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An Ecological Approach To Education
Parking lots are boring, lifeless, flat and ordinary.
Parking lots require constant maintenance and expense. Because they will eventually and inevitably fail, parking lots are doomed the moment they’re created. From the day of its creation, a parking lot contains tiny imperfections in its surface; let’s call these imperfections “edge.” Inevitably, edge (no matter how minute) provides an opportunity for water to pool and, over time, this water seeps into the asphalt. As seasonal temperatures meander above and below zero, water alternately freezes and expands; this creates more edge. In an accelerated feedback loop, edge creates edge and the parking lot crumbles. As crevasses grow they link together, forming networks that allow water to flow freely from fracture to fracture. Over time, windswept dust, soil and seeds tuck themselves tightly into the fissures. Solitary at first, hearty pioneer species (we call them weeds) grow roots that widen the network of cracks. Intrepid explorers, these hearty pioneers capture energy and nutrients. As roots penetrate asphalt in search of water, the stem and leaves thrust simultaneously skyward in search of sunlight. The addition of plants represents a vertical expansion of edge and the introduction of life, and marks a milestone in a parking lot’s life cycle. As flowers blossom, insects draw near in search of nectar, and birds linger in hopes of an easy meal. With the blossoming of a flower, the parking lot shifts; once lifeless, it is now an upward spiralling network of connections. Connections and diversity flourish, each creating the edge necessary for the next stage—creating conditions that are conducive to life. In fact, it’s as though parking lots yearn to be connected, resilient and alive!
A forest is the opposite of a parking lot; a forest is networked, interconnected, complex, adaptive and resilient. Self-sustaining, regulating and propagating, forests require no maintenance or cost.
Nature is resilient. Even at the peak of destruction, rebirth is present; as a forest burns to the ground, seeds are released and a life cycle renewed. The resilience of a forest is a result of its interconnected nature made possible by increasing its potential for connections (edge) over time.
This trend from fragile simplicity to resilient complexity offers many lessons for other networked systems, such as education. Just as forests grow by expanding their edge outward, so, too, does the process of learning. In isolation, a single idea is like a parking lot—unstable, unconnected and almost certainly destined for failure. In contrast, learning is the integration of new concepts and ideas into the edge of our current understanding. In physical terms, ideas live at the edge of branching neurons and synaptic connections. When dendritic arms reach for each other, they (like cracks in pavement) network together and increase our ability to make new connections.
A concept on its own is easier to forget than two connected concepts are. By making personal connections to new ideas or concepts, we increase our personal edge of understanding. In a sense, learning is successional; each stage builds upon the connections before it, thereby providing the necessary connections for the next stage of learning (scaffolding). As with hearty pioneer species transforming fertility, some ideas fail to establish themselves and die, while others, like long-lived trees, take root and support entire systems of connections. In either case, just as the forest creates conditions conducive to life, learning creates conditions conducive to learning. There is a natural progression in our understanding at each stage. Our minds, like ecosystems, are networks: they gather, retain, cycle and build resources, and increase edge, complexity and resiliency as time passes. Who waters a forest? Who teaches a learner? Both are self-perpetuating networks. Clearly, without resources, success is not possible; however, even with the most minimal resources (think back to the parking lot) it’s in the nature of networks to capture, retain and use the resources around them to their utmost potential. At their foundation, networks increase their own edge.
If we acknowledge that networks’ complexity and connections create resiliency, what then are the implications for education? If the general tendency of networks is to increase edge over time (to move from simple to complex, from unstable to resilient), then what lessons can we apply to the teaching profession? Our analogy demonstrates the importance of scaffolding new knowledge with prior understanding and suggests that the success of a diverse group of students depends on approaching lessons from multiple angles, learning styles and teaching methods. This also holds true for assessment; honouring and validating students’ expressions of understanding through diverse methods is like building a successful network. On a more subtle level, networks explain why enabling students to explore the curriculum through the context of their personal interests and passions is powerful.
Generally, we like what we’re good at and we’re good at what we like. In practice, learning what we’re interested in is easy because we already contain a great number of existing connections to build upon. New concepts are less taxing because they link easily to existing ideas, and create “aha!” moments instead of blank stares. At first glance, the idea of increasing the complexity of our education system may appear daunting, though it’s important to note that we’re referring to the system, not the person. Individually, teachers can’t (should not and need not) be expected to undertake an unachievable number of tasks; rather, they should be provided with the opportunity to excel at their individual strengths within an integrated system. All people have their own specific strengths and weaknesses; the challenge is not to master our weaknesses but to align our strengths so that weakness doesn’t limit us. If the resilient mind is a connected mind, then resilient people are intimately connected to the community around them. What, then, might the resilient school look like?
Expanding networks help us better understand current trends in education and enable educators to observe the present and more accurately anticipate the future. As an example, in recent years, creative problem solving has been highlighted as an important 21st-century skill. Unfortunately, creativity is rarely defined and often perceived as trivial in comparison to the pursuit of knowledge. However, networks help promote creativity. If the old adage that “there are no new ideas” has any truth, it could be said that creativity is the process of connecting existing ideas in new and novel ways (forming new connections between older, or previously disconnected, concepts).
Understanding networks in relation to curricular outcomes could be the overarching direction that education should pursue. For decades, our schools have been sculpted to reflect linear, structured, Newtonian and industrial models of understanding while existing in a highly networked world. Grouped by age, not ability, students progress through their educational careers, moving from a broader education in elementary school to specialization in high school. During this journey, we witness a funnelling that is the opposite of the upward spiral of successful networks, and we risk missing the bigger picture. Change is upon us!
It could be said that the education system has traditionally more closely resembled a parking lot than a forest, though, as educators and lifelong students, we have the opportunity to create new connections and edge. Already we see schools branching out into communities, new ways of understanding are being valued, new methods for moving through (and between) curricula are being explored, better assessment practices are being developed and technology is connecting us like never before. As each new expansion of the system’s edge results in new connections, we see the exciting potential for education to become a highly diverse, connected and resilient system. A forest.
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Dustin Bajer is a teacher, master gardener and permaculture designer working with students at Jasper Place High School, in Edmonton, to create the JP Permaculture Program.
