Outdoor Education, or On Sixth Graders

I spent the first part of my week chaperoning my son’s sixth grade Outdoor Education field trip. For those unfamiliar with the concept, it involves spending a couple nights at a YMCA summer camp (Camp Letts) while students engage in activities tied to their science curriculum. In our case, it means learning more about the Chesapeake Bay watershed, as our camp sat on a peninsula surrounded by the Rhode River on one side and the Bay on the other.

While the activities were various degrees of engaging, what struck me the most was seeing how the students – most 12 years old and on the precipice of full teenagerdom – interacted with teachers, parents, and each other. As I observed varying degrees of maturity and autonomy, a few observations stuck with me:

• You can tell who has been given more independence, and who hasn’t. Kids who’d been given more independence not only demonstrated better behavior but navigated their new surroundings more comfortably. Kids who’ve not yet been afforded those opportunities, by contrast, needed more prodding to get from point to point, and were more likely to use colorful language as a means of expressing “independence” away from home. Because who doesn’t love gratuitous cursing!

• There is a difference between complaining and commiserating. Our dining hall table quickly realized the food situation was, to be generous, awful. But instead of not eating what was offered they chose instead to joke about the 98% dough pizza, canned cat food chicken fajitas, and other lacking offerings while muscling it down. After all, food waste was being tracked as part of the trip and our table didn’t want to waste anything. Seeing an esprit de corps form around the shared suffering reminded me of times with coworkers where, when a task was especially crummy, we’d lean on each other to joke our way through it together.

• Effort and enjoyment are not the same thing. One activity involved standing on a floating dock and counting the spat (baby oysters) on recycled oyster shells – all in a stiff breeze late in the day. I can tell you not one student loved being out on that dock, but they still focused on the task and reported their findings back to the instructor leading the group. Seeing the ability of sixth graders to still execute a task they didn’t love, in conditions they didn’t love, without complaining (too much) was a good reminder as an adult that I can be more mindful the next time I’m tasked with something I’d rather not be doing.

• Someone’s “mid” activity is someone else’s best day ever. While most of our cabin found the trip OK, one student reported that the two days at camp were the best time they’d ever had. When we’re in groups or teams, strength comes not from everyone having the same worldview or preferences, but from each of us having a diverse perspective. Had everyone in our cabin felt the same about the trip, I would have left feeling that my time was not valued as a volunteer – but knowing that for even one student the experience was meaningful helped me appreciate what my contribution of time meant to others.

So how does this come back to how we, as working adults, engage with our work and coworkers? It comes down to the four lead sentences:

• You can tell who has been given more independence, and who hasn’t.

• There is a difference between complaining and commiserating.

• Effort and enjoyment are not the same thing.

• Someone’s “mid” activity is someone else’s best day ever.

People operate differently when they have latitude to solve problems on their own versus being micromanaged in the single direction their manager has in mind, and each approach affects development and morale. Independence and ownership of a task creates motivated and engaged employees, and in the long run leads to a greater willingness to take on challenges outside their core activities.

It matters how we express dissatisfaction around a task, and the ability of shared recognition about a task’s menial nature to be unifying. Conversely, knowing when a complaint is substantive also helps us to know when we’re deploying people’s talents poorly, or framing tasks in ways that aren’t helpful to those being asked to take on said tasks.

The ability to apply oneself – especially when the task at hand is dull, or unsatisfying, or something we’d rather not be doing – is a gift we don’t always recognize or reward. When we ask others to take on tasks we know they’d rather not do, and they give best effort anyways, the feedback loop is vitally important.

And lastly, not everything we do will be the BEST THING EVER, and that’s entirely OK. But just because we feel down about something, that doesn’t mean it isn’t fulfilling or meaningful to someone else, and we need to be mindful of that in our tone, language, and approach.

One final note on the grace and professionalism of teachers. Every day, these people work diligently to help develop and uplift our children in ways we may not see as parents. While I’ve always appreciated the work of teachers (and my best friend from college is a teacher), seeing them work up close with students at a very critical developmental juncture reinforced my feelings about these exceptional people. We simply need to place more value, pay, and resources into our teachers because they give so much to our society.