Local Education is Global Education

“I have a dream.” These words are familiar and powerful. They shaped and continue to inspire a major American movement, but they’re also the words I used at Back to School Night this past August, as I met with the parents of my eighteen TK students. 

Sitting in tiny chairs, we are crammed into my classroom, and I am explaining a dream I have for a project called Forest Friday. The idea is simple: One day a month we will have school outside in nature—rain or shine. There will be time for exploration, play, and creativity as well as one challenge to address either as a group or individually. I want my children to deeply connect to their place in the world so that as they grow and mature, they feel a sense of stewardship and responsibility to care for and preserve this amazing planet. I believe that local education is global education, and the first step is the development of our sense of place. To my delight, the parents are enthusiastically on board. 

Let me provide a bit of context.

My school is Redwood Preparatory Charter located on the northern coast of California in the rural town of Fortuna. The school serves 230 students in grades TK to 8 with one class per grade level. We are in our fourteenth year of operation and focus on project-based learning. As one of the school’s founders, a former director, and a current TK teacher, I believe fully in our commitment to educate the whole child. To me, this means that we embrace learning and growth opportunities for our students in body, mind, and spirit, using multiple methods of teaching and assessment that don’t exclusively occur within a classroom setting.

My idea for Forest Fridays resulted from recent experiences that deeply influenced my thinking: a fellowship with California Global Education Project (CGEP) and two books—Awe, by Dacher Keltner, and Global Citizenship Education for Young Children, by Robin Elizabeth Hancock. 

CGEP broadened my understanding of how educators and students develop global competence. Global competence is the disposition and knowledge to understand and act on issues of global significance. Those issues are identified in the United Nations’ sustainable development goals adopted by countries to end poverty, protect the planet, and ensure prosperity for all. Globally competent individuals are lifelong learners who understand these issues. They appreciate cultural differences, can understand and consider multiple perspectives, and use critical and comparative thinking skills. In addition, they are problem solvers who are comfortable with ambiguity and change. 

As I reflected on what I wanted my students to experience and understand through Forest Fridays, I consulted the Global Competence Framework, which identifies four domains for global competence to foster awareness and curiosity about how the world works: 

• Investigate the world
• Recognize perspectives
• Communicate ideas 
• Take action

Within the four domains, there are more specific skills or indicators that educators and students can develop as they move toward global competence. I selected at least one indicator from each domain to focus my students’ learning: 

• Explore the world with curiosity
• Keep an open mind
• Persist through challenges
• Apply creative thinking and solve problems
• Actively listen to others

What surprised me is that in the process of exposing my students to these competencies, I was also developing them in myself. 

So there I am, the day before our first Forest Friday. It comes to my attention that two other teachers from my school are also planning a field trip to the forest on the same day. They have prepared stations for their students to rotate through. They have assignments that will be completed at each station and a great deal of structure built into the day. I begin to panic. I have no such plans. My only plan is to give each child a bucket and tell them to collect items we can use to create mud men. I feel underprepared and inadequate. Should I have a lesson plan? Should I have more materials? So I begin filling my car with stuff. I load water colors, a parachute, yoga mats, books, chalk, and anything else I can think of that might remotely keep my kids engaged!

Spoiler alert: I will use absolutely none of it, because, as it turns out, the forest is a very well-stocked classroom.

Before we embark on the hike into the forest, we discuss safety, review what poison oak looks like, and, most importantly, remind the adult chaperones that it is OK to climb trees, jump off rocks, and explore. The goal is to try new things and to take risks. Our first challenge is to make a mud man at the end of the day. Children have buckets and small spades. They can collect any items needed to make their guy. That’s it. As we head into the forest, delight is written on every face. There are conversations about sticks and rocks and leaves and poison oak and banana slugs. To their delight, students are allowed to go near water—which is usually forbidden—because they need mud. There are discussions about runny mud versus sticky mud and which would be better.  

Once everything is gathered, the students start making their mud men. They range from impressive to globby. It is wonderful! Students have listened to me and to each other. Students have gotten creative and solved problems. They’ve collaborated and they’ve taken risks. And, as a bonus, they’ve gotten very dirty hands, which they are excited to hold up in every picture. In short, they’ve learned with every sense they have—with their whole selves and with each other—that they belong to the forest, and the forest belongs to them.

This project is ongoing. Our class has worked together to build a shelter, played hide and seek in the forest, and hiked through the local marsh. My students are growing the capacity to persevere through challenges, to work together, to take risks, and to be awed by the grand as well as the minute. I am learning that it is OK to let go of perfection and polished lessons and that I don’t have to know all the answers before I ask them—that following my own curiosity and joy is a gift to myself as well as to my students.

My hope is that as my students develop a sense of belonging and home in their corner of the world, they will continually broaden their definition of home until it encompasses every corner of the globe.