Remember when school was good?
Of course, you do. Perhaps it was a favorite teacher that inspired you to great heights. Maybe it was a coach or even a parent that made a difference in your life.
For many of us, those people who made us roll up our sleeves get tremendous kudos as heroes.
I loved the diaramas and stuff that made you get your hands dirty with education. Mostly what we did in school was work in workbooks, though. Yet, those times when you could research all you want--in books--and take away some knowledge that seemed rare, but worth sharing. Esoterica.
I remember making a diarama of the North Pole. Matthew Henson making his way across the frozen tundra of my mother's boot box. I had to find a whole bunch of cotton balls to make the clumpy snow just right. Then, of course, there was the igloo made out of real sugar cubes. None of those fake packets that you get from the diner, but real sugar that Mr. Ed would eat. Finally, the little green army men from some other campaign made their way in as our explorers. Ahhhhh!
Learning should really be about play. It should be about exploring and imagining other worlds that are outside of our own world. We are so very happy when we can get outside of ourselves and into our own mind. When was the last time that you allowed your mind to wander in creative play? Huh?
One of the serious problems with today's children is that their learning has been pre-packaged for them already. They have no imaginations (or peripheral vision) because all of the work they do makes them stare straight ahead into one long line to adulthood. A parent at my school gave me that image this past weekend as we watched our sons playing soccer on opposing teams. They were going up and down the soccer pitch in a game that neither of them looked like they were enjoying very much--ahead and behind in one long programmed whirl.
Even as I type this particular blog, I am reminded how my own vision and creativity has been circumvented by the linear looking ahead and behind. What about being blown sideways by an idea that completely takes you by surprise? What about hearing a poem or a piece of music that allows the mind to expand into a Coltranian reverie, "Dear Lord!"
I love the imagination and imagining. Yet, why is it so hard for us and our children to understand and to see what's just on the opposite ends of their reach, maybe even a bit beyond.
It's been nearly a week since I blogged last and my mind wants to remember what invention is like, what creation is about. God reminds us all, every day.
Namaste,
Brian
