You Can Learn Anything from Everything

Like many people, I enjoy a good podcast.  I was listening to Tetragrammaton the other night, and the guest was Pulitzer Prize-winning author and playwright David Mamet. During the interview, Mamet referenced his novel, "Recollections of St. Ives." More specifically, he spoke about one of his characters, Mr. Ruskin, a teacher, who suggests an innovative way of teaching history by giving students a few dollars and sending them to a vintage store to buy an item, then having them return to class and do a "show and tell" about it. You can imagine how this could work. An old comic book or teacup becomes a glimpse into a certain period, tradition, economy, aesthetic, or culture. And it comes from something “real” as opposed to coming from a textbook or a screen.

This got me thinking about the magic of "show and tell" and how everyday artifacts are also wonderful stories and lessons.  

Imagine you are in elementary school, and you are sitting at your desk working on an assignment. The teacher says to you, "Ok everyone, please stop working on your math for a moment. I want you to take your pencil, hold it in your hand, and really look at it carefully. Observe it like a scientist might. Note the materials, shape, and colour.” 

"Now I want you to imagine you are responsible for building one from scratch. What would you do?  What questions do you have? Think deeply now. Over the coming weeks we are going to try an experiment. We are going to spend time learning important lessons from the everyday objects around us. A coffee mug, a shoelace. I want us to imagine that every object you see, even the stapler on my desk, has something important to teach us. We can start by asking very basic questions: Where did this come from? How did it get here? Who made it?” 

I suspect that you can already see how one question will lead to another and another, like a chain reaction. As the students and teacher find the answers together, it seems likely that some very deep learning will happen. 
Now back to the pencil.  

What kind of tree gave its wood? Where did that tree grow? What kind of ecosystem did it belong to, and how did logging practices affect it? What's the story of the sawmill that shaped the wood? Who designed the machines used in that mill? What fuels them? What is a supply chain, and how does a forest become stationery? 

Now, look at the tip. Graphite. But not lead, though that's what we still call it. Why? What was once misunderstood about this material? How is graphite mined? Who mines it, and under what conditions? How has the material shaped war, art, or science? 

That little metal band is called a ferrule. What is it made from? Aluminum? Brass? How is it manufactured, and why is it crimped just so? What makes it stay on? 

And the eraser?  Is it rubber?  Is it natural or synthetic? Where does rubber come from anyway? What are its chemical properties? Who invented the eraser? How has its formulation changed over time? And why are pencils yellow anyway?  

You get the point (no pun intended). A pencil is not just a pencil. It is an artifact. It is the convergence of botany, geology, chemistry, engineering, history, economics, sociology, and art. So many subjects and potential lessons arise from daring to be curious about this one thing.   

So the next time you're looking to have or to provide a powerful learning experience, you might consider listening to a podcast. Or you might simply look around. Pick something. Anything. A key, a leaf, a receipt, a coin. Ask a question. Then another. Let one thread pull you toward the next.  Let your curiosity guide you.  You can learn anything from everything. 

Sean Nosek  
Superintendent/CEO