Welcome
Each month we bring you news, ideas, theory and the voices of those teaching on the frontier of what’s possible in education.
May 2020, Issue #1
In this issue,
On the podcast this month, Michelle from Berhampore School talks about what changed when she started listening to her learners.
We share some interesting whispers from the frontier that grapple with the idea of supporting learning now we can’t control what kids do.
The theory of learner agency and it’s intersection with the curriculum has been on Bevan’s mind.
A book about existential risk makes Bevan wonder about the relationship between knowledge and wisdom, and how that relates to school.
Melanie and Diane from Wellington Girls College are this month’s guest writers, and they give us a glimpse into how they foster learner agency in senior English.
Whispers from the frontier
Anyone been feeling a little, Hello, hello??? Is there anybody out there?
The kids are getting the hang of doing their own thing. Control and compulsion is gone for the time being. Perhaps it’s time to broaden our definition of learning? Or even re-conceptualise our role in it.
It’s certainly the case that those things often spoken about as being important when supporting learning, but which quickly get buried among the urgency of school work, are emerging as essential in these times when teachers can only influence the learning, not control it. Here are three examples of those things in action lately:
A connection with the local, natural world. We know that a firm link to the whenua is important in helping us understand where and who we are, and our relationship and responsibilities to that place and its people. It’s so important it’s even listed on page 8 of the New Zealand curriculum. I think New Zealand Geographic magazine speaks to this really well.
Creative thought and expression. New solutions, being original and inventive, communicating through the arts, imagining what might be, interpreting the world, exploring possibilities, BIG C/little c creativity - however you want to interpret it, everyone, regardless of age, is creative in some way. It’s just more visible in the young as they tend to be more playful in their daily lives. But it doesn’t have to be. A lot of web activity has highlighted the importance of creativity for all, with Afternoon’s with Jessie Mulligan ‘competition’ to create a LEGO critter being a great example.
Relationships based on acceptance. Virtual meetups are the new normal, but they just aren’t the same as face to face. However, what are you seeing in those meetings? Are they ‘check in/up’ times, or are you alert to the small tiny clues that reveal what kids are interested in? If you are, what ‘school learning’ exists in those interests? How you can influence it? This approach requires faith in the process and trust in the kids. Opening yourself to that way of relating to learners is a different kind of relationship too.
Theory on my mind
I’ve recently completed a podcast series for the Wellington Literacy Association focused on the development of literacy in contexts driven by learner agency. It was a great opportunity to focus deeply on something I believe: that learning happens best when the learner is in charge. This belief is what drew me to play as a pedagogy. Play, I came to realise, is learner agency in action.
This is all very nice, of course, the idea that if we just let the kids play and follow their interests all our education problems will be solved. Of course they won’t. The question must be: when the learner is in charge are they still learning? I think the answer is yes … or no: it depends on what you think learning is.
School, especially as kids get older, is really about knowledge transmission. Sometimes we pretend it’s not, but no-one can get NCEA in the Key Competencies (for good reason, I might add - how awful would it be to ‘Not Achieve’ in those human qualities - but still ...). When knowledge transmission is seen as the primary focus of school learning, it’s quite easy to think that no, kids aren’t likely to learn when they are in charge because we can’t be sure they’ll learn what ‘we’ need them to learn. I think some of the negative reaction to distance learning at the moment, and the resulting urge to track what kids are up to, stems from this concern.
But if you believe there is more to learn about the world than school defined knowledge, then the answer must be yes. And note that this claim is not saying school knowledge is irrelevant, just that it’s a part of the picture, not the picture itself.
John Holt contended that in play
“Children use fantasy not to get out of, but to get into, the real world.”
This is true. Watch a kid play and you’ll notice what they are interested in about the world. My daughter is interested in movement and relationships. Pretty much all her play explores those things, and it’s allowing her to develop deep understandings of the different ways in which those interests manifest themselves in the world. Recognising this, we can see that play is both ‘just play’ and ‘more than play’. It’s the immersion of oneself in things that matter, and we know it’s through immersion that we develop deep understanding. That’s what Malcolm Gladwell’s 10,000 hour theory was about.
Now, this doesn’t necessarily solve the problem of the curriculum. Schools have legal responsibilities here that cannot and should not be ignored. There are also social and community expectations regarding what schools will provide. But this is not to say the only way we can get curriculum learning is to take control away from our kids and make them focus on what school decides is important. Take my daughter: ideas about movement and relationships can be found in many learning areas of the curriculum. Would her immersion in those interests be enriched by the injection of learning area knowledge? Very likely. Is her learning in those learning areas going to be more effective if it’s separated from those interests? Hmmm.
We are really lucky in New Zealand to have a curriculum that is explicitly about learners getting into the world. The Vision says we want “Young people who will be confident, connected, actively involved, lifelong learners” which to my mind is just a long way to say the same thing. Surely, we have a responsibility to think deeply about how this happens so that school is a place where the vision becomes a reality. And surely the path towards it is not solely through knowledge transmission and assessment. Is it not possible that a great way to develop “confident, connected, actively involved, lifelong learners” is to support the pursuit of what learners are interested in?
When we’re creating contexts in which learner agency can be expressed, what we’re also doing is creating space for interest to drive learning, and this applies equally to all ages. When we’re in the act of doing and pursuing things that are personally meaningful, we aren’t only doing that thing in the moment, we’re also looking ahead, imagining what might be, wondering what this thing will do and lead to. We’re playing with possibility. In other words, we exist in the fantasy space where we imagine how we can be connected and contribute to the world.
This is the power of learner agency. Not only does it give learners the chance to do the things they want to, if used to drive learning in a school setting it also provides a supported space in which learners can turn those visions of their future into something. School teachers have expertise to support this learning and enrich it, to open doors and broaden horizons, to help kids get into the real world. Just as the New Zealand Curriculum envisions.
Reading spotlight
I’ve been doing a lot of reading this last month. While others were making a run on the supermarket prior to lockdown I made a run on the local book store, although I’m not sure what I was thinking when I added Toby Ord’s book The Precipice to the pile, which is an analytical breakdown of all the existential risks facing mankind!
Anyway, it proved to be a worthwhile read, despite the moments of despair (especially during the pandemics section). Ord sprinkles his analysis with references to wisdom. He runs the analogy throughout the book of the span of a human lifetime as a way to think about the potential lifespan of humanity, suggesting humanity is only in its teenage years. Accordingly, he says, we act like teenagers. Which means what’s missing, as he points out, is what teenagers are missing too: wisdom. He says, late in the book:
“I’ve argued our current predicament stems from the rapid growth of humanity’s power outstripping the slow and unsteady growth of our wisdom ... We’ve seen how humanity is akin to an adolescent, with rapidly developing physical abilities, lagging wisdom and self-control, little thought for its longterm future and an unhealthy appetite for risk.”
This feels true to me. And that thought makes me wonder what education is for. The rapid expansion of knowledge humankind has experienced has allowed us to do things that were inconceivable only a generation ago. A lot of that has been positive for us, but also some of it has the potential to lead to our demise. Which begs the question: should school be a place where kids mainly immerse themselves in acquiring the knowledge that has given us such power, which is currently is the case? Isn’t that replicating the issue Ord identifies? Shouldn’t we also consider how to combine acquiring knowledge with the development of wisdom?
But how is wisdom gained? The rule of thumb says it’s through experience.
I don’t pretend to have the answer here, but I can’t help thinking there needs to be more chances for learners to experience the consequences of applying knowledge. Perhaps this is something worth discussing.
Guest piece
This month, Melanie Eade and Diane Henjyoji from Wellington Girls College give us a brief insight into their ‘alternative’ English course. The course, which seeks to foster learner agency, is into its second year now and has grown from two classes in 2019 to six in 2020. Here is a taste of their experience.
Project English
Imagine if a secondary classroom was an enticing, physically comfortable, interesting place to be just like ECE centres or many primary school environments. What if students felt so comfortable and relaxed they talked to you and shared the things they were truly interested in albeit with a slightly embarrassed and shy tilt to their heads initially? How could we use what they were actually interested in learning to motivate them as well as clock up the NCEA credits along the way? What would teaching be like if we put relationships and learning first and let the assessment fade into the background?
This is what we’ve tried to do in our new course. We still have ‘normal English’ for students to opt into, but judging by the explosion of students choosing to take the alternative Year 12 and 13 ‘Project English’ we are doing something right. Is it scary to trust teenagers to learn without being encouraged, nagged, leaned on and given due dates. Yep. Do some of them ‘waste’ their time and not get much done? Yep. They also do that in ‘normal’ classes. It is incredible to be truly culturally responsive for the first time in your teaching career by doing nothing more than creating a safe, accepting place where we are genuinely enthused about whatever interests the students. Our teaching is highly personalised and differentiated because we teach through conversation. We’ve learned that a ten minute chat is far more effective than a 50 minute Google Slideshow presentation with a few learning tasks thrown in. We’ve got Lego, plants, quiet spaces, noisy spaces, low sensory spaces, an inspiration table, games, magazines, craft material and seating options. We’ve had a tent, a dog, teacher’s children, visiting speakers, food and a karate session in the classroom. We’ve been more attuned to observing the students and adding provocations or ‘invitations’ into the environment, essentially using it as the ‘third teacher’.
Ultimately, this course has taught us that putting students and learning first not only works and works well, but also that teenagers are desperate for someone to trust them. After all, whose class is it?
Contact us if you have any questions, or are curious:
melanie.eade@wgc.school.nz and diane.henjyoji@wgc.school.nz
Q & A
In this section, I will pick up on a couple of themes or threads that seemed to really prompt engagement in the comments section and provide a summary of some kind. In doing so, my intent will be to broaden the ideas that come out of the comments in a way that isn’t quite possible when discussing in the moment.
All contributors to The Smata Bulletin are able to participate in the comments section, so pick their brains!
That’s it for this month. I hope you’ve found this issue thought provoking and interesting. If you have, please share widely.
Michelle’s email is michelles@berhampore.school.nz
The second issue of The Smata Bulletin will be published on 31 May.
Until then, stay safe and healthy.
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If you have a story from the frontier you’d like to share, get in touch.
bevan@smata.co.nz
The Smata Bulletin Issue 1 May 2020