Circle up!

A huge part of Outward Bound, whether it be Outward Bound USA or North Carolina Outward Bound is the act of circling up and coming together for debriefs, reflections, or planning. 

During the second night at NCOB for our spring retreat with the Kurt Hahn Fellows (those involved in the educators intitiative), we enjoyed a dinner with the residents and staff at NCOB base camp at Table Rock. 

They come together for meals and have a communal space for the kitchen and eating. Before the dinner, just as happens on course, there is a coming together in a large circle — people clasp hands and speak of appreciations for one another, they talk about plans — it’s essentially a moment to recognize the community and your reliance on those people with whom you belong. 

As I looked around the circle, I thought about our own crew circling-up during course and before our meals. It’s a novel experience. Some people buy in, some people don’t — they always feel a little bit uncomfortable (but isn’t that what OB is about: finding your stretch zone and living in it). One reason we liked it so much is it was novel — it was something we weren’t used to and it symbolized some lofty ideals about the submission of the individual to the collective. 

These last five years represent both a continuation of how I’ve lived my life since I was 12 and a change. It’s the first time in a long time there has been some stability in my occupation and living situation. Even though I’ve moved from house to house, I’ve been part of the same residential school, teaching. More than that: I had known many members of this community from my time there as a student; I had also understood in what ways this community works. 

However, my life and work is still part of a school schedule. Every year some people come and some people go. Every four years, theres a complete turnover in part of the community. The faculty is in transition from year to year. 

I woke up this morning with the Beatles song in my head:

There are places I remember
All my life though some have changed
Some forever, not for better
Some have gone and some remain

All these places have their moments
With lovers and friends I still can recall
Some are dead and some are living
In my life I’ve loved them all

But of all these friends and lovers
There is no one compares with you
And these memories lose their meaning
When I think of love as something new

Though I know I’ll never lose affection
For people and things that went before
I know I’ll often stop and think about them
In my life I love you more

Though I remember I’ll never lose affection
For people and things that went before
I know I’ll often stop and think about them
In my life I’ll love you more

In my life I’ll love you more

I used to struggle a lot with this idea: that people were like meteors in my life. They appear out of nowhere, they light up the sky, destined to fade into the darkness of memory. You try to hold on to the moment for as long as you can, but it’s bound to pass. 

Kurt Hahn, founding father of Outward Bound writes that

Your disability is your opportunity

and I think I’ve spent a great deal of mental energy trying to ignore the disability of instability, of flux, of constant change, and I think I’m beginning to see how I can turn the challenges of developing community into opportunities for adventure and personal growth. 

The Human Knot: A Versatile Metaphor

Today I did the human knot with three of my classes. The kids loved it. We’re about 2 weeks into the term and I think the physical closeness was a big step in their bonding as a crew. 

For two classes (design) I used the knot as a metaphor for how to work together on group projects. 

For the other class (Art 1 foundation) we examined the emotions that different stages of the untangling knot could represent (we’re exploring the emotional qualities of line and color). Then I improvised and had them form the circle with every other person facing the opposite way and link hands (normally this is the end-result of untangling the knot). They then had to tangle themselves into a knot. Once there I asked them to find their way back to the circle. 

Interestingly, it took more (patience, creativity, strategy, time) to arrive at the circle from the knot than to arrive at the knot from the circle. We thought back to the emotions that we had labeled the knot with and extended the metaphor. They arrived at great conclusions: that it’s more of a challenge to arrive at harmony and balance than to fall into disorder, and therefore its worth setting it as a goal. That it’s easy to get confused and frustrated, but it takes cooperation, self-discipline, and strategy to achieve focus and peace. 
I’m very pleased with the outcome of this experiment! They made connections that I couldn’t have foreseen if I had planned it.

On my way to Charlottesville, Va.

For a retreat with others involved in the Educators Initiative at North Carolina Outward Bound. We’re looking at how to bring NCOB principles into the traditional classroom.

The Processing Pinnacle

Well gee, it’s been a while since I’ve made my way over here. 

I’ve been working hard and currently I’m dug in deep on a lot of projects. 

I thought I’d share a book I just finished that many of you educators might find invaluable. It’s all about processing experience and facilitating that processing for students so they have a better “meta-cognitive” understanding of what they’ve learned through an experience. 

The book is catered to experiential educators and uses outdoor education as its model, but you can easily apply every insight from the book to your own classroom. 

If you’ve read it, let me know what you think. How are you using some of these techniques in the classroom? How are outdoor education and traditional schooling different, and what does that mean for how we ask our students to process their learning?

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