Why a Week in the Woods means more than a Year in the Classroom

It's stunning how much a kid can learn in a week. I've known this for a while--I spent seven summers working as a camp counselor at YMCA Camp Reed, on the shores of Fan Lake, Washington. Each Sunday I met a new group of kids, and six days later said goodbye. Over those six days, kids started new friendships, discovered new things about themselves, and often returned home a somewhat different person than they had been when they arrived. Across America, kids in other camps have been doing the same for decades. It's a timeless tradition, and rite of passage for many of our youth. It's amazing to me that six days can have such a lasting impact. There must be something special going on.

I work at a great school. We're small, we're kid-centered, and we're focused on real-life learning. I have the luxury of being able to take my students out into nature almost any time I want to. We do field investigations, we look at trees and bugs, we visit ponds and dig in the dirt. Sometimes my students complain that we've walked too far, or that it's too cold, but I know that these mini outdoor adventures do them good. But these outings are nothing compared to the experience my oldest students have before they transition to high school.

Each May, my school sends its eighth-grade students to YMCA Camp Orkila in Washington's San Juan Islands. It's not your typical summer camp experience--it's not all about fun and games, though the experience is fun, and there's lots of laughing and excitement. Rather, Camp Orkila puts on a first-rate environmental education program. Hikes to hidden tidepools, treks up mountain trails, challenges on high-ropes courses, and other outdoor-focused activities frame the week.

Each activity is about teamwork and personal challenges. Some are easier than others--the beachwalk is nothing like climbing the 60-foot-tall Giant's Ladder--but each activity is equally valuable. My school does a good job teaching kids to try new things, to interact with new people, to push boundaries and limits. But a week in the San Juan Islands goes beyond anything we've been able to accomplish back at home. It puts a final bookend on my students' middle school experience and helps them prepare for the transition to high school. A week in the woods teaches kids what it means to be part of a team and what it takes to overcome fears. A week in the woods means more to these students than an entire year in the classroom.

The 8th Grade Trip to Orkila has been a part of my school since its founding. I've been able to attend the past three outings. Each year, I'm stunned by the positive change that occurs in my students. My students really like their school. They like the teachers, they like their classmates, they like the classes. But on the 8th Grade Trip, it becomes obvious that students love their school. As we sit around the campfire on our final night and share memories and thoughts, students invariably say how much this school has meant to them and how much they'll miss being a part of our community. The tears around the campfire, from students and staff alike, are evidence of the power of school to make a difference. For my eighth grade students, their school isn't just a school--it's a home.

I feel corny writing that--talking about school as a home. It sounds like something out of an out-of-touch book on educational reform. Yet, it's truly the best way to describe the way my students feel about their school. They love the place. It's where they learned how to be themselves, where they learned how to make friendships, where they figured out what matters most to them. The 8th Grade Trip puts all of this at the forefront of my students' thoughts. As they hike to the top of Mount Constitution, my students realize they're hiking with people who have made a real difference in their lives. Many of them have been classmates and friends for four years, and they've come to count on each other's support. In just a few weeks, this chapter of their life will close, and students will have to say goodbye to a place, and to people, that have had a lasting impact on their lives.

I love the idea of closing out a school experience with a trip to the woods. The outdoors provide new perspective--a chance to discover new things about self and others. My time as a camp counselor showed me how powerful six short days can be for kids who are just tossed together into a cabin group. It's an even more powerful experience spending a week in the woods with kids who have been close for years. My favorite moments are when students discover something new about each other and are amazed they hadn't recognized it before. A funny laugh. A crooked smile. A love of salsa. Being outdoors, immersed in nature, gives kids a chance to see themselves and others in a new way.

It's an experience I wish every student could have. Getting outside--into the forest, into the grassland, into the swamp--teaches kids life lessons that classrooms cannot. Getting outside helps kids understand how they fit into the world and helps kids build relationships with each other in ways that school walls don't easily allow. Spending a week in the woods helps kids discover who they are, what matters most to them, and prepares them for future relationships. A week in the woods helps prepare kids for life.

Inspiration at Fort Worden State Park

After a week spent studying the sea with 5th and 6th grade students at Fort Worden State Park, at the northwest corner of Puget Sound, I've returned home with new ideas about kindling children's passion for learning.

We were participants in a program called "Water World," an inquiry-based exploration of science, art, and writing. The program, offered by Centrum, helps children learn about marine science from a variety of perspectives. Students dip their fingers into tidepools, draw anenomes and urchins, learn to move like jellyfish, and write stories as though they live in ocean waters.

It's multidisciplinary learning, and for students, it was magical. My students loved the opportunity to be creative, and they loved knowing that they could approach the natural world from whatever perspective they preferred.

As a science educator, I'm skilled at providing students with opportunities to learn about different ecosystems and environments, but including performance art and creative writing took the Water World science experience to a new level. Students developed deep understandings of the different organisms they encountered, and the connections between them, precisely because they learned to see the world from the perspective of these creatures.

Traditionalists would scoff that this week of learning wasn't really "science," and that art and drama don't have a place in science education. I take the other view. I think it's just what kids need. Providing children with an interface between science and art that helps them make connections with the natural world. Science isn't all about numbers and facts--it's about experiencing nature, asking questions, and exploring new ideas. What better way to do so than to develop an artistic representation of an ecosystem?

My week with students on the Western shore of Puget Sound showed me there's another way to teach kids science. Children deserve opportunities to make their own discoveries about the natural world, with a skilled guide to show them a way through the trees, across the mountains, and into the waters beyond. My week at Water World helped me define what the Small Scientist's Guides will be: a path for children into the natural world.