By: Zach Miller
What if a school felt less like a building and more like a living, breathing community?
In this exclusive interview with Holly Gold, we explore a philosophy of early childhood education that rethinks space, movement, and learning itself. The Little School Approach moves away from hallways, closed classrooms, and rigid structure and offers openness, connection, and freedom. Children learn best when they can move, explore, and follow their curiosity, which is why play-based and mixed-age environments improve problem-solving, social skills, emotional growth, and foreign language learning. Open spaces also encourage independence, as children make choices and engage with their surroundings in meaningful ways. This interview looks at how design shapes behavior. It also shows how educators can create spaces inspired by this approach, where children grow through curiosity, relationships, and everyday discovery.
Q1. Holly, it is a pleasure to connect with you. Rockridge Little School was intentionally designed without traditional hallways or closed classrooms. What inspired you to rethink the physical structure of a preschool in such a way?
Holly Gold: I kept coming back to a very simple question: what kind of environment actually matches how young children learn and how people live?
When you really observe children, they don’t move through their day in neat, segmented blocks. They’re fluid. Curious. They follow interests that don’t stop at a doorway. And in life, we don’t live in hallways and separate rooms organized by age; we live in communities.
At Little School, we’re a mixed-age, indoor-outdoor program, so that question became even more important. We wanted a space where a child can walk in the front door, even at two years old, and experience the entire school as theirs. They can move inside, go outside, connect with different teachers, and return to something later. It’s one continuous environment.
And the size of the school is a big part of that. We’re intentionally small enough that it feels like a real community (everyone knows each other), but large enough that it’s interesting and dynamic, with a full mix of ages moving through the space together.
Traditional hallways and closed classrooms just don’t support that. They create artificial stopping points and divisions that don’t reflect how children actually grow or how communities actually function.
So instead of designing a school as a series of separate spaces, we designed one connected environment. One school. One community.
Q2. Many early education environments are built around clear boundaries and separation. How does removing walls and hallways influence the way children explore, interact, and build independence during the day?
Holly Gold: What changes immediately is that children begin to see themselves as active participants in their own experience.
From the moment they arrive, they’re making real choices. Do I want to be inside or outside? What am I drawn to? Who do I want to be with? Even very young children can move through the space in a way that reflects their interests and their developmental moment.
And what’s so beautiful is that the environment holds all of those possibilities at once. The sensory dough table, the train table, the large building area, the writing area, the climbing structures, the outdoor space… it’s all there.
A two-year-old might walk in and go straight to the sensory dough or trains. A four-year-old might head to writing or climb outside. They’re seeing the same environment but engaging with it in completely different ways.
The same is true with teachers. Children gravitate toward different adults at different times. Younger children often seek out that nurturing, comforting presence. Older children might gravitate toward the teacher who’s building something bigger or extending an idea. And then everything in between exists as well. The choice is theirs, and the environment holds it all.
And they’re doing all of this within one shared community. Siblings are together. Neighbors are together. Friends are together. They’re with teachers who know them across years.
I’ve never really understood why schools would do it any other way; why separate children who walk in together in the morning?
The same question applies to age groupings. In a strictly age-based classroom, someone is always the oldest, someone is always the youngest, and everyone else falls in between. Those roles can start to define children.
In a mixed-age environment, that pressure disappears. Children aren’t comparing; they’re developing. They engage with the same materials and experiences at their own level, at their own moment in time.
Because children are constantly changing. Every day they’re moving. And here, they can feel that; they can return to something and approach it in a new way, with growing confidence.
The curriculum grows out of that. It’s not based on a fixed calendar; it’s based on relationships, interests, and the people in the space. There’s a deep consistency in the community, but a dynamic, living quality to the experience.
Q3. When designing a learning space that is more open and fluid, what principles guide decisions about safety, supervision, and maintaining a calm learning environment?
Holly Gold: For children to experience that kind of freedom, there has to be a tremendous amount of intention behind the scenes.
We are constantly coordinating as a team, communicating, observing, and adjusting. Who’s in each space, what the energy feels like, where support is needed, etc. The goal is that a child experiences the school as seamless, but that only works because the adults are deeply connected to each other and to the environment.
The size of the school supports this. Because we’re small enough, we truly know every child and every family. But we’re also large enough to have a full, dynamic mix of ages and activity.
Visibility is key. The openness actually strengthens supervision because teachers can see across spaces and stay aware of the whole environment.
And because we’re indoor-outdoor, the entire school is in use all the time. There are no empty classrooms waiting for a group to return. Whether it’s a rainy day on the covered deck, gardening in the spring, or working inside, every part of the environment is active and available.
What sustains calm isn’t control; it’s a relationship. This is one school, one community, over many years. That continuity creates trust. And that trust creates calm.
Q4. Children naturally learn through curiosity and movement. How does the architectural layout of Rockridge Little School support spontaneous discovery compared to a traditional classroom setup?
Holly Gold: The architecture doesn’t interrupt the child; it follows the child.
In a traditional classroom, discovery often has to fit into a schedule or a designated space. You move from one activity to another because it’s time, not because of curiosity.
In our environment, discovery can unfold naturally. A child might start building something inside, notice something happening outside, move toward it, come back later, and return to the original idea with a new perspective.
Because everything is connected, children can see what’s happening beyond where they are. They can observe before they join. They can revisit experiences over time. That continuity allows for deeper exploration.
And because all the materials and spaces are available all the time, discovery isn’t limited. Whether it’s climbing, writing, building, or sensory play, it’s all part of the same landscape.
So instead of learning being directed, it’s discovered. And instead of being contained, it’s continuous.

Q5. Teachers also adapt to the environment they work in. How has this open design influenced the way educators observe, guide, and collaborate with children?
Holly Gold: It changes everything about how teachers work.
Instead of being responsible for one classroom and one group, teachers are part of a shared environment. They’re observing across spaces, across ages, across moments. They’re constantly communicating with each other, adjusting, supporting.
It requires a much higher level of awareness and collaboration. But it also allows teachers to really follow the child.
They can step in where they’re needed, or step back when a child is deeply engaged. They can connect with different children throughout the day, and children can seek them out as well.
And over time, those relationships deepen. Teachers aren’t just with a child for one year; they know them across years, across stages. They see their growth in a much more complete way.
It also allows teachers to bring their own strengths more fully into the environment. Some are naturally nurturing, some are builders, some are storytellers. And children gravitate toward that.
So teaching becomes less about managing a group and more about being in a relationship with children, with other teachers, and with the environment itself.
Q6. Looking ahead, do you believe the design of educational spaces will become a bigger part of the conversation about child development and what lessons from The Little School Approach could influence future schools?
Holly Gold: I want to say yes, but realistically, I don’t know. So much of Early Childhood Education policy is made on the legislative level without a true connection to what works for children and educators. Increasingly, young children are placed in public school classrooms with a teacher and possibly an aide in the name of early childhood education. Too many larger-scale private preschools are designed with individual classrooms separating families, communities, and teachers. Why?
For too long, policy holders and developers have accepted school structures designed around old models that were based on efficiency and separation, not around how children actually grow and learn. They haven’t questioned them enough. Where is the innovation?
The physical environment is not separate from the learning; it is the learning. It shapes how children move, how they connect, how they see themselves.
What I hope people take from the Little School approach is that it’s possible to design spaces that reflect real life, such as mixed-age communities, indoor-outdoor flow, continuity of relationships, and environments that are both consistent and dynamic. And also that this kind of environment doesn’t happen by accident. It takes intention, coordination, and a deep respect for children.
When you get it right, it feels very simple. It feels like a community. It feels like a place where children belong, where adults are comfortable, and life-long friendships grow.
Ultimately, that’s what the Little Schools are about: not just a school, but a shared experience that stays with children and families long after they leave.

End-Note:
The environment is not separate from learning. It shapes it every single day. The ideas shared in this interview challenge long-standing norms in early education. Instead of fixed classrooms and strict boundaries, the focus shifts to openness, movement, and connection. Children are given space to make choices, explore at their own pace, and build relationships across ages and experiences. Further, nature-based education supports mental well-being and resilience. These outcomes shape how children think, feel, and interact with the world as they grow. In the end, this model is not about a single school. It is a practical system for inviting curiosity rather than controlling it, making childhood a time of discovery, connection, and confidence.
Disclaimer: This article is for informational purposes only and reflects the views and educational philosophy shared in the interview. It is not intended as professional or educational advice.




