Learning in the Dirt and Other Spanish Impressions

I’m back after three weeks in Spain.

While on the islands of Tenerife and Gran Canarias, I captured two stories that demonstrate the essence of what it means to embrace an “anytime/anywhere” learning focus.

I like to take urban hikes while on vacation, with rest stops at places where I can “people watch.” One of those places in the city of Santa Cruz on the island of Tenerife was the Plaza del Principe de Asturias, a historical park near the Santa Cruz Centro. It was there I happened upon a young Spanish boy, maybe six- or seven-years-old, playing in the dirt.

Now playing in the dirt used to be an accepted practice when it came to how kids spent time outside. I played in the dirt, with some of my closest playmates. I remember my mother helping me build a miniature town outside our house in the dirt. Mom and I collected twigs to use as electrical poles, with white string serving as the wires connecting electricity to my little town. I remember creating streets by smoothing the dirt, making two lane roads for my little Matchbox cars to move on. I remember cutting out and pasting cardboard houses and downtown buildings to create the places where imagined townspeople met and did business.

I thought about all this while I continued to watch the little Spaniard boy playing in his dirt, with only two or three sticks as his tools. It seemed like the little boy was content to use those tools to dig a hole while he moved the access dirt to the side to create a dirt mountain of sorts.

Several times a woman – it might have been his mother – came and encouraged the little boy to stop digging dirt and walk away with her. The little boy would have none of it. The little boy continued to be committed to digging and moving dirt. His work (or play) wasn’t finished yet.

One time another little boy came up and tried to take one of the tools. The dirt-digger responded by calling out “Basta!,” telling the other little boy to stop it. The other little boy walked away, and the dirt-digger continued his excavation.

I left for a while and then came back. The little dirt-digger was still there – playing with dirt.

I started to wonder how long this little excavator could continue. Turns out, he outlasted me as I headed on down the street.

As I walked, I thought about what learning occurred for that little boy while he was playing in the dirt. What questions did he ask himself? What imaginations consumed him? How long did “the dirt” occupy the young learner’s attention?

No cell phone, no social media, no artificial intelligence. Just a boy and his dirt.

A few days later I was on the Spanish island of Gran Canaria. There I came upon a group of early childhood learners exploring in a city park. These little ones were all over – touching, grabbing, looking, drawing, and thinking.

My wife told me she had seen the same group of the youngest learners on the beach back in February, exploring the sand and water with the same intensity as they investigated the park. They demonstrated inquisitiveness, creativity, and teamwork during their learning time together.

I wondered how many days this group of young learners worked together outside. They seemed totally at ease with learning outside a formal classroom inside a brick and mortar school. Their adult learning leaders were equally at ease facilitating their learning by asking questions, answering questions, and serving as support as these little learners worked on their personalized, authentic work.

How many learning opportunities do young learners lose when they are assigned to inside classrooms that are inside schools?

Why don’t we support learning anywhere and anytime? Why don’t we support learning that is individualized? Why don’t we work to build relationships that aid in the learning process? Why don’t we measure and reward growth in learning and not just achievement in learning?

Too many of us look at a boy playing with dirt and think “What a waste of time.” And too many of us look at a group of four- to five-year-olds on a beach or in a park and think “What a nice field trip.”

Maybe it’s time to reconsider and reframe what learning looks like and where it can happen.

It’s good to be back. Til tomorrow. SVB