Bound

Schools are bound:

• place-bound

• time-bound

• results-bound

• thought-bound

• action-bound

Thankfully, I have witnessed something which showed me that this needn’t be the case. With that very much in mind, I want to use this post to take the opportunity to reflect on learning and time.

No time in the present

Last week I spent the day in a small learning community hub in Cambridgeshire. There were 3 children bringing their projects to a conclusion. And the setting was perfect. They sat on large cushions tapping away on Apple Mac’s; a one-eyed dog nestled in amongst them - occasionally in receipt of some absentminded affection, but really just content to be amongst them as they toiled.

And toiled it the right word here because they were all very focussed. They didn’t need anything from me (they hadn’t said that, and they were open to answering my questions or responding to my observations, but it was just evident from how they worked) so I just sat on an old wooden chest that doubled as a tabletop and watched them work.

Time moved on, I guess, but I wasn’t aware of it or bothered by it in the way I used to be in my previous life. Time didn’t lead here, didn’t demand. It didn’t determine the shape of the learning. Didn’t require materialisation. There were no countdowns, or time check-ins, or minutes remaining or pending breaktime compromises to rekindle flagging motivation. I checked my notes later and they worked for almost 90 minutes, pushing break to nearly lunchtime without even realising it. Time was different here. I mean, it must have existed - it’s a scientific fact - but you could be forgiven for thinking that it didn’t.

Time for goosing

I suddenly became aware of something that I thought was quite significant: I wasn’t bristling at the moments of inattention, off-task banter and horse-play. I could see these behaviours differently; perhaps now as a necessary part of the creative process. There was intermittent goosing between the two boys. How could they sit on cushions and not feel the need to hit each other with them from time to time? But I allowed myself to watch these moments through their natural cycle and each time the boys returned to their work within a few minutes and with total focus. I have no doubt that a senior leader passing a classroom door and witnessing such activity would make a judgement, and not a positive one, and if part of a wider piece of monitoring would arrive at a damning verdict of behaviour in the setting. I was relieved that I was able to see it differently.

Learning beats and it breathes; it lives

I now started to look for the words to articulate what I was seeing. I largely failed in this (as my notebook attests) but I saw it completely: learning here here is unbound by time. What I think I was seeing was an outward, visible manifestation of learning with the ‘off-task’ behaviours simply occurring at natural waypoints in the process; a way of resetting, recalibrating, or stretching before renewed endeavour commenced. Allow children to synchronise to the wriggly beats and breaths of learning and it looks like it will be more powerful, sustained and sustainable. But then it hit me: if what I was witnessing here were the natural rhythms of learning then what must be the implications for the young person when they are expected to achieve peak performance in a smorgasbord of subjects each day, all chunked into 60 minute blocks? If one is natural then the other is very much not. Could it actually do some sort of cognitive harm?

We’ve missed break!

There were other notable learner behaviours evident. They helped each other. All the time. Problems were allowed out into the workspace as they occurred, and like responses in a comments box, solutions were offered up and out, and taken up (or not) accordingly. Some of these interventions were offered without even looking up. Others lead to a sudden lurch across the cushions to take a closer look before offering advice. Songs were sung from time to time. Problems were encountered and dealt with in order. Innovation occurred naturally - a new format for presented work was devised by one child and then shared with those who wanted to adopt it. In short, they worked in a truly authentic way; one that would not look out of place in a business start-up: collaborative, innovative, purposeful, humane. It breaks my heart to think that current mainstream can only offer disappointment, frustration and worse by comparison.