Becoming the Thing You Imagine

There’s something quietly magical about a child picking up an old newspaper and saying, “I think I’ll be a tiger today.” Not drawing one. Not reading about one. But becoming one completely, earnestly.

At Know School, it’s common to see bits of scrap paper turn into all sorts of things - crowns, wings, tails, claws. A simple hat folds into a knight’s helmet. A crumpled page transforms into a dragon’s scales. The energy changes the moment the children begin - there’s a kind of hush, but it’s alive. Their hands lead the way, their eyes follow, and their minds catch up somewhere along the path. What might seem like a craft exercise is often something deeper, something pulsing with intent.

Here, a paper costume isn’t just a fun activity. It’s a small act of becoming. Of testing out courage, or flight, or fierceness. A child wrapping a strip of newspaper around their shoulder isn’t playing dress-up,they’re asking a quiet question: What if I was something else for a while? And they don’t need anyone to answer. They figure it out on their own terms.

Of course, things fall apart. Wings don’t stick, tape gives way, shapes collapse. But someone steps in to help. Or they try again. Slowly, through trial and laughter, the costume takes shape. Not perfectly, but just enough. Enough to believe in. And that’s the real moment of learning, not in neat edges or clean glue lines, but in the small fire that gets lit when something imagined becomes wearable.

And then they move. They become. A child hops with a beak that flaps just a little too much. Another sways with a tail trailing behind. They laugh, growl, hide, peek out. And in all this, confidence quietly rises, not because anyone claps, but because something inside them clicked into place.

By the end of it, the costume might be in pieces. Paper torn, bits of string loose. But something lingers, a small voice inside that says, I can make something from nothing. I can try. I can imagine. And maybe, just maybe, I can become.

We don’t run lessons on creativity. We just leave the table open, keep the tape handy, and wait. The rest unfolds on its own, one idea, one fold, one glorious mess at the edge of a child’s world.