I was on the phone when the small Melbourne earthquake hit last week. Mildly dramatic, a couple of things fell from my shelves and I quickly hung up the phone mid sentence! By the time I had raced downstairs, it was over. The various members of my locked-down family emerged from their respective zoom meetings and began feverish discussions in our hallway. What was that? Was that an earthquake? Are you OK? Do we get earthquakes here? What are you supposed to do in an earthquake? Do we stand in door frames or crouch under tables? Will there be aftershocks? How come the electricity has gone off? I wonder if it’s happened anywhere else? Where’s the dog? … If there had been a wonderwall in my hallway, it would have been covered in minutes!
Apart from the fact that it was strangely stimulating to be talking about something other than Covid19, the inquirer in me was most definitely activated. We had a bunch of questions and theories and through the day, we talked, read, viewed and listened. We were eager to find out more and clarify our thinking. (And before you say anything New Zealand, Japan, San Francisco … I know. We are all too aware it was nothing compared to what other places in the world experience!)
Had I been in the classroom the next day, I am pretty sure I know what we would have our spent time doing. The kids would have doubtless come in talking about the earthquake, sharing theories and of course asking questions – they would have been ripe for inquiry. What wonderful concepts we could have leaned into: form (the structure of the earth) causation, magnitude, measurement, location as well as concepts connected to human emotion and media coverage. A rich opportunity for inquiry indeed and one that actually links beautifully with elements of standards in our science and geography curriculum. No need for a manufactured provocation here. All that is needed is the permission to inquire and we are on our way.
The concept of ‘provocation’ is widely discussed in relation to inquiry. I have noticed an abundance of ideas being shared on social media. The word has become ubiquitous in some planning contexts (“we are just planning all our provocations for this next inquiry”). Ironically all this talk about provocations has provoked some change in my thinking and, as always, the best way I know to try to make sense of new thinking is to write about it.
Spending so much time at home, taking long walks through my surrounding environment, watching the view outside my window change each day has reminded me that our daily life experiences are already full of ‘provocations’ that get us thinking, questioning and wondering. It may not be as dramatic as an earthquake … it might be the conversation at the kitchen table that left you challenged, a new system for recycling bins that has the street up in arms, the appearance of a birds’ nest in a backyard tree, the observation of a single patch of dying grass along your local railway track or the intriguing design of the new playground across the street. These moments have relevance to my life and the life of my community and can set off a chain of questions grounded in an authentic and meaningful context.
A desire to investigate is most often driven by something that has made us curious- we inquire when we want to know more, solve a problem, improve something, understand something more deeply. And our inquiries often have the deepest impact when they enable us to make a positive difference to our lives and the lives of others. Of course, as teachers we can intentionally construct and share provocations with learners with the express purpose of cultivating this curiosity. I have designed many such experiences in the form of materials, objects and resources, using videos and images or conducting simulations. These deliberate ‘provocations’ have a place. However, as much as I am a huge champion of curiosity I am increasingly wary of experiences we design and construct for children that feel at times like we are coercing them into asking the questions we want to hear.
I was discussing this with my friend and colleague Shaz Bailey the other day and she pointed out that there can be a fine line between things we call ‘provocations’ (designed to stimulate curiosity) and the problematic idea of ‘front-loading’. I couldn’t agree more. Many of the things I see being used to activate an inquiry contain a lot of information and may be better used as a resource for investigation once children’s current theories, ideas, experiences and personal connections have been shared. In my experience, ‘front loading’ gets in the way of the rich information children reveal when we tune in to them rather than expecting them to tune into a text or experience right from the outset. As Sam Sherratt has said – the only thing we should be front loading is a washing machine.
Up until quite recently, I have occasionally planned ‘provocations’ designed to deliberately unsettle or create tension. You know the kind of thing – trashing the classroom as a provocation for an inquiry into caring for the environment or announcing something that has been banned as a precursor for an inquiry into fairness. I am feeling less and less comfortable with this as I reflect on issues of consent, authenticity agency and transparency. I still regard some simulations as potentially powerful opportunities for learning but I am more comfortable with them as a means of investigation (‘let’s see what we discover when we…’) rather than a covert provocation AND, even if it diminishes the potency of the experience, I think we owe it to kids to let them in on the fact that they are participating in a simulation. I have knowingly participated in simulations and still got caught up in the emotion and learned much from the debrief and discussion.
Bottom line, If we have to go to great lengths to ‘get them’ asking questions, perhaps this says something about the journey of inquiry we are planning in the first place? Does it feel forced? Are we manufacturing something that has no real connection to the children’s lives or the community around them? Are we getting caught up in our own excitement about a video/simulation/activity and losing sight of authentic connections? The best inquiries are perhaps those that need no manufactured provocation at all. I have seen some wonderful examples of this in the context of the pandemic which included Inquiries into the ways in which health messages are communicated, inquiries into what it means to be a healthy human, inquiries into the role of social media in influencing our decisions – and the way creativity and design can help us solve problems. All these inquiries were developed in response to the teachers’ recognition of what mattered to the children and of the power of authentic contexts for learning.
We inquire into things when we care about them. Perhaps a more authentic way to think about this is to turn our attention to what we are noticing about the children’s interests and what is already happening in the world around us and take it from there. Maybe the question is less ‘What provocation can we use?’ and more ‘what concepts are we inquiring into? What are we noticing about our children in relation to this? What might we shine a light on? How might we use this to invite children to share their own questions and theories?
Our daily lives are rich with provocations if we are awake to them. The child who walks into the classroom with their arm in a sling, the rush to the classroom windows during a sudden hailstorm, the eye-rolls you notice in response to never ending nagging about litter in the school yard, the birth of a baby sibling, the child that brings a nest they found out in the yard only to be berated by others for doing so…these moments offer a different kind of ‘provocation’ – one that has occurred at the speed of life. One that has its genesis in a moment brought to us from the children or from the world itself. I am in no way negating the power of materials in particular to activate wonder and thinking but there is perhaps a more nuanced dance between what we notice first, and what we then design/curate. Using materials in response to our noticing (and then to keep noticing) may be a more authentic way to think about the process.
We can’t go with every moment of wonder and nor does every moment lend itself to deep inquiry but as well as collecting, curating and sharing things you hope will activate curiosity, be similarly focussed on the curiosity that quietly emerges when you tune in to the world around you and encourage your children to do the same. Perhaps the only thing you need to plan to activate an inquiry- is to plan to observe more, listen more keenly and pay closer attention …
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Isn’t it fascinating when you notice shifts in your own thinking? I wonder how you interpret the idea of ‘provocations?’ This thinking is still unfolding for me but I would be interested to hear more …
A tree in my local neighbourhood, spotted on a recent walk. SO many wonderings … 🙂
Just wondering