On Friday I walked into the staffroom at Quinns College to say g’day to some of the staff and recognised an old face – ‘Mrs S’- a woman who I taught with in my second year of teaching, a brilliant teacher and a wonderful woman from whom I learnt a huge amount about teaching. It was great to see her and as we chatted she reminded me of my days teaching English at Kingsway and our infamous ‘Survival Camp’.
In my second year of teaching I somehow found myself with a year 11 English class and one of our texts was Goldings ‘Lord of the Flies’, a real classic.
I was lying in bed one night pondering what we could do to really get the kids into the story – to actually help them connect with it and get its significance… and I began to wonder…
What if we were able to dump the entire class on an island for a weekend, scatter some food around and let nature take its course?…
What if we created our own ‘Lord of the Flies’ simulation?…
What if we let them experience it rather than just read about it?…
Wouldn’t that help them get into the story far better than ‘Brodie’s Notes’?!…
Just a bit…
I didn’t sleep much that night as my mind was racing and I couldn’t wait to put it to the other staff and see who was ‘in’. My brain was buzzing with all sorts of wild ideas that would make English a little more interesting… In case you are wondering if I am joking, remember this is 20 years ago before the ‘fun police’ declared any risky experiences off limits.
I was thinking Lancelin island would be the go. We’d paddle them across on surfboards or hire a boat and we’d stay there for an entire weekend. As staff we’d have food, beds and all we needed but the students would be ‘shipwrecked’ and would have to fend for themselves…
Of course Lancelin is a bird sanctuary so we had to drop that idea straight away – but the idea still had currency. So we finished up heading up to a Tuart Forest somewhere in the Cervantes region. I don’t think I could find it again today if my life depended on it, but it was a great spot. With 20 kids, and a couple of staff we headed off to ‘do English’.
The students weren’t allowed to bring anything but the clothes they were standing in. No matches, no knives, no toilet paper… No food.
Nothing… not a cracker…
We managed to get to the Tuart Forest after a fun drive and as teachers we set off hiding fruit and veg in the forest. The deal was ‘Whatever you find you can eat… if you don’t find you don’t eat’. Or you need to learn to negotiate and ask others for help.
We did leave some matches lying around, a knife and a tarp. It was ‘finders keepers’ when it came to the stuff. Some got lucky. Others did it tough for the 2 days.
We released a couple of live chickens which were caught, killed and eaten by the students. They were promptly vomited back up the next day… I’m guessing their cleaning procedures weren’t world class. Fortunately things didn’t degenerate quite like they did in Golding’s novel, but it was a taste of what those kids experienced when they landed on the island.
The following year we did the same down at Conto’s Springs. The picture above is of the Conto’s area. We stopped the cars at the top of the cliffs and as staff we made our way down and scattered the food among the dunes. Then we let the kids go and they either ran straight thru the bush to get to the bottom – a bit of a dangerous route, or they ran the 2ks down the track to the bottom. Either way the fittest got the food and the least fit – those who were used to eating a lot – discovered that they were going to be enjoying an enforced diet.
These blokes got the lion’s share…
Anna didn’t…
Other’s managed to negotiate…
It was another successful camp, but with some real tension and conflict at times. It needed some better debriefing than I was able to do at the time, but again the kids entered the world of the novel rather than just imagining it.
There is no way in the world any school would let us run a camp like this these days. The physical dangers, psychological dangers and the risk of litigation just wouldn’t be worth the risk. Which is very sad in my opinion. The ‘fun police’ have won the day and I reckon we’re poorer for it.
Any time I see those students and we get talking about school days do you reckon they remember Survival Camp?…
School days can be pretty damn humdrum, so some wacky experiences like that make it a little more memorable and who knows maybe they even learnt something…
I know I had fun!…