The Tinkering Studio presents some unique design challenges when it comes to creating experiences for visitors to the museum, but perhaps the most pressing is time. We allow visitors to choose the length of their engagement with us, which impacts design in two major ways. One one hand, we have to design activities to have a quick entry point which allows visitors to have early successes; we refer to this as providing a low threshold for the activity. At the same time, we have to design activities to have enough depth that over the course of a prolonged engagement — say, 1 to 2 hours — a visitor can “complexify” their exploration as they get deeper into it; we call this providing a high ceiling.

To accomplish all of that in a drop-in setting, we have found that it is crucial to rely on abundant examples in the space. As visitors approach the Tinkering Studio and then start building and making, examples serve both to inspire and spark their initial curiosity — to get them in the door, so to speak — but also as quick starting points to guide initial experiments and directions. Without examples, visitors don’t know what the activity is about and why they should dedicate a good chunk of their time to it; but also, as they sit at the table to make something, having a few examples or models can soften the “blank slate” effect, that feeling of not knowing where to start and what to do with the materials available.

However, there is an art to creating and displaying the right kind of example for a tinkering activity. It is tempting to come up with and display beautiful, clever, polished pieces so that visitors can fully grok the potential of the activity and be inspired to create their own equally ambitious project, but we have found that this can easily backfire.

We were confronted with this phenomenon with particular force during this winter’s long engagement with Cranky Contraptions, an activity that by nature skews a little more product-focused than others. Our initial approach to offering examples was to try and go for interesting, stimulating, and whimsical contraptions that showed a variety of ways to work with simple mechanisms and linkages. Unfortunately, we saw that a high percentage of our visitors took them as models to copy rather than starting points to generate their own ideas.

Inspired by one of Keith Newstead’s Trash Automata I made a cranky contraption version of an elephant that rears up when the handle is cranked. The mechanism is interesting, with the pivot point being all the way at the back of the elephant and the crank slider at the front, so it’s a good example to include. But the elephant is too complete a narrative element, it looks like a finished piece and so it can function as a substitute for creative expression rather than a spark for it.

In an effort to minimize copying while preserving the mechanism I made a version that used less “attractive” materials, like plain cardboard, a less polished construction and general appearance, and what I thought was a weird enough look — some sort of vaguely rhino-esque beast but with feathers? — that nobody would want to make another one of that specifically. I was wrong. It got copied verbatim too!

A frog, a penguin, and pipe cleaner flowers all got copied many many times. Of course, this is somewhat unavoidable: providing inspirational examples is important and some percentage of people will always choose to make life easier for themselves, or simply feel more comfortable starting by copying something as a way to develop expertise and facility with the activity. But it is worth thinking about the balance between those kinds of examples and other types, which don’t lend themselves to copying so much while still providing valuable information to visitors.

So, what are the qualities of a “perfect” example? I’ve been thinking about it a lot, and here are a few thoughts:

• I think a very good example should contain a hint of narrative, the equivalent of an opening paragraph, but leave the ending very open. The bowler hat example above has a little bit of a story in it (“man says hello by lifting his hat,” perhaps) which could be reinterpreted with different characters or props — it intentionally doesn’t have a face, and following versions also did away with the suit decoration to leave just a plain cardboard trapezoidal body.

• It should show an interesting idea, but one that can be expanded or adapted in many different ways, not a closed finished piece. The penguin example looks great and moves beautifully, but it’s very complicated and hard to understand as a system. It’s hard to isolate just one element of all the linkages and movements in it and adapt it to a different idea. The bowler hat man does one thing, so if you need that type of motion in your unrelated project it’s easy for me as a facilitator to bring this example over and suggest it might be adapted to your needs.

• It’s easy for a visitor to see how it could be improved upon. This is a big one: the best examples have fairly obvious shortcomings that generate ideas for improvement. An ideal reaction from a visitor is to think: “Oh, cool. But look, you could also just do this…” Which indeed means that the perfect example is, actually… imperfect.

• The example itself can be tinkered with and used as a model to work out something about your own project. This is not always possible, depending on the activity, but for Cranky Contraptions I tried to make a couple of examples that were meant to be working models to figure out relationships between pivot points and constraints — this idea was also inspired by the way Keith works out his own automata.

This strange little device offers little in terms of narrative, there isn’t much that invites copying, but the three articulated pieces are made with several possible pivot points (the various holes in the craft sticks) and the constraining wires can be anchored at different points along the base — by moving the skewer sticks around — and at different lengths (notice the double loops at the end of the wires).

In fact, the whole idea behind this was that it could be manipulated by visitors to experiment in a low-consequence way with those relationships until they got to a movement they liked, then translate that into the narrative of their choice, as you can see in the examples above. Nothing in the example suggested “fish,” that was completely learner-driven, but I would say that without spending a good amount of time familiarizing herself with it it would have been almost impossible to create the amazing articulated fish that resulted.

So, somewhat painfully, we decided to go on an example purge and put away all the ones that only showcased how clever the person who made it was, and only kept the ones that allowed room for the learner to "fill in the blanks" with their own ideas, imagination, problem posing, and personal expression, and the experience of the activity on the floor was better for it. As you set up an environment for tinkering, it is worth thinking carefully and critically about what type of examples you populate it with and why they are there.

In anticipation to Scratch Day we have been experimenting in the Tinkering Studio with the awesome video sensing ability that is built into Scratch 2.0. As usual, we have spent some time playing and prototyping ideas that make use of video sensing internally before trying it out with the public, but one of the big hurdles in the context of the Tinkering Studio is how to get visitors engaged meaningfully, within a short time, with something quite complex—programming an interactive animation using an unfamiliar environment (Scratch) and making use of advanced tools (video sensing from a webcam). Here is the way I approached it today.

I started with a simple program running: a parrot is flying on the screen and when “captured” by the net it disappears. To make it reappear you have to shake the tree with the net. This is achieved simply by having the sprites responding to the color of the net (off white). I first encouraged kids to play with the program as it was set up and pointed out the various parts, like the camera, the virtual sprites, and the code that was animating the parrot. After a while I asked if they would like to add their own character to the animation and make it do something. They all enthusiastically said yes! I encouraged them to make their own using the construction paper available.

Once a character was created I helped them bring it into Scratch using the camera function and magic wand to get rid of the background. Having a camera already mounted pointing straight down at the stage made this super easy and fast. Having a character that they created in physical form be transported inside of a virtual world was at once magical and meant kids were immediately invested in what happened to it. I asked a pretty open ended question: “What would you like your character to do?” and gently nudged them if necessary toward thinking about movement first. How should it move?

From there I pointed out the Motion section of Scratch and had them drag a couple of initial blocks (like move 10 steps and turn 15 degrees) onto the stage, start clicking on them and notice what happens to the sprite. I encouraged them to play around with the values, notice how the movement changes. I encouraged them to snap two or more blocks together and see what happens when you string commands together. Finally I revealed the repeat and forever loops as a way to avoid clicking repeatedly on the code and making the character move autonomously. This led to a more intentional phase of experimentation with values and blocks to see what kind of movement they could get out of their character. I found it very interesting that every kid had a clear idea of how their character should move, determined by the nature of the character itself, and that led to very different bits of code and behaviors. A butterfly moves very differently than a dragon, naturally!

Once the visitors were satisfied with the movement of their creature, I re-introduced the net from the beginning, asking them now what should happen to the character when it is captured by the net. Once again, every kid had a different idea in mind for what their character should do in that situation!

Jade’s butterfly moves erratically and very fast on the screen, and when captured by the net it disappears for 10 seconds, then reappears.

Jailen and Jayden’s dragon (the similarity between all the kids’ names is purely coincidental!) glides smoothly on the screen and when captured it breathes fire. Of course a dragon’s fire breath is blue, didn’t you know? In this case it also required a trip to the Costumes tab where the kids duplicated their sprite and hand-drew the flame, then we worked out how to switch costumes based on whether the net was touching the sprite or not.

The most interesting part to me is that when introducing the net as an interactive device, the first thing kids said was something along the lines of “I want it to do X when the net catches it.” When I pointed out that the computer doesn't know about the net, it can only detect either color or motion, everyone autonomously came up with the solution of having the sprite react when touching “white.” I think this is a good example of abstracting a high level goal into a set of instructions that a computer can understand and work with.

All these interactions were around 20 to 30 minutes, and I think that for such a short engagement it resulted in meaningful and authentic exploration of programming, Scratch, and a fairly sophisticated technology such as video sensing. This is definitely a more scaffolded and guided approach than we usually adopt in the Tinkering Studio with lower threshold activities, but perhaps in this case it is the better approach. I also noticed that many of the parents who were not previously aware of Scratch were very impressed with how easy it is to introduce programming concepts and practices and mentioned wanting to continue playing with it at home. The fact that Scratch itself is free and this particular approach only uses a webcam and readily available materials certainly contributed to them feeling they could do so easily.

This project was made possible through the generous support from the LEGO Foundation

The Tinkering Studio team is excited to announce a hands-on tinkering workshop at the Exploratorium! The workshop is designed to investigate together how tinkering and making experiences support fundamental STEM thinking and learning, and is aimed at educators from all backgrounds, settings, and experience levels. During three days together we will explore tinkering and making activities that blend science and art explorations, exemplify best practices for critical thinking, and incorporate creative ways of becoming active participants in the process of tinkering and making.

The workshop is articulated around core tinkering activities designed to build upon each other over the course of three days. We will alternate between delving into making and tinkering with a learner’s mindset, and then carefully reflecting and deconstructing those experiences through an educational lens. At the end of our work together you will be equipped to formulate a practical action plan to take the logical next step to implement tinkering in your practice, whether you are just starting out, or are interested in expanding an existing plan. You will also meet other educators from all kinds of backgrounds interested in the same work, and will make lasting connections to support each other!

“How do I apply?”
Send a letter of interest to tinkering@exploratorium.edu! We ask that you commit to the full three days of the workshop, and we strongly encourage you to come with a colleague or thinking partner. There is a fee for this workshop, which will cover:

• All supplies, tools, and consumables materials used during the workshop
• Electronic activity guides and a copy of The Art of Tinkering book
• Continental breakfast, snacks, and full lunch each day of the workshop

“Having an understanding and confidence to move back and forth between directing and allowing space is foundational to making tinkering really work for learning.” — workshop participant

The Art of Tinkering workshop will be led by Tinkering Studio educators who have worked with over 100,000 learners of all ages, in settings as diverse kindergarten classrooms, graduate school courses, community centers, public schools, Tibetan monasteries, science museums, and cultural festivals around the world.

The fine print: Workshop participation is limited, and applications will be processed on a first come, first serve basis. The workshop fee does not cover costs associated with travel, hotel, or meals and incidental personal expenses.

There are many different approaches that can be explored with any of our tinkering activities, and in our constant effort to develop and refine our own practice we like to vary our own ways of presenting things, and try out new stuff. Taking a page from an approach we tried in the past, during a recent PD workshop with teachers from La Scuola International School we adapted a thinking routine from Agency by Design’s Project Zero called Parts, Purposes, and Complexities in this manner.

We gave participants example movements with the sides covered up, a big sheet of chart paper, and a single colored marker. We asked participants or use the marker to sketch all the parts of the box they could see, identify their purpose, then try to imagine what mechanism might be inside the box to create the movement above, and make a sketch of their hypothesis.

Immediately sketches and ideas started forming and being represented on paper, and we saw interesting strategies being used to figure out the mystery mechanism.

One popular strategy involved using all the sense and the body to enact movement and communicate with partners ideas and key observations. Sound became a powerful clue, and I noticed several people taking careful note of when the paper covering up the sides bulged out during the rotation of the crank, or whether the triangle moved smoothly throughout its arc or had sudden “jumps” up or down.

Others modeled what they thought they would find inside with found and improvised objects to scaffold their thinking.

After some time we collected all the green markers and switched them for black ones, allowed the participants to open up their boxes, and instructed them to observe the mechanism inside, sketch the differences from what they imagined, and also carefully note which parts of the construction were glued to each other, and which were allowed to move freely. We were working with 50 teachers at once, and this activity typically requires a lot of facilitation, so we were hoping that by structuring this initial observation phase more rigidly it would help them avoid making costly mistakes when it came to building their own.

After that, we opened up the activity to freely build, and the teachers were quickly engaged in their own ideas, goals, and aesthetic choices.

If you are experimenting with Cardboard Automata, or are planning on facilitating the activity with a large group of people, this might be a helpful approach to pursue. Try it out and let us know in the comments how it went!

Some highlights from the day below.

From planning phase to finished execution: a tinkering sign holder and a Neapolitan scene.

A peacock’s tail feathers opening mechanism.

A fantastic owl, and celebrating a success just as time was running out.