Early STEM Skills at Free Forest School: How Nature Exploration is the Basis for Science Learning

By Carrie Leonard

Free Forest School of Halifax by Valerie White

When you are a kid, you are a born scientist. What does a scientist do? We look up and we say: I wonder what that is. Let me go and find out. Let me poke it. Let me turn it around. This is what kids do… they are exploring their environment through experimentation. – Neil DeGrasse Tyson

Open any teaching textbook, school newsletter, even park district catalog and you’ll undoubtedly find reference to STEM learning. Much of this learning is focused on older elementary and middle/high school students. Yet the foundation for STEM can (and does!) begin much earlier. 

Say What?

STEM is an acronym that stands for the fields of Science, Technology, Engineering and Math. Its proliferation in education research, policy, and industry can be traced to our standing among other industrialized nations. In 2015, the U.S. placed 38th out of 71 countries in math and 24th in science.  Clearly, to compete in today’s global economy, we have to get better at learning and integrating these subjects. I would argue that the best way to advance our STEM skills, especially science, is through learning in nature, which is where Free Forest School comes in.

What actually happens when children play at Free Forest School? They are learning concepts of engineering and technology by building a fort, or working together to water trees. They are learning to engage in scientific inquiry by observing, testing, and noticing the impact of throwing a rock into a river, or watching plants grow and change. They are learning math by sorting sticks, counting butterflies and discovering how many rocks they can balance on top of each other before they fall over. Much of this learning happens when we step back and allow children to explore. We can also help learning along by asking the right questions and knowing when to offer support or extra focus.

Free Forest School of Durango. Image by Mari.

I’m Not a Scientist

Many adults and even teachers are intimidated by science. I believe much of that comes from our internalization of what “science” is and how we may have been taught. Often times in classrooms we memorized formulas or experiments that didn’t relate to anything we did in the real world. This led to feelings of incompetence and as a result we shied away from anything related to science. 

But children are natural scientists. Spend one hour with a toddler, and you experience natural curiosity firsthand. Couple this innate wonder with the right questions and environment, and children can discover that the outdoors is a natural laboratory.

The Boston Children’s Museum’s STEM Sprouts Teaching Guide recommends asking “what” questions rather than “why” questions. “Why” questions imply that there is a correct answer. “Why are butterflies different colors?” or “Why do ducks float on the water?” are questions that have correct answers that children may not know, and may find discouraging. “What” questions, on the other hand, start a conversation with the child. Focus on what they are noticing and doing; use questions as springboards to investigate together. “What do you notice about the leaves in those trees?” and “What did you see when you climbed the big hill?” are much more accessible questions to answer that don’t have the same implication of answering incorrectly. By asking “what” questions, not only are you helping your child develop social emotional skills like communication, you are giving them confidence to formulate ideas and answer questions as experts.

Free Forest School of Delaware. Photo by Jessica Ladin.

Why Forest School is Sticky

Research in education discovered a close relationship between our knowledge of the natural world and our ability to evaluate scientific and mathematical concepts. Brains are wired to work in the most efficient way possible, and speed and ability are impacted by the strength of neural connections already built. In other words, the more familiar we are with a concept, the easier it is to learn and connect anything related to that concept. Likewise, our brains work more efficiently when we learn a concept through movement. John Medina, author of Brain Rules, suggests that our brains were created to, “solve problems related to surviving in outdoor settings, in unstable meteorological conditions, and in nearly constant motion.” 

In education, we frequently discuss a lesson’s “stickiness”: when a concept can be remembered and applied outside the classroom. Being able to touch, feel, and experiment in a natural context is more “sticky” than being taught something manufactured in a classroom, through a lecture or (gasp!) even a worksheet that requires little interaction or connection. One of my mentors in teaching school advised, “Ask yourself, ‘Is there a way to teach your students so they discover the answer on their own?’ Then do that.” The beauty of Free Forest School is the virtually limitless possibility for scientific inquiry, testing hypotheses, and observation—all of which require no setup, tools, or materials. Thank you, Mother Nature! 

Science is not simply a bunch of facts and figures. Science explains life and how things work in our world. The latest research on science education suggests scientific inquiry is more beneficial than occasional and unconnected science activities to build a foundation for science learning in later years. This is exactly what happens when you let children learn and explore with the lightest touch on their own terms. What better way is there to learn, than to discover it ourselves in nature?

Carrie Leonard left her corner office in 2016 to become a rarely-stay-at-home-mom. She is a trained teacher, psychologist and human resources practitioner. Carrie taught a large variety of ages and multiple disciplines, from preschool special education to gifted science middle-schoolers through boring old adults. When she’s not chasing around two wild boys, scouting for locations or facilitating in the Chicago suburbs, Carrie can be found playing amateur occupational therapist, reading or, most likely, taking a nap.