Since joining the Child Life team in Rochester a year ago, Michael Wridt, a licensed schoolteacher, has brought learning to the bedside — and the Mayo Clinic Children's Center atrium — with creativity and kindness.

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If you pop into a pediatric transplant patient's room, you might see a model of a heart next to the bed. And not just any heart, but a life-size copy of the child's heart, created with a 3D printer using the patient's diagnostic images.

This is the doing of Michael Wridt, a licensed schoolteacher who joined the Child Life team at Mayo Clinic in Rochester last year. 

The heart models, courtesy of the Anatomic Modeling Unit, are his creative way of helping the kids understand the "why" behind their time at Mayo. With stays potentially stretching to hundreds of days, Wridt is determined to pack as much life — and learning — into those months as he can.

And, ideally, he'll soon hand them a second model, this one of their donor heart.

While Wridt loves special moments like these, he places equal importance on the everyday encounters that allow him to continue patients' education during their stays.

"I try to be as creative as possible to make it engaging and special for the kids," he says. "Having something normal, routine, not 'hospital-ish' is super important for them. We have fun, and they're learning without even knowing it."

Filling an unmet need for Mayo's youngest patients

Prior to joining Mayo, Wridt taught at nearly every grade level, including in special education, and worked as a Montessori administrator. He also brings a decade of experience in technology, which he uses to lead the department's technology committee.

Perhaps more noteworthy to the kids, Wridt brings the fun. 

Families are really relieved to find we offer these services right here. It's one less stress they have to worry about.

Jenn Rodemeyer

His rotation of colorful eyeglass frames — from Snoopy to Star Wars to Sesame Street — signals his deeper desire to engage the kids, not just instruct them. With his experiential approach to education, Wridt has quickly become indispensable to the Child Life team, pediatric patients and their families, says Jennifer Rodemeyer, the manager of Rochester's Child Life program.

Although the state of Minnesota requires local school districts to provide tutoring for children after 15 consecutive days of hospitalization, this leaves some educational gaps among Mayo's pediatric patients. 

That's where Wridt comes in. His primary focus is working with patients' schools to keep their education on track while they're at Mayo.

That can look different for every child.

With the intermittent nature of cancer care, oncology patients might stay for a few days, go home, then come back again, disqualifying them from tutoring support. Other families don't expect to stay as long as they do, leaving them without a clear plan for schooling.

Patients with special needs might have Individual Education Plans that their parents don't know how to continue. Some students might simply need supplemental support, often in math or language, as they complete their assignments from school. 

"Families are really relieved to find we offer these services right here," says Rodemeyer. "It's one less stress they have to worry about."

When planning his days, Wridt consults each child's health record and the Child Life staff, nurses, psychotherapists and the child's school. Then he formulates his approach.

"I can be teaching a 5-year-old to read with Bob Books, working with an upper-elementary kiddo on complex grammar, or supporting geometry or creative writing with a high schooler," he says.

Every day, it's something new. And with Wridt, it's never boring.

Engaging pediatric patients in creative ways

Unlike many hospital tutors, Wridt is part of Mayo's staff, rather than working for the school district. This means he can more easily tap into the organization's resources, like the Anatomic Modeling Unit, and offer his services year-round.

This summer — his second at Mayo — his creativity was on full display.

"During the summer, the kids still want to hang out, but they don't want to do school," Wridt says. "So I shift to creating opportunities for them to just do fun stuff."

I want to get their minds off everything that's happening around them — to let them leave that space mentally or emotionally. That makes the whole hospital experience less draining, right?

Michael Wridt

One of his first ideas was to work with patients on simple 3D printing projects. The kids enjoy creating trinkets — everything from heart-shaped keychains to a "toilet paper hammer," courtesy of a recent five-year-old patient.

"I've started bringing the printer to their rooms," says Wridt. "They pick out the color of the filament, I show them how to change it, and they push all the buttons. They just love sitting and watching it."

With the interests of long-term patients as his guide, he regularly hosts kid-friendly events that sneak in a lesson or two, like the recent egg drop in the Children's Center atrium. Using a stash of supplies — Styrofoam cups, tape, tissue paper, fabric, toothpicks — the kids had to pad their eggs for a balcony plunge, with the goal of using as few materials as possible.

"Every day I went through about 60 eggs," says Wridt. If an egg survived the fall, "I'd toss it up, and then the patient would throw it down (unwrapped) and smash it. It was lots of fun."

There have also been DIY lava lamps, erupting volcanoes and a giant pumpkin — which proved an easy way to teach the kids about circumference. Upcoming plans include an International Festival, where Mayo volunteers will wear traditional garb and share their cultures. Pretend passports will add to the experience.

Since not all patients can leave their rooms, Wridt is investing in virtual reality gear, which will provide social interaction as the kids journey together into the heart, visit the pyramids or fly to the moon. He also creates educational content for Mayo's closed-circuit TV channel for kids and livestreams activities like the egg drop for those who can't attend.

"I want to get their minds off everything that's happening around them — to let them leave that space mentally or emotionally," he explains. "That makes the whole hospital experience less draining, right?"

The heart of his role

While Wridt loves the challenge of developing programs, it's the interactions with patients that keep him motivated to innovate.

"I love these kids so much," he says. "I have developed some really cool relationships, so it's tough when they leave."

Recently, Wridt bumped into the father of a first grader who'd been discharged a few weeks earlier. The man shared that his daughter missed the sound of Wridt's voice.

Tears sprang up behind his silly Snoopy glasses, reminding him of exactly why he's here.