Still basking on the shores of informal learning, I recently planted zinnia seeds—a “near authentic” learning experience.
According to the Glossary of Educational Reform, “…authentic learning refers to a wide variety of educational and instructional techniques focused on connecting what students are taught in school to real-world issues.1 But there were no instructional techniques whatsoever involved in my zinnia adventure. So, perhaps “authentic learning” never happened.
What if, rather than connecting our school learning to real-world issues, we considered what our “real world” learning experiences could look like in school? Would it help us to “seed” things differently?
Let’s try it with my “real life” zinnia seed story below:
“Planting Zinnias” — My Authentic Learning Experience
I. REAL LIFE PROBLEM: The urns near my front steps were empty. They needed to hold some flowers.
II. GOAL SETTING: Last summer, I observed my father-in-law’s lovely pot of zinnias on his patio. “Where did you find those flowers?” I asked.
He replied, “I planted them from seeds. Just stuck them in the soil and watered them. Great deal. 25 cents.”
“I’d like to try that,” I thought.
III. ACTIVATION OF BACKGROUND KNOWLEDGE: I’m not sure that I recall planting a seed of my own. Maybe I did it in kindergarten. A seed in a cup with 1/2 cup of soil and some water. Then, I likely colored and decorated it like everyone else and brought it home to my Mother.
Or maybe I’ve extracted that memory from my own children who brought home seedlings from school in styrofoam cups. Usually around Mothers’ Day. I’d put them on my windowsill in the kitchen and water them for a day or two. Then I’d forget about them. (Sorry, kids.)
IV. STUDENT OWNERSHIP: The seeds I planted recently were my own Zinnia seeds — California Giants. I purchased a packet of them at the hardware store and planted them on the day after Easter. After scooping a bit of new potting soil from a bag and pressing it down on the top of the old, I tore open the packages and poked the little seeds into the dirt one by one.
“Would they sprout?” I watered, watched, and waited. The directions on the back of the packet promised that my zinnia seeds would sprout in 7-10 days. And despite evening temperatures slipping down into the 30’s, after 10 days, a few green tips came poking through the soil. They were soon about one inch tall — delicate stems —each with two, tiny, tender leaves reaching out like arms. It was all I could do not to eat them.
V. PROBLEM-SOLVING: One morning, about 4 weeks after planting, several of my young seedlings were lying sideways, recklessly pulled from the soil. A creature had dug holes in the soil, casting my seeds aside. Could it have been a squirrel looking for a buried nut in my urn?
Carefully, I poked the seeds back into the ground and sprinkled them with more water. After being dug up and replanted a few more times, up they grew.
VI. PREDICTING: The packet said that my zinnias should flower after about 60 days. So, June 21st square on my calendar was “blooming day.” But June 21st came and went with no blooms…just “almost blooms.”
Tantalizing. What color would the “almost blooms” be when they burst open? Orange? or maybe Pink? A delight to imagine!
VII. INQUIRY: At last, during the first week of July, my zinnias burst open in poof of color. Yellow, orange, pink and red. Amazing! They flopped and flipped. I could not look at zinnias enough. After admiring mine, I began to wonder what else I could learn about zinnias. I surfed the internet. There, I learned about Clementine Hunter, a famous African American folk artist. She loved to paint zinnias. (One day, I must visit the SCAD museum of art in Savannah, Georgia and enjoy Zinnias in a Pot.) I also discovered the entomologist and author, Eric Grissell and learned about his book, The History of Zinnias. I cannot wait to read it!
VIII. SCAFFOLDING: California zinnias are mighty tall flowers with furry, prickly stems. In my urns, they bent and flopped, overcome by the weight of their bright flowers. And to make things worse, a strong wind downed a large limb on my redbud tree. The branch fell on my urns and the flowers were knocked to the ground. Though the urns were reset upright, the zinnias were a broken mess. There was insufficient scaffolding.
IX. REFLECTION & SELF-ASSESSMENT: My clipped flowers made a lovely, but somewhat tangled bouquet. Were those new seeds that had begun to form in the middle of each bloom? Indeed they were! Yet, I did not harvest them. Next year, I will fill my urn with zinnia seeds again. I may start the seedlings before Easter. Perhaps under a light in my basement.
X. SETTING GOALS FOR IMPROVEMENT: Next year, instead of California Giants, I will plant Thumbelina Dwarfs.
Planting zinnia seeds had its challenges, but I grew right along with the flowers. There’s growth in classrooms as well when we connect learning worlds by “seeding” things differently!
- “Great Schools Partnership. (2013, May 15). Authentic Learning Definition. The Glossary of Education Reform. https://www.edglossary.org/authentic-learning/ ↩︎
P.S. Just Learning 