*Instead of writing new posts for June, July and August I will revisit past posts, share the essence of the original post, reflect on its relevance for today and offer new insights and perspectives. I’ve been writing IN:SIGHT since September of 2016, so I will have plenty of material to draw from. I invite you to scroll back through the older posts to see what captures your inner eye or energizes the heart of your teaching.
August 24th, 2022—In my March 9th, 2022 post I explored the potential of seeing classrooms as a wild place instead of a learning environment solely defined by structure, predictability, and standardized outcomes. My intent was to open the learning space, using wilderness as a metaphor, while acknowledging that even in nature structure and norms are essential. I wrote:
There is a wildness in nature. There is a wildness in teachers, learners and classrooms. Wildness is resisted, feared, and controlled by systems of domination, using norms, standards, and accountability frameworks. When classrooms are structured around power-over rather than power-with, wildness is absent or perceived as an unwelcome distraction. The wildness of imagination and the unexpected are curtailed. Let me state that wildness is not the same as undisciplined and unstructured. Wild places, in nature and classrooms, have recognizable and trustworthy patterns that foster learning.
The question I started exploring in the March 9th post was the purpose of wildness, toward what goal does it strive in the process of teaching and learning. I noted that,
For wilding in the classroom to occur, I must make several assumptions about human nature and the essence of learning. The first is that every student and educator has a soul or heart, a central core of identity and being that is unique and particular to that person. The meaning of soul is often narrowly bound by the language and meaning making of religion. But it can also be used in secular educational spaces to describe what is being called out, or invited into the learning space, by the construction of the classroom by an educator. This sense of soul is consistent with the root meaning of education, which is to call out the wisdom, knowing and wonder of the learner. To approach education as if the soul or heart is absent from the leaner is to invite the image of student as an empty vessel to be filled with predetermined chunks of knowledge.
One consistent response to the question of core elements of humanness is the affirmation of the unique and singular nature of each person. While also holding true to the realization that individuals are bound in community. The paradox of self and other existing simultaneously in a mutually supportive matrix of reciprocity, accountability, and cooperation. As I noted in my March 9th post, in educational spaces this means forms of teaching that call out the inner-wisdom and being of the learner. Which it can be argued is one of the deep and original meanings behind the word to educate, to experience education, or to be considered educated.
A question to consider is where might educators find language, images, and metaphors that describe the soul and therefore offer ways to incorporate heart knowing into the curriculum. The language describing the inner-essence of learners and educators is lacking in the field of education. This likely stems from several factors including, perceptions that the First Amendment separation of church and state covers spiritual as well as religious practices in schools, hesitancy around subjectivity as a form of knowing, and the challenges associated with developing and assessing outcomes that are not easily categorized and measured. To fully humanize instruction, which means creating space for the learner’s soul, the language describing what it means to be human must be expanded. This means, turning toward traditions with a long history of examining the inner-life including, moral philosophy, the arts, and faith communities.
There are good reasons to keep religion out of public schooling. The dogmatic and exclusive tendencies of religion, its inclination toward defining behavior as orthodox or heresy, can result in division when unity and inclusion are the goals. However, drawing out the spiritual elements that are universal to the human condition, and evident in the language of religion, can be useful. The language of the spiritual is mystery, imagination, and wonder. These are places where the wild or deep essence of the learner can find expression.
As an educator I regularly see the value of attending to and nurturing wildness in the classroom.
When I take the time. When I’m patient. When I suspend initial perceptions. I am blessed to witness change as students return to a deeper, more soul-full version of self. And in this moreness, as a wild thing, they are unpredictable in ways that brings light and energetic possibility to the classroom.
The academic year is about to start and I’m looking forward to catching a glimpse of the wild soul of my students, their unique singularity of self. I hope that as a classroom community we will establish enough trust and healthy boundaries to hold our soulfulness with love and care. And if the conditions are right, our combined fullness as humans will bring our learning to unexpected and wonderful places that defy definition and standardization.
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