“What can we hear when we really decide to listen?”
I posed this question to a pack of 14 fifth graders visiting IslandWood, buzzing with energy in dappled late-winter sunlight. Sitting together on a fallen cedar at the end of a winding and steep trail, heads whipping around to capture the environment, I knew that transitioning these students from visual exploration into auditory exploration would be an uphill but worthwhile pursuit.
Why try to listen?
For many students in the outdoors, their initial (and often only) mode of observation is visual. While observation of any kind can be illuminating and transformative, creating space for alternative modes of exploration opens the door to unexpected noticings and more holistic models of the environment. Specifically, listening reveals what we cannot see. It allows students to encounter hidden and far-off organisms, to hear themselves contributing to the soundscape, and to begin to understand the ambient character of place. Developing a repertoire of listening to the environment, rather than solely looking, grants access to context we cannot see, and it encourages students to draw connections between what they see, what they hear, and the mechanics of sound.
Deep listening, as described by Pauline Oliveros (2005), is the practice of widening acoustic perception to include as much depth and variety as possible across space and time. It is the act of pouring full attention into what can be heard. Deep listening is a meditative practice in that it requires discipline and long-term focus (Oliveros 2005). This set of skills is challenging to uphold and is often unfamiliar to students. Deep listening necessitates that students slow down and remain in a focused space for an extended time.
This is made more difficult when students are exploring a new environment. The anxiety of trying something new combines with that of being in a novel location, causing students to struggle settling into an attentive practice. However, once attention to sound is established, the relationship between anxiety and meditation is inverted. The meditative process calms fears and allows students to ground themselves in a new place.
Moving from buzzing excitement to contemplative practice
Instigating the transition between high-activity visual observation and prolonged listening can appear insurmountable, but there are several ways to work alongside students to enter into a meditative space.
Introduce a story about the power of listening
To begin the process of settling into the space and to begin directing toward listening, it can be helpful to begin with a story that emphasizes listening to the environment.With this group of students, I read Owl Moon by Jane Yolen aloud. This not only gave them an opportunity to get comfortable, but it connected them with the value of listening and with the relationship between prolonged silence and the awakening soundscape.
Ask them to try covering their eyes
Even if students are acquainted with why taking time to listen is a worthwhile experience, they may struggle with how to listen deeply. In order to guide them toward what deep listening may feel like, have them listen to the environment while covering their eyes for around a minute. Be sure to ask them if they noticed any new sounds while listening.When I tried this with my IslandWood students, they immediately noticed the swishing of their rain gear, the sound of the wind in the branches above their heads, and the croaking of faraway frogs.
Set them up so they can spread
Breaking into a listening practice requires focus, space, and time. In order to facilitate this, pick a location where students can spread out and find a comfortable place. This not only allows students to choose how and where to position themselves, but it also gives them space to focus on what they are hearing without interference from their peers.Push through early restlessness
Upon initially settling in, students tend to be restless and chatty. It is important to remember that they are trying something new and are exiting their comfort zones. Give them time and encouragement as they relax. With some time, I have found that they will gradually become more invested as they notice the world around them. Allow them to adjust on their own schedules.For the first few minutes, this group of students intermittently shouted at and shushed each other. Slowly, they began to quiet into reflective listening. After fifteen minutes, our agreed-upon duration, I suggested we move on, only to be met with a series of shushes.
The Beginning of a Practice
Working alongside students to listen to the environment guides them toward a new way of understanding the world around them. By dedicating time to learning to listen, students gain skills that can be applied any time and in any place. They begin to see what listening can reveal.
References
Oliveros, P. (2005). Deep Listening: A Composer’s Sound Practice. Deep Listening Publications.
“What can we hear when we really decide to listen?”
I posed this question to a pack of 14 fifth graders visiting IslandWood, buzzing with energy in dappled late-winter sunlight. Sitting together on a fallen cedar at the end of a winding and steep trail, heads whipping around to capture the environment, I knew that transitioning these students from visual exploration into auditory exploration would be an uphill but worthwhile pursuit.
Why try to listen?
For many students in the outdoors, their initial (and often only) mode of observation is visual. While observation of any kind can be illuminating and transformative, creating space for alternative modes of exploration opens the door to unexpected noticings and more holistic models of the environment. Specifically, listening reveals what we cannot see. It allows students to encounter hidden and far-off organisms, to hear themselves contributing to the soundscape, and to begin to understand the ambient character of place. Developing a repertoire of listening to the environment, rather than solely looking, grants access to context we cannot see, and it encourages students to draw connections between what they see, what they hear, and the mechanics of sound.
Deep listening, as described by Pauline Oliveros (2005), is the practice of widening acoustic perception to include as much depth and variety as possible across space and time. It is the act of pouring full attention into what can be heard. Deep listening is a meditative practice in that it requires discipline and long-term focus (Oliveros 2005). This set of skills is challenging to uphold and is often unfamiliar to students. Deep listening necessitates that students slow down and remain in a focused space for an extended time.
This is made more difficult when students are exploring a new environment. The anxiety of trying something new combines with that of being in a novel location, causing students to struggle settling into an attentive practice. However, once attention to sound is established, the relationship between anxiety and meditation is inverted. The meditative process calms fears and allows students to ground themselves in a new place.
Moving from buzzing excitement to contemplative practice
Instigating the transition between high-activity visual observation and prolonged listening can appear insurmountable, but there are several ways to work alongside students to enter into a meditative space.
Introduce a story about the power of listening
To begin the process of settling into the space and to begin directing toward listening, it can be helpful to begin with a story that emphasizes listening to the environment.
With this group of students, I read Owl Moon by Jane Yolen aloud. This not only gave them an opportunity to get comfortable, but it connected them with the value of listening and with the relationship between prolonged silence and the awakening soundscape.
Ask them to try covering their eyes
Even if students are acquainted with why taking time to listen is a worthwhile experience, they may struggle with how to listen deeply. In order to guide them toward what deep listening may feel like, have them listen to the environment while covering their eyes for around a minute. Be sure to ask them if they noticed any new sounds while listening.
When I tried this with my IslandWood students, they immediately noticed the swishing of their rain gear, the sound of the wind in the branches above their heads, and the croaking of faraway frogs.
Set them up so they can spread
Breaking into a listening practice requires focus, space, and time. In order to facilitate this, pick a location where students can spread out and find a comfortable place. This not only allows students to choose how and where to position themselves, but it also gives them space to focus on what they are hearing without interference from their peers.
Push through early restlessness
Upon initially settling in, students tend to be restless and chatty. It is important to remember that they are trying something new and are exiting their comfort zones. Give them time and encouragement as they relax. With some time, I have found that they will gradually become more invested as they notice the world around them. Allow them to adjust on their own schedules.
For the first few minutes, this group of students intermittently shouted at and shushed each other. Slowly, they began to quiet into reflective listening. After fifteen minutes, our agreed-upon duration, I suggested we move on, only to be met with a series of shushes.
The Beginning of a Practice
Working alongside students to listen to the environment guides them toward a new way of understanding the world around them. By dedicating time to learning to listen, students gain skills that can be applied any time and in any place. They begin to see what listening can reveal.
References
Oliveros, P. (2005). Deep Listening: A Composer’s Sound Practice. Deep Listening Publications.
