As you step into the grove at Te Miro Forest School, you can’t help but be in awe of Craig and Jo Maddison’s creation —an outdoor school for three to six-year-olds, nestled among towering kahikatea trees. The calls of Kereruu echo through the forest, cicadas hum in the background, and the laughter of children at play drifts through the air.

For Craig Maddison (School 1983–1985), the forest has always been a place where life makes sense. Craig’s childhood was shaped by both loss and opportunity. When he was just six years old, his father passed away, but his father’s legacy ensured Craig could attend St Paul’s Collegiate School. However, in the 1980s, there wasn’t the support for learning that Craig needed, meaning school wasn’t easy. Craig struggled with dyslexia, finding the traditional classroom setting challenging. But when he arrived at Tihoi Venture School, St Paul’s outdoor education campus, everything clicked.

“I was no good in the classroom, but get me outdoors, and I came alive. I loved the house setup at Tihoi, with the fire, no power except for a plug for a toaster and a radio,” says Craig.

After finishing school, Craig went into farming and then sharemilking before spotting a niche in the market and launching his own dairy farm effluent business in the Bay of Plenty. He designed and built the pumps and machinery himself, creating a successful operation. Then, meeting his wife Jo changed everything.

With seven children between them, Jo—a midwife—struggled to find daycare for their children. So, with no formal training, the couple decided to start their own. Craig designed the plans for the childcare centre, and together they built Little Einsteins. Jo swapped midwifery for teaching, earning a degree in early childhood education, and the daycare quickly flourished.

However, as time went on they wanted something different, something that aligned more with their values. They began taking small groups of children from their daycare on an excursion to a forest twice a week.

“This is where we learned we didn’t want to be just tripping into the forest—we wanted to live in it,” says Jo.

That’s when the idea of a Tihoi-style preschool education centre took shape. Craig began searching for land—somewhere they could create a forest school. For five years, he knocked on farmers’ doors, asking if they would sell a piece of land to the couple but was unsuccessful. In 2021 they discovered a beautiful, raw, unspoiled native bush property in Te Miro, (20 kilometres from Cambridge), with a stream running through it. But the farmer’s response was a firm “No.” Craig didn’t give up. He kept working on the farmer for more than eight months, and finally, the answer changed to “Yes.”

However, the land was far from ready. Craig and Jo spent months clearing away old rubbish, broken glass, and abandoned cars. But with every challenge, their vision only grew stronger and they held true to their family mantra;  you never lose, either you win or you learn. 

Every item at Te Miro Forest School is recycled, repurposed, or built by hand. Even the Kura Centre is an old speedway clubroom from Rotorua that was set to be burned down. Jo laughs as she remembers the shocked looks from neighbours when they trucked in the rundown clubrooms.

“There were lots of moans and complaints, I even put out a public apology to the Te Miro community on the Facebook page, asking them to bear with us,” says Jo. Once the clubrooms were in place Craig started the renovating, even the toilets were from an old school where they no longer met regulations. Known as the ‘Trade Me king,’ Craig is always on the lookout for someone else’s junk to turn into a treasure for the Forest School.

Since opening in February 2022, 35 children plus dedicated staff arrive daily at Te Miro Forest School, ready to explore. They work with animals, make mud pies, and feed the eels in the stream. It is learning without walls. And what happens when it rains? “The children grab their gumboots and jacket and off they go,” says Jo. 

For Craig and Jo, this isn’t work. “We retired five years ago,” Craig says with a grin. “This is just living the dream.”

And the impact? “Enormous,” says Jo. The forest environment brings out the best in children, fostering resilience, cooperation, and kindness. “It still surprises me,” she reflects. “If a younger child falls, there’s always an older one reaching out a hand to help.”

Each year, for Mother’s Day and Father’s Day, the school invites parents to spend the day with their children in the forest. “It’s always funny to hear the parents say, ‘Ooh, be careful!’ or ‘Watch your step!’ or ‘Can you really go up that?’” Jo laughs.

As you stand among the trees, watching children climb, create, and care for one another, you realise—this isn’t just a school. It’s a gift for the next generation, one that feels more essential than ever in a world dominated by screens and technology.