Learning by Doing and Living: From Roots to the Future
“School is not just four walls. School is everywhere.” How true that observation is. Indeed, education is not merely about ticking boxes on exam papers; education is about the child touching life with their own hands.
In the film adaptation of Rıfat Ilgaz's unforgettable work Hababam Sınıfı, Mahmut Hoca has a saying. The teacher says: "School is not just four walls. School is everywhere." What a true observation. Indeed, education is not just about ticking boxes on exam papers; education is about children touching life with their own hands. Today, in different countries around the world, children cook their own meals in class, learn simple sewing, and walk on the earth in forest schools.
We see that the roots of this approach lie in the legacy of great thinkers. John Dewey says, ‘Learning is permanent when it is integrated with experience.’ Jean Piaget emphasises the decisive role of concrete experiences in a child's cognitive development. Lev Vygotsky demonstrates that learning occurs through social interaction and within the ‘zone of proximal development.’ Maria Montessori, meanwhile, demonstrates that true learning is possible when children are given freedom and allowed to do things on their own.
What lovely expressions, aren't they? In our country, too, parents who dream of the best for their children often feel enchanted when they knock on the doors of schools and hear these magnificent principles. Yet we had already lived this philosophy in the villages of Anatolia. Village Institutes were places where children learned mathematics in the fields, physics in the carpentry workshop, and labour in the kitchen. Books and soil, pencils and hammers were side by side. So what happened next? The rest is well known. These hopeful institutions were closed down by political winds. Still, their traces remained in our memory for a while. I remember that in the state schools of our childhood, we still wove macramé in art and craft classes and learned how to become what we would now call ‘financially literate’ in home economics classes. Beyond all this, the joy of creating something with our own hands was priceless. However, over time, these lessons became ‘hollowed out’. At the point we have reached today, there is no room for skills or an educational approach that touches on life. Moreover, the issue is not just the content of the lessons. The gradual reduction in the budget allocated to education, the encroachment of privatisation policies on education, and the dysfunctionalisation of state schools have triggered the transformation of education into a ‘purchased service.’ Today, very few people have not had their path in education cross with the private sector in one way or another. As an educator who has been part of this sector myself, we boast about the number of universities and how many of our students enter university, but we do not question how ill-equipped our young graduates are when they enter life. It is clear that as the number of universities increases and the number of students attending university rises, we are not seeing very encouraging results in terms of quality. When these thoughts grip me:
Sometimes I look at the small details in children's rooms:
A sourdough bread recipe brought home from school...
A stitch in red on a cream-coloured fabric...
A fabric playmate or a piece of wood fibre stuck to their hand...
At that moment, I ask myself:
Does a perfect ‘5’ on the report card make me happier?
Or is it seeing my child gain the skills to stand on their own two feet and connect with life in the future?
Of course, I have a lot to say when it comes to education in our country, but for now, let's put a comma on this topic and return to my museum experience related to ‘learning by doing and living’.
This concept, embedded in the school curriculum, continues to be practised in daily life. While browsing the Making Museum's workshops ‘for adults,’ I witnessed that those who wish can make a reservation here with a group of friends and design a shoe, produce wooden products, and have a good time in workshops that are set up in the true sense of the word. I saw how this idea transformed the concept of the ‘museum’ from a passive viewing experience into active participation. There is also another interesting aspect here: people raised with this philosophy, even as they grow older, develop the habit of doing the tasks of daily life themselves, without delegating them to others. Renovations, repairs, production... They try to do everything with their own hands because the essence of their education system is to teach them to ‘stand on their own two feet’ at an early age. Learning in this way becomes not only a mental process but also a physical, emotional and experiential one. Of course, it could be said that this reflects the Western understanding of individualism. From another perspective, one could criticise that all these processes distance society from a culture of mutual aid – although it is possible to say that a culture of solidarity is systematically maintained in many different ways – but it would not be wrong to say that this situation also fosters strong self-confidence, a reliance on one's own labour, and the habit of being able to live without depending on others. This is precisely where the power of education lies: skills embedded in life shape a person's identity and freedom. It should not be forgotten that education is not merely the transfer of knowledge; it is the art of preparing people for life. True learning blossoms not only between pen and paper, but also between bread and soil, between hand and heart.
