a balance they hadn’t expected. A group of children, engrossed in pouring water through different containers, stumble upon the concept of volume and flow. These moments are not scripted, nor do they need to be explained in the moment—they simply happen, and the learning is all the more powerful because it belongs to the children.
Our role as educators here at DAZI is to observe and support, to notice these moments and, when needed, provide just enough guidance to extend their discoveries without interrupting their process. When a child questions why their tower keeps falling, we might ask, “What do you notice about the blocks?” rather than giving them the answer. When they experiment with color mixing at the art table, we refrain from stepping in with explanations, allowing them to see and marvel at the changes firsthand.
They have a lifetime to learn the how and why of things—now is the time for building curiosity, wonder, and a willingness to ask, "What if?"
Incidental learning reminds us that children are capable, inquisitive learners, and that the best lessons often come from their own observations, trials, and experiments. The environment we provide should invite wonder, curiosity, and discovery—not dictate a predetermined outcome.
In the end, it is not about teaching children, but about setting the stage for learning to occur. It is in the unnoticed, unplanned, and seemingly small moments that the biggest learning takes place. And as educators, our greatest task is to trust in the process, step back, and let those moments unfold together as a team.
Rosetta