Beginning in Wonder
All learning begins in wonder.
- Michael Muir-Harmony, Co-Director of Full Circle School, paraphrasing Aristotle
There’s a photograph of me holding my son Kian shortly after his birth. I’m looking down at him and he’s looking up at me, and while you can’t tell exactly what either of us is thinking, you can tell we’re each taking in every detail we can. I of course had an advantage in knowing in advance he was going to be born and in having fallen in love with him before he ever had a clue I existed (beyond being a faintly muffled voice, if one of the more frequently heard). But as I held him and wondered at how much I loved him without really knowing him yet, I also wondered who he would be, and resolved that whatever else happened, I would support him in being the best possible person he could, and true to his authentic self.
Each year, as I prepare for a new group of students, I feel a little bit like I’m preparing for my son’s birth. I care about them before I’ve really had the chance to get to know them, I know that getting to know them will only make me care even more, and I know that I will do my best to support them in being the best possible versions of their authentic selves that they can be. It’s different from parenthood, of course. But the metaphor still resonates.
One of my favourite moments in the year is when my Humanities 7 students show up in class with the list of questions they’ve generated based on the prompts “What do you want to know about yourself?” and “What do you want to know about the world?” While there are themes that run through every year, not only do each year’s students often have unique takes on these themes but also they always come up with deep and intriguing questions that I’ve never seen before. I love, when people ask me, “So what are your seventh graders studying now?” to answer for example, “Right now, our theme question is ‘Is it better to have more questions than answers or is it better to have more answers than questions?” and watch their faces in reaction.
Having a theme question unites us a learning community, as does sharing the novels we choose together to support each theme question (one as a read-aloud, one as a group novel) and doing various activities together. There is also plenty of space for individual students to pursue questions that intrigue them; as each student presents what she learns, each member of her audience adds to their own storehouse of knowledge and experience in unique ways; we all learn and grow.
Of course, the learning and growing that takes places within the walls of our classroom also takes place in a society that does not fully value the feminine, or at any rate what we call the feminine. And that, too, is part of the magic of our work together in a feminist girls school - when my students work together, as they did in the fall of 2013, to define feminine for themselves as “powerful, strong, confident, being who you are, persistent, independent, awesome, rising,” I see hope for the future as these wonderful, questioning, affirming young people continue to grow up and take their place in society.
Bill Ferriter noted that perhaps the goal of students being “college and career ready” was insufficient and that we needed to include “community” as well. That is at root what I want my students’ learning to be about - growing in the critical thinking, reading, writing, and other skills they will need for their future success, but also growing in the equally important skills of active listening, respectfulness, advocacy, collaboration, and more. And I want to do everything I can to ensure that the culture in which they are progressively taking their place is willing and able to give them the full respect they deserve, no matter what their gender, race, sexuality, age, abledness, or status on any axis of diversity imaginable.
All learning begins in wonder.
- Michael Muir-Harmony, Co-Director of Full Circle School, paraphrasing Aristotle
There’s a photograph of me holding my son Kian shortly after his birth. I’m looking down at him and he’s looking up at me, and while you can’t tell exactly what either of us is thinking, you can tell we’re each taking in every detail we can. I of course had an advantage in knowing in advance he was going to be born and in having fallen in love with him before he ever had a clue I existed (beyond being a faintly muffled voice, if one of the more frequently heard). But as I held him and wondered at how much I loved him without really knowing him yet, I also wondered who he would be, and resolved that whatever else happened, I would support him in being the best possible person he could, and true to his authentic self.
Each year, as I prepare for a new group of students, I feel a little bit like I’m preparing for my son’s birth. I care about them before I’ve really had the chance to get to know them, I know that getting to know them will only make me care even more, and I know that I will do my best to support them in being the best possible versions of their authentic selves that they can be. It’s different from parenthood, of course. But the metaphor still resonates.
One of my favourite moments in the year is when my Humanities 7 students show up in class with the list of questions they’ve generated based on the prompts “What do you want to know about yourself?” and “What do you want to know about the world?” While there are themes that run through every year, not only do each year’s students often have unique takes on these themes but also they always come up with deep and intriguing questions that I’ve never seen before. I love, when people ask me, “So what are your seventh graders studying now?” to answer for example, “Right now, our theme question is ‘Is it better to have more questions than answers or is it better to have more answers than questions?” and watch their faces in reaction.
Having a theme question unites us a learning community, as does sharing the novels we choose together to support each theme question (one as a read-aloud, one as a group novel) and doing various activities together. There is also plenty of space for individual students to pursue questions that intrigue them; as each student presents what she learns, each member of her audience adds to their own storehouse of knowledge and experience in unique ways; we all learn and grow.
Of course, the learning and growing that takes places within the walls of our classroom also takes place in a society that does not fully value the feminine, or at any rate what we call the feminine. And that, too, is part of the magic of our work together in a feminist girls school - when my students work together, as they did in the fall of 2013, to define feminine for themselves as “powerful, strong, confident, being who you are, persistent, independent, awesome, rising,” I see hope for the future as these wonderful, questioning, affirming young people continue to grow up and take their place in society.
Bill Ferriter noted that perhaps the goal of students being “college and career ready” was insufficient and that we needed to include “community” as well. That is at root what I want my students’ learning to be about - growing in the critical thinking, reading, writing, and other skills they will need for their future success, but also growing in the equally important skills of active listening, respectfulness, advocacy, collaboration, and more. And I want to do everything I can to ensure that the culture in which they are progressively taking their place is willing and able to give them the full respect they deserve, no matter what their gender, race, sexuality, age, abledness, or status on any axis of diversity imaginable.