LIFETIME OF DISCOVERY
New RAM gives kids primo space
If youngsters don’t know 100 languages when they enter the new Children’s Gallery at the Royal Alberta Museum, they ’ll add a few to their repertoire before they leave.
But the languages may not be English, French, Japanese or Cree. Children will learn to speak light, wood, sand, and sculpture — all mediums known to stimulate young brains to suck up knowledge.
The multiple languages of children is part of a learning theory known as Reggio Emilia — after the storied region of Italy that is a world leader in children’s education.
The philosophy fostered by Reggio Emilia is a key component of the new Children’s Gallery at RAM, and can be seen in numerous outstanding features (including a wind machine and a light table) of the 7,000-square-foot facility devoted to children under the age of eight.
“This is a canvas for children’s play,” says Nancy Thomas, an assistant professor at MacEwan University and the early learning and child care chair.
Thomas visited the new space with the Journal, lending her expert eye to the tour. She wandered amid the displays and interactive contraptions, stopping to play with children visiting with their parents and grandparents.
Though most anyone taking in the Children’s Gallery would be impressed with its design — a light-dappled library lumped with bean bag chairs and board books such as Feminist Baby invites a cosy read — having an expert assessment framed the experience in a different way. Layer upon layer of potential learning was revealed. While the space is simple, it’s a reminder that little ones don’t need high-tech and complex (although there’s a bit of that, too).
Take the sand table. Perched above the daycare standard is a projection system that changes the topography when children drag their fingers hither and yon. At one point, a pool of water is revealed, shimmering with small fishes. Thomas observed a child observing those fishes, and invited her to pick up a fish by using her hand as a sand scoop. It was magic, as if a real fish was wiggling in her palm. The child’s delighted smile said it all.
Though parts of the gallery have a familiar feel (even old-school Mr. Dressup had costumes, and minislides for toddlers are standard fare), there is a clear difference between this space and other childfriendly play areas. Every part of the gallery reflects the collection of the $375 million, 400,000-square-foot mother ship. Each lesson is inspired by the history of Alberta, and the museum’s two-million-strong collection of objects.
No accident, that.
“We want children to become museum-goers at their own age and at their own development level,” says Carleen Greaves, children’s program co-ordinator at the RAM. “And then we hope that they’ll come to enjoy the museum at different ages. It’s very much about the excitement about the environment, the objects, the exhibits and the interactives.”
When children first step into the gallery, tucked into the front of the larger museum and full of natural light, they meet the boreal forest. Giant, autumn leaves suspend from the ceiling, and actual tree trunks are displayed, so children can stroke the gnarly bark and see the rings inside. The names of the trees are printed in French, English and Cree.
“So often, we put things for kids in the back,” reflects Thomas. “This space is prominent. It says come, play.”
The province’s agricultural heritage is also revealed, with a collection of seeds and grains, and something called the “big machine,” a tall structure alive with wheels and gears that could mimic anything from a grain elevator to a hay baler.
Near the big machine is a dig pit, meant to conjure the Badlands. The skeleton of a giant Pachyrhinosaurus (care of the Royal Tyrrell Museum in Drumheller) looms over the area, which has deep pots of black pebbles teeming with smallscale dinosaurs. Kids explore using archeological tools, and glassed-in cases with genuine artifacts such as primitive hand tools rim the space.
My favourite display was the wind machine. Children push buttons, and tubes shoot powerful streams of air that propel PingPong balls or an airy scarf. Children were fascinated by it, and adults, too.
For the crawlers and early walkers among us, there is a padded area with mini-slides and soft mats. Even babies have a place here; mirrors are anchored near the floor, with handles so babies on bellies can pull themselves up and peer at their own faces. Mirrored triangular boxes on the floor make it possible for wee ones to wiggle inside and look at themselves from every angle. Who doesn’t love that?
Around the corner, things are geared to the older child. A large dress-up area is meant to be a chautauqua, or travelling entertainment tent that was a feature of the Prairies in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. A toy room exhibits playthings of yesteryear from the museum’s collection, including Fisher-Price classics and Erector sets from the 1950s and ’60s. Expect those items to change regularly, providing the opportunity for parents and grandparents to share memories of their childhood toys with youngsters.
“It is both timely and timeless,” says Thomas. “I am impressed.”
Toward the back of the gallery is a big maker space with play tables spilling simple building tools, such as blocks. Thomas said the tables were an example of what’s known as “loose parts” in early learning circles. “They’re about tinkering, and they have infinite possibilities,” she says. “Early learning is about co-constructing knowledge. We’re building theories, together.”
Next to the Children’s Gallery is a large, as-yet-unused space designed for boisterous school groups who stream off buses for a day at the museum. Drop-in educational programs for the community will commence in 2019, and even now, there are animators onsite daily to point out highlights and fun areas for exploration.
Overall, Thomas was enthralled with the new space because it takes the work of children seriously; even the sound and colour palate, mostly nature sounds and neutral shades, makes children the main attraction. “Kids should bring the colour and life to children’s spaces,” says Thomas.
The way a space is designed for children “speaks to the image of the child” and in the past, spaces for youngsters might have been decorated in cartoon greens, or sugary pinks.
“When children’s spaces are saccharine and sweet, that shows what we’re saying about them,” says Thomas. “But children are mighty learners, and citizens. What the space here seems to say is that there is real learning here.”