The School Without Walls

So the cold weather I encountered during my limited autumn engagement in Albany scared me out of plans to spend January in Amherst. Instead, I opted to stay in Florida for the month, and as I watch temperatures and wind chills drop across the midwest, east and south… well, I can’t help feel a bit smug. I’m sorry, but I’m just not in a position to acclimate myself to such weather. Of course, I’ll likely be knee deep in Colorado snow next month, but that’s another story altogether.

Here I am in Florida. I’ve kept busy, at least (what else is new?): visiting schools, meeting with likeminded people, arranging minor renovations to my mom’s new house, and applying for graduate school. While here in state I’m visiting 3 schools, formally: The School Without Walls (Live Oak), Spring Valley School (Palm Harbor), and Grassroots Free School (just outside Tallahassee).

In late December, just before the holiday break, I drove an hour and a half outside Gainesville into the farms around Live Oak to meet the students and staff of the School Without Walls. I should mention that this is not the only school with this name: another prominent educational alternative with the same name exists in Rochester, and there’s a public School Without Walls in Washington D.C. The school I headed to on that December morning is LITERALLY a School Without Walls: while the school maintains an address, there is NO SCHOOL BUILDING. Much of their work occurs on the ranch outside, or in a home setting with computers and a wireless network where students participate in online classes via Florida Virtual School. They also have an off-site community center for arts classes, and take trips to other spaces in the community to supplement their educational resources.

Here’s how I learned about them- back in May of 2008 I sent out this email to the AERO School Starters listserve:

“Hello, fellow school-starters and mentors,

I'm nearing the end of a very comfortable teaching job at an arts charter high school in South Florida, about to embark on a research mission to see how educational alternatives work so I can eventually start my own. On this dark and stormy night, after a string of ominous dreams, I'm trying to convince myself it is still a good idea.

My plan is to travel to as many different schools as possible, to volunteer for some length of time at most (3-6 months) and get a feel for the practical, day to day elements and obstacles. I am looking to open a school about 6 years from now. I'm selling my car, hoping to be able to rent/buy (and then donate) bikes and use public transportation in most of my destinations.

But I'm feeling a little apprehensive. For starters, it is the end of the school year, and in my reflections on this past year I can see very significant aspects of my teaching that deserve improvement. I'm concerned that the experience that I gain as I travel will likely not help me bridge this gap.

I'm also very intimidated by the wealth, breadth and depth of information on alternative education. I really want a world class understanding in the theory and background of various educational models before I make any grand gestures or conclusions, but I feel more than a little uncomfortable traversing this intellectual space with no guide (and, soon, no net).
Finally, I'm wary of the shallow network I currently have. It may be that I haven't taken full stock of my resources, or that I haven't reached out to enough schools (I'm trying to wait until at least June, so I can keep as much of my focus on this current school year as humanly possible), or that I'm just scared of leaving my lovely, loving community without a solid program to go to.
I've made a lot of planning progress in the last month, but I'm SO nervous! Any advice (sage or otherwise) is welcome.
Thanks, Casandra”

I received this reply a few days later:

“Hi Casandra
I would like to speak to you and would welcome your visit. Possibly you could come and experience our school and it would settle some of your fears. We started with no money. We do not have a building and yet we are thriving. There is so much more I could say but email it so limiting. If you would like call me at……
To Your Success,
Marianne”

I followed the links in the signature area of the email to a website about a school in Live Oak. At that time, my mom was still married, living in Tucson, with no plans to move to Gainesville and I was not planning to visit ANY of the known alternatives in Florida (which were, at that time: Spring Valley in Palm Harbor and the Grassroots Free School up in Tally). Why? Well: travelling around towns and small cities in Florida is rough. Public transit is virtually non-existent, and I’d need a car to really accomplish my goals in those areas. Also- I intended to spend the ENTIRE year outside Florida, for other reasons. So, while I deeply appreciated the email (and I think I sent a reply expressing as much), I didn’t commit to a visit then. Months later, of course, when I realized I’d be in Gainesville for a bit in the winter while helping my mom transition to a new house, I contacted Marianne.

As I turned onto the sprawling property, I was momentarily confused… I didn’t see any kids, any horses, just a house. Too timid to knock on the door, I decided to drive deeper into the property and see what I’d find. Sure enough, in a minute I came upon a rambunctious group of dogs and children who were waiting for me to arrive. I bounded out of the car to meet everyone, very excited about the dogs (I just love dogs). We exchanged names, pet the fur balls, and headed to a covered patio outside the house where a four year old promptly asked if I’d like any water to drink. Marianne and I started talking about the school: the inspiration, the rhythm of the day, educational opportunities in the world around us, the students and their histories. It was all very interesting, and then she said “well, you’ll see what we do. We’re going to take you out in the field so you can work with the horses, too. And then later, if you want to, we’ll go for a ride.”

WHAT?!

Ok, I was a little shocked. I knew that a big part of the mission of the school is training with horses, and I figured I’d watch the students work with the horses, but soon enough I was there in the field, carrot stick in hand, trying to get the appropriately named Joker to walk in a circle around me.

Now, I don’t DISLIKE horses. I like them, but I have never really been able to connect with a horse, or establish any sort of relationship with them. I’ve ridden horses before, very briefly- I just figured that there were some people in the world who are HORSE people, who love to ride, who love these animals dearly, and that I was just not one of those people.

Man, I wish I had remembered to take my camera out of the car. It was hysterical! Here I was, in a large sunny field, surrounded by young people who commanded their horses with virtuosic flair, and Joker just stood there as if daring me to actually communicate anything he’d be likely to understand. And really, that’s the key: communication. Horses are these big, muscular beasts. You have to use your whole body and summoned integrity to ‘speak’ to them. The students taught me A LOT out there, in the field, and it is truly inspiring to see them work with the animals. Much of their education is situated in the living, natural world around them: they have way more hands on knowledge of veterinary medicine and animal care at 9 and 10 years old than I ever will. And this is not any kind of elite riding academy- some students bring a tremendous amount of fear that the school community helps them overcome with regard to animals, particularly riding horses. Can you imagine what the world would be like if students were gently encouraged and kindly assisted to overcome their fears?!?!

We did go for a ride, but not before Marianne mentioned Wellington, and I discovered that her family actually lived for many years in Lake Worth: we have mutual friends. Pause and marvel at the profoundly intricate, beautiful webs we weave through our relationships!

So yeah- the school is a magical space. I’ll definitely return when I can.