Why I teach like a caveman,
It seems to me that two of the things that make humans unique on the planet is our need to share stories and our need to make stuff.
Way back before once upon a time time when we were trying to decide as a species if it was better to stay hunched over and not hit our head on the cave ceiling or stand upright like all the cool hominids, it was those two traits that set us apart. Other animals gathered, and some seemed to have basic communication. But it was just us writing on walls to illustrate grand adventures. Several species were using rocks to break nuts and shellfish open, but we are the only ones and trying to fasten them on the end of perfectly good sticks to make spears.
Skip forward several million millennia and we are still inherently wired to tell stories and making stuff. That combination of story and make turns out to be an evolutionary one-two punch. They allow us to build off the works of the past and push the future forward faster and more efficiently with every iteration.
As an educator, I would argue that most, if not all, of what we do in our classrooms can be framed as learning the form, function, and applications of either story or making. Digging down to roots of subjects we teach it’s not hard to see how story and making are the bedrock of so much of what we do. The curiosity that has shaped us is almost always resolved with stories of why, deconstructing the what, or building upon old hows.
Recent shifts and shuffles of the educational fault lines have exposed those roots to new light and given us the chance to directly explore what making adds to how we learn. Apart from the obvious constructionist application and the important connection makerspaces have to STEM education, the opportunity to explore how things are put together offers students a chance to understand the parts and pieces of the world around them in the same way that that library of stories does.