Designing a More Hopeful Future: Starting with How we Educate our Children

For years, dropping off my child at daycare was an experience so extreme that when I’d arrive at work an hour later, I wouldn’t be able to speak for at least another two. Every morning my daughter would cling to me so violently that it took two child care workers what felt like an hour, to pull her from me. As I’d I walk away covered in both our tears, I’d think “This is madness.”

What was clear to me in those moments, as a solo parent of an adopted child working full-time outside the home, is even more clear now. What our society prioritizes, damages us all. In particular, full-time work and institutional education are both so rigidly prescribed, that they make little sense in a world of increasing complexity, particularly in a post-pandemic one.

I’ve continuously grappled with how to change this reality. From returning to work part-time to sharing a nanny with neighbours, none of it has been sustainable. And so, I resigned myself to making do, until my kids are older, until I can semi-retire, until, until, until…finally a reprieve. Just as the pandemic has surfaced disturbing truths about our world, it has also imposed a pause that affords many of us, for the first time, the space to not just reimagine alternatives, but to actively work on implementing them.

As we begin to re-open our province, the question of what school will look like is critical to determining what employment looks like. After months of online schooling, social isolation and physical distancing, most parents and teachers I’ve spoken to agree that moving this model to a physical building is moving in the wrong direction. We can do better to address the anxiety, stress and loss that many of our children are already struggling with.

Luckily the answers are right in front of us. From a virus transmission perspective, we know that outdoor spaces are safer than indoor ones. We know that small social bubbles, whose members are vigilant about public health precautions are also less risky. We also know that nature is an antidote to both physical and mental illness. We know that we need to meaningfully reconnect with the earth if we want to have any chance of remaining here. We know that children are more creative, empathetic, and collaborative when playing in mixed aged groups. We know that more than any other factor, longevity depends on the depth of our social connections.

This is good news for the future of education. Combining existing models such as outdoor eco schools, skills-based schools, and cooperative homeschools with small tightly knit family groups, augmented as necessary with online resources could be a powerful and hopeful force for change in other arenas.

While the details will no doubt require refinement, each co-op school could have between 3 and 5 families aligned on values and priorities, whose parents would teach for 4-6 hours per week. Subjects could include connection to the earth, community building, activism, resilience, and homesteading and learning could take place year-round, in a variety of outdoor settings including parks, ravines, forests and backyards.

The implications of this model on work are considerable. Solo parents would need to work less than full-time or cram more hours into fewer days. Two-parent families may have more flexibility, but would likely still need to cut working hours. And while at first pass, this might seem like a non-starter, what if it wasn’t? As a society we’re recognizing that slowing down isn’t just nice, its critical to our survival. The ideas are not new. Shorter work weeks and work days along with universal basic income have all demonstrated a return on investment in terms of health system utilization along with improvements in mental and planetary health.

If collectively we’re willing to shut down our entire planet in the name of health, shouldn’t what really matters to health – physical, mental and spiritual health, be prioritized when re-opening it?