Educational Philosophy

“Never seem more learned than the people you are with. Wear your learning like a pocket watch and keep it hidden. Do not pull it out to count the hours, but give the time when you are asked.”  – Lord Chesterfield

No one likes a know-it-all. Most people don’t even like a know-it-some. Is there anything more annoying when you’re trying to learn something new than someone skilled jumping in and saying, “It’s easy, do it like this!”  I’ve heard countless hours of unwanted “helpful advice” given to students over the years.  Usually it has been more of a distraction than an aid.

An important skill for the new guide or bushcraft instructor is learning to keep your mouth shut.  Offer advice when requested, but know how to keep quiet and stay out of the way so people can learn.

There is a specific type of person who always has to have the last word. If you’ve done something, they claim to have done it bigger and better. And if they haven’t, they have a friend who has.

When I was in college my friends and I knew a guy for whom this was his defining character trait. I’ve forgotten his real name, but we just called him “Dude, my buddy” because he would start every sentence with that line. If someone was eating a hot dog, he’d show up and say something like, “Dude, my buddy can eat 50 hot dogs in one sitting!” If you challenged him, or made a greater claim, he would make an even wilder claim so that his was the “winner.” None of his wild claims were ever verified.

One day, my roommate got tired of putting up with him and said, “Dude, my buddy can fly. Not in a plane, he can just fly!” The other guy saw we were onto him, and it was game over.

The reason I’ve taken you on this trip down memory lane is that as people learn some bushcraft or survival skills, there is the temptation to compare what’s being done with media figures or others who have done more. But everyone is on their own journey with their own trajectory, and not everyone is headed in the same direction. As such, stories that reinforce the fact that someone is a beginner and has a long way to go help neither their skill or confidence. Since they add nothing constructive, avoid them.

For example, if someone is making a fire with a hand drill, they could probably do without hearing a story about the guy on tv who does it faster. Or if someone is learning to grow some food they probably don’t need to be told about the long, lost relative who grew all their own food during the 1930′s. When my son was learning to ride his bike, spouting out facts about Lance Armstrong’s accomplishments and how successful he was wouldn’t have accomplished anything positive.

So don’t be like that guy. If your story about what your friend or the guy on youtube did adds nothing, keep it to yourself. If you want to join the conversation, share your personal experience if you think it would be helpful. But remember to relate to the learner where they are and not try to bring them to where you are. Respect their journey.

 

These two quotations from “The Art Of Outdoor Living” jumped out at me because what they say about experiential education and a realistic assessment of skill through a practical exam apply directly to our new Journeyman Bushcraft Instructor & Wilderness Guide Certification Program. Scroll to the bottom for full bibliographic information.

“The training and preparation in this program should be in the form of actual living experience through wilderness trips, out-post camping, and such other related experiences and projects as may be planned by the various instructors and camp leaders, to provide necessary experience and practice.

A further purpose of the training should be to develop abilities that permit the youthful persons to perform their tasks as naturally as possible, as though this is what they do all the time in daily living in the open. There should be NO emphasis upon skill acquirement for “test” purposes only. The true purpose is to learn and acquire skills and abilities that become a natural way of one’s doing things.”

Art Of Outdoor Living, p. 19

“Their (practical exam staff) prime purpose is to enable the candidates to demonstrate that their knowledge and skill is sound and secure. In short, that the candidate can capably and safely conduct himself or herself in a wilderness environment and care for others as well. The ultimate criterion is: Could the candidate handle the mechanics of planing and leading a trip safely and efficiently? Such a standard of accomplishment is implicit in the word “Guide”.

The demonstration of skill and wilderness “know-how” should NOT be viewed as a perfunctory test before a mentor, but as an honest, straight-forward opportunity to show someone that one is truly capable, knowledgeable, and resourceful in the ways of the woods and wilderness travel.”

Art Of Outdoor Living, p. 39

From: Whiting, Robert M., Ed. The Art Of Outdoor Living: Basic Junior Maine Guide Text. Gardiner, ME: Maine Camp Director’s Association, 1977.  It’s a great book if you can find a copy.

One of the new aspects we’re building into our Journeyman Certification Course are skill and craft benchmarks. It’s great to learn how to make new things. But, to attain even a basic skill level with them, they have to be completed a number of times.

For example, on some of our courses students learn how to carve a netting needle and gauge. Their first attempts are usually a little rough, but they learn the process which is the important part. We tell them that they’ve taken the first step toward understanding the netting needle and gauge, but to really know it they need to make ten more.

For the Journeyman course, students will take the knowledge they learned on the course home and complete specific tasks a specified number of times. When they’re done, they’ll really know what they’re doing and will have eliminated much of the learning curve.

Proof of completing the benchmarks a specific number of times is necessary to complete the program. This allows us to move quickly during the immersion phase of the program, but to also ensure that tasks are repeated enough times so that the learning is on a deep, non-superficial level.

 

It takes time to learn. For some things, this can be measured in minutes. For others, it’s measured in decades. When we become enamoured with something, we often want to shorten the learning time so we can get to the point where we’re respected for knowing it, where we’re the celebrated “expert”. So the temptation is to pretend we’re there before we are, and to inflate or fake our knowledge, experience and credentials. No one will find out, right?

In my world, I could make an unknown plant fit the description of another in a field guide, allowing me to look like the expert. I could identify an animal track or scat as belonging to a certain animal, even if the evidence shows it belongs to another animal. I could make up a bunch of stuff about my background to make me fit the part more ( raised by wolves?). And by using persuasive language, I could make those around me believe that I’m right or telling the truth. But I don’t.

It’s an ego-trap to believe that you always have to have the answer. It’s much better and more honest to be comfortable saying you don’t know.

This isn’t just for outdoor endeavors. It could be claiming to know how to edit software code, or operate a piece of machinery. I imagine that there are instances of it in all human endeavors, because ultimately it’s about the human ego, not endeavors.

It’s OK to not know, and to not have all the answers. No one does.

Active Learning

by Tim Smith on February 16, 2011 · 1 comment

A lot of what we do in our bushcraft courses doesn’t look like formal education. The old-school image of a standing instructor lecturing to seated students taking notes is a rarity. We have no love affair with seat time, nor with the lecture format. You’re more likely to see a small group of people engaged in a discussion as they move around the landscape. You’re certain to see people making and doing things.

Filling a notebook isn’t learning, it’s filling a notebook. Listening to a lecture is hearing someone talk about something. Learning, of the sort of know-how bushcraft seeks to foster, is accomplished by doing something. Years later you probably won’t remember what someone said, but you’ll remember what you did.

Bushcraft Gear Hype

by Tim Smith on January 26, 2011 · 6 comments

If you eat a great meal at a restaurant, is the type of spatula the cook used responsible for the taste of the food?

If you see a beautiful house, how important is the type of hammer the builder used to the final structure?

If someone has a beautiful website, do you ask them what kind of keyboard they used?

Why all the hype about outdoor knives, then?  Get a good knife (don’t join the never-ending search for the “best”, because you’ll never find it), then learn how to use it.

Remember that it’s the user, not the tool, that’s important.

Creative Substitutions

by Tim Smith on January 12, 2011 · 2 comments

We stopped using sandpaper for smoothing wood on field courses years ago. Sandpaper is sand, or grit, glued to a piece of paper in a thin layer. It doesn’t last very long, which precludes it from being taken on long trips. A simple alternative is to take a piece of fabric (denim or cotton duct works great) and a handful of sand, then use that to smooth the piece you’re working on. The fabric holds the sand. The only thing lacking is the glue, and if you need to hold the sand more stationary you can mix some lard or other fat with the sand and it will hold it together (this can be useful for improvised sharpening). It’s easy to transport because you only carry the fabric. You could also wear a pair of gloves and palm the sand.

Another sandpaper alternative is using shards of broken glass to shave wood. Less portable, but it’s hard to go anywhere where you can’t find an old beer bottle.

There are usually numerous creative substitutes for things we think of as necessary. The challenge is in recognizing them, which can be difficult even if the solution is right in front of you.

Omit Extraneous Gear

by Tim Smith on January 5, 2011 · 4 comments

A question discussed on many outdoor forums is what gear a person needs.  My question is what can a person do without?

Learning To Write

by Tim Smith on December 5, 2010 · 1 comment

You learn to write by writing. It’s a truism, but what makes it a truism is that it’s true. The only way to learn to write is to force yourself to produce a certain number of words on a regular basis.

– William Zinsser, from “On Writing”, p.49.

Is there anything you could switch writing with in this quotation and have it no longer be true?  Is there any other way to learn than by doing?

The Secret Is To Simplify

December 3, 2010

When you’re learning a new skill, it should be as simple as possible, broken down into its necessary elements and with as many details as possible stripped away. The focus should be on the minimum input needed for success. This is why many how-to books aimed at beginners fail; too much detail. On our bushcraft [...]

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A Course Is Like A Map

December 2, 2010

Taking a course does not make you an expert. You become an expert by investing enough time, energy and sweat to really learn something in depth.  How much time?  Malcom Gladwell, in his book Outliers, popularized the 10,000 hour rule; “The idea that it takes approximately 10,000 hours of deliberate practice to master a skill.”  [...]

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Failure Is The Price Of Tuition For Learning

November 28, 2010

I  have learned more about fungi from Paul Stamets‘s book Mycelium Running (Amazon.com link)  than any other resource.  While other books on mushrooms are often great field guides for identifying individual species, Stamets’s book has helped me to understand the ecology and relationships of mushrooms.  I still have a long way to go, but I [...]

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