I admire people that are serious collectors of valuable items. Things such as limited edition prints or works of fine art. Vintage cars would be another nice thing to have in possession.
My tastes are a bit more…. earthy. I like dirt. Not things that are dirt cheap, or antiques that need cleaning up. No, I mean literal dirt.
It really all began for me when I was a child. I am fascinated with anything that comes out of the ground. I made mud pies when I was a preschooler. I once dug for hours at what I thought a priceless piece of pottery. I was disappointed to discover it was only a tree root. I began collecting rocks somewhere in grade school. I amassed pounds of the things and single-handedly added minor tonage to the family car at the end of every vacation.
If you asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I would have told you an archeologist. I wanted to keep digging my whole life!! (Well, it was either that or a spy. Both sounded adventurous).
In adulthood, my yearnings stayed rooted in the soil. I took to gardening like stink on a skunk. Just ask my children about that. I doubt that any of them will so much as pick up a hoe in their entire adult lives. When I say I gardened, I mean I GARDENED. We used to pick green beans by the 30 gallon trash can full. I was out of control.
Even just this morning on the ride in to church (a 30 mile jaunt), I commented to my family that I am still utterly amazed by the way the earth replenishes itself. The idea that a seed can lie dormant for decades and still produce life when given the right conditions blows my pea-sized brain away. Every spring when I stand and marvel over tiny green shoots in my garden, I am thrilled and in awe all over again. When God spoke the words, “Be fruitful and multiply” to the new world he had created, he wasn’t just a whistlin’ Dixie.
So here I am, a middle-aged, first year, first grade teacher. How do I transfer that awe to my students? How do I help them understand earth science and geography on a level they can understand? Their horizons are still so confined. It is difficult for them to grasp much beyond their comfortable universe of home and school. A trip to Bismarck is a big deal. Going out of state might as well be a trip to the moon. They will grasp those concepts as their minds mature and their experience base is broadened. But for now, how can I make this big, wonderful world we live in understandable to them?
I started by hanging a world map on the exit door at eye level, just to the right of our reading corner. It is not uncommon for a story or discussion to be interrupted so that they might scoot over to the map and find the part of the country or world we are reading about.
Pictures help shrink the world even further. Having a visual reference moves it from an unfamiliar concept to a mental file they can access at some point in the future.
Finally, there is our soil collection. It is in its infancy, to be sure. It began when I was taking courses to earn my education degree. One of my methods instructors, Dr. Gutensohn, a lovely lady and teacher to the marrow of her bones, mentioned that in all the places she had lived and visited, she always brought a soil sample back home with her for her classroom. My ears perked up like a Great Dane’s. Hey, I LOVE dirt. She’s speaking my language.
And so it began. A few Ziplock baggies tucked in the suitcase is all that is needed.
Why dirt? Because dirt is the common currency of my students.
These kids connect with the soil. Most of their families make their living from the earth. They come from farming families who rely on the generosity of the very earth to feed their families and carve out a life for themselves. Our base of understanding is dark brown, the color of coffee beans. Not as rich and dark as the Red River Valley (the finest in the state), but richer and more full of nutrients than arid areas of the country. We grieve and worry collectively when the rains are withheld and the dirt dries up and blows away. We know we have had too much moisture when mold and other fungi grow on standing crops. We are weather and soil-watchers. It interests us to know what other parts of this big, wide world are like. There are so many discussions started from staring at the soils of other places.
My cache is small, but growing. A co-worker’s daughter brought United Kingdom soil home from a summer trip. A visit to my family had me scooping Wyoming soil into empty pop bottles. The Garden of the Gods yielded red dust that used to belong to the rock sculptures (maybe I wasn’t supposed to take any. That thought just occurred to me. I guess if they need it back, they’ll let me know). A first grader traveled to Texas for a wedding and brought sand from the beach, still damp from the ocean’s salty waters. I wish you could have seen the looks on my kids’ faces when I poured some of that sand in a bowl and let them smell it and touch it with their fingers. It was surprisingly soft, almost like the texture of cornstarch. They were incredulous and delighted beyond description. Of course, we found Padre Island on the exit door map and discussed its locale. Now they had a sensory visual of another place in this world that many of them will never have opportunity to visit. But they can say they know what the sand feels like.
Another student has an aunt going to Florida soon. She has already been instructed to do a little digging for the benefit of eight curious first graders. We are looking forward to a new spot on the map to discuss.
There are limitations to my strange requests. A friend was going on a Caribbean cruise and I boldly asked for a “wee, small favor.” In the end, he decided that going through customs with two ounces of a white substance might not be worth the risk of arrest on foreign soil. Who can blame him? However, if he had stuffed it in the lining of his suitcase, then maybe… OK, ok, I’m getting a little crazy with this stuff.
So if you are a fan of Mrs. Dahl’s first grade class and would like to make a very small donation to our Soil Sample box, we would be delighted to accept any and all.
I do have a crazy, fabulous, beautiful idea for geography, but I need more space to write about it, and a sizeable grant to put it in to motion. I’ll keep you posted.
I am completely serious about the dirt. Send me an email message and I will provide a mailing address, and thanks in advance!
Sincerely,
Mrs. Dahl and Her Dirt-Loving Students
My school email address is:
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