My classroom has little slits for windows; narrow, horizontal panes at the back of the room let in a small amount of light, and two vertical rectangles at the far ends offer a glimpse of the outside world. Even though I cover my walls with posters of mountains, forests, and beaches, the room feels gray and colorless.

It is in this environment that we want our students to learn to celebrate the wonder of creation and study the complexities of the sciences. We want them to not only understand history and literature but also apply those lessons to their own lives, and we prod them to write imaginatively in a setting with little scope for the imagination.

Each summer, however, three other teachers and I have the privilege of escaping this artificial environment. During these summer sessions, when the prairie is our classroom and the campfire is the discussion forum, we can teach and our students can learn in a way I have rarely seen anywhere else.

Photo by Alex Docekal

Students and faculty from Westminster Christian Academy make the mountains their classroom.

The Course

For the past four years, approximately 25 students in the Summer Seminar in the Liberal Arts at Westminster Christian Academy, a private suburban high school in St. Louis, Missouri, have spent 12 days learning outside the school. We devote two hours of each day to instruction. These sessions, which we call cores, include reading, writing, lecture, and class discussion. Our content is cross-curricular: We cover philosophy, history, science, literature, and ethics. The curriculum is challenging, and we expect a high caliber of thought, discussion, and reflective writing. Students receive a semester's elective credit, and assessment is based on both group and individual participation as well as written assignments.

Each day also includes strenuous physical activity, such as hiking, biking, or kayaking, always in a beautiful place, our favorite region being the Badlands, Black Hills, and rivers of South Dakota. We camp in remote and often primitive sites, cook our own food, and hire an outfitting guide when necessary.

Challenging the Mind, Body, and Heart

Our seminar engages the whole child. It is more than a class of the mind; we demand physical activity. It is, however, more than a sports camp; we ask students to engage with difficult academic content. Many students have encountered nature at summer camps or with their families, but this is different because we demand reflection, thought, and participation. Finally, many outdoor programs recruit at-risk or troubled students in the hopes of instilling in them humility and confidence. Our program, in contrast, takes successful students and helps them become even better academically, physically, socially, and emotionally.

Photo by Alex Docekal

Biking is among the physical activities students participate in during the Summer Seminar.

On a typical trip, we start the teaching on the tall grass prairie at Wounded Knee in South Dakota. Students read eyewitness accounts of the brutal 1890 slaughter of the Lakota Sioux on the exact spot where it occurred. Traveling through the Cheyenne River Indian Reservation, home of four Lakota Sioux tribes and a community with one of the lowest per capita incomes in the United States, our students can see for themselves the result of U.S. government policy and decades of institutional racism. (See Student Reflections on Wounded Knee.)

In a science core, the biology teacher chides us for viewing the earth as expendable and exploitable. He calls us to actions of restoration that would show we cherish all things created. Students learn of one possible route to restoration at a buffalo ranch, a fertile island of good, green prairie in the midst of thousands of acres of lifeless, starved, and desolate grasslands. Our guest lecturer, buffalo rancher Dan O'Brien, tells us that what cattle did to destroy the prairie, buffalo can do to restore it. He treats his buffalo with dignity, living out the principles we have been discussing in theory. (See Student Reflections on the Buffalo Ranch.)

As the days progress, students read such works as "A World Split Apart" by Alexander Solzhenitsyn, the Gettysburg Address by Abraham Lincoln, and Pollution and the Death of Man by Francis Schaeffer (Tyndale House, 1970). We ask students to apply lessons from the reading material to their own lives, to ask themselves how they can live differently. A key to the success of the seminar is the ample time we grant for reflection. Cores in English and in ethics require students to answer directed questions in their journals. The samples of student work that accompany this article reveal that students were thinking deeply about the content presented. (See Student Writing Samples.)

Making It Happen

A summer program like this may sound great, but there are a lot of practical matters to consider before beginning. These are a few principles we have found helpful.

Flexibility

Living in primitive campsites can be wonderful. In these isolated sites, students have marveled at the number of the stars, listened to the howl of coyotes, and realized, to their surprise, that they can manage without e-mail. However, weather can be a challenge. It is miserable trying to cook spaghetti over a camp stove in a thunderstorm. On one of our trips, the campground toilets were closed for two days because electricity was out. Leaders must be willing to let plans go awry and prepared to adjust schedules as needed.

Compatibility

Our students apply for the program, and we always have more applicants than spots. Although we have a long list of criteria, such as academic success and good behavior, the biggest factor in our selection is each student's ability to work with others. We'll choose a cheerful, helpful, pleasant B student over a whiny or arrogant A+ student any day.

Pace

For our first trips, we tried to teach too much, and we planned far too much for each day. Now, on the day we cycle 40 miles, we don't assign 30 pages of reading. We save our heartier lectures for days of less strenuous exercise. By the end of the trip, students are tired, so they are less able to focus on long lectures or reading assignments. These last days are the perfect time to emphasize reflective writing and group discussion.

Leadership

Although all four teachers on the trip are colleagues, one teacher needs to be in charge. The other teachers need to be willing to give input and then yield to any last-minute decisions the lead teacher must make about logistics, curriculum, and other matters.

On the flip side, the lead teacher shouldn't be domineering and controlling. It's good to have someone in charge who will make the last-minute decisions; it's also important that the lead teacher be flexible and collaborative.

Community

Letting students build their own community is pivotal. Year after year, students have commented that they appreciate being able to move outside their usual cliques and relate to students with whom they had previously never spent time. Routinely, the entire group stays up late around a campfire without dividing into groups or cliques, simply enjoying one another's company. As adults, we have intentionally stayed out of managing these developing relationships, outside of assigning a few directed journal questions.

Supervision

Because we have been in the enviable position of having more applicants than available spots, we have also been able to ward off discipline problems. Although we are on guard, as of yet we have had no significant behavior problems. Students do sign a statement of appropriate behavior before the trip. Our expectation level is high, but so is our trust level; we don't hover over kids, eavesdrop on conversations, or go through luggage. If serious issues do arise, the students involved will be sent home at their parents' expense.

On this issue, compatibility among staff is also crucial: A teacher who wants to assert more control, for example, might find our more low-key approach difficult.

Growing Whole Children

As I watch kids write intensely and vigorously in their journals, I can hear the meadowlarks singing in the long grasses of the prairie and a buffalo snorting over a faraway ridge. As the sun rises high, I take delight in the pure beauty of the prairie. But I take even greater delight in watching the students transform into thinkers before my eyes.

Photo by Justin Beasley

The tall grasses of the prairie are among the many sights that stimulate students' thinking.

In faculty lounges all across the country, teachers regularly complain that kids have lost the love of learning. When reading works of Carl Sagan in front of a waterfall, or Solzhenitsyn on a hiking trail, or Huxley on a beach, our students learn for learning's sake, ask questions of their own, and think for the pure joy of thinking. Imagine the possibilities: students asking questions because the history content matters, because journal writing isn't just about filling a class period but about exploring a powerful idea. These are the hallmarks of good teaching and learning—this is what it means to grow whole children.

Student Reflections on Wounded Knee From the moment Mr. Knerr gave his first core at Wounded Knee, I was confronted. I was confronted by the injustice and depravity of the world around me. It was unfair when Indian men, women, and children were killed by Custer and his forces. There is no possible way that I can look at the world around me and deny that there is a problem. The question I am challenged to ask is, What am I going to do about it? —Karri A broken world is a daily reality that every human must face. Failure, loss, and disappointment are recurring themes in the sad story of the world that never lived up to what it was supposed to be. Everyone will battle and suffer in the effects of sin, but the way in which we suffer and battle is left up to us. Although we as people are sinful, we are still capable of love, freedom, and redemption. The brutal slayings at Wounded Knee amplified the evil that happens in our everyday lives. Walking through the graveyard of the fallen Indians gave me a desire for something greater and a longing for a redeemed world free from the effects of sin and the death and destruction it causes all around us. We may not always do what is right, but it is a privilege to live in a way that has hope and promise. —Daniel Throughout all of his lessons, he [Knerr] made us think deeply about the current issues in our lives. At our first stop in South Dakota, Wounded Knee, he introduced the concept of corruption in this earth, especially when he showed us those horrific pictures of an American soldier shooting a mother with her child. It was so weird to me that we were sitting where many innocent lives were taken. Next we traveled to Mount Rushmore. I have to admit I have always been proud of our country, especially when I walked on the sidewalk entering the [Mount Rushmore] amphitheater. I felt so inspired to see the Missouri flag when I was walking in. I was a part of something. But, my perspective was changed when I read Mr. Knerr's readings about how the Americans stole the Natives' land. I was very discouraged to see America's corruption. In a way though, I still think Mt. Rushmore is a work of art and a symbol of our democracy. I just wish we [had placed the monument] somewhere else where we wouldn't steal innocent people's land. —Tess Return to Article

Student Reflections on the Buffalo Ranch "These majestic, massive beasts called buffalo fit into the Great Plains like the last piece in a vast jigsaw puzzle." —Harper "The buffalo are undoubtedly one of the most beautiful driving forces of the plains." —Sam S. "When I first saw one, I thought, ‘Holy moly, those buffalo heads probably weigh more than me!’" —Sam B. "Innocent, lively animals that restore the heart of nature." —David "The cumbersome beasts roam across their native land with such grace that it is hard to imagine a time when they were not there." —Anne Return to Article

Student Writing Samples Mount Harney was a perfect place to learn about the Christian's responsibility in taking care of the Earth. Being surrounded and raised above the land allows a person to look out and see that the beauty of the Earth is worth protecting. Each person can and should make a difference in allowing what is here now to remain for others in the future. —Amber "Forgotten World" Normal life has forsaken the prairie Here is a world of unknowns Pale winds blow away the painful past that has painted the morning red A desecrated land restored to former significance Beauty engulfs this wild alien world so strongly admired—Daniel So often the suffering within America is forgotten. It is a proud nation, always looking to fix problems elsewhere yet often failing to recognize its own internal ones. An obvious yet important step in restoring shalom [peace], particularly in the Great Plains of America, is realizing the wrongs that have been done to the Indians. It is a shameful part of our past as Americans that is often overlooked, yet Mr. Knerr forced us to face these issues so that we can be educated and [become] instruments of change. The wounds are deep and restoration takes time and comes with a price, yet our readings proved that there is still hope for change. —Ben "What Could It Be" The late day and early night the wind blows through the prairie the different shades of green that take me back to a more peaceful time where buffalo roamed where Indians lived now they are forgotten since the fences were put in what would it have looked like stretching endlessly across the earth what it could be is what makes me love the prairie—Caleb I hope that my perspective will never be the same. This new view of creation having great value and [being] in need of redemption is inspiring and challenging. Ordinary parts of nature now seem unique and beautiful. —Sarah Return to Article

Ann Heyse is an English teacher at Westminster Christian Academy in St. Louis, Missouri.