Last year, a group of my fifth graders decided they wanted to help people experiencing homelessness.

Their original plan was ambitious.

They wanted to go downtown and hand out gloves, blankets, food, and other supplies themselves.

I admired their enthusiasm.

I did not admire the idea of sending a group of fifth graders into downtown Cincinnati to distribute supplies to random strangers.

So this was one of those rare moments when “I don’t know. What do you think?” needed to be accompanied by a little adult intervention.

Fortunately, one student’s mom had a connection with City Gospel Mission, an organization that works to help the local homeless population.

Someone from the organization came to talk with the students about what they actually needed and how kids their age could help in a meaningful and appropriate way.

That conversation changed the project.

Together, they landed on two goals.

Decorate 500 lunch bags for children who receive meals to take home after school.

Collect 500 pairs of gloves for children who might need them.

The students were all in.

In fact, they initially planned to crochet all 500 pairs of gloves themselves.

I told you they were enthusiastic.

Eventually, some quick calculations helped them realize that perhaps hand crocheting 500 pairs of gloves was not the most practical plan.

But they didn’t make the goal smaller.

They made the team bigger.

They enlisted the rest of the school.

They organized the collection.

They got other students involved in decorating the bags.

They spread the word.

And by the time they were finished, all 500 bags had been decorated.

They had collected more than 800 pairs of gloves.

And here’s my favorite part:

I did almost nothing.

I delivered their plan, in the form of a letter, to the principal.

That’s pretty much it.

They had the idea.

They built the plan.

They realized when parts of that plan weren’t going to work.

They found another way.

They brought other people into it.

They followed through.

We talk a lot about student agency in education.

Usually we’re talking about learning.

Let students make choices.

Let them pursue questions.

Let them design solutions.

Let them have some ownership over their work.

All of that matters.

But I don’t think agency is ultimately about letting kids choose how they complete an assignment.

Agency matters because eventually we want children to use it for something that matters beyond themselves.

To notice something and think:

That matters to me.

I could do something.

I don’t know exactly how yet.

But I can figure it out.

Of course, children still need us.

Sometimes their first idea is to send a group of ten year olds downtown to hand supplies to strangers.

Sometimes they plan to crochet 500 pairs of gloves.

Agency doesn’t mean standing back while children attempt absolutely anything that occurs to them.

It means helping them learn how to turn:

We want to help.

into:

How can we help well?

Then, whenever we can, we step back and let them do it.

Those fifth graders are in middle school now.

Their project should have ended when they left.

Except this fall, our contact at City Gospel Mission reached out.

Would our school be willing to decorate the lunch bags again?

The kids who received them had loved them.

Of course we would.

And I made sure the students who started the project knew.

Something they created in fifth grade was still here.

Their contribution had outlasted their participation.

I think that’s what I want children to understand about their ideas.

They can travel farther than they do.

They can invite other people in.

They can become something another person carries forward.

We don’t have to wait until children grow up to ask what they might contribute to the world.

They are already here.

Already noticing.

Already caring.

Already capable of making something better.

Sometimes they just need an opportunity to discover that for themselves.

Children don’t have to wait until they’re adults to have something meaningful to contribute.

They already do.