Play expert Lizzie Assa, known on Instagram as @theworkspaceforchildren, explains why doing less helps children build more confidence.
Lizzie Assa, M.S.Ed.
Founder, The Workspace for Children
Why is independent play such an important part of a child’s development, and how can adults encourage it without taking over?
Independent play is so much more than a kid stacking blocks in the playroom. It’s where self-trust starts to take root. That same self-trust is what you want years down the road, in the second-grader who falls off her bike, gets back on, and keeps pedaling, or the college kid who can handle a wide-open afternoon without waiting to be told what to do. When kids get to be in charge of their own play, they practice taking the lead instead of waiting for direction, and they learn to trust themselves to figure it out when something gets hard.
The hard part for adults is not taking over. Most of us think playing with our kids means playing a role and making up the plot of the game. There’s a place for that, but if we want kids to learn to play independently, we need to do less on purpose. When your child says, “Play puppy with me!” you can say, “Okay, sure. What should the puppy do?” When they say, “Build a tower with me,” instead of building the whole thing with a bridge and a balcony, you say, “Okay! Tell me where to put this block.” We want the kid running the show. We’re the support, not the director. That’s how kids build the confidence to lead their own play, and to love doing it on their own.
Many parents worry they’re not doing enough. What does “enough” actually look like in early childhood?
Do less on purpose. I help parents shift from being the entertainer to being the facilitator of their child’s play. Every parent decides what “enough” looks like for them. For me, enough is a few small, consistent moments of real connection — putting the phone all the way down and giving my kids my full attention a few times a day, or letting the car ride home stay quiet while they eat a snack, instead of peppering them with questions and to-dos. Enough looks like setting the stage for them to figure it out, not doing it for them. That can mean putting cups on a low shelf for your toddler, with a stool by the sink so they can get a drink themselves. It can mean letting their tower fall instead of jumping in to fix it. You don’t have to be there every minute. You don’t have to narrate everything they do. A few small moments of connection, a few real moments of laughter, those feel like enough to me.
How can early childhood educators create environments that encourage curiosity, confidence, and problem-solving through play?
By building a community first, instead of running a top-down classroom. Young children are just learning how to be in a new space, away from their preferred parent or caregiver. Instead of drilling numbers and letters, I focus on an environment that supports independence and emotional safety. The materials come next.
Young children need repeated experience with the same basic, sturdy, open-ended materials that let them lead their own play. A basket of crayons lets a 2-year-old make their first marks and learn that how hard they press changes the mark. Give the same basket to a 4-year-old and a circle becomes a face, two lines become legs. They don’t need bells and whistles. They don’t need a new craft or activity every day. They need the time and space to let the materials grow alongside their own capabilities.
Instead of spending morning meetings on outer space or farm animals, I encourage teachers to talk about what the children actually lived that day. What did you work on this morning? What was tricky? What do you want to share? These topics pull kids in, and that leads to better behavior, longer attention spans, and children who feel like the experts of their own small world. Fill the room with materials that reflect their real lives: a dollhouse, small people and animals, modeling dough, loose parts, and unit blocks, instead of activities with one right outcome.
What role does healthy risk-taking play in early childhood, and how can educators help children explore safely?
Children need the chance to take a risk, fail, and figure out how to try again. That’s exactly how kids build self-trust. It looks different for every child, and every teacher has a different comfort level. It starts with our own shift, from “It’s my job to protect the children” to “It’s my job to partner with them and teach the skills that keep them safe.”
The difference sounds like this. Instead of “Stop! Be careful! Don’t do that!” you say, “This shovel can dig big, deep holes. It’s heavy, and a little sharper than the ones the 3-year-olds use. You are 5 now, and ready for more responsibility, but I need your help. What rules do we need so we keep each other safe? Let’s decide before we head outside.”
If a child needs help thinking it through, I tell a story. “Last year we had a strong, excited digger. She made the biggest holes, but sometimes she’d raise the shovel up over her head, and I worried another child would get hit. So, we made a rule and helped each other remember it: The shovels stay below our hips. If you forget, I’ll be right there to remind you. If it’s still too hard, we put the shovels away and try again tomorrow.”
What happens when we take a community approach is that the children start taking responsibility for themselves and each other. That’s how you build risky play and community at the same time. It never stops amazing people how capable children are when we give them the support and responsibility they’re craving.
What everyday moments do adults often overlook that can have the biggest impact on a young child’s development?
The in-between moments; the ones where we let them do the heavy lifting, even when it feels a little too big. For example, letting your 2-year-old pour their own cup of water, and handing them a rag in case they spill, or cheering on your 3-year-old as they order for themselves at the bakery while you stand right there. These small moments let children see themselves as capable and important. They’re wired for this kind of growth, and so often we jump ahead and do it for them. When we let them try something slightly too big and support them when they stumble instead of fixing it for them, we’re teaching them to trust what they’re capable of.
