On Mess, Process, and Learning

Very recently, I had a chance to learn how to make fire.¹ And when I say, "make fire," I don't mean using matches or coals or even flint and steel. I mean, make a fire using nothing but three pieces of wood and a length of rope.

It was awesome. And hard. I have the sore arm and back muscles to prove it.

I worked on learning how to do this with several of my colleagues - all of us with higher degrees, a few of us even sporting Ph.Ds after our names. In spite of our credentials (or maybe because of?), it took over an hour - and the collective efforts of eight very educated people - to start two fires.

We began well. We figured out that we'd need to fit the spindle-shaped piece of wood between the two flat boards, and then turn the spindle to create friction. In order to spin the spindle fast enough, we'd need to wrap the rope around it and pull back and forth on the ends to gain better leverage. We managed to get some smoke going, which excited us. But then, there were set-backs. We somehow dulled the ends of the spindle to the point that it wasn't really spinning that well. Also, we were getting smoke from the wrong end of the spindle. Our rhythm for pulling on the rope was poor - the strokes too short to get good flow on the spindle-turns.

We made adjustments. We discussed and asked questions of each other and tried working in silence. We tried again. And again. And again. And again. We got really, really tired.

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I admit that after the third time we'd got an ember going but failed to light the tinder we'd made from some pieces of frayed rope, I felt pretty darn frustrated. Just getting to the point where we could get the wooden spindle smoking against another board to build up some "coal dust" (what I was calling it in my head) and then the ember from that, was hard work. But then, having to ratchet up to the next step and figure out how to get that ember to actually catch on the kindling and transform into a flame felt like another beast altogether. Learning to build a fire took multiple attempts (I lost count after the fifth failed ember), lots of adjustments, some discussion, and no insignificant amount of teamwork.

And when we finally did it? It was exhilarating, gratifying, and satisfying like few things I've ever done.

I tell you this story because it reminds me that learning is messy. It's non-linear, inconsistent, and has ebbs and flows. It required a lot of effort, a good deal of determination and persistence, and considerable flexibility - both of mind and manner. There were little triumphs, many "failures," and definite frustration. We needed not only the time and the room to figure things out and try various strategies, but the opportunity to work at it until it felt right. Part of the "feeling right," had to do with finding out who was good at what, which role was best assigned to which team member. And then, really ramping up on each individual's strengths to contribute to accomplishing the objective: starting a fire.

I know now, that were I ever in a situation that called for it, I have the rudimentary knowledge and ability to get a fire going. I know that it might take me a really long time, but that if I keep working at it, applying what I learned today, I could get it to happen. I feel fairly confident about that, despite - or maybe because of - the amount of time and the many attempts and iterations we made at getting that first fire started - that I can be successful at this venture. And knowing this, I also know, I learned it. I really understood and internalized that process.

All of this makes me wonder, how often does this happen with and for our students in school classrooms?  How often do our education systems give students the space, time, and opportunity, to have and experience truly authentic, messy, engrossing, exhausting, exhilarating learning? Where and when do we find the place in schools, to teach our young people that learning is a process and that "failure" and frustration are integral steps in that process? Chances are the answers to these questions run along the lines of, "rarely," in best case scenarios, and "never" on average.

So, all of that being said, I will also say this: we generally agree that we need to reform and transform our education system. It is and will be a process, much like learning to start a fire. It is and will continue to be a hell of a learning experience for all involved. And here's what I'd like to remind us of, as we develop, iterate, challenge, discuss, adjust, and adapt during and through all of this - let's give ourselves room and time to figure things out and try various strategies - let's provide opportunities to work at it until it feels right.² And as we do that - let's remember what this has been, is, and will be for us - and provide those things for our students and young people as well. Learning is a process and it's a messy one. Accepting and embracing that as learners will make us far more powerful as educatorsAnd in the end, that is really far more than okay.


¹Thanks to Michael Trotta of Sagefire Institute for teaching us how to build fires - and some other very important lessons.
²As I write this, I feel the need to clarify that I am concerned that if we wait too long, we might end up losing an entire generation of students while we figure things out. Timely action and thought is required. But hopefully, not at the expense of necessary time and very necessary thought, if that makes any sense.