Learning Spaces and Pedagogy: The Challenges and Joys of Field-Based Teaching
As anyone who has led small group discussions in a large auditorium with immovable single seats can attest, the physical space that we teach in affects our pedagogy. The teaching space can also set expectations for our students, for example “this is a lecture hall where it is difficult to hear if multiple people speak; I will be listening but not interacting,” or “this is a small table and chair set-up, we will be having discussions in this class.” Being placed in a room that doesn’t fit your teaching design can put a massive wrench in your plans – try doing a jigsaw activity or rotating discussions in a large auditorium with everyone’s laptops open, and you have a tripping hazard at best and broken laptops at worst. Being able to move tables and chairs is important for some class types, and the ability to create a round-table or talking circle can benefit engagement and support culturally responsive pedagogy. Space (and the abundance and placement of power outlets) matters in teaching. But how does this translate to field or outdoor elements? Given an open, grassy lawn with no structure, how does this all work?
Field courses are some of my favourite classes to teach, and not only for the reasons you may think. Sure, being outside is a bonus, but the challenges of long, hot days, close quarters, and a logistics list a mile long are more than compensated for by the value of the student experience. I have taught second year, third year, fourth year, and graduate level field courses, and it’s the student feedback that keeps me coming back for more. Before I wax poetic about all the benefits, it is important to acknowledge challenges.
Challenges (an incomplete list):
Accessibility. Aside from some exciting drone-based work to include those students who cannot be physically present (see for example the Belonging in Field Education discussions series by GeoSpace), low tech/low budget limitations mean that the far reaches and steep terrain that can sometimes accompany fieldwork make it inaccessible to some students, TAs, and Faculty.
Inclusion. Not all students are comfortable outdoors. There is a sliding scale for adjustment here, with local daytrips being on the easier side, a fixed field station with indoor plumbing in the middle, and backwoods tent camping on the further end, but we need to recognize, respect, and acknowledge that students may not come with outdoor skills or knowledge. Detailed gear lists that make no assumptions about knowledge (good) or providing clothing and equipment directly to students (better), are good starts but it is also important to address uncertainty and fears in a value-neutral way and provide clear descriptions of what students can expect (weather, biting insects, heat, etc.).
Cost. Field-based courses typically cost the university more than a typical course and so require Departmental support. They also often have an ancillary fee for students for the portion of costs that the University will not cover. In the absence of needs-based bursaries, this additional cost makes field courses inaccessible for some students.
Logistics. The upfront logistic investment for a field-based course is extremely heavy. Accommodation, transport, gear lists, first aid considerations, food preferences/allergies, instruction sheets, the list can feel endless.
Harmony. After a long day in close quarters, especially layering on heat, insect bites, and maybe a leaky air mattress, group harmony is an element that requires attention. Co-creating a group charter, encouraging breaks and adequate nutrition and hydration, and leaving time and space to ‘decompress’ away from the group can all help with this.
So, what makes field-based courses worth navigating these challenges? The students. Students regularly cite their field-based classes as the highlight of their university program, unique in the hands-on, dynamic approach to teaching and engagement. Experiential learning to the extreme, field-based courses offer students a break from the traditional classroom, and often a more inclusive and supportive learning environment. Frequent, easy access to the teaching team and their fellow students means that questions arise organically and can be explored in situ (bonus: no emails!). Because no one is an expert on everything (there are just too many lichens, apologies to my lichenologist colleagues), an “I don’t know” from the Professor becomes normalized, and the class can work as a team to evaluate, hypothesize, and investigate the unknowns. Neurodiverse learners often thrive in this environment, where opportunities for observation and inquiry abound and there is support for curiosity-led learning. Peer-to-peer teaching and learning are also key elements; students often develop a group identity and build robust positive relationships with their fellow students. The physical space is an inseparable part of this unique learning environment and can be quite transformative for students.
A collection of photographs from ENVI 5005, a 2022 field-based learning course showing students engaged in water sampling, microscope work, plant and moth identification, transect setting, and forest surveys.
A change of environment provides an opportunity for a change in the norms and expectations. The “students as sponges for knowledge” model cannot help but shift to collective learning, where the environment is both the setting and teacher. As an Instructor I can teach my students about insect ecology, but they become invested in the beings around them, their stories and life histories, with personal contact. Don’t care about moths? Wait until you see a hand-sized Luna moth for the first time. The questions, skills, and knowledge come alive with immersion, leaving aside the physical and mental benefits of outdoor spaces, mindfulness, and deep observation. Properly facilitated, using the outdoor environment as an educational space allows the course learning outcomes to come alive, and the assignments to take on deeper meaning. Students report feeling gratitude, fondness, and a deeper appreciation for the environment the more they are immersed in it (providing insect bites and human biological needs are well managed!), and opportunities to learn about Indigenous Knowledge, be it oral histories, ecology, or traditional uses for plants, are contextualized by the environment itself. For our field courses, we’ve been building a library that includes both Western Science and Mi'kmaq texts, including language, art, stories, and ecological works to encourage the Two Eyed Seeing approach. There is always more work to be done.
Does space matter for teaching? Absolutely. We can all adapt and work around poor classroom assignments, but having access to different physical spaces that support our pedagogy allows for the diversity of approaches that make our teaching and learning so rich.
Yours in teaching and learning,
Heather
Dr. Heather cray
Instructor, School for Resource and Environmental Studies