Monday, October 28, 2013

Changsheel, Day 6: The Last Hill -Or- The Importance of Feral Children

After the serious weather we had the night before, we were all quite pleased to see the sun shining when we stumbled out of our tents. It was the last day of trekking, and the students were quite energetic. As we hiked down the mountain, I thought about the 50 km (!!!) that we had just hiked, the sights and and vistas we had seen, and the value of this week we had together. Because I work mostly with Junior School, I didn't know many of these 10th graders when we started on the trek, but I felt like I had a genuine connection with (almost) all of them, and that we had developed some cool relationships during our time together.

Ain't no party like a Changsheel party! Weary and triumphant after our last leg of trekking.

Splashing in the river.

One of our beloved mules.


A couple days later, this article was posted on Facebook via The Guardian by the Hanifl Center, which illustrates the importance of such outings: http://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2013/oct/07/education-children-not-feral-enough

The author, George Monbiot, defends the important of outdoor education through his own experience leading students in fieldwork as well as through hard data. He writes of the enlivening effect of being

outdoors, and explains, using several studies and reports, the benefits of bringing students out of the classroom and allowing them to simply explore the natural world around them. Students had "sharp improvements in attention", better long-term memory. He also points out a study done in the United States:

"Teenage girls taken on a three-week canoeing trip in the United States remained, even 18 months later, more determined, more prepared to speak out and show leadership, and more inclined to challenge conventional notions of femininity."

This particular study interested me, because, as a feminist and a teacher, I have a vested interest in understanding the catalysts that create strong, resilient, powerful women. Something I learned on the trek I just completed is that, while many of the students would whine during the hiking portion of the trek, they would perk up completely when we reached camp. By the time the trek was done, I would hear these two sentences, often with a smile: "I'm never hiking again,"and then, "I can't believe we walked 50 km in 5 days!" This tells me that, at this point, students are confusing a difficult task with a negative task. Yes, hiking is hard, but how awesome will you feel when you look back and think about the difficult situations you overcame? There is a serious sense of pride that accompanies such a journey, and treks like these are sometimes the first time that young people, especially young women, feel a very real sense of accomplishment. You might be able to fake it through that English test, but you definitely can't fake it up a mountain, and the more you procrastinate, the later you get to your tent.

Despite the multitude of studies, anecdotes, and positive testimonials from students and teachers alike, funding is being systematically cut for outdoor education programs, according to Monbiot. There is a disconnect between support on paper and support in funding, and students are feeling it, especially those who have spent their lives in urban settings. Monbiot questions the value of an education system that only "fosters and rewards a narrow set of skills." He had noticed a boy with particularly acute observation and intuition in the natural world, and later found out that no one had ever informed the boy of his own remarkable skills and that he was struggling in school. This boy had never had the opportunity to showcase them in his particular school context. What is the use of an education system if it does not embrace the abilities of all of our students?

Monbiot directs our attention to the word "feral", reiterating the definition: released from captivity or domestication. Our students are not feral enough, he says. They must be reintroduced to the wild or suffer the consequences of captivity in a classroom of four walls.

My personal experience on this trek has been an overwhelmingly positive one, despite the difficulty of the task. I was able to see the beauty of nature, the resilience in my own body and the bodies of those around me. I cultivated relationships that would never have been started if not for this trip. I stretched my physical, mental, and spiritual boundaries, and grew closer to nature as a result. Just five days of trekking, and I feel like a bigger person. If we could get every student out in the dirt, exploring and surviving, at least once a year, what might that mean for the engagement in our classrooms? What might that mean for leadership in our communities, for a greater gender balance in the sciences, in education? Some amazing changes could take hold, and it would be as easy as exploring a park, or taking a field trip to a farm. Let's head outside!

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