An (unexpected) wonder of Winsome

“ Names have power” Rick Riordan (The Lightening Thief)

She was always going to be ‘Winsome’ ,  the curious girl who inhabited my head for a long time before I wrote her into existence.  Maybe it was the alliteration, or the fact that the name itself represents a kind of innocence and lightness - wherever she came from, she was simply there.  She was Winsome, she was so clear in my imagination, and she was born wondering. 

From “The Wonder of Winsome’ by Kath Murdoch. illustrated by Sharyn Madder (2021)

Since publishing the book last year I have had so many delightful conversations with children about it. One of the first questions I hear is “Where did her name come from?” or ‘Why did you call her that?”  It seems that the name itself provokes wondering – it’s a welcome, albeit unexpected, outcome of publishing the story almost a year ago.  These questions have led to some beautiful conversations about names and how writers create their characters and how the name helps bring the person alive in your mind and, hopefully, in your readers’ minds too. 

 Ultimately, a writer hopes to connect with their readers in some way.  I am fortunate to work regularly in schools and have children and teachers talk to me about the way they feel about the story - but there has been one, quite different response I will never forget -one outcome of writing this book I could never have predicted and one gift that Winsome quietly gave, simply because she was called Winsome. 

……………….

One warm summer’s day earlier this year, when the streets of inner Melbourne remained empty and the doors of the magnificent state library were closed to the public, the staff continued to work with their ever-growing collection – receiving, cataloguing and shelving new books.  On this particular day, a staff member was assigned to the children’s book section and busily began the process.  Working her way through the new stack of titles, she picked up ‘The Wonder of Winsome’ and found herself, for the first time, seeing her name on the cover of a book.  Her response to that moment held such significance, she wrote to me: 

“ Holding the book for the first time a rather emotional moment for me...I have never seen another book with my name in it- I would buy books for my children with their names in them but I have never had one of my own. I was teased a lot at school because of my name (Win some, lose some, Winnie the Pooh) and even now as a 54 year old, I have at least one conversation a week about it with lots of people questioning it or making comments about my 'strange name'. I love your book for many reasons...I looked very similar to 'Winsome' at that age (same haircut, same face) and I am also very curious by nature (a self-confessed 'bookaholic', and I love study...I already have two degrees and other various certificates and course completions and am just about to embark on yet another course...). Thank you for writing your beautiful book.”

A couple of weeks later, I headed to the state library (now tentatively open to the public) with a copy of the book tucked under my arm, eager to meet Winsome herself.  It was a strangely emotional moment.  

Sitting in the glorious ‘dome’ room in which I’d spent so many hours reading and writing as a university student, the ‘real life’ Winsome told me a little more about her own story. As she spoke, I was reminded of the hidden power of names – of the ways we see ourselves in relation to the ways others see us and of the identities we attach to our names. I myself, spent my primary school years as Kathleen. The name my family called me and the name my friends called me were one and the same.  Perhaps as a reflection of our need to forge a separate identity in our teens, I became ‘Kathy’ for several years in high school until a teacher I absolutely adored (and who helped me see myself as a writer) called me Kath. From then on, I was Kath.  Our names can signify so much about the relationship we have with others and even with ourselves. Certain friends and family still call me Kathleen (and it would be odd if they didn’t) but when someone calls me ‘Kathy’ it jars … it’s more than simply not my name, it’s not ME. It’s not who I am.  For my new ‘real life’ Winsome, seeing her name used in such a celebratory and positive way seemed to signify a shift in how she could see herself – how she could choose to see, and feel, her beautiful name. 

Winsome and Winsome …

When I work in classrooms, I insist the children have name tags. I know the power of using their names. It is an instant bridge builder, a show of respect, a force for inclusivity and an opportunity to connect to culture. Our names do indeed, have power – the power to help us feel seen and loved and the power to be used as weapons of indifference (when they are forgotten or not used) or even worse, humiliation.  Talking to Winsome that day reminded me of the inextricable link between our names and our identity and how important it is for us to be reminded of that as educators. When we talked, Winsome said she felt a kind of ‘reclaiming’ of the name with which he had had such a conflicted relationship.  And in reclaiming our names, we can also begin reclaim the self that may have once felt unseen or misunderstood. 

 Among my favourite inquiries has long been to offer learners an opportunity to investigate their own names – the origin, meaning, cultural significance, and to share their learning with others which, in turn, can help contribute to the development of a strong, connected community. 

 I remain so grateful to whatever it was that brought the name Winsome to me. This little girl I manifested onto the page whose name held more power than I could have imagined.  

How have the power of names found their way into your teaching and learning experiences?

Just wondering …

(With thanks to ‘the real life Winsome’ who so generously gave me permission to share this story.)

the sweet spot between safety and adventure - and how picture books can help you find it.

‘But Rogers knew that without familiarity – and, by extension, the trust that familiarity fosters, children’s curiosity can wither. It sounds counterintuitive, but children’s sense of adventurousness is paradoxically tied to their sense of safety. Kids need both to feel confident enough to explore the world around them.’ (Behr and Rydzewski, 2021:29)

One of the persistent myths about inquiry-based classrooms is that they are chaotic, and unstable environments where anything goes. A commitment to listening to children and planning in responsive ways suggests to some a lack of routine, order, or predictability. I am currently reading Behr and Rydzewski’s delightful book: “When you Wonder, you’re Learning” which draws on the beautiful work of Fred Rogers (a mainstay of children’s television in America from 1968 – 2001) and offers important lessons and reminders for today’s parents and educators. (I highly recommend it and have Linda Kaser and Judy Halbert to thank for recommending it to me!)  Not only did the television show itself become a reliable, routine aspect of so many children’s lives – something to look forward to each day/week – the format of the show was similarly predictable. But within the show, were countless moments designed to spark wonder, to invite the young learner to venture into the unknown, to ask questions, to make connections, and to explore.   For me, this mirrors the ‘sweet spot’ in the inquiry classroom. In order to effectively move with the unexpected moment, to be open to the question you do not know is coming, to be responsive and agile and take risks – we need a secure home base. We need rhythm and routine – boundaries that allow us to experiment in safety. Inquiry classrooms can and should be calmly energetic, a safe space in which learners are relaxed AND alert and where predictability and routine help support the spontaneity and adventure. 

Here in Australia, we are beginning the school year. More than ever before, as children in many states return to the learning on site after months of lockdown last year, we are acutely aware of the need to nurture relationships, establish routines and create a space that helps kids feel confident enough to explore. These first few weeks are vital in creating a learning culture – a culture which can either enhance or diminish children’s willingness to explore, take risks, make mistakes, reflect, collaborate and so on. 

Of all the routines I value as a primary school teacher, there is none more precious than gathering as a class to share in a really good book. When I taught full time, this was a sacred time – usually straight after lunch EVERY day and one of my great joys was in choosing what to read. Oh the anticipation of the book!  The conversations we had! As readers of this blog and my newsletter will know, I am a devotee of high-quality children’s literature - real books written by real authors and of the simple, powerful joy of reading to and with children. So if you are going to create any kind of routine in your classroom this year – make sure reading to your children is one of them. Do it every day.  The routine has the added bonus of connecting the group through the invisible thread of the shared experience of listening to and connecting with a powerful story. Serial reading is so important but reading a full picture book, start to finish, is a unique experience. 

 Last year, I shared a post about the way Oliver Jeffers’ book “What we’ll Build” could be used to create a class learning agreement.  This year, I am casting my net a little wider and sharing a few more of my favourite books (so hard to choose! So many!)  to use early in the year together with a few questions or prompts that might be helpful in shaping dialogue about shared expectations, goals and roles, ways of relating, agreements, etc. 

All the Ways to be Smart by Davina Bell and Allison Colpoys

What is smart? What does it mean to be smart? What kind of smart do you think you are? What makes you say that? Can you get smarter? Are we born smart, or do we become that way? This book is such a lovely way to open up the idea that being ‘smart’ can take all sorts of forms. The examples are numerous, and the rhythm and rhyme of the text is beautiful. I would begin by asking children to share their ideas about ‘smart’ before reading and then reflect on new thinking at the end possibly inviting them to write a letter sharing their view of their own strengths as learners.  Great one for parents too! 

The Name Jar by Yangsook Choi 

This is an old favourite and one of many books I own about names and identity.  This is a really lovely way to introduce an inquiry into the story of our names. It is often surprising what kids don’t know about their names and fantastic way to build intercultural understanding as well as honouring identity. After reading invite children to share what they DO know about their names and brainstorm some questions together that they can go home and ask to find out more. Have them teach tell the story of their names through the week.

My Heart by Corinna Luyken

This really is a most beautiful book. Simply reading it to your kids and inviting their reflections and connections may be enough.  A gentle way into conversations about the degree to which we can manage or control our emotions and responses to experiences. The last line: ‘Closed, or open – I get to decide’ is the kicker! What a wonderfully provocative statement. Do we get to decide? How much control DO we have over ourselves?  This book is also a lovely way to introduce the idea of a heart map – where children write or draw, in the shape of a heart, their interests and passions so you can get to know them better. 

The Most Magnificent Thing by Ashley Spires

Another perennial favourite, I come back to this book again and again as a way into conversations about managing expectations, making mistakes and coping with disappointments.  This is the perfect book to include early in the year when we should be having open conversations about the nature of learning and the value of mistake making. 

The Tree in Me by Corinna Luyken

Another Luyken book - I am a big fan!  This is a book about connection, and I just adore it. Even the title ‘The Tree in Me’ is enough to spark wonderful speculation: What might this mean? Can you really have a tree inside you? Why this title?  On reading the book, I encourage children to think not only about their connection with nature but also about what feels so special, so connected to them that it almost feels ‘inside’ them.  I would love to share this book while seated beneath a tree – have children spend time really feeling and exploring that connection with nature and ask: how might we keep connected to the earth as we learn together this year? How might we stay connected to each other? 

 My teacher is a Monster by Peter Brown 

We talk a lot about the “image of the child” in inquiry circles – and equally important is the image of the teacher held by children (and parents) and indeed by ourselves! This story is about perspective – the way we see each other and the judgements we make and how shared experiences and a willingness to see each other in new ways can redefine our relationships. Early in the year, we should be explicit and transparent about roles and invite children to share their thinking about what they think a good teacher says/does/feels/thinks? Always fascinating and a great way into inquiring into learning. 

 How to Heal a Broken Wing by Bob Graham

 It is almost impossible to choose which Bob Graham book to feature – I want to share them ALL. I am not even sure why this one comes to mind as a good early-in-the-year book. All I know is that when I read this book to a group of children a reverent hush always descends on the group. It is a story about noticing, empathy, kindness and being a good citizen in the most unassuming of ways. I think it can lead to gentle conversations about looking out for one another, about taking time to support and help others about how kindness can find a home in your classroom. 

 Wonder Walkers by Micha Archer 

My collection of books about wonder grows every year. This one is a great way to invite children to share the things that THEY are curious about. After reading it, ask them to share their own wonderings. – “what would you like to explore this year?”  The best way to use this book is as an invitation to conduct your OWN wonder walk. Even if the kids are really familiar with school – try a wonder walk where they deliberately approach the buildings and grounds with curiosity. Can we notice things we have not noticed before? 

Nine things to Remember (and one to forget) by Alison Binks

 A beautiful book to read aloud. I like the idea of innovating on this text and asking children what they think THEY should remember about being a learner? If you…remember to …. Another way to use the text is as a stimulus for them to imagine themselves at the end of the year. What memories would they like to have? 

What do you do with a problem? By Kobi Yamada 

All Yamada’s books are fabulous for the beginning of the year but this one is especially good for igniting a conversation around behaviour and generating ideas to form a class agreement. Most children are well aware of some of the typical issues/problems that come up in a classroom. Discussing what they are, why they occur and what the response might be can help build collective ownership of the norms and expectations in your learning community 

 Going Places by Peter Reynolds

 Like Bob Graham, Oliver Jeffers and Kobi Yamada, I could choose ANY one of Peter Reynolds books to use in the process of building a community early in the year. Going Places is an ideal text to introduce the idea of being imaginative, creative, and unafraid to ‘do it your way’. This is a book to prompt innovative, agentic thinking. It is also a beautiful way to explore the power of collaboration and what can happen when we put our heads together.  You might follow this book with a rich, open-ended task and encourage your children to do it THEIR way, to celebrate thinking outside the box and be less concerned about what others are doing. 

The Wonder of Winsome by Kath Murdoch

I just can’t leave her out!!   I wrote this book with the beginning of the year in mind (especially the prep/kinder year).  I would encourage you to share it at a parent night – a reminder to parents that adults have such incredible power when it comes to curiosity and agency. How would I use it in the classroom? I’d set up some wonder boxes or wonder journals (one for me too) and invite children to add to these whenever they have a wonder. Another routine can be the weekly sharing of wonders and selecting one to explore together. 

Oh my goodness! This has been such a LONG post and yet I finish it feeling dissatisfied. Why? Because there are SO many more! (You should see the pile I began with… )I would love to hear about your favourite books to use early in the year as you collaboratively create your learning community with your children.  Please do share!  And I also encourage you to consider the kinds of routines and rituals that you will introduce into your classroom this year to help create the calm, secure space we need for adventurous learning.

What routines do you like to establish? 

What are your favourite books to use early in the year?

Do you read to your children every day? Do you have a ritual associated with it? 

 Just wondering …

Environmental Education: re-kindling and re-imagining.

I recently had the pleasure of listening to an episode of ‘Recess Duty’ – a new podcast from Levi Allison (you can listen to the episode here.) His guest was Kevin O’Shae who has a passion for Environmental Education. It was a great conversation, and a timely one. I listened to it while the Glasgow Climate Change conference was winding up, the reports from which left me feeling that all too familiar sense of disappointment, frustration and fear. I listened to it as I walked beside my local Merri Creek, a place that became such a source of calm and beauty during Melbourne’s endless lockdown.  Here I was, immersed IN the natural environment, listening to someone talking ABOUT it and worrying that it was all too little, too late to do anything FOR it.  

 In, about, for

This mantra was such a big part of my life in the 80’s and early 90’s when I was so actively involved in the environmental education movement here in Victoria. I was an enthusiastic member of the national and state associations, went to conferences, ran weekend workshops – I even wrote books about it “Springboards to Environmental Education” and  “Integrating Naturally” and helped launch a beautiful Environmental Education Theatre Company – Vox Bandicoot, into schools. I introduced Environmental Education as an elective in the then diploma of primary teaching course at the University of Melbourne and sitting rather forlornly on a shelf in my study is a dusty, framed certificate with my name on it “Environmental Educator of the Year.”  

 So it was with a strange sense of shame that I listened to this podcast. The environmental education movement has been with us for decades. Why am I not as active in the field as I once was? Why have I let it slip? Why am I not using every opportunity I can to bring this work to teachers?  

 And, more profoundly, why have we not made more progress?  

These days, the concept of sustainability is widely explored and often used as a driving concept for inquiries. Generally speaking, however, the inquiries that link to this concept focus on things like recycling, deforestation, climate….all vitally important issues but simply learning ABOUT these things is insufficient.  In this post, I want to revisit the essence of a simple framework and share two additional elements I have been pondering.  I hope this might form the basis of a conversation with your team about your inclusion of environmental education in your work. And I hope it will help me strengthen my own efforts to do the same.

 When thinking about the environment in education, consider teaching and learning in, about, for, through and from …. 

IN the environment

 Many of us have discovered the joy being and indeed of teaching outdoors as a result of COVID.  There is little point in learning about the environment if you are not going to spend time in it. That is where the emotional connection happens. That is where the caring grows. Forest kindergartens and nature play do appear to be having a renaissance, but we all need to commit to giving learners time to simply be IN nature with no other agenda than the feeling of connection and joy that brings.  Get out there!! 

ABOUT the environment

The big issues matter. And our kids want and deserve to know about them. But sitting beneath those issues are some critical concepts that help us all understand them better. Decades ago, the Earth Education Institute recommended these simple concepts as critical to our understanding:  energy, cycles, diversity ,change, interrelationships, connection and adaptation.  A concept-based approach to inquiring into the environment helps build a more robust understanding of the issues at stake.  And parallel to this big picture thinking, let’s not neglect the importance of knowledge building. Here in Australia, the work of the Gould League founded by the wonderful Alan Reid played a pivotal role in the education of so many young people by helping them learn about the plants and animals of their local area. Some of my very, VERY best teaching moments have been in the context of a school yard bird study, ponding, locating and learning about the insects in the school garden. Nature offers us such powerful provocations for inquiry if only we stop to notice.  I still have (and use!) my invertebrate identification cards and many other amazing resources from that time. Get to know your local animal and plant species. Learn their names and their role in the habitats around you. Knowledge is power.

FOR the environment

Ultimately, change happens not because of what we learn but because of what we dowith what we learn. Inquiry approaches have always championed action and environmental education depends on it.  Learning IN and ABOUT the environment motivates us to want to protect and care for it.  Working with schools like Howrah Primary school in Tasmania has reminded me of the empowering experience taking action brings to children. Throughout the year the children have been actively involved in taking action for a range of local, threatened species. You can read about it on their facebook page.  Find out about the local environmental projects and issues you can get your kids involved in.   

THROUGH the environment

By situating journeys of inquiry in the context of the natural world, the door to a meaningfully integrated curriculum opens wide. A group of teachers shared with me recently that the discovery of a tawny frogmouth chick who had fallen from its nest in the school yard led to an inquiry that naturally connected science, geography, maths, English, design and digital technologies!  Use the environment as a context for inquiring  across the curriculum 

FROM the environment

Last weekend, I had an amazing walk along the Barwon river in Geelong, here in Victoria.  At one point I noticed a ‘teenage’ magpie doing what they do at this time of year, nagging their mum to give them food (they even sound like they are saying muuuuuuum! MUUUUUUUM!).  I stopped to watch them for a while, fascinated by the interactions between them, curious about what almost looked like a tantrum as the young magpie momentarily lay on its back (!), wondering what they were eating, where their nest was and allowing my thoughts to drift to the parenting of my own children and the relationships all living things have with their offspring. I was watching, listening, wondering, theorising, connecting, questioning … I was doing exactly what I would want children to do in an inquiry classroom. And here I was sitting by a river with not another human in sight. Nature, it seems, is a gifted inquiry teacher herself from which we can learn so much.  When you take learners into the environment, don’t feel you need to teach/tell them too much. They will learn so much simply by being there and being encouraged to notice.

Environmental Education has been part of the learning landscape for decades. In the early 1800’s  Jean-Jacques Rousseau urged us to ‘study nature, not books’ since then there have been many, many movements, programs and resources dedicated to the cause. 

 And yet here we are – our precious planet in such dire trouble.

Maybe that’s why I have ‘dropped the ball” in recent times. After all this time, all this work, all these incredible, passionate devoted environmental educators I have worked with for nearly 40 years … what can we show for our efforts?  It is hard not to be despondent.  BUT I take heart. Greta Thunberg gives me heart. My own children and their passionate, informed friends give me heart. Schools like Howrah Primary school give me heart, amazing brave schools like https://www.thenatureschool.org.au  give me heart, the native regeneration acres of once industrial wasteland in my own suburb gives me heart. And listening to podcasts with teachers like Kevin give me heart. The work continues.

 The recent UNESCO report “Reimagining our Futures” is blunt in its call to action: 

 “We  need  to  take  urgent  action  to  change  course,  because the future of people depends on the future of the planet, and both are at risk. The report proposes a new social contract for education – one that aims to rebuild our relationships with each other, with the planet, and with technology.”

 It is nearing the end of the school year here in Australia. A time for reimagining. For me, it feels like a time for rekindling the fire I had let cool.  My passion for inquiry has no better home than learning in, about, for, through and from the environment. Time to take a deep breath and step, once more into the breach. I hope you will join me in thinking about your own connection to nature and the responsibility we all have to keep our children connected to the planet on which we all depend.

Surely as educators there is no greater moral purpose. 

How do you help build your children’s relationship with the natural world?

Children at Auburn South getting curious in the amazing vegetable garden!

Just wondering …

What will we build? An inquiry into culture building inspired by Oliver Jeffers.

AS I write, teachers around my home country of Australia are preparing to begin the school year. Others are returning after their winter break or perhaps after a prolonged period of remote learning. Regardless of the reason, returning to school is an opportunity to ‘reboot’ and refresh - to ask ourselves and our students important questions about the kind of learners we want to be and the kind of learning community we want to build. 

 ‘Building’, ‘constructing’, ‘growing’, ‘creating’ … these are all words that align beautifully with the ethos of inquiry.   As inquirers, we value the process as much as the content or product we might be working towards. As inquiry teachers we see learning as a process of construction, building on prior learning through investigation, analysis and reflection  And we relish that building process in collaboration with our students.  

 So, as we begin the new school year or return after a break, we might ask ourselves and our students ‘What will we build together?’ 

 When I came across Oliver Jeffer’s new book ”What We’ll Build” late last year, I was immediately captivated by it as an allegory for the collaborative journeys of inquiry we take with our students.  It is a book about parenting – a loving letter to Jeffer’s daughter and has all of his wonderful hallmarks – gentle prose, symbolism, glorious illustrations, humour and big ideas.  

As a full-time classroom teacher, I ALWAYS made sure that on our first day together, we connected through at least one really sensational book.  I know of no better way than to commune with children than through powerful literature. If I were starting the year now, I think this is the book I would choose.  Revisiting it yesterday, I imagined the questions it might prompt me to ask myself, my team and my kids. I imagined how it might help us “make plans for our future together”. I imagined , perhaps returning to the book each day. Page by page, question by question. 

 Because that is the way classroom culture is built. Word by word, action by action, minute by minute , day by day.  As teachers, we are culture builders. And this culture determines the way our children come to see themselves as learners and how they see learning itself. If we truly want to build a culture that nurtures curiosity, agency, courage and compassion – we have some important questions to explore from day one. And this beautiful book might help you get the ball rolling. Here are the questions I played with, in response to the text… 

What shall we build, you and I? 

 Take time to ask your learners what they hope and indeed IMAGINE their classroom community will look and feel like. How might the physical space be arranged? What kind of space will support learning? What kind of relationships do students hope to have with each other? With their teachers? What is your vision for your team?  How will you build a wonderful, collaborative team this year? 

Let’s gather all our tools for a start

 What skills and disposition will help us learn together?  What is already in our toolkit as learners? Do we have the tools to manage ourselves, communicate, collaborate, think and be awesome researchers?  What do effective learners DO? What dispositions or attitudes can we cultivate? Do we have the language to talk about these tools for learning? 

 For putting together – and taking apart

How will we help ourselves stay resilient and strong?  How will we view mistakes and failures?  Are we willing to take things apart and start again?  What might we want to ‘take apart’ from the past and put back together in new ways? What might we let go of this year? What needs to change? 

Let’s build a door where there was none

We’ll build a house to be our home

 How might we create a safe and supportive community where we ALL feel we belong?  This is more than a classroom or a school – this is a community. How can we make this a truly inclusive place where each person feels seen? 

I’ll build your future and you will build mine

 What can we offer each other? What are your goals as learners? What are my goals as a teacher? What gifts can we give each other? How can we help each other grow? 

We’ll build a watch to keep our time

 What might our days look like? How can we co construct a routine or timetable to allow for flexibility as well as predictability and routine?  How will we document our journey together? 

We’ll build some love to set aside 

And build a hole where we can hide

 And what about those times when we need to be alone? Is there a space in our classroom that we can go to when we need time with ourselves? What might that look like?  How can we ensure we all get that time out when we need it? 

A fortress to keep our enemies out

And higher walls for when they shout

But you don’t always lose and you don’t always win

So we’ll build a gate to late them in

We’ll build a table to drink our tea and say

“I’m sorry,” “me two”, “me three”

 Conflict is an inevitable part of living and learning with others. We need to be OK with our differences and we know that will help us learn and grow. How might we manage conflict? What do we consider to be our rights and our responsibilities in this learning space? What agreements can we draft to help us learn together? How might this extend to our teaching teams? We need vigorous debate and different perspectives? How will we both ensure and manage that? How can we stay open to new ideas?  Different voices? 

We’ll build a tower to watch the sky

And other worlds to pass us by

 How will we stay connected with what is going on in the world? How can we connect with people and ;places beyond our school? Can we make more use of the outdoors this year?  How will we record and share our wonderings and be relentlessly curious about the world? Let’s make this a place where curiosity is welcome!

Let’s build a tunnel to anywhere

Let’s build a road up to the moon

Let’s imagine where we want to be at the end of this week, this term, this year. What are our goals? How might we help ourselves get there?  How will we stretch and challenge ourselves as learners? 

Let’s build a comfy place to rest

For we’ll be tired soon.

 Rushed, frantic classrooms do not make good learning environments. How will we help ourselves slow down and take more time to notice ourselves and our learning? How will we pay more attention to what’s going on and be more present in our day? What routines will we create to ensure we regularly reflect on what we are learning, doing and feeling? 

Let’s build a boat that can’t be broken

That will not sink, or be cracked open?

 What do we really believe about learning? What do we understand about how we learn?  What are the foundations of this classroom community? What are the things we can all agree are important? What do we value? 

A place to stay when all is lost

To keep the things we love the most

We’ll put these favourite things beside

The earlier love we set aside

 How will we ensure that school is a place where our true passions (as teachers and learners)  and interests are nurtured?  How will we introduce new possibilities and ensure we widen our horizons? What do we want to learn more about? What do we want to learn to make, do and be? 

I think that we might want them later 

When times are hard and needs are greater

 And will the learning that happens this year be the kind of learning that travels with us for life?  What do our students think is important for them to learn? How can we close the gap between school and the world beyond school? 

But first things first, let’s build a fire

For we’ve planned a lot and now we’re tired

It’ll keep us warm like when we’re born

Then we’ll say good night , as all’s all right

 Where will our ‘campfire’ be? Do we have a gathering place? Would rituals and routines might we develop as a class to bring a gentle, connecting rhythm to our days? 

These are the things we will build, you and I

What does it mean to be in true partnership with each other, with learners and with families? 

What will we build? 

Beyond the power of this text to stimulate thinking about building classroom community, this text is about hope and about agency. The agency we all have to  onsciously and thoughtfully build our future together. 

“What We’ll Build” is available here

A trailer for the story is here

You can find out more about the inspiration for this book here

 So….

 What (and how) will YOU build with your students as you create a culture of and for inquiry?

Just wondering…

Staying awake to the world: taking time to inquire into and build our own "background knowledge"

We’ve just passed the winter solstice here in my part of the world. In Victoria, teachers are in their final week of what feels like the longest term in history. Many colleagues  are visibly exhausted from months of remote teaching and adjusting to new ways of working back at school. My overseas colleagues are also now counting the days down until the school year comes to an end in the northern hemisphere.  This past weekend was the first one for almost four months in which I had not worked in some capacity – either delivering online workshops, writing or planning.  We are all, undoubtedly in need of some time out.  Immersing ourselves in things that take us away from the world of teaching is vital for rejuvenation: for our physical, mental and emotional wellbeing. This past week, I have also been reminded of how important our engagement with the world beyond teaching is for, ironically, nurturing the quality of our teaching.

 One of the most profoundly important elements in designing for inquiry learning is the dialogue we have around the ‘planning table’ about the concepts and big ideas that lie at the heart of any inquiry journey. If the journey is exploring the ‘way living things adapt to changing environments’ it is not enough simply to find a few resources and develop some activities – we need to interrogate our own thinking about this big idea.  What do we really understand about adaptation? What background  knowledge do we bring to this?  If our inquiry is into the ‘role that the arts can play in changing the world’, we must ask ourselves how we feel about this statement? What lived experience do we have of this phenomenon? What examples have we heard about? Read about?  If we are supporting children to inquire into the ‘relationship between sustainability and materials’, what decisions have we made recently about choices of materials in our own lives? What do we really understand about the science of materials? If we are designing a journey of inquiry to examine the concept of exploration, how far have we come since our own impoverished education about our history? How many of us might have made the same mistake as our Australian Prime Minister did recently when he claimed we 'did not have slavery in Australia?  

When we engage learners in a process of inquiry, we most often begin by spending time tuning in to their prior knowledge. We identify their ‘first thinking’, theories and ways of seeing the ideas they are inquiring into.  But do we do this sufficiently for ourselves?  How often do we give ourselves time, as a team, to discuss our own experiences, positions, perspectives and understandings of the very things we are inviting our learners to inquire into?    And how often do we take the time to inform ourselves when we feel less secure in our understandings of the issues that sit at the core of the conceptual understandings we have designed for learners?   In my experience, the stronger inquiry teachers – the ones who question with most dexterity and bring a more intentional disposition to their observations, are the teachers who have the better grasp of both the concepts and the ‘content’ the learners are exploring.   I have always been wary of the glib phrase: “Inquiry teachers can learn alongside the children”.  While there is certainly truth in that (I have learned SO much simply being part of an inquiry journey with groups and individuals) it doesn’t mean we are ‘off the hook’.  Our ignorance can prevent us from asking better questions, helping learners make connections or pointing the way to critical information that can help struggling learners make meaning.  In fact I have often observed in my own teaching that the deeper my understanding of something is, the better I am at listening, waiting, questioning and holding back to support the learner.   Even when we might be assisting learners in a personal inquiry that goes well beyond our own field of interest and expertise, we need to know enough about how to connect to and locate others with the expertise … and that, in itself, requires us to stay awake to the world around us. 

 At the very least, taking time to inquire into our own understanding and experience of the conceptual landscape into which we are taking our children can help fuel our own curiosity. True inquiry teachers have what Susan Engel (2015) so beautifully calls “hungry minds’. They become fascinated by the questions children are raising, they are curious about their own ways of thinking about and seeing the material they are sharing with the class. They are voracious learners with open minds and open hearts Spending time connecting with our own experiences and understanding of and questions about the field our learners are inquiring into is time well spent.  It doesn’t mean we need to be experts on every discipline. Primary classroom teachers are generalists by nature. But that doesn’t excuse us from being informed.   So what might this look like? How can we stay more awake in the world and keep our minds hungry?

 Some ideas…

• Prior to a planning meeting, ask each person in the team to locate a clip and/or reading to share with others. These might not be resources you use with students but may fuel your own thinking about the issues.

•  If you design inquiries under a compelling question (broad/open ended/conceptual and non-googleable) go round the table sharing each of YOUR initial responses to the question.  How have your individual life experiences shaped your view of this big idea? How might that impact on your dialogue with learners? 

•  Consider having staff book/movie clubs using texts that are not directly about teaching. Imagine a whole staff here in Australia reading and discussing Bruce Pascoe’s “Dark Emu” or collectively viewing the documentary “The Australian Dream” about Adam Goodes.  What a fantastic way to bring the spirit of inquiry and powerful dialogue into the staffroom! 

• Share your favourite podcasts with each other - the ones that help you really grow your brain. Watch some Ted talks together.

•  If as a team, you are feeling less confident in your background knowledge, invite someone with expertise to come and spend time with you or ‘zoom them in’ to your planning meeting. Be inquirers. Most people with expertise in an area are delighted to have an opportunity to share their passion. 

• If there are places you might take your students as part of the inquiry (gallery/zoo/museum/parkland/historical site) why not have your team meeting at the site after school or on the weekend? 

• Read. Or watch some clips. Or listen to some podcasts.  Or talk to people that have passion and expertise in this area. Come to your planning meeting ready to share some case studies or examples of the big ideas that will drive the inquiry.

•  When planning, as yourselves: What is it that we hope our students will come to understand as a result of this inquiry?  And commit to documenting these as full statements (students will understand ….) not dot points/questions/phrases.  It is easy to generate questions like “What is sustainability?” or “How do people express their culture through the arts?” or “What does it mean to be healthy” and never actually discuss the conceptual understandings that might be developed through those questions.  

• Most importantly, give this work time.  I would argue that these conversations are just as important as the design of learning tasks.  They help us connect to the why. They help us get clarity about our own thinking. They help reveal our biases, our blind spots and our confusions which can pave the way for poor questioning and missed opportunities when we are engaging with children. 

While there is a strong emphasis on learning processes in inquiry, it remains the case that powerful inquiry is fuelled by content of significance.  We can’t get to those conceptual understandings without exploring case studies and examples that gradually help us see patterns and make connections.  As inquiry teachers, we need to remain awake to the world around us. We need to have hungry minds that stay relentlessly curious about the way the world works and the way we understand the world. We need to keep pushing ourselves out of our “comfortable knowledge bubbles” and be prepared to be the geographers, historians, scientists, authors, mathematicians and artists we hope our students will be. And when we don’t know, we need to experience the thrill of the hunt – to yearn to know more. 

So my wish for you – as so many of you take a much deserved break, is that you can spend time revelling in the joy of your own learning about things that go beyond teaching.  So go find those podcasts, visit that museum (even if online), talk to your engineering/landscape gardener/pharmacist/builder friend about their job, listen to some music you have never listened to before, go look at some art, read some long form articles, take a walk in the forest and ask yourself what you know about the ecosystem around you, catch up on some documentaries…and enjoy cultivating your own curiosity.   You’ll be a better inquiry teacher for it. 

How do you ‘stay awake to the world’ amidst your busy life as a teacher? 

 Just wondering

Relinquish, restore and renew: three questions to take on your journey

It has been an intense few weeks here in Australia – indeed all around the world.  As I said in my previous post, I have found myself steeped in the very practice I have spent my professional life researching advocating – inquiry.  When I am asked what inquiry might “look like” in a remote teaching and learning context, my first response is that it looks like what it IS right now!   We are all asking questions. going into the unknown, exploring, gathering data, figuring out what is working, what isn’t, changing our thinking, asking more questions…at a ‘meta’ level, we are undertaking a huge, collaborative inquiry.  And I would argue that we are also each moving through a very personal inquiry too – as individuals within our personal communities - beyond our role as teachers.

A lot of people are talking about the opportunity for reflection as our lives are forced inward - both literally and figuratively. As someone who has long championed the vital role that reflective thinking plays in the classroom, I couldn’t agree more. Somewhat paradoxically, for these past 3 weeks, I have found some of my own reflective practices falling away.  I routinely write a journal entry each night – I have done for years. But for the last 3 weeks my journal pages are empty. I only just picked it up again yesterday. Maybe it was the shock of it all, maybe the fact that I have spent most of my days writing (rather than teaching/facilitating) or maybe my routine is just out of whack.  Regardless, the call to reflect might be too soon for many of us who are currently scrambling to “pivot” (word of the month) our lives from what they were to what they are now. 

Here in my home state of Victoria, teachers had just 3 days prior to their holidays to pull something together in preparation for school closures.  Hardly time for thoughtful, reflective, deep engagement.  But now, on the eve of my local schools beginning term 2 (with a strange mix of schools being open but families urged to keep kids at home) -  I am wondering about where our inevitable reflections might lead us? 

The weekend before we moved into a level 3 shutdown, I watched a fascinating clip by the scientist Jem Bendell whose work focusses on the concept of deep adaptation particularly in response to Climate Change (remember that global crisis?).  Watching this clip through the lens of the current pandemic made it even more fascinating. So many of the points he raised about our response to climate change were just as relevant to this crisis. 

 “We are not in control anymore  - and we will act without knowing whether we will be successful in this very uncertain time” 

 In the quest for deep adaptation Bendell poses three questions. 

•  What is it that we most value – what do we want to keep?

• What is it that we must let go of ?

• What is it that we could restore? 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DAZJtFZZYmM&vl=en

 There is much more to these questions and his framing of them than I will do justice to here - but I urge you to watch the clip.  It certainly gave me food for thought. Bendell’s questions made me wonder. What questions am I noticing myself asking as I am suddenly forced to live a VERY different existence? What questions might help me make meaning as I ponder the possibility of returning to schools at some stage in the future? What questions might we ask ourselves as we move through to the ‘other side’ of this (we need to start asking them now – regardless of how far away that time might be.)

So, here are my 3R’s, as questions they may be of help to you too – in your thinking about teaching or even in your life aside from teaching. 

Relinquish

What might I let go/give up? What is this teaching me to do without or release? 

In my persona l life,  I am challenging myself to reconsider my insanely busy schedule. Can I relinquish the busy-ness that dominates my life as an educator?  As an inquiry educator I wonder if this experience will help teachers relinquish control? Will it help them see the power of really trusting learners? Can we relinquish our need to make all the decisions FOR learners that they can make for themselves?    

 Restore

What might I restore that has been lost, forgotten or compromised?

In my personal life, I feel like my commitment to my own health and wellbeing is undergoing a kind of ‘restoration’  - I am walking regularly again and I am practicing yoga for the first time in many years.   What could be restored in the service of inquiry learning?  I would love to see the restoration of the permission to be spontaneous. Veteran teachers often become a little ‘misty eyed’ when I speak of seizing the moment. It would be lovely to see it restored.  AS authors share clips of themselves reading aloud to kids around the world, I long for the central role that reading beautiful literature aloud in classrooms once had. Is it my imagination or are we doing less of that these days?  Restoration is not about harking back to the past…(thank goodness we have moved on from so much of what was NOT good inquiry). It is about ensuring that things of VALUE are not lost.

Revolutionise

What might I change? 

People all around the world are revolutionising their practice in response to his emergency. I wonder – what might look different when we return?  What is already different? This is a time for restoration but it is also a time for renewal. My family has had to completely revolutionize the way we use and share our house. We now have a recording and a dance studio in what was once a bedroom and a spare room. And it has been an amazing creative opportunity. We may never change it back!   What might be revolutionalized in your classroom? What is already new and more effective in the way you are working remotely? I am already hearing teachers noticing the power of kids being able to have more control over their days and their timetables. Perhaps you might revolutionize your approach to timetabling to ensure greater learner agency.

 Some people have started to refer to this moment in our history as ‘the great pause’. I love that metaphor. A ‘pause manifesto’ was recently posted on the ‘dolectures’ website:

 “Do you give yourself permission to pause? And if not, why not? That is a big question, but if you can create small pauses, you might be able to start to get some perspective on that and grow the sense of space and the feeling of agency you have over your own life.”

 https://www.thedolectures.com/blog/the-pause-manifesto

 Pressing the pause button may mean we stop to ask ourselves some beautiful questions  - and have the time to listen to the answers.  So thanks to the inspiration from Jem Bendall, these are mine:

What will I relinquish?

What will I restore?

What will I revolutionise? 

For those teachers embarking on this strange, new journey (my heart is with you fellow Victorian teachers!!) would these question be helpful to take with you?

Just wondering