Teaching on Skis

By Aliesje King,
Graduate Student

It is strange, now, as the snow begins to melt I reflect on the winter teaching experience. It was an adventure to say the least. Not only did we have to recall all the new knowledge about snow science we recently obtained, but we had to teach efficiently when the temps were below the 0° C mark. The students couldn’t wander about on scientific adventures as they had in the fall, it was just too cold. To add to this, not only was the air frigid, but we also had these funny contraptions on our feet: skis.

Usually our weeks of winter teaching began with a scramble of measuring, explaining, falling, laughing and re-explaining…we dedicated the first two hours to ski instruction. Some days the sun shone, we played games, and bliss filled those couple hours. Other days the 120 minutes were filled with deep sighs, many “I can’t get up”’s and a learning experience as much for me as it was for my students. I discovered on these days things like: taking a group of new skiers all the way to upper meadow was not the gentlest introduction to skiing. Or, in juxtaposition, how students love to brag about how far their group went as compared to others. I enjoyed watching students get excited about small down slopes and loved when they were much better skiers than I, which lead to me discovering new tactics from their knowledge.

One group of high schoolers and I skied during their choice time to the Old Hunter Ranch (West of TSS, the homestead where our dining lodge was originally). It was such a delight to talk about history and art and life as we stared at the old buildings. I loved tracking wolves on skis, learning new sick skiing terms, watching students help each other up, and teach one another about the difference between putting your skis in a pizza shape or lining them up like French fries.

There was also a great array of teachable moments on skis. We could talk about adaptations, about how we Homo sapiens are not adapted biologically for the snow, so we cruise through the winter on these pieces of wood. To my knowledge it was the Swedes who invented these winter shoes 4500 years ago. What a treat it was to teach and fall in with a more modern version on my own feet. I enjoy the “modern amenities” of my skis, and recognize how really the whole concept of skiing is a relatively new idea. We upright creatures have eons ahead of us, when we consider how long the snow shoe hair has wandered around on their winter-adapted feet.

Teaching on Skis (once called teaching in the winter) was actually Learning on Skis for me. I watched communication grow, students challenge themselves and each other, adventure happen, and education evolve. The glory of winter reflected through the tall trees, the questioning students and the poke and glide of my 1970’s Karhus.