“Can we pleassseee have class outside?”

This was often the question I found myself asking my teachers in elementary and middle school. However, as I have begun my career in higher education, I have found it to be a socially unacceptable request. Why is that the case? I mean, it seems like almost everyone I know at Wesleyan is an environmentalist. Many of my friends here find themselves able to relax more outside. Plus, I know quite a few hikers and campers on this campus.

If you’re reading this and you’re one of the very lucky few saying, “What do you mean you don’t get to have class outside? My 1:20 just met on Foss Hill!” Well, I’m so happy for you, and I, too, would like to experience the recent beautiful May sunshine.

For me, the importance of having class outside goes beyond having a change of space and scenery. Rather, it invites a new way of thinking. I am a firm believer that the physical spaces we enter shape how we talk, act, and present ourselves. In fact, an action research project showed that learning in a round-shaped space helped to dismantle power structures found in conventional classrooms.

If we are only learning in square-shaped rooms with a hierarchy of rows with chairs and a Professor standing in the center, then our ability to honestly be ourselves is hindered. We begin to feel pressured to speak in perfect sentences with neat and tailored ideas so we can please our peers and the person at the focal point of the room. I would even say we forget that we are all just human beings when we enter these spaces. We forget that we make mistakes, we forget that people aren’t walking dictionaries, we forget that we are all just learning! Being outside liberates us from the subliminal messages that are embedded into these traditional classrooms. When we’re outside, we are reminded that we are part of a larger, more human world where making mistakes is normal. Being confined to an isolated learning space creates an academic bubble. A bubble where we curate a version of ourselves that might not be true to the self we represent to the people outside of that classroom. In having class outside, I truly believe we can be more authentic. 

Another key benefit of having class outside is that there is freedom of movement, which would otherwise be hindered inside the classroom. I mean, chairs, desks, and backpacks are physically organized in a way that makes it difficult to leave if you need to do something as trivial as go to the bathroom, so being able to stretch your whole body out is not realistic. If we don’t want students to zone out, we need to add movement to the agenda, and having class outside is a feasible way to accomplish that. I believe movement in the classroom could even result in having other ways to express your thoughts besides words. You could express yourself through dance or an outdoor art project, or even use objects in nature to explain your opinion on a complicated topic in last night’s reading. Therefore, free of the pressures of traditional classroom environments, having class outside would be a rich, and even accommodating, learning experience for those who have trouble being the first person to raise their hand.

One of the things that inhibits me from walking up to my professors and asking to have class outside is wanting to respect their lesson plan, which often tends to be a PowerPoint presentation. But I am also worried they will perceive me as an immature elementary schooler with an unrealistic desire. But is it really unrealistic to want to have my learning occur outside of the classroom? Is it really immature for someone to speak up when they feel like their education and the education of their peers could be improved if we weren’t in a square-shaped room? I’m not so sure.

I’m an education studies minor, and a key theme that’s been reiterated to me all semester is that learning doesn’t just happen in the classroom. It happens constantly, all around us, and all the time. We need to take that principle and translate it into practice. Class outside isn’t just for third-graders learning about butterflies; it’s for anyone who wants to learn anything without the pressure of the inside space.

Zara Skolnik is a member of the class of 2026 and can be reached at zskolnik@wesleyan.edu.