November 16, 2018<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It all started with\na question: Where does the charcoal live?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
On a cold, snowy November day, the children and educators decide to walk to the forest and venture on a quest looking for charcoal. The children scamper around the forest paths with big smiles on their faces, oblivious to the cold. They’re so well wrapped up in thermal and waterproof layers and so engaged with their outdoor experience, they seem to hardly notice the weather. Snow covers the forest floor in layers. As the children walk up the trail, they come upon a tree that fell a few months ago. We know this trunk. We visited it before, but it looks different covered in snow\u2014more beautiful and mysterious, inviting us to explore. The tree has a big hollow in its trunk, close enough to the ground that the children are able to peer closely and reach in, touching the depths and edges of the hole. The hole is large enough for the children to step inside. The big cavity is like an invitation for children to wonder and ask \u201cWho or what lives there?\u201d They decide it would make a perfect house for a fairy, or perhaps a forest animal. There are dried leaves inside, and it looks like a shelter for animals.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Some of the children suggest it is a cozy\nspace, perhaps a bed for a bunny or a squirrel.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I am listening, fascinated but I remind the children about our initial quest of finding charcoal. I ask myself, \u201cAm I an educator, a playmate, a researcher, or a risk manager?\u201d I know: I am an educator who wears many hats. I am all of these, and most importantly, I believe in joy and connection to the place and the moment. I look around and everything is safe and peaceful. I feel a snowflake on my face. It is snowing. White and black are all around us – It is beautiful. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Some of the children begin poking at the hole in the tree and ruffling the leaves inside. Suddenly the hole looks a little bit scary: dark and uninviting. <\/font>One girl says, \u201cIt is the Zig Zag!\u201d We all look at each other and smile, remembering the Zig Zag. The other educators ask, \u201cWho is the Zig Zag?\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n I wonder what sparked the connection between\nthe charcoal and the little twigs. Did the contrast of white snow and black\ntwigs resemble the white paper and black charcoal? Was it the tree without\nleaves that reminded us about the curvy, sinuous line marks we draw with\ncharcoal at the centre? Was it the Zig Zag that helped us establish these\nconnections or just all of this together?<\/p>\n\n\n\n On our way back to\nthe centre I checked my pocket. I touched some small black twigs, and it felt\nso nice. I will put them together with the charcoal and mark our quest for the\ncharcoal fulfilled.<\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" November 16, 2018 It all started with a question: Where does the charcoal live? On a cold, snowy November day, the children and educators decide to walk to the forest and venture on a quest looking for charcoal. The children scamper around the forest paths with big smiles on their faces, oblivious to the cold. They’re so well wrapped up in thermal and waterproof layers and so engaged with their outdoor experience, they seem to hardly notice the weather. Snow covers the forest floor in layers. As the children walk up the trail, they come upon a tree that fell a few months ago. We know this trunk. We visited it before, but it looks different covered in snow\u2014more beautiful and mysterious, inviting us to explore. The tree has a big hollow in its trunk, close enough to the ground that the children are able to peer closely and reach in, touching the depths and edges of the hole. The hole is large enough for the children to step inside. The big cavity is like an invitation for children to wonder and ask \u201cWho or what lives there?\u201d They decide it would make a perfect house for a fairy, or perhaps a forest animal. There are dried leaves inside, and it looks like a shelter for animals. Some of the children suggest it is a cozy space, perhaps a bed for a bunny or a squirrel. I am listening, fascinated but I remind the children about our initial quest of finding charcoal. I ask myself, \u201cAm I an educator, a playmate, a researcher, or a risk manager?\u201d I know: I am an educator who wears many hats. I am all of these, and most importantly, I believe in joy and connection to the place and the moment. I look around and everything is safe and peaceful. I feel a snowflake on my face. It is snowing. White and black are all around us – It is beautiful. Some of the children begin poking at the hole in the tree and ruffling the leaves inside. Suddenly the hole looks a little bit scary: dark and uninviting. One girl says, \u201cIt is the Zig Zag!\u201d We all look at each other and smile, remembering the Zig Zag. The other educators ask, \u201cWho is the Zig Zag?\u201d The child with the big branch pokes some more and we see little twigs around the tree trunk and inside the hole. They are small and dried, and they feel exactly like the charcoal inside the classroom. I wonder what sparked the connection between the charcoal and the little twigs. Did the contrast of white snow and black twigs resemble the white paper and black charcoal? Was it the tree without leaves that reminded us about the curvy, sinuous line marks we draw with charcoal at the centre? Was it the Zig Zag that helped us establish these connections or just all of this together? On our way back to the centre I checked my pocket. I touched some small black twigs, and it felt so nice. I will put them together with the charcoal and mark our quest for the charcoal fulfilled.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":10,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[16,5,13],"class_list":["post-371","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-forest-tensions","tag-charcoal","tag-materiality","tag-paying-attention"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/witnessingruinsofprogress.climateactionchildhood.net\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/371","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/witnessingruinsofprogress.climateactionchildhood.net\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/witnessingruinsofprogress.climateactionchildhood.net\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/witnessingruinsofprogress.climateactionchildhood.net\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/10"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/witnessingruinsofprogress.climateactionchildhood.net\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=371"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/witnessingruinsofprogress.climateactionchildhood.net\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/371\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":373,"href":"https:\/\/witnessingruinsofprogress.climateactionchildhood.net\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/371\/revisions\/373"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/witnessingruinsofprogress.climateactionchildhood.net\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=371"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/witnessingruinsofprogress.climateactionchildhood.net\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=371"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/witnessingruinsofprogress.climateactionchildhood.net\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=371"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
The child with the big branch pokes some more and we see little twigs around the tree trunk and inside the hole. They are small and dried, and they feel exactly like the charcoal inside the classroom. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
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