Monday, June 16, 2014

In the Service of 'Ah Ha' Education

For over twenty years, each school year I accompanied my young middle school classes outside to the creek where they undertook a variety of environmental activities: collecting macro invertebrates for later exploration in the classroom; testing: water turbidity, pH, hardness, temperature, depth, stream flow; noting bank health and visible signs of human impact (green lawns, trash).  While I understood the validity of these methods of environmental education, I was also aware that the true benefit of the creek field work was far more to support and sustain interest in the outdoor world than to reinforce curricular content.

Our middle school spanned grades five to eight. I had elected to remain at the five-six level because I felt it was here I would have more curricular freedom to introduce science concepts in manner that captured the real excitment of exploring the world - and captured it without the burden of latter dragging students inside and 'testing them' on what they'd experienced.  Of course, I prepared them dutifully for the outdoor explorations. Indeed we often did formal group assessments of the creek health using well established protucols based on macro-invertebrate populations. And yes, they dutifully filled in a lab notebook noting the results. However, I was always acutely aware that most of this information/learning would fade quickly as they moved subject to subject each day being exposed to ever increasing banks of other information. Yet, I also knew that their surprised responses to first viewing the gills of a mayfly larva or the mating behavior of scuds would last far longer.  Here was a world they'd never known existed despite, for many, years spent playing in and about the creek.

It was in providing my middle schoolers with the tool of the dissecting scope that I believe I served them best as a teacher/mentor regarding creek life.  The names, dates, general data related to the experience, while justifiably important in a science class were secondary to the 'ah ha' moments generated by simply seeing the small world up-close. And these 'Ah Ha' moments often took place outside without my intervention. The large animal hole a group discovered in the lawn, the odd red roots of the trees along the bank, the ability of rising creek waters to move large rocks, the hidden worlds under the bridge that carried traffic over the creek, the difficulty of walking across a rocky streambed - all produced varying levels of wonder. In a world freed from formal assessment tied to specific curricular demands, it is obvious any motivated teacher can build an entire year's program around students' wonder especially given the accessiblity of outside experts and other resources via the Internet.

In this world, the workshop oft-quoted popular advice:  "Be Not a Sage on a Stage, but a Guide on the Side" takes on real meaning. In this world, other teachers suddenly are excited by the field trips to local natural habitats that result in students missing a day's lesson in the (math or English or French or Art) classroom because they understand such explorations can also generate a wonder that can be connected to their own disciplines.