Life, Space, Learning
At the start of a new year, the world tilts further toward the unfamiliar. Each new headline lends even more uncertainty–a new policy, a crisis, or an event that shifts the landscape. Schools, in contrast, offer predictability: carefully crafted schedules, lesson plans, and stable frameworks. These structures provide clarity–they serve as a foundation for learners to explore and emerge as their future selves. But in a world that shifts from scalding to numbingly cold at the drop of a headline, how do we support our communities to remain not just structured, but adaptive?
“First life, then space, then buildings — the other way around never works.” Jan Gehl
At Leadership+Design, we often guide groups through learning walks, student shadows, and ethnographic research to uncover how culture and values actually live in a school. These observations can reveal such curious insights: how communities naturally adapt—how they bend, shift, and transcend structures like schedules, spaces, and frameworks to meet their needs as they arise.
An educator pauses mid-lesson to follow an unexpected student question about breaking news, shifting the day’s plan–and ending the session well after the next period should begin. A hallway, designed for passing, becomes an informal space where students post artwork and celebrate one another’s work. A tucked-away bench in the library transforms into a daily gathering place for peer tutoring, without anyone ever assigning it that role. These small moments—subtle, unplanned—are reminders that the structures we build don’t contain life; the lived experiences in our communities shape and reshape structures.
If we, as educators and leaders, pay closer attention, we might find ways to support these adaptations rather than rushing in with fixes of our own. One way to understand a community’s adaptability is to see it in action. Who improvises in response to a challenge? Where do systems bend to meet unexpected needs? These small, often unnoticed moments reveal more about how a school truly functions than any policy or blueprint.
So this week, observe your school differently. Take a walk—not to assess, not to fix, but to notice. Move more slowly than usual. Instead of looking for what should be happening, look for what actually is.
What follows are 13 lenses for observation—ways of seeing the subtle patterns of adaptation already unfolding in your school. These aren’t problems to fix but insights to honor. How might we support these adaptations and the needs they are intent on fulfilling? Instead of imposing additional structure, how might we amplify what was already working?
13 Ways of Looking on a Walk
Transition Spaces: What happens in the liminal spaces—between bells, between classes, between the structure of the schedules and facilities? Who rushes through these moments, and who lingers?
The Margins: Where might you see learning or connection occurring in unexpected spaces? What overlooked areas or moments become sites of creativity or curiosity?
Social Gravity: Where have community members clustered naturally? What makes certain spaces magnets for collaboration while others remain inert?
The Soundscape: What do these spaces sound like? Where is there silence, chatter, laughter, or deep focus?
The Thresholds: Where do transitions begin and end? Are there physical or social thresholds—doorways, stairwells, entry points—where people slow down, where energy shifts, where a pause exists before moving forward? How do these thresholds shape experience?
The Unscripted: Where do you see individuals breaking from routine? Where do improvisation and spontaneity show up?
The Helpers: Who do you see offering support to one another—explaining, translating, wayfinding? How does help show up in your community?
The Unwritten Rules: What behaviors do you sense are unspoken but clearly understood? Who moves freely, and who hesitates? What invisible barriers shape how people navigate learning spaces?
The Gap: What is the official story about what should be happening in a space, and what is actually happening? How are individuals adapting and shaping systems, spaces, and schedules to fit their needs?
The Invitations: What invitations exist in this space—what encourages (or discourages) certain behaviors, interactions, or connections?
The Ownership: Who feels ownership of a physical or social space? Who feels at ease adapting and shaping these spaces, and who doesn’t?
The Unexpected: What surprises you? What did you notice about spaces you have passed by a hundred times before?
The Memory: What past or future stories are embedded in a place? Are there traces of former uses, past traditions, or cultures of learning and gathering? How does this memory influence how people interact with it today?
These can reveal what adaptations are already working, and how communities are emerging to fulfill unmet needs. It reminds us that adaptation isn’t something we impose— communities can naturally evolve in moments they have space to breathe. Schools, like cities, thrive when they are shaped around how people actually live, move, and learn.
First life, then space, then learning—the other way around never works.
What adaptations do we see? What would it mean to more intentionally design to support the needs our community adapts to fulfill? What might we build—not to control, but to amplify—the real ways people are already moving, gathering, and learning?
What would it mean to design for emergence—the curiosities and adaptations we open ourselves to discover—rather than certainty?
