The cashia and the ahkiaologists
The cashia and the ahkiaologists
What and how I hope all kids feel, experience, and learn in school
Tl;dr
What and how I hope my kids feel, experience, and learn in school is the same as what and how I hope all kids feel, experience, and learn in school.
Right now, at an international forest school, Clara and Nora (my kids) are feeling, experiencing, and learning some really great whats (community, curiosity, creativity, imagination, improvisation, problem solving, collaboration, initiative, belonging, fun) and hows (joyful, capable, by doing). These whats and hows are not shared by many students in many schools worldwide. I wish all students were swimming in nature school “soups.”
My goal is to make nature connection part of ALL children’s schooling — and I think a step toward this is through widespread and routine adoption of nature-based learning in schools. This matters because nature connections support the types of whats and hows my kids get in school (and all kinds of other wellbeing benefits, too).
Close to Home
Dear Reader: A little bit of context will help you with this particular letter/post. For those of you who are new, this is a bit of a departure from most of my posts.
And, I want to attend to some business. Please take a moment to subscribe if you haven’t yet:
Confession: this is my first really personal post on my Substack and I’m a little nervous about it. Not sure why — you’ve been a friendly crowd so far. And still. That’s how I’m feeling as this is about to go live.
Clara, to whom the following letter is penned most directly (it’s also for you), is my 5 year old. She won’t be able to read it for a bit, so enjoy the sneak preview :).
Our family – Eric (my “other whole”1), Clara, Nora (3), and dog, Arty, moved to Nairobi, Kenya just over a year ago.
Both Nora and Clara attend Terra Moyo International School. I have all kinds of “feels” about my kids attending a private school in Kenya when I work in and with schools – especially public schools – in the U.S.. Such is the complexity of this moment. I’ll keep grappling with this for my entire journey as a parent, I’m sure.
Non-sequitur: To date in this Substack, I’ve barely mentioned that in addition to writing and talking about nature-based learning, I DO nature-based learning in partnership with a bunch of inspiring educators through Good Natured Learning (my “Day Job”).
📰Hot off the presses: Soon I get to start working with educators in Kenya too. I’m excited for some proof in the pudding about how nature-based learning practices can be used 🌈 by ANYONE 🗺️ ANYWHERE.
I’ll share more on nature-based learning in Kenya as it unfolds. And, more on my work with Good Natured Learning in the U.S. in subsequent posts.
What won’t surprise my readers at all is that Terra Moyo is doing a pretty fab job on the nature-connected learning front. It is a forest school bringing together a potpourri of educational philosophies, borrowing meaningful bits and bobs from Reggio Emilia, Montessori, Waldorf, and Forest Schooling. The school’s forested plot sits immediately next to Karura Forest (a protected forest in Nairobi made possible through efforts led by Nobel Peace Prize laureate, Wangari Maathai).
So — to lay it out — we have the immersive nature connections in my kids’ school and then there’s what I work on in other schools. To connect this to previous posts, I’ve mapped things onto my pyramid of nature-connected learning. The hearts ❤️ and giant red circle ⭕ (hit play) are Terra Moyo; the stars ⭐ and black circles depict my work with Good Natured Learning. It’s a busy diagram, so don’t get stressed about it.
As any keen observer will notice: I’ve faced some limits trying to represent a multi-dimensional situation (nature-connected learning) in a 2-D pyramid.
Moving on….
Dear Clara,
I haven’t written to you in awhile. I write you each year on your birthday (in April). I wrote to you the most when you were still in my womb. Then, as now, writing made me feel a little less lonely – a little more connected.
Now I get to talk with you (I did that, too, when you were in my womb – but you weren’t quite as responsive). While you were at school yesterday, I was alone contemplating a couple of big questions about education, school, and learning:
What do I hope you feel in school? Experience? Learn?
And,
How do I hope you feel in school? Experience? Learn?
For me…these questions really become “What/How do I hope ALL KIDS feel in school. Experience. Learn. The fact that I want the same things for you as for all kids is a big part of what makes my belly rumble with our choice to have you attend a private school.
Given I spend my work-life (and more) thinking, writing, and doing education stuff, I was surprised by the fact that I stared at a blinking cursor for a long time.
Thankfully, you — one of my three favorite teachers (Nora and Nature being the others) — got home just in time.
Museum
Yesterday after school, as you arranged pieces of our disintegrating driveway, you declared,
I’m making a museum!
Cool! How did you think of that idea?
We learned it at school. In drama class. Where we dress up. I was the cashia. Here we have some bones.
You opened your arm drawing my gaze to some concrete chunks breaking out of our driveway.
What does a cashia do?
I wondered.
You: “They take money so people can pay.”
Me: “Oh, ca-shee-er!”
You: “No, cashia.”
Me: “That’s a different pronunciation of the word cashier.”
You looked at me and told me Teacher Esta (Esther) told you it was “cashia” – and “cashia” is the word in Kenya. I nodded, ceding you authority on the matter. We do live in Kenya after all.
Some of the other students were security guards, others “ahkiaologists,” I learned.
It’s not ready yet
you told me.
Ok. I’ll come visit when it’s ready. I just need to tie up a few things for work and then finish dinner prep. Come get me, ok?
Ok Mom.
Dad came home at some point while I was stirring the pumpkin-chickpea curry (not a hit with you because you “had the same thing for lunch” 🤨) and you forgot to let me know the museum was officially open for business. I peeked outside and saw you gesticulating, talking quickly, and loudly. Nora stood by (later I learned she was your security guard) watching. I stirred the curry and came outside.
You had collected two different types of leaves, an “apple” (reddish avocado), some “bones” (pieces of concrete), and a fallen branch. In your turtle dress, your hair still wet and unbrushed after your bath, you welcomed visitors to the museum. Your security guard wandered off.
You proudly displayed the leaves and took us on a tour showing where you gathered each set in the collection. You showed us the “bones” (concrete chunks). A moth fluttered through and you waved your hand with a museum keeper’s flair, explaining,
As you can see, we have wasps in our museums.
I resisted correcting your insect identification. Not the right time or vibe. Probably never would be. Normally you distinguish wasps and moths anyhow. I think you were just caught up in the moment.
Do we have to pay for the museum?
I wondered given your role as “cashia.”
No, it’s free. Unless you want to spend the night. Then you pay.
We can spend the night in the museum!?
Your dad said-asked, excited as he ever sounds.
Nora returned, apparently doubling as “my child” who you informed me “should not touch any of the items in the museum.”
For your child, it’s one dollar.
Although it’s atypical to charge for children and not adults, I paid you in Ice Cream Counter money from the Melissa and Doug ice cream toy we have. You folded the dollar and put it in your pocket.
As you can see, this apple (avocado) has a hole in it from the ants
you continued.
Your dad and I looked at each other filled with so much love. I didn’t even manage to snap a picture or quick video because I was right there with you in your museum.
You – my little and somehow still infinite love – provided some answers to my questions. You showed me so many “whats” you feel, experience, and learn at school: community, curiosity, creativity, imagination, improvisation, problem solving, collaboration, initiative, belonging, fun.
And “hows” you feel, experience, and learn in school; joyful, capable, and by doing.
I love these whats and hows for you. I wish them for all kids.
I know part of why you’re getting those whats and hows has to do with the rarified context in which you spend your days – Terra Moyo. I am grateful for this.
And I also cringe a little bit. Someday we’ll talk about the fact that your whats and hows in school are quite different from those of the vast majority of students in the world. You’re already pretty switched on when it comes to recognizing that things aren’t fair. Like any good big sister, you notice unfairness most with Nora. And, you also notice it when you see street children in Nairobi who you ask about with deep concern and a desire to change the painful inequities.
I will never fully understand why injustice exists — and why we get to live with the privileges we have — nor will I be able to adequately answer your questions on the matter. I can’t even answer your questions about street children now. I know your questions will keep coming and getting more sophisticated. More complex. I’ll do my best to learn with you, from you, and together through and in these lives we’re sharing.
And, I really want you to know that a big part of what brings me to the work I do is my belief that nature-connected learning (which I think can happen most immediately through simple nature-based learning practices2 in schools) can chip away at injustices by ensuring routine access to nature’s benefits for all educators and students during the school day. I’m not just saying that. I believe it. I have seen it.
In my dreams, all students are swimming in a nature school “soup” a lot like yours. This soup is filled with natural ingredients: potatoes (rocks), zucchini (leaves), carrots (sticks), onions (seeds), and herbs (grasses), and protein (insects). Pepper (soil), salt (sand), trees, forests, ponds, animals… The nature school soup fosters community, curiosity, creativity, imagination, improvisation, problem solving, collaboration, initiative, belonging, and fun. Swimming in this soup is joyful — and makes students feel more capable because they are making it themselves, together. It is relevant and real.
With nature-based learning in all schools I think we’re at least gathering the basic ingredients for nature school soup for all students everywhere. Does that make sense?
Thanks for inspiring me and teaching me every day. And for reading what you’ve heard me talk about SO much by the time you get this letter.
Love you,
Mom
I’ve used the phrase “other whole” ever since I learned about and studied Mujeres Creando — a feminist-artist collective in Bolivia back in 2002. As I remember it, there’s a saying about women wandering around looking for our “media naranja” (half orange) — a man to make us whole. Mujeres Creando turned this around with “No soy “I am not a half orange. I am a whole fruit in all of its variety.”
Nature-based learning practices are instructional (pedagogical) and classroom design actions to implement nature-based learning.
They can be employed by any educator, anywhere, at any grade level, in any content area, in any curriculum or school design model.
They can be applied in formal (i.e., in schools, during the school day) and informal (i.e., in everyday life) educational settings.
They are within an individual educator’s locus of control to implement.