Secret Diary of an Irish Teacher: Learning outside? It's a natural solution to Covid classrooms

“You might get a bit jaded about certain subjects. They get so excited that it re-energises you to know more about it."

One thing made clear from all the high jinks last weekend was that schools are staying open, no matter what. Even if we hit Level 5 and giant robot spiders take to our streets, children are going to school. I’m happy with that; I just hope it’s the safest decision for everyone.

Convinced schools are not out ’til summer, I’ve been pestering my students to wear warmer coats. Thanks to Covid, we’re all sitting in the same room, in the same chairs, for hours on end. I genuinely worry that someday I’ll look down and find thirty beautiful ice sculptures at their desks – very well behaved but frozen entirely solid.

Sadly, my students insist on wearing ripped jeans, more rip than jean, teamed with waist-skimming jackets. I totally get where they’re coming from – worried about looking cool and whatnot. My poor misguided 6’4” husband initially thought I was within his range. He discovered – far too late of course – the giant platform shoes, hidden craftily beneath my very wet, very heavy, bell-bottoms. I dragged those trouser legs through three soaked years of college. I can still feel the rising damp.

But seriously, schools are beyond cold right now; every window is flung wide open.

But so too are the possibilities.

Imagine if we all went out and bought warmer clothes for ourselves? Practical clothes. More of us could walk or cycle happily to school and work, tackling obesity and depression. I’ve a friend living in the Arctic circle who wears animal blubber for God’s sake. Surely, we can manage a warmer, waterproof jacket. Right?

We could reconsider education too. Instead of being in riskier indoor environments with up to thirty children and two teachers, we could be gathering outdoors, warmly dressed, safe and motivated to learn. Currently, we’re all frozen in windswept classrooms anyway. Why bother? Why not get moving?

This is not a new idea. Rousseau discussed the importance of learning outside in the eighteenth century. It’s also exactly what educators did when tackling tuberculosis over a hundred years ago. It’s common practice in Nordic countries and there’s a growing interest in forest schooling across Ireland and the UK. In Reggio schools, first developed in Italy after World War Two, the environment is the third teacher, alongside the human teacher and other students. A broader canvas is believed to aid critical thinking skills, preventing the kind of brainwashing Italy witnessed during the war.

We need our young people to be critical thinkers. But we don’t need to make radical changes to make it happen; we just need to dress properly and walk through those classroom doors. We seem to be in a strange denial when it comes to our climate. It rains a lot here, but how many of us have full waterproof gear? We’re beyond blessed to have such a beautiful, inspiring landscape but we spend far too much time indoors complaining about the weather.

And there’s heaps of evidence to suggest that getting out would go well for us. Numerous studies assert that being out in a forest or a field reduces stress, improves motivation, and builds resilience. But I don’t think we need the studies. It’s something we just know.

Anxiety is worsening in our young and it’s possible that excessive screen time and introspection brought on by social media isn’t helping. Nature has a way of putting things in perspective for all of us. It’s our greatest spiritual healer. Standing by an expanse of sea or beneath a canopy of ancient oaks, we instinctively grasp our insignificance. It’s important for young people to feel that way every so often. To understand that they’re a small part of a much bigger, connected universe. That the clouds will keep shifting, even if they do badly in a test or fall out with a friend. I’m reminded of a lovely poem by Mary Oliver where the speaker is deep in their troubled head until the river tells them to move on because they’ve ‘work to do.’ 

Of course, educators would need to plan accordingly. And parents would have to battle with teenagers over their fashion choices. I’m not suggesting we’ll skip into fields like we’ve fallen out of The Sound of Music. We’ll need to reconfigure ourselves to suit life in the great outdoors. We may have to start lessons indoors, explain the focus and then plan an activity that makes more sense outdoors, perhaps asking kids to ‘walk and talk’ or ‘rotate and relate.’ I’m willing to give it a try. Yes, this week, I’m going to boldly go where I’ve never gone before. Out into the school yard. Looking small, a lot less cool, but in nice practical shoes and waterproof clothing.

As a parent, I’d love to know that my child has spent a good chunk of their day outdoors. No more feeling guilty about curling up in front of the television with them like a cat. Inspired, we might even head to the forest as a family at the weekend, make silly hats out of moss, watch the light sparkle on the rocks. We might plug into the real world and out of our computers. Covid might do my family some favours.

All we need is matching rain gear (we might as well go a little Von Trapp) and an acceptance that there’s no such thing as bad weather, only badly chosen clothes.