Lost in the Wilderness: Project 180, Day 159

Day Forty One. Though it’s not far removed from my practice in the real classroom, the learning opportunities I seek to give my kids in the distance classroom rely mostly on kids’ self-assessment of their work. And though some may think it’s more a matter of my saving myself time (it does), there’s a larger scheme at play here. I want kids to develop an intimate relationship with their learning.

If we imagine school a wilderness, then the kids are placed in a vast forest from the moment they begin, saplings set to fill their own space in the wood as they seek the sun through the canopy above. But, as they grow, they blend into the blur of a nondescript oil painting, a pretty painting from afar–wall worthy, indeed. But then something happens, later or sooner, they take a closer look to find themselves in the wood, and they struggle to see, to find their tree in the forest. Some are lucky. They find their trunks tall, distinct–a fingerprint in the wilderness. Others are not so lucky. They find their trunks stunted, their leaves withered–the tallness of others their only distinction. But most are fooled to focus from afar. They find their tree the forest, claiming to see what everyone else says they can see. And the scene endures. And the painting hangs in the living room of our nation.

But I want the kids to see their trees. Their trees. I don’t want them to blend and blur from the broad strokes of my brush on their experience. I want them to paint the finer details into their own landscapes that surround and support their trees. They have to develop an intimate relationship with their own growth, their own learning. And I believe that begins and ends with their own reflective/meta-cognitive assessment of their work. Those are the details. That is fingerprint in the wilderness. The original work. I can stamp out pretty prints with my evaluative assessment and call it learning, but if I fail to place the brush in the hand of the learner, she risks losing her tree in the surround. And so, I let her paint her own picture as I guide her through the wood we call school, hoping in earnest she keeps her tree.

Okay, fancy words aside, I believe we have to let kids–through reflection and meta-cognition–develop intimate relationships with their own learning. That said, this week’s assignment relies on kids’ assessing their own work. And though it will save me time, there’s a bigger picture to be found, one with distinct trees–fingerprints in the wilderness.

Here’s a glimpse at the assignment. Nothing fancy as far the product goes, but the process is intentionally designed for kids to take ownership, to take the brush. What will stick? I suppose that will be different for each kid. But I want to believe that whatever sticks is because of their efforts to better know their learning.