The forest and the classroom

In a gathering of adults training to be facilitators, there was an invitation to reflect upon and share a memory of a moment when they experienced learning something. Among the many sharings, the following situations were included.

While baking a cake with an aunt, when on a bird walk a bird was identified by its call, when being trained by a coach in swimming lessons, while shopping with a parent, and so on.

It didn’t go unnoticed that none of the examples stemmed from a classroom environment. Surely, this small group wasn’t a conclusive reflection of classroom environments. What it was, however, was an insight into the settings within which learning is enabled.

If an experience supports an expansion of our understanding of the world or ourselves, there exists a potential for learning. Further, rooting that experience in the lived context of the learner can have a much more long-lasting impression of learning than attempting to transfer that learning in a disconnected setting.

Learning of a bird one can hear and see in one’s surroundings could open pathways to interest and inquiry into understanding the world of birds at large. This process is much deeper compared to studying enigmatic bird species from a book, with no true connections to one’s environment.

How might we begin to look at an entire curriculum from the perspective of introducing a learning experience from the lived context? In the process, we also need to figure out the contours of journeys in understanding what’s beyond our local environment.

This was our guiding thought, as we worked on building a ‘Biodiversity Curriculum’ with a team of educators from the villages of Kanha, Madhya Pradesh, as part of our work with Earth Focus Foundation. The children we were designing for went to government schools and came from Adivasi (Gond and Baiga) communities.

The jungles of Kanha are these children’s homes. The forest ecosystem is an integral part of their livelihood and culture. And yet, this integration seemed to be thinning among the children. This has been a result of them spending more time within walled classrooms. This keeps them away from everyday activities that could connect them to the forest.

Along the way, we spoke to families, village elders, and children. As we did this, we found ways in which the forest could be brought back into the conversation where learning and education are concerned.

Activities for play and learning, from the ecological context of the Kanha landscape

Foraging and the food ecology: Foraging and food ecology are not just survival skills for families around Kanha. These are deeply woven into their cultural and environmental identity. During the monsoon season, for instance, families venture into the forest to collect wild mushrooms and leafy greens like bhaji and to fish. This practice offers a rich nutritional bowl. It also serves as an educational resource.

In contrast to the uniform, often unseasonable produce found in markets, the forest requires a nuanced understanding of what is safe to eat. The community’s knowledge is passed down through the generations. This includes knowing which mushrooms and leaves are edible, which fish is suitable to consume and during which season, and how to prepare and process the produce.

In our curriculum, we leverage this traditional practice of foraging to teach children vital concepts. As they participate in these activities, they learn to identify shapes, sizes, patterns and colours. In the process they gain hands-on experience within the natural world. This approach allows children to understand seasons, decomposition, and the life cycles of plants growing near decaying leaves or wood.

Women and children often forage together. They observe insects, flowers, saplings, birds, and occasionally even tigers. These experiences nurture curiosity and creativity. These transform the forest into a living classroom. Here learning happens naturally and meaningfully.

Medicinal connection to nature: The communities around Kanha possess a deeprooted knowledge of traditional medicinal plants. This is a legacy that has been passed down ancestrally. This expertise enables them to identify trees, plants, herbs, and their various medicinal uses, often without reliance on doctors, hospitals or pharmacists.

Their intimate understanding of the forest is profound. They can easily name trees, recognize their fruits, and recall their seasons and uses with just a glance. This knowledge naturally sparks curiosity, especially about how these communities first discovered that a particular part of a plant could cure or treat an ailment.

To harness this rich knowledge in our curriculum, we incorporated it into lessons that connect to biological and botanical studies. For instance, in a lesson centred around the mahua tree—a plant of immense significance to these communities—we explored its multiple roles as a source of food, spiritual symbol, and medicinal resource. By using the mahua tree as a focal point, we taught students about the different parts of a tree, how trees grow, and their crucial role in maintaining ecological balance.

We also introduced concepts like photosynthesis and interdependence within ecosystems through this familiar context. This approach made the lessons more relatable and engaging for the students. It also allowed them to apply their traditional knowledge in a structured learning environment. This process helped to deepen their understanding of both the natural world and of scientific principles.

Play and games: Incorporating children’s natural play into the biodiversity curriculum goes beyond simply observing their interactions with nature. For example, we often observe children using Jatropha leaves and the sap within to make bubbles. We then invite them to explore the different types of plants and the unique properties they possess. Are other leaves and plant sap capable of the same? Why not?

It becomes an opportunity to observe variety in plants, leaves, stem structures, and even the biological functions of various plants. We link their play with structured learning. Thereby we ensure that their innate curiosity about nature translates into a deeper comprehension of ecological principles and plant biology.

Soil as a living thing: In Kanha, soil is more than just the ground beneath our feet. It is a vital resource for daily life. The locals build their homes, create smooth and clean floors, and even craft the plates (kawelu) on their roofs from soil.

In our lesson ‘Exploring soil’, we introduced children to the concept of soil, its formation, composition, minerals, colour, texture and profile. We discussed the various types of soil found in different regions of Kanha. We then connected it to the soils of Central India and across the country, to show how soil types vary.

In conversations with children, we came upon the question – “Is soil a living or a non-living thing?” Some believed that it was living, because it absorbs water (drinking), forms new soil (reproducing), and anchors trees to prevent erosion (holding). Others thought it was non-living, because it didn’t speak or play with them like their mates.

The answers opened up further learning opportunities. These related to the characteristics of living and non-living beings, soil’s water-holding capacity, soil formation, and soil erosion and methods to prevent it. All of this made the lesson both relatable and expansive.

Seasonal practices and children’s presence in classrooms

During the ropa (paddy cultivation) and mahua seasons, children’s participation in and around the fields is truly remarkable. The older children actively plant and care for the rice paddies and gather mahua flowers. The younger children contribute in other vital ways. They assist by cleaning the home. They prepare the utensils for cooking when their parents return from the fields. They also take the cattle out to graze in the open fields.

This involvement goes beyond mere chores. It is a crucial part of their family’s agricultural lifestyle. This offers valuable learning experiences. Through their tasks, younger children gain a sense of responsibility. They also feel a connection to their community’s traditions and the natural world. By participating in these seasonal activities, children learn about storage and processing of plant produce, plant life cycles, water management, and soil health. They also gain understanding of the significance of sustainable farming practices.

Contextual education, then, also means that children’s absence from schools during these seasons is accounted for. It isn’t that learning is absent if the child is absent from the classroom. This approach, however, still has a long way to go.

Challenges while building a context-based curriculum

Limited documentation of knowledge in local languages is a challenge. There are high-quality resources on the internet, both audio-visual and textual, which are relevant to the forest ecosystem we are working within. However, these are primarily in English. This is a language that is in most cases the third language of, and most often incomprehensible to, the communities we work with.

These resources are conceptually relevant to the landscape. However, these aren’t created within here. Therefore, these can be disconnected in terms of the perspective on offer and the visuals. We are seeing an attempt to bridge this gap with content from organizations such as RoundGlass Sustain. There is a dire need for an expansive library that addresses this resource scarcity, and in the native languages of the land.

The intersection of folklore, myths and science needs to be trodden on with sensitivity. One of the stories we came by was of the flower of a fig tree. The belief is that no one has truly seen the flower of a dumar, a fig-tree. It is only on a rare occasion when lightning and darkness meet that a fig-tree’s flower gently falls from the tree. And if you happen to be there, you’ll be lucky to see it.

On exploring the fruit of a fig-tree, opening it to see the flowers within and finding that they are quite unlike the prototypical flower, the community wasn’t easily convinced. Their curiosity peaked and it opened up several conversations on what a flower truly is, the structure of a flower, etc.

Another such intersection happened while discussing snakes, venom, snakebites and their treatment. Most individuals believed several non-venomous snakes to not be so, including a bronze-back tree snake. This meant that very often an encounter with a snake resulted in it being killed. And further, any snakebite was first and in many cases only treated by a local practitioner. They would use mantras, immobilize the patient, and suck out the venom from the bite, etc. This continues to be an area of conversation and negotiation between new knowledge and old practices.

The risk of equating context-based to ‘only local’ is an easy one to fall prey to. In being context-based with our content and pedagogy, we ensure that what we take to the classroom doesn’t alienate the learners. It engages with their lived reality, culture and knowledge systems. This, however, doesn’t imply that we don’t take to the classroom what is beyond the context of the learner.

Sure, we won’t be introducing ‘g for giraffe’. However, we will talk of giraffes where the conversation allows it. It is vital to do so even. This helps in ensuring that the children aren’t restricted to their immediate reality in today’s globally informed knowledge systems.

Integrating the ecological context into education is not just about making learning relevant. It is about rooting education in the children’s lived experiences. And then one must move in breadth and expanse to integrate global knowledges. This approach has the power to make education more meaningful, fostering a deep relationship and connection to the environment and community. It can also help prepare children to engage with the broader world.

As we continue to develop and refine this curriculum, we remain committed to bridging the gap between the classroom and the forest. We try to ensure that learning remains a natural and integral part of the child’s life.

While our curriculum is being developed in the Kanha landscape, it can quite easily be made meaningful for other forest landscapes with some contextual integrations relevant to the local ecology. The hope is to nurture and strengthen their innate and cultural love and connection for the natural world and encourage its preservation and protection for the time to come.