Blue: Experience in Surprising Forms

At the end of 2015, Blue hit the ground running with several things. We had a whirlwind of experts, and info, and field trips, and all the typical buzzword jargon that you would expect from any project-centric, experience-based education setting.We looked at celery under a microscope to learn about the cell structure of plants.We went to an aquaponics farm in Half Moon Bay to see the cutting edge of food production......and then basked in the cold ocean wind for the remaining afternoon.We visited a community farm deep in the urban landscape of San Francisco, where we learned about eating slow, and also sampled food right off the stem -- in December, no less.Yes, this is experience-based education. Clearly. As we crammed all this experience into only 3 days, it was clear that we were doing and learning at the same time.With that epic close to the year, 2016 has been a much different narrative for these curious humans.This week as been a transition from the phase of the arc where I drive the experiences, learning, and projects, to a phase where the Blue Banders declare their interests, propose a project, and write, re-write, re-write, re-write a letter of intention that clearly articulates their next five weeks of inquiry.That's all well and good, but consider this. During the time when we articulate and pitch, we've largely been in the classroom. Working. Writing. Sharing our ideas, getting feedback, and redoing the things we thought were good only to make them better. Over. And over.And we've been working on one thing. One required thing. A letter. A letter that gets a red light or a green light. It's admittedly a little formulaic. It's a little antithetical to the rejection of pedagogical norms that we celebrate here at 1960 Bryant Street. This process feels a lot like a test. And we don't do tests.So, what do I (I, the Collaborator and not the teacher, the Peer and not the grader) do with that? How do I set up a situation in which their experience of that very process is driven not by a set of specifically crafted toolbox, cookie-cutter formula, hoop, or checkbox?What, exactly, does experience-based education look like in a humanities-driven curriculum?Here's my first draft stab at articulating an answer to that question...This week has been a week of deadlines, scheduling, writing, and independence. As someone who has been a freelance/self-employed artist for most of my adult life, I've been trying to guide the Blue Band through what it takes to stay self motivated, to meet goals, and to have to answer to a client who may or may not like, understand, or appreciate the hard work you're doing. (And if that's the case, how do you stay motivated in the face of sometimes harsh criticism?)This week has been a true lesson in adulting for Blue.While they were writing their declarations, the Blue Band had several other side projects to work on. They developed research questions to help fuel their project ideas. They looked up a list of books to check out at the San Francisco Public Library. They made schedules for themselves, and also began researching experts to reach out to and ask for assistance.They also had meeting after meeting with me to ask questions, to pitch their ideas, and to get writing feedback on draft after draft.By taking the Blue Band through a process much akin to an graduate student trying to pitch a thesis topic to tough committee of seasoned academics, something surprising emerged.The experience-based curriculum, during this week, has been a twofold journey of learning about self motivation and etiquette. Determine what you need, and then figure out how to ask for it."How do I ask my Collaborator to re-re-re-re-read a document when seven other people are asking the same thing?""How do I ask a peer for feedback?""How do I provide feedback to a peer?""How do I ask a librarian for help?""If I want to ask a question of a Professor of Atmospheric Science at Cal, what do I type in the email? Do I use their first name? Mrs.? Dr.?"Of all the questions we asked and answered this week, frankly, my favorite inquiry surfaced when we spent the morning at the library. Multiple folks, on separate occasions, approached me and asked the same thing: "Can I check out books unrelated to my project?" My response was the same. A blunt, nonemotive, "Is that what you need to do right now?" Their consistent response -- always a "yes." If that's the case, then my response is also a yes.This is a lot of pressure, not being told what to do and how to do it. It's a lot of pressure to have to self-determine wants and needs and admit when you don't know the how to achieve it. My job right now is to gently guide that process by challenging and supporting these kids. And that's pretty amazing.Also, #libraryelevatorselfie