Living It!

To hear the residents of Gordy Hall tell it, they live in the "greenest" dorm of any independent school in the country. And these Maine Coast Semester students love to describe the dorm's environmental virtues. Sunshine bathes the interior from large south-facing windows. Special skylights called "sun tubes" concentrate light so well that students can keep their lamps off all day. Recycled denim insulation in the walls means that the high-efficiency wood stove has to burn less frequently in winter, even on the coldest days. Solar panels provide plenty of juice, but if it's a cloudy day, a student can jump on a bike, charge auxiliary batteries, and get some exercise all at the same time. Best of all, students built the dorm themselves using lumber milled from sustainably harvested trees on or near Chewonki Neck, a 400-acre peninsula in Wiscasset, Maine, where the Maine Coast Semester Program is located. Other wood in the building was salvaged from the structure that previously stood on the site.

Gordy Hall, the students will tell you, is a "living space" in every sense of the term.

Students attend the Maine Coast Semester for just one semester of their junior year, so the girls in Gordy Hall will all return to their "sending" schools around the country. It may seem odd that such students choose to leave their family and friends and sporting teams and all that is familiar for a single semester. But they do so because semester schools offer an opportunity for students to immerse themselves in an area of deep interest. Prior to coming, they've already demonstrated particular proclivities, an interest in environmental sustainability among them. The programs offer opportunities for travel abroad, the exploration of American natural and urban environments, an intense focus on the visual arts, or richly rewarding service-learning opportunities. Some schools integrate a combination of these areas into an interdisciplinary approach that is quite rigorous and, for the high-performing students more accustomed to a traditional independent school classroom, academically liberating.

Consider the curriculum for the girls of Gordy Hall: Natural History of the Maine Coast, Literature and the Land, a course in ethics, electives in Environmental Issues or Art and the Natural World, as well as courses in American history, math, and foreign languages — all of it as integrated as possible. The issues that the girls of Gordy Hall find in an essay by Wendell Berry, for example, transfers to the work they'll do on the school's farm, which might affect a scientific study plot in the nearby salt marsh, which is just below a graveyard they'll visit during a colonial history lecture — all of which connects to an Environmental Issues project on change in coastal wetlands, which might lead (as it did in years past) to testimony before a state legislative committee. Seeing their studies holistically and being asked to apply what they learn directly to the world and people around them — often in extended projects — pushes students to new levels of confidence and maturity. Forty semesters of alumni also prove that many students discover their future academic and career paths here.

Beyond the classes they take and the dorm in which they study and sleep, the students at Maine Coast Semester are, in effect, modeling a quality 21st-century education — one that integrates traditional curricula and experiential education in a way that deeply infuses the learning and connects it to essential issues in life. The students understand, however, that the intensity of the semester and the focus of its community are unique. "We talked a lot about recycling, not energy" says Abby S. of her experience at her suburban New York school. "We'd hear lectures and I'd think about what I was doing wrong instead of thinking about how to make changes." Rachael B. from New Jersey echoes those sentiments. "Sustainability was distant at home. People felt as if the solutions were either too expensive or that the earth was doomed anyway. We had assemblies on global warming, and some students became annoyed by them, saying they hated the issue. There was a kind of backlash." Inevitably, these comparisons arise between the semester and the schools back home, but it's a healthy tension that gives way to worthwhile insights. Students recognize that their experiences are part of a living laboratory. "It's different at [the Maine Coast Semester]," observes Olivia B. from Washington, DC. "Here, we're experiencing sustainability firsthand. We have direct contact." A dorm-mate, Alexis B. from Georgia, says simply, "We're living it."

Though most schools can't provide such intensive experiences for all students, more and more schools recognize the value of experiential education. "Living it" has become a goal for many independent schools. Henry Wood, director of accreditation with the Association for Experiential Education and former faculty member at The Westminster Schools (Georgia), notes that diverse experiential offerings are available in countless independent schools. "In their hearts, schools have long believed that experiential education works. Now, they are looking for ways to integrate curricular threads into multiple subject areas, and they see that the development of the "whole child" and character education are more fully realized in these programs. Accompanied by brain research that indicates that people learn better when actively engaging in the subject matter, rather than passively accepting it, experiential education is beginning to pick up some real momentum." In addition, market forces are encouraging schools to commit time and resources to experiential options. "Independent schools can differentiate themselves from public schools by promoting integrated programs," comments Wood. "That's driving some of the development we see. At the core," he laughs, "I believe that traditional schools are beginning to realize that those fleece and Birkenstock folks have something really good going."

"Here, we're experiencing sustainability firsthand. We have direct contact."

It is hard to precisely assess just how many experiential programs exist, but they fall into some broad categories: science-based studies, outdoor education, service learning, travel and study, internships, and projects. That range is often seen in a developmental progression, with the youngest students investigating the world around them and the oldest embarking on independent work. The examples that follow illustrate that arc and provide some examples of just how creative schools can be.

Oak Lane and Lessons from Nature

Familiar to many will be a place like Oak Lane Day School (Pennsylvania). Its PS–6 students convene on a spacious campus that includes marsh, meadow, woods, a pond, and a spring-fed creek. Wisely, teachers have chosen to take advantage of these settings to lead students outside the classroom for frequent hands-on science lessons that value their site-specific resources. All-school themes on birds, trees, and the watershed tie the pieces together across the fall-term curriculum. "Take lessons on birds, for example," says Dottie Baumgarten, an Oak Lane science teacher. "Our campus has many bird species and habitats, so the children investigate what birds prefer and observe behavior. They learn about different kinds of bird feed and bird feeders by watching and recording what is around us. The students see how squirrels respond to these resources. And they learn about the cycles of life and death when we find feathers, too. In every grade, students like to get their hands on what we study. As a school, we value that kind of learning. We generally have a 'no video' policy. 'Doing' is more age-appropriate than watching a screen."

Rediscovering the Outdoors in Albuquerque

In many ways, Albuquerque Academy (New Mexico) picks up where Oak Lane leaves off. Like leaders with similar programs (many of which began in the early 1970s as Americans rediscovered hiking and camping), one goal for Jess Barrie, chair of Albuquerque's Experiential Education Department, is to "get students comfortable with being outdoors. Our program reconnects them with nature and lets them be kids. From building a fort to playing in a stream, we are acting on the ideas Richard Louv outlines in his book, Last Child in the Woods." The course of study requires regular outdoor experiences for students in grades six through nine under the supervision of six full-time experiential education faculty members. From day hikes to overnight camping trips on the school's wilderness property in the Sandia Mountains to week-long mini-courses and, later, remote backpacking experiences, students progress through a sequenced and developmentally appropriate program integrated into the fabric of the school. "We want to make the environment practical and personal for students," Barrie remarks. "Even if Ex Ed [Experiential Education] is their only outdoor experience, they make different peer connections, appreciate the wilderness of New Mexico, and begin to think about sustainability through a positive and personal experience with nature." Such outdoor experiences are familiar to many independent schools, and they represent a branch of experiential education that is vitally important as environmental sustainability becomes an issue of global concern.

Selling Eggs at Lamplighter

Adapting the practices and structure of these experiential programs allows the teaching and learning they represent to become integrated into curricula in a variety of meaningful, often interdisciplinary ways. Take the example of The Lamplighter School (Texas), a PK–4 school of 450 students. Since 1970, fourth graders have run an egg company, Lamplight Layers, Inc., that teaches business fundamentals. According to program sponsor Kathey Beddow, "the program encompasses more than counting eggs and projecting sales. It's interdisciplinary, with art, politics (all students must run for an office; some lose!), math, ethics, sociology, and philanthropy." Officers are elected, stock is issued, profit and loss reports are kept, and meetings are conducted using Robert's Rules of Order. As chicks mature over summer vacation, students learn to feed, water, and clean up after their brood. Once the hens begin to produce, eggs are gathered, washed, and weighed, prices are set, and eggs are then brought to market (the Friday carpool line) for sale. Fourth grader Philip S., this year's president, describes the program from his perspective, "We go to the barn and we each have our own jobs: egg collector, egg washer, chicken feeder. Instead of sitting and listening, each crew has lots of fun and time to talk to their friends. Lamplight Layers is why I like the school. I like running the business meetings and I like picking up the eggs."

At year's end, the books are audited, and, depending on how much stock students purchased and how well the chickens did, students might receive stock dividends of $10–$25. In recent years, children have donated a portion of their profits to charity, expanding the relevance of the experiential process. In the end, the financial rewards are secondary to what children learn about working together toward common goals and their responsibility for other creatures. At Lamplighter, chickens and eggs help teach the lessons.

DEEP Learning at St. Matthew's

St. Matthew's Parish School (California), an institution that begins with preschool and culminates in eighth grade, offers the Diving Educational Enrichment Program (DEEP), to bring experiential education and interdisciplinary studies to another level. DEEP began in 1992 with teachers Bruce Harlan and Bobbie McCuskey. They wanted to move beyond simple hands-on learning and literally immerse their students in scientific and mathematical concepts. Like all good experiential models, DEEP isn't about the means — in this case, SCUBA diving. It's about the larger concepts and intellectual underpinnings. Harlan knew that some of the most powerful learning happens when the students' own curiosity and passion drives the experience. "DEEP is the best thing I do in teaching," remarks Harlan. As a spring term experience, it's something to which students look forward. Students study diving physics, applied mathematics, diving physiology, experimental design, and web publication. The students develop new projects every year, and, because they can see the work of former students on the web, they often build new queries from that work. "That's the way real science works. The students are proud of their work. The program challenges them and we really push them," Harlan reports. Even though students do complete SCUBA classroom instruction and several dives, Harlan says that they "care more about the quality of work than another chance to dive. This year, my classroom is full of power tools and soldering irons." That's because students became excited about underwater engineering, so they felt compelled to take their concepts from design to reality.

Kent Denver's Credit Union

The 36 students who make up the staff of Westerra Credit Union's branch at Kent Denver School (Colorado) know something about taking on a challenge. With more than $1.5 million under management, students have significant, real financial responsibilities: they make the major decisions, run the teller services, participate in federal audits, and approve loans and debit cards for members of the school's extended community. Teacher and program founder Donna Duvall-Serrano says, "I'm interested in practical mathematics: how students can use concepts, how I can make it real. Whether or not they work at the credit union, students in the school experience budgeting and keep savings and checking accounts. They learn about debit cards and interest. They graduate with real-world learning and financial experience… even the girl who came crying to me when she bounced a check. 'But I still have checks in my checkbook!' she explained. I had to go back to the basics with her."

"Our campus has many bird species and habitats, so the children investigate what birds prefer and observe behavior."

Student officers and a committee structure perpetuate the work of the credit union and have made it an active presence in the life of the school for 25 years. David H., a senior and credit union president, speaks with ease about FICO scores and approving car loans as well as the challenges of getting teenagers interested in financial topics. "Kids control their accounts. They manage the money themselves without their parents. Sometimes they mismanage their assets, like when they withdraw $10 every day to go out to lunch. Sometimes they get charged fees." The credit union provides the kind of lessons that are some of the most valuable and memorable student experiences at the school. The combination of applied experience and real responsibility fulfills age-appropriate needs and provides students with authentic challenges and the kinds of skills that independent schools say matter.

Global Service Learning at Shady Side

Global events, both positive and negative, have awakened us to the reality that the world is a smaller place, that schools and our students must grapple with what that means, and that none of us live in isolation. Whether through global supply chains or web-based knowledge economies, study abroad programs or exchange relationships, we are more aware of the connections between distance places and people. Hannah F. of Shady Side Academy (Pennsylvania) explored that firsthand when she traveled to Jakarta, Indonesia, this past summer as one of a dozen rising juniors and seniors who were awarded Parkin Fellowship global service grants by the school. Hannah says, "I volunteered at Yayasan Balita Sehat, the Foundation for Mother and Child Health, working primarily with nine Muslim women and one man, drawing posters to educate illiterate mothers, and preparing and serving food for malnourished children. I spent the afternoons at Yayasan Bhakti Luhur, an orphanage for mentally-disabled children run by Catholic sisters." About her fellowship Hannah says, "My experience taught me so much, in particular, that differences and uniqueness are beautiful and beneficial and allow people to learn and grow from each other. I experienced great love and friendship with people of a completely different culture — specifically one of a Muslim-majority nation. It also revealed to me one worldwide commonality: we are human beings who are made to connect and love each other, no matter what our race, culture, religion, or language."

That commonality, expressed in the idealistic words of a high school senior, may well be the raison d'etre for the diverse and growing number of independent school experiential education programs. Such programs are time- and people-intensive. The experiences are highly individualized. The impact cannot be mandated by legislation or measured by standardized examinations. Well beyond teaching to tests, experiential programs represent capstone experiences. They connect the hands, hearts, and minds of students to a world that simultaneously needs them and teaches them.

Jeremy Leeds is a member of the board of the National Society for Experiential Education, its 2006 Leader of the Year honoree, and director of the Center for Community Values and Action at Horace Mann School (New York). Leeds believes at least three things come from experiential programming: a deeper understanding of the interdependence between schools and the wider world, civic engagement that builds the skills and competencies needed for a democratic society, and an ability to reflect on educational goals and the qualities we want to develop in students. "Why the growth of experiential programs? We're at a time of opportunity in American educational history. We need to consider why we're doing what we're doing and how we would like education to affect the students we nurture. Are our institutions promoting the values we say we believe in?" Horace Mann School, for example, has recently developed important initiatives in service learning and connecting with the people, issues, and communities around the school. "If we do not connect with different neighborhoods around our schools, for example," Leeds observes, echoing the thoughts of John Dewey, "our students lose out and democracy loses out."

In the wider picture, Leeds believes that education generally, and experiential education specifically, can take much larger steps toward real growth and change. "What education could be has been limited by what people believe is at stake. Testing, college admissions, and the general business of schools can take us away from thinking about what we're doing," says Leeds. "Education that feels connected to how we should live — that's essential to good experiential education. The most common criticism experiential education has taken over the years — that it is watered down — is unfounded. It is a challenge to connect experience to reflection and learning, but it can be done.

"Twenty years from now, what will students rely on in their lives?" asks Leeds. "When students reflect on their education, it is often their memories from service learning, outdoor education, and other experiential programs that they remember first, even with all the great curricula we have."

Thirty years ago, experiential education meant a day on a ropes course, a weekend foray to Williamsburg, perhaps a spring break trip abroad. Today, curricular change and a better understanding of how students learn have broadened the definition of experiential education. If experiential education is applied learning that takes students from theory to practice, moving both students and teachers beyond books and giving them "direct contact" with a topic or field of study, then more and more NAIS schools provide such opportunities. And rather than provide a battleground for those who might argue that students need a solid foundation in the basics, experiential education programs at many schools challenge students who yearn to test what they have mastered in theory and discover whether it makes sense in the world around them. For those among us who value the trivium and quadrivium — the classical underpinnings of the liberal arts — the rise of experiential education cannot be so much a crumbling of tradition at the expense of vocationalism as it must be a way to see how our students might live out the social and ethical ideals we have hoped to inculcate.

David W. Liebmann is executive director of the Hillman Center for Performing Arts and director of programs at Shady Side Academy (Pennsylvania).