A student’s board game idea shows how curiosity, not compliance, can launch real learning.
Olivia didn’t bring a backpack to her first day of high school. She brought a rough prototype for a board game.
Instead of being handed a syllabus, textbook, or a stack of worksheets, she sat down with me for a one-to-one conversation. I asked her the same question I ask every new student at Astrolabe Academy: “What do you know in your heart you want to do? What sparks your interest right now?”
That question became her launchpad.
Over the next few years, Olivia turned her board game idea into a polished product and, for her graduation capstone, developed a Kickstarter campaign. Along the way, she picked up skills that most schools only talk about. Skills like project management, design, collaboration, marketing, and financial literacy. She didn’t learn these skills by memorizing standards, filling out packets, or grinding through lectures. She learned them the way every entrepreneur learns—by building something that mattered to her.
Her story captures what we try to do at Astrolabe Academy. We replace compliance with curiosity.
The Supply List Is Short
Most teenagers begin the school year with a backpack loaded with binders, calculators, rules, textbooks, and the unspoken weight of grades and GPAs. The overarching message of conventional school is one of measurement, not meaning.
We wanted something different. At Astrolabe Academy, the only requirement on day one is that students bring curiosity and aspirations. The year begins, not with a supply list, but with a conversation about their dreams. Some know exactly where they want to go and have a solid image of what they want their lives to look like when they graduate—for instance, to become an animal conservationist with an internship at the Australian Zoo. For others, it is nebulous, so we talk about passions that may lead to projects like starting a podcast, learning to code, diving into marine science, running a small business, or writing a novel.
Our role as guides is not to hand them a checklist, but to help them let go of the measures they’ve been told are most important and begin setting goals tied to who they want to become. Those conversations set the tone for the rest of the year. It serves as firm permission to understand that their education is theirs to shape.
What Changes When We Begin with Curiosity
Once a teen realizes that their ideas are valid starting points on the new educational journey, their energy shifts dramatically. Suddenly, they are not just doing “schoolwork”; they are building something that belongs distinctly to them.
That’s what happened for Olivia. What started as a rough prototype and ideas on paper, became a complex design challenge. She had to think about mechanics, play-testing, artwork, manufacturing, and storytelling. To raise funds, she had to research marketing strategies, build a budget, and write copy that would resonate with supporters.
In chasing her own idea, she built skills most adults use daily: planning, collaboration, resilience, and financial awareness. None of this was taught through a lecture or graded with a rubric. It was learned in the doing. And, it carved a path for life-long learning, critical thinking, time management, and problem-solving.
The Contrast with Conventional Schooling
High school often promises preparation for the “real world,” yet it rarely gives students the space to experience the real thing. Teens are told to wait until after graduation to start experimenting and chasing meaningful work. In the meantime, they march through state and federal standards and GPAs, hoping that one day the pieces will connect.
But what if preparation looked more like participation with connection? What if the first day of high school set a different tone? Instead of “Here are the requirements,” we ask, “What do you want to build?”
When we start with curiosity instead of compliance, teens discover that their passions aren’t distractions from learning. They are the doorway into it.
A Simple Invitation
Not every student will launch a Kickstarter campaign, and not every school can overhaul its system overnight. But parents and educators can begin shifting the back-to-school ritual in small ways.
Instead of handing out a supply list, try beginning the year with a story circle. Ask each teen to share a dream, a question, or a challenge they’d like to take on. Trade binders for brainstorming. Even a simple conversation can set the year on a new trajectory.
Olivia’s story is proof of what can grow when we allow and encourage teens to begin with their dreams. She learned far more than how to build a board game. She learned how to take an idea and bring it to life.
And maybe that’s the point. The most powerful school supply our teens can carry into the year isn’t a backpack. It’s a dream.
