This year more than most I have returned to what I call
keeping it simple at the sensory table. The latest setup is as simple as it gets. It is my blue sensory table filled with
Jurassic Sand. Next to the table is a smaller clear sensory table. There is also a five gallon pail on the floor next to the sensory table.
Here is a view from the other end. As you can see, the tables look warn with use, a lot of use. That is the setup. Could it be any simpler?
It does not get much simpler than this.
This may be a common setup in many early childhood classrooms. It is usually not in mine, so why did I revert to it this time? I have to admit that time constraints were part of the initial reason. Building a new apparatus every week takes time. In the spring, I seem to have less of it as we begin planning for end of the school year events. Once I decided on a simple setup, though, another reason came to the fore: Directly on the heels of a
complex setup, what types of play would emerge with such a simple setup? Would the children even choose to play here without an apparatus?
To understand the type of play that emerged from this setup, you need to see the utensils and the loose parts that accompanied this setup. Besides the usual spoons, scoops, cups and bowls, there were natural elements such as sticks, rocks and pinecones.
They did indeed play and play in some very engaging ways. Let's start with the sticks. For one child, the stick became a real tree that he planted in a cup and "watered" with the flowing sand.
The child who has planted to the tree is on the right. If you look at the other two children, you see that they are mimicking the pouring of the child with the stick. How does that happen?
Children love rocks. They will collect them, pile them and bury them. What one child discovered was marvelous in an ordinary sort of way. The child in the video below realized he could make marks on a rock with another rock.
What made this marvelous and so ordinary were the words he used before he showed me that he could make marks on the rock. He simply said: "Look what I can do." Who needs paper?
The pine cones provided an invitation for the children to create little trees. But when the "sand rain" came, one child noticed that the flow of the sand through the scales of the pine cone was a cascade of sorts.
A second child was also pouring sand on the same pine cone, but he was doing it fast. The sudden downpour just accentuated the cascade of sand down and through the scales of the cone.
Later in the week, I added another implement: little minnow nets. Children appreciated how the Jurassic Sand flows. The minnow net slowed the process so the children could appreciate it even more.
Not only did it slow the process of sand flowing, but it also spread it out so the flow was more dispersed.
One thing I did not expect was to be transported back to the very first apparatus I used at the table: the
Five Gallon Pail. I forgot how important it is to be able to transport the sand out of the table into a simple bucket. Not only is it important, but it can also be pretty exciting. These boys are filling the bucket and squealing with joy. Watch.
And it was not enough to just fill the bucket. Each child had to take his turn to test his strength to see if he could lift the pail. None of them could, but then one child blurted out: "Teamwork. Everybody grab here."
Even with teamwork, though, they could barely move it. That was not important. What was important was the joint effort that created a bond that will carry over to other joint actions when they decide to work together as a group again.
I will continue to build, but I have a renewed appreciation for the simple.
Can the simple inform the complex? Can the complex inform the simple?