A conversation with The Aboriginal Transition to School Network

I have been back from my study tour for nearly two months now. I am often asked by friends, family and colleagues who haven’t seen me for a while "So how was your trip?" and it's always hard to answer, hard to quantify. I feel like I've only scratched the surface and yet I was meant to come back with extensive knowledge. I know that I have been gifted with the insights, wisdom and knowledge of the many people that I met and worked with while I was overseas. Now I am focussing on what I can learn from my colleagues in Australia. I am not only gathering my knowledge base in this respect, but also sharing what I have learnt with various groups and individuals. I am a believer in shared knowledge. We have a lot to offer each other as long as the lines of communication are opened and facilitated. Last week I presented to the Aboriginal Transition to School Network that meets in Western Sydney once a month. This group was formed some years ago to support each other in the work that we are doing with Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal children and students. While the main focus is in transition to school, the group collaborate in many other initiatives. As we share and learn from each other we are supported in our work. It is made up of community members from a variety of agencies and organisations and is facilitated by the Department of Education and Communities. If you would like to know more about this group please email me on ruth.garlick@det.nsw.edu.au. I was invited to share what I had learnt on my journey, so I started with the usual PowerPoint and discussion points. I raised some of the questions that puzzled me on entering into this venture. "What about literacy and numeracy when kids are outdoors every day? What about the safety and risk issues? Is this image of a child in the fire pit too provocative?" I ask these questions to hopefully encourage others to consider their own viewpoints in what I have seen to become topical issues in the concept of Nature Kinders. I have my own answers, developed from being overseas and from extensive reading, but I'm always interested to hear what others think. Well I didn’t need to present really. I found this group to be very interested in the concept and able to articulate their own perspectives, especially the Aboriginal members of the group. I wish to thank all that contributed for sharing with me. The stories you shared were inspiring and touching. Much of the conversation was led by the early experiences in nature of the Aboriginal people in the group. As I was showing images from overseas I was being told “That takes me back to my childhood. That’s the sort of childhood that I had”. The image of the fire pit came up and I shared how this is quite confronting to many Australians. It seems so very dangerous. This little boy is placing a log onto the fire that he was responsible for collecting, hand sawing into the right size and placing on the blazing fire. He’s about four, maybe five. The group stirred. “That’s exactly what we did when we were kids. We gathered around a fire. It was important to us. We even played with the fire.” To the Aboriginal members of the group the image of the fire pit reminded them of the significance of these sorts of experiences when they were growing up in their communities. The sense of belonging, being in a circle around the warmth and sustenance that a fire brings, and what they learnt from being involved in making it, cooking by it, even playing with it. I showed another image and got this contribution: “You don’t need to worry about the literacy and numeracy. Look at those kids, there’s lots of potential for language, for counting and stories” I shared the experience at one of the centres with worms and slugs and dividing a feast equally amongst the chooks. Yes plenty of opportunity, as long as it is utilised. When I asked the group to tell me about their special outdoor place when they were children, stories were shared. “There are photos of me laying in the groove of their old cow. They’d get up every morning and milk her and I’d be sleeping on the cow.” I pictured a bundle of baby wrapped and secured on a gentle old cow, the warmth and sweet scent penetrating through whatever was covering her as her mum got on with the tasks of the day. “Our special place was the river. It was a place where everybody went after school. There was a big mud slippery slide just like in those photos, and no adults. We went there as five and six year olds. There were lots of skinned bums and knees! The river was also for washing and all the family was involved in carting washing to the river. We also carted water from the river to the house.” I asked about the sense of place that these outdoor spaces provided. “Our sense of place not only comes from where we are from, like those country towns in the fifties. It comes from where we are now. You don’t have to be ‘back home’ to have a sense of home and community. It can be done where ever you live and it’s about the people you are with. It’s also about where your parents came from.” On my study tour I saw children being gathered into the community of the preschool. This occurred around the fire, or around a talking mat, sometimes it happened in a circle in the forest as we sat on logs or grass. It was done in small groups and as a large group. The concept of Nature Kinders has community at its very core. On two occasions I saw older children coming back into the places of their early childhood and their teachers and parents commented on how special it was for them to revisit the site. A sense of place lies within all of us, but I suspect that it has even greater significance for Aboriginal people, perhaps to regain their connection to the land. From my own perspective, I can’t bear to drive down the street where our house was. What was once an old timber clad house build by my father and grandfather, a lawn and flower gardens, an extensive bush paddock, including the dried up dam that cradled three enormous willow trees, has all been replaced by medium density town houses. My place is gone, but my sense of place is a strong as ever, as evidenced by my unwillingness to drive down the street and bear witness to its destruction. We spoke about many things during this meeting. How kids today depend on electronic gizmos to get through the day, how adults seem to feel the need to constantly hover, to entertain or to protect, when as kids they were left to make their own fun, to look out for each other and while adults were available if needed, they were not depended on for entertainment. We discussed the panic of black outs, tv and electronic devises not working, and the possibilities of a what a few hours being out the back door can bring. “I didn’t hear from them for two hours”. But the hard thing is it takes a black out to get them there. The partnership that occurs between educator and parent in Denmark was a topic of interest. “I love that educators in Denmark are seen as second parents so that there is joint engagement and partnership in the education of children. I think that here there is sometimes a disconnect between our families and schools” “Aboriginal preschools are seen as an extension of the family. That’s why we are called ‘aunty’.” There was also some discussion around the benefits of taking learning outside “Outdoor involvement in preschools and schools is keeping Aboriginal kids at school. Special days and outdoor learning engages children and encourages attendance, which they need because children seem to be disengaged from school these days. We need to be exposing children to places and activities that engage them and enthuse them.” From this discussion I was left with the impression that there are many Aboriginal perspectives to be considered in respect to the concept of Nature Kinders. If you have anything to contribute, please leave a comment on the blog. I hope to reflect more on this as I meet with others into the future, and continue my reading. Thank you again to the participants in this discussion from the Aboriginal Transition to School Network.

Dinner, conversation and ponies

So, how lucky am I? Last night I went to Jane Williams Seigfredsons beautiful house. Her lovely husband Keld picked me up, for which I was very thankful. They drive on the right hand side of the road here and I was constantly being alarmed, seeing oncoming lights in the distance and being on what I thought was the wrong side of the road. It goes to show that habit can't always be overcome by rational thought. I had to keep reminding myself that it was ok, I was actually on the correct side of the road and those cars weren't going to crash headlong into us. 

i was welcomed into their home with delicious food, red wine and conversation. We talked about pedagogy and curriculum as well as needlework and a little about politics. The food was devine and I can't thank Jane and Keld enough for their hospitality. 

Kel keeps two beautiful horses. They are fjord ponies and the prettiest horses you could ever hope to meet. He took me into his barn where there are lovely carriages that he has trained the horses to pull. Jane and I discussed at some leangth that the term 'breaking in' for horses shouldn't apply. They are not broken. A communication and respect develops so that horse and human can understand each other. I know from having kept a horse in the past that the bond that is developed is pretty special. 

So Kel took me into the barn. Ahhh the smell of horses! It's sweet and musky and earthy and I can't get enough of it. The first pony, a gelding called Monty, greeted me with such curiosity. He nuzzled me and let me place my head on his neck. I blew into his nostrils and he blew back. I was in heaven. Then I did the same with May, the mare. This small moment with these two gave me such a sense of well being,of calm and of joy that I reckon I would have come all this way just for that. My eyes moistened as I thanked Keld and told him how much of a highlight this one experience was. I can't explain this affinity I have with animals but it seems to be part and parcel of me. I miss my dog! 

Dinner, conversation and a hot tub

I spent the day yesterday (Saturday) driving from Crieff to Tyne in the North of England. I travelled over gorgeous countryside, all green fields and ancient cottages, sheep and cows. The traditional English countryside that many of us are familiar with from childhood scenes of farms in picture books. The world of Peter Rabbit. 

I have a strange problem where a drive renders me sleepy, especially if I'm behind the wheel, so I had to take lots of breaks and catch a kip every now and again. The four hour journey took over six hours, but I had something to look forward to when I got here. Sue Stokoe, the head teacher of Boldon Nursery School had invited me to her house for dinner. She was concerned that I might be lonely. I am sometimes lonely but there's lots to keep me connected to my friends, family, colleagues and various acquaintances while I'm here through technology. This blog is one way and I get very excited when I see a new comment, it connects me to the people I know and has introduced me to new people too, who have an interest, not so much in me but in what I'm exploring. A shared interest in this concept. However, it can't compare to real conversation over good food and a drop of wine. 

Anyway, a meal with Sue and her husband was something to definitely look forward to, and then she asked if I'd brought swimmers to this cold place. I replied that I never went anywhere with out them, so she said we'd jump in the hot tub after dinner. Woo hoo! I love hot tubs! 

I arrived at Sue's by 7pm, after being on the road since 12pm. I was tired but that didn't matter. As soon as I met her I knew I'd discovered a kindred spirit. To invite a complete stranger into her home was an extraordinary thing to me and something I often think of doing but haven't the confidence to see through. I was introduced to her family, her husband Keith and sister Julie and we began the evening with a glass of red wine. Sue cooked her very first vegetarian meal especially for me and it was delicious. I was provided with a fluffy robe and slippers and we all spent a good few hours simmering in the tub before attacking a delicious raspberry pavlova. What a night! 

Julie, Sue's sister had also joined us and the conversation, of course, was mostly about our work and our aspirations for children, communities and families. Keith and Julie had lots to offer on their perspectives of what is right for children. The transition from a nature kinder to school is a topic that has come up quite regularly this past week, and I was very interested in Sue's response to my question "What happens when they get to school". I wished I had recorded what she said, I'd write it in stone or put in a book of quotes, or make it into a poster. I got goose bumps hearing her say the very words I aspire to. I'll try to get it down here now, but be aware it's a poor translation and I was at least two glasses of wine down when I heard it. She said something to this effect:

"What we have given children at Boldon Nursery has given them skills for life. They are ready to take on the world, take on the next challenge. They have had a year of developing confidence in themselves as learners. Their parents have taken this on and if the school starts to comment on any difficulties the child is having in adjusting the parents do the questioning. They ask what the school is doing to accommodate their child's activity level, interests or ways of learning"

Wow! How good is that? to have developed an early childhood program that empowers parents to ask the hard questions. 

I crawled into bed at 1am in the morning, very inspired, very relaxed, and very happy. Thank you Sue, Keith and Julie for a wonderful evening. You are beautiful people and I feel very privileged to have had this opportunity to get to know you on a personal level. 

I will leave you with a couple of photos from our evening.