...It is an attempt to consolidate a pedagogical mind shift that started in 2020 when I began my Queen's journey by completing a Teacher Librarian diploma, and then beginning my Professional Master's in Education that will be completed in the fall of 2024. Finally, this website is also a way for me to share with and describe for other teachers, young and old, what I do every day in my classroom. It may also help parents, administrators, and even students to understand my role a bit better, as well. Above all else, it is a living document of many of the stories I tell and keep telling in my career (not all, but many).

One story is called 'The Importance of Creativity'. This story helps me get through pretty much every day in my job. Creativity in teens is much like Rick Rubin describes it in The Creative Act (2023) - a way of being in the every day, a kind of flexibility of thought that may have little to do with being an artist, or so-called 'Big C' creativity. My students are mostly 12 and 13 years old in their grade 8 school year. Self-conscious, awkward, somewhat jaded, they are just at the age when creativity seems typically dampened. They would be (and are) the first to describe themselves as creative? NOT. In contrast, kindergarten students, when given a paper clip, imagine myriad uses for it (Guilford, 1967; as cited in Sternberg & Williams, 2010). To teens (and nearly all adults), typically a paper clip is just a paper clip. Ultimately, in my experience teens tend to stay silent rather than speak; they fear embarrassment more than they crave the spark.

However, that spark is essential for solving the world's problems – both big and small. It is my heartfelt belief that we need a generation who, not only speaks out, but has the flexibility in thinking to see a way through climate disaster, ecological decimation, and socioeconomic collapse. One where, in a century or two, human beings are still able to inhabit this planet we call home.

Another story, closely related, is called 'The Idea Factory'. In essence, I like to think that this is what my classroom is, a place where we churn out more thoughts than we know what to do with. We post them, save them, combine them, set them aside and come back to them later. We write about them, draw them, laugh about them, and above all, value them. Even the weird, silly, and downright bad ones. Because, well, you never know.

A third story is called 'Outdoor Education, or Playing in the Dirt'. What I never knew when I started on my graduate studies journey in 2020, was just how much I could transform my classroom by leaving it, often for long periods of time. My students and I, in the early days of Covid, couldn't pay attention to what was happening in the world without questioning our purpose crammed into classrooms without windows for hours at a time. Supposedly, 'Schools Were Safe'…when nowhere else was. (That is another story, probably #79.)

So, we went outside because we could, and when the worst of the Pandemic was over, we kept on going, because we still needed to, perhaps even more than before.

I started asking some big questions of myself on a daily basis, questions that cut deeply into the core of what it means for me to be a teacher: What is most important? Why am I here? How can I help these young humans feel safe and loved? How can I help them become good humans? And when I started thinking about my curriculum, I began asking questions like these ones:

Can I use outdoor education to inspire my middle school students to think and communicate creatively about a world that matters to them?

Can I use a school garden project(s) to encourage students to care deeply about each other, about the planet, and about their own futures?

Can creative writing inspired by nature help build citizenship and environmental stewardship in the 21st century?

My belief is that students can't learn to care about the world unless they are really out there in it, not just viewing it from behind their screens. And they can't have ideas about the world, about what they are thinking and writing and planning and doing, unless they experience the joy in the present moment that we tend to lose as grownups. So, students need to dig in the dirt, they need to walk along the pathways, they need to shade their eyes from both the sun and the rain.

At a time when my students were stuck indoors and seemed complacent, they were actually desperate for a connection with their peers and the world, and for meaningful relationships with their teachers, their parents, and each other. Story #4 is 'Connecting with Others', and it's a long one.

So, it's not 'Big C' creativity that will change the world – or at least not entirely. It's the freedom to think and experience and value all those 'little c' thoughts, the ones that might turn into bigger thoughts or stories or pictures or poems, and a student's belief in themselves to think them. 'Hope gives ideas wings', or some such adage. Or maybe I would rather say, hope turns little seeds of thought into really big green growing things, maybe even an oak tree or hibiscus. Students can't do that without practice, without generating boat-loads of ideas, without connecting to something bigger than themselves.

The great Richard Wagamese reminded us that we truly know another person when we listen to, and genuinely hear, their story: "It is what we arrive with. It is all we leave behind" (Richard Wagamese; cited by Hilton, 2021, p. 51). So, unless the human race itself is to be left behind, it is time to listen to the story the world is telling us, and in return tell each other (and listen to) all the little stories that, together, make us who we are. This story is called 'What Saves Us in the End' or 'Saving Us (From Ourselves)'.

So, my students learn to generate ideas, great big swathes of them, enough to fill posters and webs and notebooks. Some are ridiculous or weird, but all are wonderful, all are worthy. My favourites are on our 'Really, Really, Really Bad Ideas' board, which we cherish for its randomness and for the look on a student's face when we realize we actually need one of those ideas. And who knows? It may be just the idea we were waiting for. 

References

Hilton, C.A. (2021). Indigenomics: Taking a Seat at the Economic Table. New Society Publishers.

Rubin, R. (2023). The Creative Act: A Way of Being. Penguin.

Sternberg, R.J. & Williams, W.M. (2010). Educational Psychology, 2nd ed. Pearson.

...all the ways we have travelled to this point in time. The one thing those stories teach us is that, at no other moment in history have we been more poised on the brink of social upheaval and environmental disaster. Food scarcity, homelessness, and climate emergency are no longer our grandchildren's problems. These issues affect each one of us right now, today, and will continue to do so for the foreseeable future.

At this point in our collective future, it is crucial that knowledge, the sum of the things we teach to our children and students in K-12 education, be "used well in the world" (Orr, 1991). In short, this is my 'why.' If we are to survive as a species on this planet, we must begin taking care of it and of its creatures. The 'how' will require a few, more detailed, paragraphs.

Shaped a bit like a lopsided onion, my framework was designed to be reminiscent of the expanding ripples of a pebble dropped on the surface of a lake, or perhaps the electron rings of an atom, or even the shape of the planet on which we live. Its off-centered expanding rings are intended to show the movement of the learner through time and space, from the 'now' into a possible future, where we can hope for the health and well-being of the next seven generations of our descendants (8th Fire, 2012).

Amongst the first layer are the immediate classroom factors influencing the learner's social and emotional growth, the teacher, the relationships formed in and around the classroom, and the immediate community. All are essential in creating what Noddings (1995) calls "concepts of care." To inspire students to care about and for the world, I must first model for them the same kinds of caring. By providing support and stability, and "respect for the full range of human talents," I can show my students how to "lead lives of deep concern for others, for the natural world and its creatures, and for the preservation of the human-made world" (Noddings, 1995).

The next outward layer of my journey is comprised of the curriculum guidelines of the jurisdiction in which I teach, both the Core Competencies, Curricular Competencies, and Content established by the B.C. Ministry of Education, and the FNESC's First Peoples Principles of Learning. These embody not only the Indigenous teaching framework created by the FNESC, but also best practice for honoring, supporting, and motivating each student in my classroom. As well, these teachings that are "holistic, reflexive, reflective, experiential and relational" and "focused on connectedness, on reciprocal relationships, and a sense of place" (FNESC, 2007) will enable my students to feel safe enough inwardly that they can look outward to the wider world and its many concerns.

Next around the central features of my design, I have placed the methods and core practices of my classroom pedagogy, both current and newly implemented by this framework. Design thinking and inquiry are approaches I have been working on for the past several years, encouraging my students to ask questions, define problems, and envision solutions. I hope to implement a genuinely interdisciplinary approach, where student choice, "democratic consensus" (Clack, 2022), and hands-on learning allow students to ask new, tough questions. I have been working especially in my ADST classes to create a genuinely student-centered classroom, where students own their learning to the point where I am sometimes quite surprised to see the destination at which we arrive! Last term, I started to work on Genius Hour with them, and as one does, I envisioned them each choosing their own unique topic to investigate. What I discovered was that they all wanted to plant flowers and vegetables. My answer to their question had to be, 'Why not?' And so, our Garden Project was born.

Key practices for implementation of this rather grand project will incorporate several other ideas new to my practice. The ideals of Forest School, Edible Schoolyard, and Place-Based Learning will involve a massive effort in the development of our school gardens (two outdoors and one indoors) and the utilization of our nearby woodlands. Student-led inquiry "offer[s] genuine, empowering choices…[and] give[s] them agency over their learning" (Clack, 2022), but there will be a great deal of community effort as well. One way in which I might genuinely innovate my practice would be to 'flip' my classroom to some extent. Following this model – direct teaching in advance, at home, and at students' own pace, with fresh air teaching the next day – would allow student needs to "drive their instruction" (Hamdan et al., 2013) and utilize our outdoors spaces most effectively. In doing so, we would be "likely to pose questions that were unlikely before" (Greene, 1993). These, of course, are the "great existential questions" of which Noddings (1995) speaks, that ones that remind us why we are here, how to live, and why we should tread gently on this earth of ours.

In the words of Edible Schoolyard founder, Alice Waters, "[b]y connect[ing] students to food, nature, and each other…[we] systematically address[ ] the crises of climate change, public health, and social inequality. At its heart [Edible Schoolyard] is a dynamic and joyful learning experience for every child" (Edible Schoolyard Project, 2022). I can think of no better transformative and holistic outer layer to my new framework. The possibilities for a fundamental change in sustainability, cultural and environmental literacy, planetary citizenship and stewardship are endless, and the future is ours.

Resources

8th fire episode 1. Indigenous in the city (43:24) - 8th fire: Aboriginal peoples, Canada & the way forward. Coursera. (2012). Retrieved May 14, 2022, from https://www.coursera.org/lecture/aboriginal-education/8th-fire-episode-1-indigenous-in-the-city-43-24-RmmF6

Clack, J. (2022). Can we fix education? Living emancipatory pedagogy in Higher Education. Teaching in Higher Education, 27:2, 141-154, DOI: 10.1080/13562517.2019.1704724

FNESC. (2007). First peoples principles of learning. First Nations Education Steering Committee FNESC. Retrieved May 15, 2022,   from http://www.fnesc.ca/first-peoples-principles-of-learning/

Hamdan, N., McKnight, P., McKnight, K., & Arfstrom, K. M. (2013). Flipped Learning Model: A White Paper Based on Literature Review Titled a Review of Flipped Learning. Flipped Learning Network.

O'Brien, L., and Murray, R. (2006). A marvellous opportunity for children to learn: A participatory evaluation of Forest School in England and Wales. Forest Commission England. http://www.outdoorrecreationni.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/11/A-marvellous-opportunity-for-children-to-learn_Obrien_Murray-2006.pdf

Noddings, N. (1995, May). Teaching themes of care. Phi Delta Kappan, 76(9), 675+. https://link.gale.com/apps/doc/A16898829/AONE?u=queensulaw&sid=bookmark-AONE&xid=03c10f54

Orr, D. (1991). What is Education For? The Learning Revolution, 27, 52. Context Institute. https://www.context.org/iclib/ic27/orr/

Regalla, L., & Van Helsema, P. (n.d.) Makers in the Library: A Toolkit for Building a Community-Driven Makerspace. Regallium Consulting. https://static1.squarespace.com/static/5f23ee35a40618686666773e/t/5f70bd7335ffa16c0e7e5032/1601224095298/MakersInTheLibrary.pdf

The Edible Schoolyard Project. (2022). https://edibleschoolyard.org/

What is Maker Education? (n.d.) Maker Education Initiative. https://makered.org/about/what-is-maker-education/