Outdoor learning: the natural world yields results

One of the things I love about my job – as an outdoor educator and trainer – is hearing the stories of what happens to the children and adults when teaching and learning outside.

Everyone who works in the forest school world, from the early years sector through to further education, has profound stories. There are tales of shy children who have blossomed, aggressive children who have calmed down and teaching staff who have been being surprised by a student's abilities.

After attending a two day workshop on forest school pedagogy - a form of outdoor education - a teacher wrote to me recounting her experience. She works at a pupil referral unit, with some of the most disengaged young men in the county. As you can imagine, they come to her with a huge range of social, emotional and academic difficulties and they are not easy to teach. She has given me permission to share her email:

After last weekend, I spent a lot of time thinking about how I might improve the experience the group from the pupil referral unit are having in their time with me. I was particularly struck by what you said about some people having missed out on that vital play development stage early in life. I wanted to incorporate play into the next session without the 15 year olds feeling they were being treated as children.

I made some fairly simple changes to the session format, doing pretty similar activities to those we'd done previously, but encouraging a more playful approach. I tried to build into the session as much as I could of the spirit of the forest school approach - allowing myself to be led by the learners.

The results were remarkable. Not that the previous sessions were bad, but this time I finally felt that the young people and adult helpers were on the same side, the increased freedom relaxed everybody and the young people did actually unselfconsciously play.

We made catapults and tried to shoot my toy squirrel out of a tree, made shelters and did a bit of tree work too. The hardest part was keeping the adult helpers from stepping in too soon and helping.
In previous sessions the group have tended to ask, frequently, "when is it time to light the Kelly kettles?" always keen to move on to the next thing. But this time I had to stop them for lunch, they would have happily continued what they were doing for longer had time permitted. Their support workers were standing beside me saying things like: "Wow, I've never seen him do so much" and "I'm stunned that this is actually working."

At the end of the session I pass around my hat and we all drop in our name badges and say a few words about the day – it's supposed to be a time of reflection. The young people have previously complained about this part and have never said anything when it's their turn, leaving just the adults to comment.

But this time when they had the hat they all said they'd enjoyed the session - one young man actually asked for the hat back as he'd forgotten to mention something he particularly enjoyed.

Result. Thanks.

So, what happens when we go outside that makes it different from learning in the classroom?

Even though we may still have specific learning objectives in mind, the lesson becomes less formal, less teacher-led. Outdoor lessons naturally incorporate more movement, more sensory stimulation, more co-operation and talk but the lessons tend to have a slower feel. Is this anathema in our educational era of rigor and pace? Well, maybe. But so be it.
In my experience teachers and pupils need time and space in the week to slow down, to reflect and interact with the world at nature's pace – slow and steady. Remember the story of the tortoise and the hare? We shouldn't be herding our children along the track to the finishing line.

Learning in this environment gives students an appreciation and love of the natural world. If delivered professionally and sympathetically, outdoor lessons enable children to make connections to and within the environment. Given time, this leads them towards a profound recognition of their impact on the world. They understand, for example, not just how bees pollinate flowers but that for us to enjoy good food we are reliant on pollinators. Likewise, they see how resources are not limitless, by using cuttings from trees on their site, for example. But they also learn that there are ways in which we manage and sustain these resources.

As these children will be the town planners, politicians, farmers, consumers, business leaders and so on of the future, their understanding of environmental issues has a significance for us all. I think we should make it a priority that they understand green issues not just intellectually but also at this deeper, intuitive level.

One final thought. I am reminded of a year 6 boy who spent a morning with me playing with mud, picking it up, allowing it to drip through his fingers, smearing it on trees, carrying it around, showing it to people. "Look at my mud," he repeated, with wonderment on his face.

His teacher contacted me several weeks later. This pupil had written a story in which the main character is transformed into a mud monster.

"I have no doubt," she wrote, "that the impetus for this story was the morning he spent with you and the sensations he experienced. His use of descriptive language in this story is way beyond what I would usually expect of him. I am now planning regular sessions for the children in my class to be outside so that they can be inspired by the natural world."

Result, indeed.

Having spent 20 years in the primary and early years sector, Jo Ling is currently working as a freelance outdoor educator. She left mainstream education in December 2010, her last post as an assistant head teacher. She now works with schools, preschools, family groups and charities in promoting outdoor learning.

Source http://www.theguardian.com/teacher-network
Photograph: www.alamy.com