On a recent writing retreat, several of us woke hours before breakfast and decided to hike one of the many trails surrounding the property. We located a simple map at the front desk of the inn where we were staying that contained more narrative than logistical directions (“over a small crest,” “past the stone wall,” “slightly bear to the left”), tied on our sneakers, and set out.
In our group, one person took charge of the map, and another would lean in and offer assistance when a particular part of the directions was unclear. Another hiker was always at the head of the pack, blazing the trail, taking direction from the navigator. A different hiker pointed out the wild blueberry bushes peppering the sides of the path and explained when they’d likely be ready, based on their location and the amount of sun they were receiving; one told stories of snakes, to which others added their stories of fear; and another shared joy about their childhood collection of “rattlers” passed to them by their grandfather. Another hiker was always five to 10 steps behind, picking up and pointing out red salamanders, vowing to look up the “real” name and share it when everyone returned to the lodge (red-spotted newt).
As I observed, I slotted these behaviors into roles of navigator, assistant, storyteller, and naturalist. I also noticed different approaches, paces, and needs for both quiet and chatter—some remained constant throughout the hike, while others ebbed and flowed, depending on the stimulus and surroundings.
The woods and all that was around us provided each person with what they needed to be successful and experience joy on that hike—as an individual and as a group. There was a clear goal with flexible directions, there was time for discovery, and it was acceptable to go fast or go slow, as long as we were able to find our way back to the pack and the path. There were peers to process and collaborate with, and there was a sense of satisfaction when the mission was complete and we all arrived back at the trailhead.
In our classrooms, our learners, much like this group of hikers, take on different unspoken roles within their community that capitalize on their unique identities and lived experiences. These roles can shift and change based on the context, situation, or level of scaffold around them. Learners also want and need different amounts of time for different tasks—some will lead and some will linger.
As you observe your community of learners, which roles are they filling? Who are your trailblazers, your navigators, your helpers, your storytellers, your naturalists? Who wants to rush ahead and who wants to go more slowly, soaking in the small details?
Now think about the structures in your learning space and in your schedule that will allow each student to capitalize on their natural learning style and express their learning identity. Are there places to do things as a large group, in smaller groups, and to process information more independently? If you aren’t quite sure and need a place to begin, here are a few ideas to try on:
- Provide choice of materials in every content area whenever possible. Offer pens, pencils—those that need to be sharpened, mechanical, and colored; markers—thick, thin, short, long; lined, unlined, and graph paper in different weights (newsprint, construction paper, tagboard) and colors. Allow students to touch each type and practice writing on them to see what looks and feels right for that learner from a visual and sensory perspective.
- Reconsider your transition times. Schedules are tight, and educators feel pressured to squeeze every moment out of each learning block, often quickly wrapping up one block and then rushing into the next. This might work for our trailblazing kids who are always ready for the next thing, but it doesn’t work as well for our salamander spotters. Consider using a song that begins when it’s time to transition and invites every child to fully transition anytime within the time frame of that song. This saves your voice, avoids reminders to the same children who typically need a little extra time that can feel shaming, and adds a spark of playfulness to the day. You can choose the song when you first introduce the routine, then allow the students to take more ownership of the process by selecting and perhaps voting on school-appropriate songs.
- Rearrange your space to create different learning opportunities for kids to learn. Consider David Thornburg’s model of Campfires—spaces for learning with a storyteller (teacher, mentor, elder, expert); Caves—spaces for quiet reflection, introspection, and self-directed learning; and Watering Holes—spaces for social learning with peers as you think about the range of learners in your classroom and how you might configure it to facilitate these different types of learning.
Offering students choice, control over time, and creative learning spaces can help ensure your diverse learners—from the trailblazers to the salamander spotters and all the beautiful things in between—will be successful and experience joy in their learning.
