I was teaching a grade 4-6 split classroom. Weird, I know, but that’s for another story. It was my last year as a classroom teacher, and I wanted to take my kids to Agribition. Agribition is a huge farm and agriculture show that has everything you could ever imagine happening on a farm, including a rodeo, among other entertaining events. Even though Moose Jaw would be considered rural in many contexts, I knew the vast majority of my 28 kids had never been on a farm. So I sent in a request for a bus. My request was rejected because I hadn’t completed a new form that needed to go with the bus request, and that was a curriculum expectation and outcome form. This form had me go through my curriculum for these students to identify how this trip aligned. I was annoyed. I still kinda am. Okay, I get it, curriculum is important, but so is experiencing things that can only enrich a kid’s life.
I’ve long rallied against over-prescribed and scripted learning. This particular form was about accountability. In some respects, I get it. But I do believe it remains a relevant and important conversation. Goals, focus, and relentlessness are concepts central to education reform and frameworks designed to improve schools. But my memory of the field trip somehow pushes back a bit on that perspective. The field trip was sure to connect to curricular outcomes, but that was not my first instinct as to why we should go. It was an opportunity for my kids to experience something I couldn’t give them in a classroom. To me, that seemed enough. Goals and metrics are useful tools for businesses and, yes, even kids. But as we are now being forced to ask the question, “What does it mean to be human?” I feel less interested in goals and more interested in experiences. I want to lean more into a human being, not a human doing.
We went to Mexico City a few weeks ago. If you asked, “What was the purpose or goal of the trip?” I might have said, to relax, to see things, to reunite with old friends, to spend time with my wife and daughter. All those are true, but framing it that way isn’t something that really captures the approach we took. Most of the time, it was spent with little planning, open to serendipity as much as possible. Less planning and more present. Listen, I know many read this and will argue that both of these can be true. Certainly. But in a time when we are tempted daily by the lure of efficiency and productivity, I think we must become more intentional about just being. In that being, we become more present and more human. Not because we accomplished something, but because we experienced something. What we experience becomes personal and individual.
As I reread this, I’m sure AI could tighten this up, make it clearer. Perhaps I’ll share another post where I’ve done that. For now, I’ll let my words stand as they’ve been written with the hopes they resonate. I’m coming to terms with what AI means for me; not completely, but more clearly. I’m still working on what this means for schools and kids.
What do you think? Add a comment below or start a conversation.