BOBs Create Mirrors, Windows, and Sliding Glass Doors
Designing learning that connects students to themselves, to one another, and the world
When you hear the impact these projects have on kids of all ages, you understand why I share them so passionately.
Building Outside the Blocks projects — BOBs — are not just creative assignments. They are invitations.
They are invitations to see yourself.
To see others.
To step into the world with curiosity instead of compliance.
The idea of “mirrors, windows, and sliding glass doors,” articulated by Rudine Sims Bishop, reminds us that young people need learning experiences that:
Reflect who they are (mirrors)
Offer insight into lives beyond their own (windows)
Invite them to step into new perspectives and experiences (sliding glass doors)
Rudine Sims Bishop uses “Mirrors, Windows and Sliding Glass Doors” as an analogy to discuss the importance of diversity in books and the authors who write them.
BOBs are also designed with that in mind.
Mirrors: Seeing and Being Yourself
A BOB begins with universal design. There isn’t one “right” way to engage in the project. There isn’t one voice that gets elevated.
Students choose.
They remix.
They connect learning to lived experience.
I’ll give you a recent example.
My students were presenting their What About You Shines (WAYS) project. I had newly arrived twins from Korea — we’ll call them Zack and Zoe.
I offered them the option to present just to me in Korean, with Google Translate ready. They paused, then said that if I could do that for them, they would be happy to present in Korean to the class.
So we did.
I projected Google Translate onto the classroom screen alongside their slides. They signed up to present on the same day.
Zack went first.
He shared his piano playing — a video of himself practicing, explaining his lessons and the piece he’s currently working on. As a reserved student learning English, he often appears quiet. But presenting in his first language, he seemed more expansive. More himself.
When you hear a student in their mother tongue, you see dimensions that are otherwise hidden.
Zoe presented next.
She explained her love of puzzles. She showed different types of Rubik’s cubes and then did a live demonstration. It wasn’t just her confidence that came through. It was her humour. Her spark. Her joy — all things that had eluded me until that day.
But the best part came after.
After each BOB presentation, students offer feedback in the form of questions, comments, and critiques. It wasn’t just seeing the class ask them questions that reflected real interest in the lives of the twins, Zack discovered classmates who also play piano. Zoe sparked a weeks-long puzzle exchange — students bringing in their own combination cubes, comparing strategies, building connections.
One project catalyzed conversation. Shared interests. Community.
When a student sees their language, their culture, their questions — even their uncertainty — welcomed into the work, that is a mirror.
And when students feel seen,
they take risks.
They try.
They create.
Windows: Learning From Others
Because BOBs are open-ended and public-facing, students encounter one another’s thinking.
They don’t just submit work to a teacher.
They share ideas with a community.
In that sharing, they encounter perspectives they hadn’t considered. They hear stories that stretch their assumptions. They begin to understand that intelligence and insight don’t look one particular way.
During Precious Cargo, students brought in artifacts that represented who they are or told the story of themselves or a family member who immigrated to Canada. In sharing the stories of those artifacts, the class had windows into their mother countries, their culture, their heritage, their values, or even what they see as sacred from their lives.
One student shared a religious tradition unfamiliar to most of the class. In sharing about Iftar, the evening meal that ends the daily fast during the month of Ramadan. The questions that followed weren’t about right or wrong — they were about understanding the holy month and the related practices. That moment became a window. Not to judge. Not to adopt. Just to see.
Another example during a P3 (Personal Playlist Project) presetation, this boy shared a nostalgic song and performed a cultural dance.
For many in the room, it was unfamiliar. There were a few nervous laughs — not unkind, just unsure.
And he kept going.
He danced with confidence. With pride. With ownership.
That moment told me everything about the classroom we are building.
A window had opened.
His classmates were not laughing at him — they were reacting to something new. And instead of shrinking, he expanded. Instead of apologizing for difference, he embodied it.
By the end, the room had shifted. The laughter dissolved into applause. The unfamiliar became admired.
Windows can feel uncomfortable at first. When we look into a world we haven’t known, our nervous system sometimes responds before our empathy does.
But in a classroom where difference is normalized, students learn to stay. To listen. To recalibrate.
That day, his dance became a window — into tradition, faith, rhythm, and joy beyond their own lived experience.
Sliding Glass Doors: Connecting to the World
Sliding glass doors move us from passive observation to active engagement. They allow learners to cross the threshold into another perspective and consider what it feels like from the inside.
This can happen through critical and media literacy projects like Friday Photo that culminate to Snapshot: a Photo Synthesis. Or students may take action by creating media to spread awareness about a global issue through something like the Impact Project.
The most powerful part?
BOBs don’t end at the classroom wall.
They invite students to step through — to apply learning to real audiences, real problems, real conversations. Students move from consuming content to contributing meaningfully to creating it. Through projects that make their lives, interests and world(s) the conduit through which they build skill, autonomy, connection, and community.
A sliding glass door is not passive.
It requires movement.
BOBs make that movement possible.
There is something profoundly human about learning this way.
In a system that often reduces students to levels, marks, and rubrics, BOBs reintroduce complexity. Identity. Voice. Choice.
They create structured freedom.
They build belonging.
They help students see achievement as attainable.
These projects are accommodating and personalizing to the learner, their interests, their next steps on their learning continuum.
And when you hear students describe what it feels like to be trusted with that kind of learning — to see themselves reflected, to learn from others, to step beyond their worlds — you understand why this work matters.
We don’t just need better projects.
We need learning experiences that function as mirrors, windows, and sliding glass doors. When we approach learning in this way, we don’t just acknowledge diversity. We center it. We honour culture. We cultivate empathy by allowing students to inhabit perspectives beyond their own.
BOBs are one way to make that happen.
Thanks for reading Noa Daniel Builds Outside the Blocks! Subscribe for free to receive new posts and support my work.
I blog about teaching and my Building Outside the Blocks projects and initiatives. Here are some more posts that explain BOBs:
Turning Limits Into Launchpads
Giving Every Student A Chance to Dance
Beyond the Blocks: How Small Shifts Create Big Change in Education
Special thanks to iolanda Volpe for reminding me of this as she framed her recent Casual Conversation around SIms Bishop’s work.





This is a powerful illustration of what happens when learning makes space for identity.
The Zack and Zoe example says it all. When students can use their first language, share their passions, and present who they are — not just what they can produce in English — something shifts. Confidence expands. Peers connect. Community deepens. That’s mirror work at its best.
The “windows” moments feel just as important. The dance, the Iftar explanation — those slightly uncomfortable, unfamiliar experiences are where empathy is built. Not through a poster on the wall, but through lived interaction.
What stands out most is that BOBs aren’t unstructured. They’re designed invitations — structured freedom, as you put it. Voice with rigour. Choice with accountability. Identity within community.