Why Lima Ridge Elementary Just Became the National Blueprint for STEM Education

The first thing you notice when you walk into Lima Ridge Elementary on a typical Tuesday morning is the noise—not the chaotic kind, but the productive kind. The sound of materials being handled, the low hum of children solving problems, and the sporadic excited shout when something clicked. In this building, science seems to permeate every aspect of the day, including how teachers converse with one another in the hallways, rather than being limited to a specific time or space.

That culture wasn’t created by chance. Kurt Scheiderer, the principal of Lima Ridge Elementary, recently received the Administrator Award for Leadership in Science Education from the Science Education Council of Ohio, which seems to agree. This award recognizes not just one program but also what it takes to create something that transcends individual classroom moments.

After being nominated by district technology integration specialist Vicki Willet and STEM teacher Chris Sommerkamp, Scheiderer, who is currently in his 29th year of teaching, was given the honor. This could easily be presented as a heartwarming local tale about a committed principal in a school district in Licking County. It deserves more serious consideration than that. Because Scheiderer’s creation at Lima Ridge precisely addresses what most elementary schools consistently fail to do when attempting STEM education.

Why Lima Ridge Elementary Just Became the National Blueprint for STEM Education

Adding a STEM class is the standard strategy, and it’s actually quite common. Purchase some robots, establish a coding station, and set aside a space. For students who are already drawn to science, this is somewhat effective. For those who don’t, it basically does nothing. “We needed someone who could provide professional development and help integrate STEM thinking throughout the building,” Scheiderer stated of his search for the ideal person to spearhead the endeavor. Scheiderer began with a completely different premise: that STEM is a way of thinking, not a subject, and that this way of thinking must be present throughout the school day, not quarantined in a lab period twice a week. He discovered that in Sommerkamp, who currently oversees not only the STEM lab but also a materials library available to all building teachers for practical instruction in their own classrooms. One should not undervalue the importance of that library. Teachers’ lack of preparation is one of the most enduring obstacles to STEM in elementary schools; Brookings research has shown how many teachers actually experience anxiety when teaching science. Giving a third-grade teacher the resources and tools for a practical, hands-on lesson without making them create it from the ground up is a structural solution rather than a call to action.

Scheiderer did not use a textbook to arrive at this model. He visited programs that were operating elsewhere, spoke with teachers and administrators, collected what could be replicated, and eliminated what couldn’t. He brought concepts back to Licking Heights and created something that was specifically designed to meet Lima Ridge’s needs—a detail that is more important than it may appear. Educational initiatives frequently fail because they are imported wholesale from a context that is completely unrelated to the receiving school, not because the underlying ideas are flawed. Scheiderer took a methodical approach to this that seems more like engineering than management.

The core of Lima Ridge’s philosophy is a seemingly straightforward change in focus: process over product. This is the notion that failure is a method of learning to be practiced rather than a setback to be avoided. Students are encouraged to try unsuccessful strategies, figure out why they didn’t work, and try again. “When kids learn how to solve problems, they start to see themselves as scientists,” Scheiderer stated. The real work takes place during that reframe, which is the identity shift from science student to practicing scientist. This is the kind of thing that cannot be produced by a curriculum package that comes in a box.

Another factor that sets Lima Ridge apart from schools that maintain STEM inside the building is family engagement. Every year, STEM Night engages parents and guardians in the same practical activities that their kids do during the day. It may seem simple, but it takes a lot of preparation and dedication to make this happen every year. As a result, STEM is not limited to the classroom. Families begin expanding the concepts at home through building, cooking, and experimenting, so the inquisitive 8-year-old who constructs a bridge out of popsicle sticks in class has a parent at home who recognizes the significance of that.

Looking at what Lima Ridge has constructed, it seems as though the parts are not particularly unique. None of this required a new facility, a collaboration with a university lab, or a technology grant from a large corporation. What was needed was a principal who recognized that culture is infrastructure, meaning that learning actually occurs because of the unseen way a school views education. Scheiderer gives his teachers a lot of credit, pointing out that they are eager to watch each other’s classrooms and implement what they observe. That spirit of cooperation doesn’t just happen. It is grown.

There is no clear answer to the question of whether this model works in larger, more complex school environments, such as urban districts with higher staff turnover or schools with fewer resources and more pressing needs. What works in Pataskala might need to be adjusted in ways that haven’t been determined yet. However, the fundamental concept—that elementary STEM should be a cultural commitment rather than an add-on course, backed by shared resources and headed by someone prepared to break down barriers for teachers—is neither difficult nor costly. It’s simply more difficult than it appears. Lima Ridge has succeeded in doing so.