Perhaps the future of learning is about stripping things away

Hello everyone.

This is my first article of the year. Although it is already almost February. Haha.

I think I mentioned it briefly in a previous article (or did I?), but at the beginning of the year, I moved to an even more nature-rich area within Hokkaido.

Surrounding me are magnificent nature and gently towering mountains.

And it is a place where the kind of neighborly relationships that have disappeared from most regions of Japan (mainly urban areas) are still deeply rooted.

Everyone seems to be living their lives at their own pace and in their own way.

And there is a very small school near my house with about 60 students in total.

My son transferred and became a fifth grader at that school.

There are eight students in the fifth grade in total.

I went to greet the teachers before the transfer.

When I entered the entrance, teachers came out one after another to welcome my son and me.

Is this really a school?

It was such an at-home atmosphere that I couldn't help but think that.

The atmosphere among the teachers felt more like neighbors than colleagues.

I have seen many schools myself, but this was the first time I had ever seen such a relaxed educational environment.

The principal, the vice-principal, and the teachers—none of them were putting on any unnecessary airs, and both my son and I were enveloped in that warm atmosphere, naturally relaxing our shoulders and smiling.

There were living creatures in the classroom, and a lot of harvested rice was hanging by the window.

It seems that this school makes the most of the local characteristics and incorporates farming into many of its classes.

And the view from the window is also spectacular.

When surrounded by such magnificent nature, I think most things start to feel trivial.

Watching the children, I see they are very close to their teachers.
It reminds me of the warmth of the Showa era, just like when I was a child.

Furthermore, it is not just in schools; the people in the community are also very close to one another.

We often have potluck dinners on weekday nights.

A wide range of children, from toddlers to elementary school students, gather together,

and the parents get excited talking among themselves while watching their children play happily.

I wondered if a place like this still existed in Japan outside of Yanbaru...

That alone makes me feel that moving here was truly the right decision.

My eldest son, who used to hate school and spent half the week homeschooling, has been going to school every day so far.

What's more, he is diligently doing his homework and home studies.
(It's the first time I've seen him like that.)

Perhaps he, too, has let go of unnecessary tension and said goodbye to distracting thoughts.

He adjusted to school immediately after transferring, and perhaps he feels a sense of security being gently watched over by his friends, teachers, and the local community.

And it might be because he is surrounded by people who are living fully in the present rather than just looking at the future.

I, too, used to go through a lot of trial and error regarding academics (partly because I was homeschooling).

However, those concepts have disappeared now.

It is not because my son is going to school every day.

It is because that need has vanished.

Learningis very important for living.

However,does its essence exist within a curriculum?

I believe that curricula and learning methods are things that only stand on a foundation.

Thinking about it that way, I believe the current state of the education world is the result of piling plus upon plus, such as 'this teaching method is good,' 'these skills will be necessary from now on,' or 'doing such-and-such is good for raising self-esteem'.

From now on, rather than adding more, perhaps it is necessary to strip things away?

In the end,
only what is truly important and core should remain.

Thank you for reading until the end this time as well.