How Designing Cat Toys Helped My Students Learn Through Purpose, Not Just Process
When Jennifer D. Klein agreed to become a real-world client for my high school design class at the International School of Panama, I didn’t realize how much the experience would challenge my students and shift how they approached their work. The task seemed straightforward: design a toy for Jennifer’s cats. The real value came from what happened during the process, not just the final product.
Why This Project Worked
We opened with one question: How can we design a toy that not only engages Jennifer’s cats but also meets her needs as a pet owner?
This wasn’t just another class assignment. Jennifer met with the students and introduced the challenge: design an interactive toy that would keep her three cats engaged in a meaningful way. It needed to go beyond a basic plush or rolling ball. The toy had to be safe, durable, and ideally include some form of automation so it could respond when a cat approached. This grounded the project in a real-life scenario.
Because of this hands-on approach, students understood early on that they were designing for someone outside the classroom and for real pets with actual needs. That changed how they showed up. The work had meaning because someone else was going to use their final product, not just grade it and call it a day.
What Usually Gets in the Way
As powerful as this project turned out to be, I ran into the same roadblocks in past years when trying to create meaningful design challenges like this one.
Finding a real client has always been one of the toughest parts. In previous projects, I could get someone to meet with students at the start, but that was often the end of their involvement. The follow through–giving feedback, checking in, and seeing the final product–just didn’t happen.
That lack of engagement made the evaluation phase difficult. Students rarely had the chance to test their final product with the client or get feedback on whether the design worked. And without that, the project would often lose momentum near the end.
What made this project different was Jennifer’s ongoing presence. She met with students regularly, checked in on their progress, and gave feedback that shaped their thinking. It gave the project a sense of urgency and authenticity. The students knew someone on the other side was watching and waiting, not to grade them, but to actually use what they were making. In the final stages, members of the ISP community helped us test the toys with real cats, and this gave students the rare chance to see how their designs held up in action. In the end, it wasn’t just Jennifer they were designing for. It was the cats. They were the real clients all along.
How Students Responded to Real-World Expectations
Working with a real client gave the project direction. Students asked more thoughtful questions, like “How long is the cat usually alone?” and “What types of toys lose their appeal over time?”
They learned that Jennifer’s youngest cat often gets feisty and picks on the older ones when he’s bored, especially during long stretches when she’s away. Only then did students understand the toy couldn’t just be fun for a few minutes. It needed to promote independent play and hold the cat’s attention over time. They stopped thinking about what looked cool and started thinking about what was useful. Jennifer’s requirements helped narrow their focus, helping them let go of vague ideas and focus on solving a real problem with real consequences for the user: an energetic, easily bored cat who needed stimulation when no one was home.
One team realized their passive toy design wouldn’t keep the cats interested. They pivoted to something more interactive. Another group wanted to build an automated toy with sensors, but they ran into technical issues and time limitations. Some ideas didn’t pan out, but students learned how to evaluate and revise quickly. That mindset is what we want them to develop.
They saw that the first idea is rarely the best one and learned that progress comes from listening, testing, and refining.
Giving All Students a Voice
Different students participated in different ways. Some contributed through sketching and visual planning. Others led technical builds or were more vocal during group discussions. Everyone had a way to contribute, and as an educator, that’s what mattered.
I didn’t worry about every student having the exact same role or experience. Our standards allowed the flexibility to focus on skill-based outcomes, not fixed deliverables. In real-world design, not everyone does the same job, but everyone still learns how to solve problems, give and receive feedback, and stay accountable to the team. That’s what I wanted students to take away. The goal wasn’t identical outcomes; it was shared growth through different entry points.
We also had honest conversations when team dynamics weren’t working. If someone wasn’t participating, we asked them to reflect and then rejoin with a clear role. This wasn’t about being harsh; it was about being accountable and responsible for the work and each other.
Feedback That Helped Them Grow
Jennifer’s feedback as a “client” was taken seriously, and that’s exactly what students needed. They started seeing her comments as guidance, not criticism. This was the fuel that pushed them to improve.
For example, one group had designed a toy that made noise when triggered. Jennifer pointed out that one of her cats tends to be frightened by loud or sudden sounds. That single comment shifted their entire approach. They redesigned the toy to move silently using a motor and focused on visual and motion-based interaction instead. It was a turning point that helped students understand how real user feedback shapes meaningful design decisions.
Along with our client’s feedback, we used peer critiques and design journals. In the beginning, student feedback was surface-level. Four months later, they were giving each other specific suggestions. They weren’t just doing the work to pass–they were building better products together.
From Grades to Purpose
The biggest shift I saw was in how students thought about success. They stopped asking if their design was “good enough.” Instead, they asked if it would work for Jennifer and her cats. One group, for example, scrapped a nearly finished prototype after realizing it didn’t align with Jennifer’s feedback. They weren’t worried about losing points–they wanted to get it right. That kind of decision doesn’t usually happen in a grade-focused environment. But in this case, the motivation was different. They were designing something for someone real. The work had a purpose beyond the classroom, and that changed how they approached every part of the process.
This was the kind of learning I wanted to see. Not compliance, but purpose. It was less about checking a box and more about getting it right through iteration.
What Comes Next
This project had its rough edges. Some students ran out of time. Others overscoped their designs. But that’s part of learning, too. What mattered was how they responded to those challenges.
Jennifer helped us see what happens when students work for someone who isn’t their teacher. That dynamic changed everything. It wasn’t just about making a toy; it was about designing with intention, building empathy, and being accountable for the outcome.
I see this model expanding into projects with even more purpose. My students could explore food scarcity by designing tools for small-scale farming, finding ways to reduce waste, or supporting sustainable agriculture. Others might want to work with animal shelters or children’s homes, or design low-cost solutions for underserved communities.
As a teacher, I see the value of bringing emerging technologies like AI into the classroom, not just to speed up the design process, but to help students test ideas, model solutions, and think beyond limitations. Who knows? One day, a student might create something with the potential for mass production and real-world impact.
A Reflection Before You Try This
I came across a LinkedIn post by Evan Weinberg that put into words something I had been thinking about for a while: He said that not every classroom project needs to move through every phase of the design thinking cycle. I agree.
The design cycle is a solid framework, but not every project needs to move through every stage completely. In real-world projects, learning often happens in smaller loops of testing, improving, and adjusting. Sometimes, focusing on just one or two phases leads to deeper thinking and better results.
Looking back, I wish I had allowed myself that flexibility. At the time, I felt some pressure to follow the entire design cycle, thinking it was the only way to meet grading expectations. But reading Evan's piece made me realize that focusing on fewer phases could have led to richer insights and less stress for both me and my students. If I had seen this approach earlier, I might have made different choices that resulted in a better, more meaningful learning experience.
Trying to push every project through all the phases can create more stress than clarity. It also sets up a false idea that the process has to be clean or linear. In product design, most outcomes actually arise from a series of quick revisions. What matters is helping students build the habit of improvement, not forcing a perfect cycle.
Advice for Teachers Trying This
If you’re a teacher thinking about launching a product design or project-based learning experience, here are a few things I’d recommend:
Find a client who’s willing to stay involved. One meeting at the start isn’t enough. If you can’t get someone to commit to multiple check-ins, consider asynchronous feedback or a structured Q&A exchange. Even a virtual presence, like what we did with Jennifer through video conferencing (the whole time!), helps make the project feel tangible and meaningful for students.
Make time for feedback and testing. Don’t treat the final product as the finish line. The best learning happened when students tested their prototypes, listened to what didn’t work, and tried again. Some of the most important breakthroughs came after things fell apart. It wasn’t about getting it right the first time. It was about learning how to respond, revise, and improve.
Don’t make it all about a perfect product. One of the biggest mistakes we can make as educators is placing too much weight on a polished final product. Real growth happens in the messy middle through questions, failed attempts, and small adjustments. This isn’t a flaw in the process. It’s exactly how students learn best. And it mirrors how things are built in the real world. The products we use every day, whether it’s a phone, a chair, or an app, all went through cycles of testing and revision before they worked.
Let students experience that process. It prepares them for the world beyond school. It shows them that failure isn’t the opposite of success–it’s part of how we get there.
Don't let grades take center stage. The moment students stopped asking “Is this good enough?” and started asking “Will this work for the client?” was the moment everything shifted. Real engagement doesn’t come from chasing points. It comes from solving problems that matter to someone.
Prioritize collaboration, not just group work. In this project, students weren’t just dividing tasks. They were helping each other fix broken ideas, test incomplete ones, and think through feedback. That kind of teamwork takes practice. It has to be modeled, built into the process, and valued just as much as the final outcome.
Give students a reason to care. A real user. A real challenge. A real outcome. That’s what brought this project to life. And once the work felt real, students gave more than just effort. They gave attention, empathy, and creativity.
Why I’ll Keep Doing This
Projects like this take time. They’re unpredictable. Sometimes they feel messy. But they also lead to the kind of learning that sticks. When students create for someone other than their teacher, the work becomes personal. When they design with purpose, their growth goes far beyond the classroom. The evidence? Videos of happy cat clients playing with their prototypes, and students reflecting on how fulfilling it felt to see their ideas come to life and actually work.
That’s why I’ll keep doing this. And if you’re a teacher thinking about it, I say go for it. It doesn’t have to be perfect. Just make space for your students to design something that matters. The learning will follow.
Lee Steven Zantua teaches Design Technology and Product Design at the International School of Panama. With more than 20 years of experience in international schools, he creates hands-on learning experiences that emphasize real-world problem-solving, collaboration, and meaningful design work.
He holds a Master's Degree in Information Technology Education and is a certified MYP Design teacher. His students use industry-standard tools such as Autodesk Fusion 360, Arduino, laser cutters, 3D printers, and Adobe Illustrator to bring their ideas to life. Lee is passionate about integrating emerging technologies into the classroom and guiding students to design with purpose and impact.