Personally, place is foundational to my learning and teaching. For many, whether consciously or not, places have taught us lessons through observation and experience. Places have shaped how we perceive ourselves, how we care for land and water, and how we care for each other. For our students, their places continue to shape who they are and who they will become as adults and community members.
My place-based teaching pedagogy is simply: love of land, service to people.
And yet, so much of our world has shifted to virtual platforms. I am a millennial with the great fortune of growing up alongside many of the digital tools we use today, and yet I revel in the pleasure that not much of my growing up was documented online. Our students have very different realities.
Our students easily transition between names—both given and user-derived. Gamer tags, handles, and finsta (“fake Instagram”) names are easily recalled by peers, akin to someone’s own first name. They shift between their physical representation to their avatars and Memojis, depending on the time and location. These aspects of their identities move between physical and virtual worlds, and our values would encourage us to honor them all. Thus, the question persists: What does place-based mean for our virtual spaces?
Places are sites of knowledge. They are defined by the people who occupy them. Similarly, our virtual spaces hold the capacity to generate and share knowledge among the humans who engage there. While clouds look different between physical and virtual worlds, they both metaphorically hold stories that humans use to transfer information. In a virtual landscape, the grounding of land in my pedagogy shifts to the foundations of sites and platforms. We may learn to love these shared locations, building connection and collective identity.
The globalization and integration of technology in our schools melts our classroom walls. Information, politics, and social issues pour into our classes and students every day. Teaching in isolation of context continues to fuel the argument of obsolescence. Rather, when we invite our places into the classrooms—along with such inundation of information—we help shape how our students feel empowered to engage in the issues that surround them and affect their communities.
Our classroom spaces operate as sites of knowledge. We share a learning place that runs on co-created norms and common expectations. How does this translate virtually? Perhaps our learning management system (LMS)—Classroom, Canvas, or Schoology, for example—is an extension of the physical classroom. In other ways, we bring in our communities through virtual means. Whether through video conferencing with a local business owner, or viewing a nonprofit’s website, we are often making connections between virtual and physical worlds to root ourselves in place. We cannot discount the impact that virtual spaces have on place-based learning.
In the realm of virtual spaces, where access to the world’s resources is seemingly limitless, digital equity promises equal opportunities for all. However, this abundance raises critical questions about responsibility, integrity, and ethical considerations. When it comes to accessing cultural artifacts, traditional museums often are not accessible to all, as they often require admission fees and transportation costs.
The digitization of cultural artifacts presents a new challenge. While it democratizes access, it also raises questions about the appropriate mindset for engaging with these materials. In the physical world, cultural protocols and signage can guide behavior. However, in virtual spaces, these cues may be absent. Teachers must therefore take responsibility for providing students with the necessary instructions and knowledge to navigate these digital environments ethically.
As educators, we hold a responsibility to both our students and the artifacts to drive inquiry. In my class, we mindfully prepare when engaging in learning that involves cultural and natural artifacts. We begin our class with a metacognitive practice such as deep breathing or standing meditation. After completing our learning journey, we close with gratitude circles and one-word takeaways. These practices center the experience, not the individual learner. We underscore the recognition of collective growth rather than individual gain.
Engaging in a pedagogy honoring shared place affords us the opportunity to articulate and deepen our sense of belonging. Belonging requires action and radical care. We must compel our students to act. How may we encourage them to care and prepare themselves for an unknown future? By prioritizing place in our curriculum, we demonstrate to our students that they are valued and needed in our community. This pedagogy encourages students to contribute their individual gifts back into their places, both physical and virtual.
Keep in mind that place-based practices are intentionally localized and resist the singular goal of problem-solving. When I first started on my place-based teaching journey, the aim centralized around novel projects and finding solutions. Quickly, I found myself burnt out and overextending my community partners. Place-based practices must be sustainable, both for the Earth and for the teacher-facilitator. Sustainable practices evoke more joy than taxing human capital. I pivoted my classes away from finding problems to solve in place, to recognizing the rigor of active belonging, contributing, and amplifying the knowledge held within the community.
As we support our students in an increasingly digital world, let us lead with mindful appreciation for our places, sites, and platforms, knowing that belonging is an act of resilience and courage—a goal of education.
Watch the recording of Dr. Aragaki’s Elevating Innovation presentation, Building Community in Our Shared Places, along with all Elevating Innovation sessions on Verizon Innovative Learning HQ.
