The Sense of Wonder

Night Sky

"I sincerely believe that for the child, and for the parent seeking to guide him, it is not half so important to know as to feel.  If facts are the seeds that later produce knowledge and wisdom, then the emotions and the impressions of the senses are the fertile soil in which the seeds must grow. . . Once the emotions have been aroused -- a sense of the beautiful, the excitement of the new and the unknown, a feeling of sympathy, pity, admiration or love -- then we wish for knowledge about the object of our emotional response.  Once found, it has lasting meaning.  It is more important to pave the way for the child to want to know than to put him on a diet of facts he is not ready to assimilate."
                                                                                           --Rachel Carson, 1956

In Rachel Carson's words I hear echos of Liberty Hyde Bailey's writings on nature study. . .

"Knowledge begins  in wonder.  The consciousness of ignorance is the first result of wonder, and it leads the pupil on and on:  it is the spirit of inquiry."  
                                                                                    --L.H.Bailey, Nature-Study Idea, 1909

The fact that these sentiments are voiced throughout the ages is no surprise to me.  I think we were gifted by our ancient ancestors with the natural ability of seeing the world through eyes of wonder.  A sense of wonder is as rooted in our hearts and minds as the desire to be known or the need to belong.  We are born into wonder and it is the beginnings of knowledge.  Wonder is in our DNA.

I can never forget one evening with my son John as a four year old.  We had attended an evening Halloween party at his preschool and as we left the party it was truly dark outside. We walked into the parking lot and the entire night sky was filled with stars.  John stopped dead in his tracks and stared skyward.  I followed suit and we both stood there gazing.  I might have said something, I don't remember.  Perhaps I pointed out the big dipper (pretty much all the star knowledge I know), perhaps I commented on the beauty, I have no memory of conversation.  What is memorable was us simply staring in absolute wonder.  I'm not sure there were words to capture those moments of awe.  I'm guessing if words were shared they were as quiet whispers.  The whole time, parents and children were filing out to their cars leaving us the last two in the parking lot.  It was John's first time seeing a night sky and that night it was my first time seeing the night sky through his eyes.  Lucky me.  Later, he would dream of becoming an astronaut.  Much later, he would take a college course on astronomy.  He has always had a fascination with the vastness of the sky and this universe.  Today, he is a writer and a student.  He continues to be filled with wonder.  I hope his wonder never ends.

Student taking a picture of
a monarch just released

Large milkweed bugs

My students are learning about organisms in science this marking period.  Our monarch butterflies have been a perfect introduction to the world of insects.  On Friday, we went out exploring the milkweed patch in search of additional insects that live on this hardy plant.  Students brought out their Chromebooks with the goal of taking pictures of the various insects we hoped to see and that we had learned inhabit milkweed.  The milkweed was filled with beetles and bugs and the students were highly engaged trying to capture photos of the various creatures.  One student at the end of the patch yelled out, "I've found aphids!!!!"  The entire group rushed over to check out the clusters of aphids on a milkweed stalk.  It seems a small wonder, aphids and milkweed bugs, but these students were filled with it.  I would like to take credit for their wonder, but I cannot.  It is in our DNA to be fascinated with the world around us.  It's what makes us human and gives us hope for a future we can't even imagine.

Whether staring at the vastness of a night sky or tiny aphids, we have the potential to be filled with wonder in this world.  It has been written about by poets and scientists alike --painted on cave dwellings and expressed on computer laptops.  To see the world with wonder is why we are here.   Happy wonderings!

"If I had influence with the good fairy who is supposed to preside over the christening of all children I should ask that her gift to each child in the world be a sense of wonder so indestructible that it would last throughout life, as an unfailing antidote against the boredom and disenchantments of later years, the sterile preoccupation with things that are artificial, the alienation from the sources of our strength."  --Rachel Carson    

Back to School

Those of us in the education field know that August is more than the dog days of summer, it also marks the end of summer break and the beginning of a new school year.  Nervous energy starts to set in as we try to imagine how to prepare our classrooms and meet the incoming classes of students.  My son Ben is a first year teacher in a Detroit Waldorf school.  I've been teaching for many years and we are both filled with a level of excitement and nervousness that does not seem to diminish over time.  Every year is a new beginning, with a new group of students and new goals that will be set and re-set as we face the challenges and surprises that await us.  It is always a bit thrilling and overwhelming and it never gets old.

If teaching were the "filling of a pail," it would be so much simpler.  We could test, train, re-test and be done and move on.  The information could be filed in an organized hard-drive brain and retrieved as needed.  Those of us who have been in the education field for awhile and those of us who have been students of life for awhile, know that education is much more akin to the "lighting of a fire" than the "filling of a pail" or the filing of data into the brain.   How does one light the fire to think and learn?  This is where education becomes an art.  Each teacher brings his/her unique set of skills and knowledge to this art project we call education.  Each student brings his/her unique set of skills, needs and knowledge to the project.  It is always a work in process and it is always unique to the individuals creating it.  It's never a finished product because we are never done learning.  With any luck, some of us will find a passion for a subject matter and a fire will be lit.  And when a fire is lit (in any educational area) learning becomes an adventure into knowledge that we never lose or forget.  It is knowledge that gets seared into our hearts.  That's the art of it all.

Male monarch raised from egg

This summer, I've been raising monarch butterflies.  I have been finding eggs on milkweed and I've been raising them up through their transformation into butterflies.  I've started a butterfly garden in my backyard and loaded it will baby milkweed.  On the smallest plants I'm finding eggs!  It's exciting.  I've got approximately 16 monarchs in various stages in my house.  A couple of weeks ago, I shared several eggs and caterpillars with friends so that they can also catch the monarch excitement.  It's a wonderful project.  Ilse Gebhard, Russ Schipper, Erik Mollenhauer, Cindy and Paul Wackerbarth and Brian Hayes are all part of the "lightening of my fire" for monarchs.  I will never be the same and I can't thank them enough.  (The previous blog details a bit of this process and story.)  I will bring my monarch lessons into the classroom again this year and share my love of this amazing insect with my students.  We will read, write and examine monarchs and their impact on our society in the context of our fourth grade curriculum and objectives.  I can't wait to share the excitement!

I have also been reading a wonderful book written by acclaimed poet and writer Georgia Heard entitled, Awakening the Heart; Exploring Poetry in Elementary and Middle School.  I hope to set up my writing workshop with a poetic sensibility.  Georgia Heard has lots of great ideas for encouraging students to discover words and images from their own lives and bring them to light in the written word.  Her book speaks to "lightening a fire" for writing that has captivated me and I hope helps me captivate my students as they develop their writing skills.  I will also be bringing in lessons I've learned from the outdoor education workshop, Voices From the Land (detailed in a previous blog). Brian, Erik, Cindy and Paul are masters at "lighting the fires" of learning through listening to the landscape and  through nature study.  I hope to share some of that excitement with my students this year.

I would be remiss, if I did not mention Russ Schipper's gift for sharing his love of birds with me and my students.  For the past several years, Russ has volunteered in my classroom (along with the other fourth grade classrooms) to light some fires for learning about birds.  My students have learned observational skills, non-fiction reading skills, adaptation lessons and many other important thinking skills through the study of birds and Russ' help with the Cornell Backyard Bird Count.  I hope we can continue that tradition in the year ahead and for years to come!

This summer has been a time for rejuvenation, study and the lighting of my fire.  To all the students and teachers out there, here's to the messy art project we call education!  May we light some fires and share the love of learning with those we meet in the days ahead!

Peace and Love.

Exploring the Educational Borders Between the Heart and the Mind

"In all things nature there is something of the marvelous."  --Aristotle

"Science but increases the mystery of the unknown and enlarges the boundaries of the spiritual vision."  --Liberty Hyde Bailey, The Holy Earth  

Monarch larva pupating

Monarch emerging from chrysalis

"Our task must be to free ourselves by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature and its beauty."  --Albert Einstein

The above quotes are written by great thinkers and scientists, renowned in their fields of study (philosophy, horticulture and physics respectively).  All three quotes though are pointing to something more than what might be considered hard and fast logic and/or science.  Philosophy and science are generally based in reason and logic.  They are about making sense of the world through discovery and facts . . . about proving the null hypothesis . . . about finding objective truths (or as close to truths as we can come).  And yet, I have started noticing an interesting paradox with many (if not all) the great thinkers and scientists that I have read.  There is a love of their subject matter that goes beyond the facts.  Science as something that is "marvelous," and "enlarges the boundaries of the spiritual vision" and is about "widening our circle of compassion," implies a delving into the heart.  These are not factual statements; they are statements of love.

This paradox, this jumping borders between the heart and the mind, makes so much sense to me.  Show me a great scientist and, chances are, they are passionate (and even in love with) their subject matter.  How could they not be?  Who could spend their life work studying the reproductive lives of bees (my entomology professor at U of MN) without some sort of passion and heartfelt love for bees?  These scientists are passionate folks.  If you want to be awed by moss, read Robin Wall Kimmerer's book, Gathering Moss.  She will pull you into the story of mosses so that you will never look at moss the same way again.  Moss is an amazingly adaptive species that can survive and reproduce in the most unlikely of spaces.  You will grow to love (if not highly appreciate) moss after reading her book.  If you need a reason to fall in love with trees, read Joan Maloof's book, Teaching the Trees.  I'm in the midst of reading her book now and I'm already seeing trees from a different perspective.  I've always been fond of trees, but now I'm learning just a bit more about the interwoven relationships between trees and the animals and insects that live among them.  The more I learn about trees, the more I appreciate them.  Life simply continues to amaze me.  And the fact is, I know so very little.  I feel a bit like Winnie the Pooh; compared to scientists, "I am a bear of very little brain."

The above monarch pictures show a couple amazing processes that I've had the opportunity (along with some of my students) to witnessing in real life: the monarch caterpillar (larva) turning into a chrysalis and the butterfly emerging from its chrysalis.  Both processes are spell-binding and although the processes are scientifically documented, they are still miraculous to observe.  My family knows that if I walk by milkweed (the only thing monarch caterpillars can eat) I look for eggs and caterpillars.  And when I find either one, I take them home and raise them.  About 1% of monarch eggs survive to adulthood, so I like to increase their chances.  I have learned a little bit about the lives of monarchs and all I can say is, "what's not to love?"  These insects have an amazing life story.  Summer monarchs mate and lay eggs, living for about two to five weeks.  Fall monarchs suspend mating and travel to Mexico, living up to nine months!  Monarchs travel from as far away as Canada to their overwintering home in Mexico.  After winter, they mate and begin their journey north.  It's really an incredible story.  But the story doesn't end there.  If you examine a common milkweed plant, you will find many different species of insects and spiders that are also fascinating creatures.  Did you know that when aphids (common pest to many plants) become overcrowded on a plant they will birth a generation of aphids with wings?  Or that aphids are almost entirely female with the sole goal of mass producing genetically identical babies?  Every plant, animal and insect has carved out a place in this world and adapted amazing ways to survive.  I'm not going to claim to love aphids, but I can pretty much bet, there's a scientist out there that does. . . This world is amazing and the more I know, the more amazed I become.

I am not a scientist or an expert of any kind.  In fact, as I grow older I realize more and more how little I know.  I'm a generalist at best.  I've been teaching elementary school for twenty years.  This means I teach all subjects from reading to math to social studies to handwriting (to name just a few).  I'm a "jack of all trades, master of none" (my sons like to say, it took me several years to graduate from kindergarten to first grade).  The few bits of information I shared in this piece of writing are only the tip of the iceberg when it comes to understanding and appreciating monarchs or aphids . . . hopefully enough for you to share a bit in my amazement.  There is another lesson here for those of us who are generalists in this world.  We need to remind ourselves that the heart has an important role in education.  Teaching requires at least as much emphasis (some of us would say more) on the love of learning as on any subject matter that we present.  Great scientists are born, out of not just knowledge but a love for their subject matter.  If we want to start a revolution of great thinking, we need to work on the love of it all.  The mind will always follow a great story.  And if we want to really save this world from the myriad of dangers we face, lets teach from our hearts, like there's no tomorrow (so that there will be).

"Nature-study is not science.  It is not knowledge.  It is not fact.  It is spirit.  It is concerned with the child's outlook on the world."  --L.H.Bailey  

             

Summer Workshop; Voices From the Land

"Miracles rest simply upon our perception being made finer, so that for a moment our eyes can see and our ears can hear what there is about us always."  --Willa Cather

Snail on stem

On June 18th and 19th, a group of teachers had the privilege of attending the "Voices From the Land" workshop at the Liberty Hyde Bailey Museum.  The goal of this workshop is to integrate outdoor learning with classroom curriculum and technology.  It was led by Brian Hayes (director of the Monarch Teacher Network out of New Jersey) and volunteers Cindy and Paul Wackerbarth (from Washington D.C.).  South Haven teachers representing Lincoln Elementary, Maple Grove Elementary, North Shore Elementary, Baseline Middle School and L.C. Mohr High School attended.  We explored the trails and landscape surrounding the museum.  We created art, took photographs, wrote and performed poetry and learned some tricks for publishing posters and books based on children's writing and art.  Through the workshop we experienced many concrete activities to connect outdoor learning to our present curriculum in a hands-on and exciting format.  Included with the workshop, each participant received a book and a CD with many more creative and fun activities for students of all ages.  On Thursday night, Brian gave a free lecture on nature study at the museum that was opened to the public.  His energy, generosity and knowledge made for a fun and informative event. I know that my teaching will be enhanced after experiencing this dynamic workshop and I am forever grateful to Brian, Cindy and Paul.  It was truly a wonderful experience.

Brian and Sarah during a performance poem

Reflecting on those two days of intense learning and sharing, I also know that it was much more than the gathering of ideas and activities.  Brian, Cindy and Paul came sharing something bigger than the study of plants or insects or poetry or technology or even science.  They spread the joy of learning, the joy of teaching and the joy of community.  It reminds me of a favorite Liberty Hyde Bailey quote.  He was answering the question, why nature study?

"Its legitimate result is education -- the developing of mental power, the opening of the eyes and the mind. the civilizing of the individual.  As with all education it's central purpose is to make the individual happy; for happiness is nothing more or less than pleasant and efficient thinking.  It is often said that the ignorant man may be as happy as the educated man.  Relatively, this is true; absolutely, it is not.  A ten-foot well is not so deep as a twenty-foot well; and although the ten-foot well may be filled to the brim,  it holds only half as much water as the other." --Liberty Hyde Bailey

Those of us lucky enough to have attended this workshop were reminded that teaching and learning are really about "pleasant and efficient thinking" and ultimately, that brings happiness.  Thank you Brain, Cindy and Paul for deepening our wells of knowledge and strengthening our community of nature-study enthusiasts!  We are looking forward to a new school year filled with the joy of  outdoor learning!

A special thank you to the South Haven Public Schools Foundation for their donation of five scholarships and the Monarch Teacher Network for their donation of two scholarships.  Thanks also to the Liberty Hyde Bailey Museum for providing a lovely space, catered lunch and housing for the presenters.  We could not have done this without a great deal of support from many good people.  Thank you!  

South Haven; Voices From the Land Workshop

When I Heard the Learn'd Astronomer

By Walt Whitman

When I hear the learn'd astronomer,

When the proofs, the figure, were ranged in columns before me,

When I was shown the charts and diagrams, to add, divide, and measure them,

When I sitting heard the astronomer where he lectured with much applause in the lecture-room,

How soon unaccountable I became tired and sick,

Till rising and gliding out I wonder'd off by myself,

in the mystical moist night-air, and from time to time,

Look'd up in perfect silence at the stars.

June 18th and 19th there will be a Voices From the Land Workshop held in South Haven, Michigan at the Liberty Hyde Bailey Museum.  I can't wait!  The folks from the Monarch Teacher's Network are coming to lead this workshop and it is sure to please those of us who believe that learning is about inspiration, creativity and making connections with the world around us to foster a lifelong love for learning and for this amazing planet earth that we call home.  

Those who attend will be taught specifics on generating and inspiring writing, working in collaboration, embedding math and science skills and using internet publishing applications.  Ultimately, the workshop's goal is to not only foster listening to the land, but also to the voice and gifts of each individual through a hands-on, integrated outdoor learning experience.  And what could be better than that?

If you are interested in joining us on this adventure into nature and learning, contact Brian Hayes at bhayes@eirc.org. or check it out on the Monarch Teacher's Network ( http://www.eirc.org/programs-services/global-connection/monarch-teacher-network/voices-from-the-land/ )  This conference not only includes inspiration and joy, it also includes a catered lunch on Thursday and continuing education credits!  

"How soon unaccountable I became tired and sick [of high stakes testing]

Till rising and gliding out I wonder'd off [to the Voices Workshop!]..."

Consider joining us for two days of educational joy and great fun!  It takes a village to raise our children.  Let's make sure that village includes Voices from the Land!    

Peace and Love

Spring!

Spring!

By Rainer Maria Rilke

Spring!  And Earth is like a child

who has learned many poems by heart.

For the trouble of that long learning

she wins the prize.

Her teacher was strict.  We loved the white

of the old man's beard.  Now we can ask her

the many names of green, of blue,

and she knows them, she knows them!

Earth, school is out now.  You're free

to play with the children.  We'll catch you,

joyous Earth.  The happiest will catch you!

All that the teacher taught her --the many thoughts

pressed now into roots and long

tough stems:  she sings!  She sings!

Sonnets to Orpheus I, 21

Translated by Joanna Macy & Anita Barrows

After a long winter and a solid week of rain, the earth teaches us again of new life.  Winter always holds the spirit and the potential for joy.  For those of us who have been schooled by the darkness of winter, let us be reminded that it holds in its roots the many names of green and blue.  

This poem I send out especially to Erik (my son John's roommate) who has been schooled by winter this past year, more than his young life should have had to bear.  Every winter, holds the potential of spring!  I wish you warmth and happiness.   

Spring Sounds

I went out into our school backyard one evening last week looking for signs of spring.  The path and woods were alive with all sorts of things --there were mushrooms and mosses and fragile (actually probably very sturdy) sprouts here and there.  Buds were just beginning to appear on the trees and shrubs.  I scared up a rabbit that was perhaps the very one who left prints in the snow this past winter for my class and I to find with great delight.  But the most remarkable thing to me on that walk were the sounds.  I felt a bit like I was in the midst of hundreds of conversations that I couldn't quite decipher.  A foreigner in a foreign land.  Instinct (and spring) told me the conversations were mating and territorial calls . . . everyone finding their purpose and place.  I walked with the generalized feeling of being in the midst of many demanding voices after a long winter wait.  I recorded the above songs coming out of the wetlands.  It was the sound of two individuals calling in the early evening.  When you hear a whole chorus of these, you know what they are . . . but that evening, I wasn't sure if these impressive first soloists were bird or frog.  Thankfully, I emailed Russ Schipper, who graciously identified the sounds . . . spring peepers!!!!  A couple days later, the whole wetland area was screaming these sounds and spring seems in a full, all out ruckus.  Thank God!  It has been a long winter!  Happy spring to the peepers, and all those of us who have waited patiently (and not so patiently) for a sign of new life!