The Serendipity!

Last summer I read a book about schools in Finland and the ways they foster growth in their students. One strategy that inspired me most was their deliberate attempt to connect students to the natural world through lots of learning outside, including nature walks, school gardens and a whole cache of field trips. I immediately began considering ways I could meaningfully connect my students to nature in our fifty-four minute class period.  An idea revealed itself one day when my dad was getting rid of a few shepherd hooks and gifted one to me.  That shepherd hook clunking around in the trunk of my car inspired me to consider hanging a bird feeder outside the window of our classroom. 

Now my school sits on a fairly barren plot of land.  This is something I hadn’t fully considered before setting up the shepherd’s hook, hanging the bird feeder, and filling it with seed.  Of course, the kids noticed the cute little feeder swinging in the winter wind outside our classroom window on the Monday morning following its arrival and asked, “Who put up that feeder?”  “Why did you put up a bird feeder?” and finally, “Have you seen any birds at the feeder?”  I answered their barrage of questions and began worrying aloud, “I’m starting to wonder if any birds will even know to come to this spot.”  I continued slowly, considering how I could still engage students in this noticing of the outside world in the face of possibly having no bird visitors, “If someone happens to spot a bird at the feeder, be sure to alert us by saying ‘bird.’  That way none of us will miss it!”   Suffice it to say, we have yet to see a bird at our feeder, but it has provided much joy to our 7th grade classroom nonetheless as every once in a while some wisecracking 7th grader will call out, “Mrs. Laaksonen!  Bird!”  The first time I rushed to the window.  Now I look at the children first–their smirks give them away every time.  

As time went on, all of this fun-loving teasing led me to buy a snowball maker that shapes snow into the form of a bird.  My plan was to have my morning classes create these special birds shaped out of snow to place all around the bird feeder.  There REALLY would be “birds” at our feeder, for once.  A whole flock of “snow birds.”  My students in the morning loved the idea of being part of our practical joke on the afternoon classes, and some couldn’t wait to go outside to make the birds.  We had just one problem- the weather had to cooperate.  It has been an unusual winter in Michigan as we keep getting snow followed by rain that then takes away all our possibilities.  We then had a warm spell which nearly put our entire plan to rest.  But, at last, one night snow fell, and it stayed.  

When the students came in the morning following, most were grousing about the fact our district hadn’t called a Snow Day.  They had forgotten all about making snow-shaped birds, and, honestly, so had I.  One young lady seated right up front said to me before the first bell rang, “I’m having a really bad day.”  I teased, “It’s kinda early for it to be REALLY bad.”  She didn’t smile as I expected, but instead got out of her seat to get closer and said softly as her eyes filled with tears, “My parents just told me they’re getting divorced.”  I first hugged her and then tried to comfort her by saying all the things I wish someone had said to me when my family broke apart.  It only seemed to make her cry harder for a bit, and then her friend who had been quietly watching on the sidelines asked, “Can she and I go make the snow birds now?”  I looked to my sweet, heartbroken girl, who had started to laugh at her friend’s irreverence while wiping the tears away, and I replied, “You girls should definitely go do that!”  They grabbed the snow bird maker and off they went. 

Sometimes in teaching nothing goes as planned, but maybe it goes just the way it was meant to.  I bet it happens that way in Finland, too.