Definitely a Trip

Rarely in a field

I have definitely written about the last days of school before, including the time that a student told me the bus ride to the field trip was “a waste of [his] time.” I have also written about field trips before, albeit from a particularly bloody point of view. I haven’t, however, broken down the process of a field trip to demonstrate the utter insanity of such a challenge.

1. The first step for a field trip is deciding if/when/where to go. We were told at the beginning of this year that there wasn’t a lot of money for field trips, so at first we were thinking about virtual field trips as there are numerous museums around the country that offer them. Our music teacher arranged for 4th and 5th graders to go to a gathering of elementary schools for a "Link Up" concert with Carnegie Hall which was super cool, and then one of our 5th grade teachers partnered with our Anishinaabe Education Department to get tickets for 4th and 5th graders to see Buckets and Boards, and wrote to the theater for a bus grant so we only had to ask for a few dollars from each of our families. Finally, an incredible friend and former mentor sent me a donation that would almost cover a bus to somewhere fairly nearby, so my teammate and I decided to try to plan something simple and outdoors for those last weeks of school.

2. Did you know that the U.S. Army Corp of Engineers is responsible for over 400 lake and river projects that provide recreational opportunities? Did you know that they have education programs that teach kids about public land and national parks and water safety, among other things? Did you know that they run the Every Kid Outdoors program, that gives 4th graders and their families a pass for free access to national parks for the entirety of their 4th grade year? I knew some of this, but not all. Luckily, one of our third grade teachers — Billy’s third grade teacher, Mrs. Buell — has a husband (Mr. Buell, obviously) who works for the Corp, and specifically at the Pokegama Dam, which happens to be a 15 minute bus ride from our school. I called the wonderful Park Ranger Megan, who told me that YES they had programs for kids, YES we could eat our lunches under the pavilion, and YES they were so excited to have us during the last week of May.

3. 6 weeks before the planned trip, I started an email conversation with our bus garage. Mark is so patient with me, answering my questions and then reminding me to fill out the form on the district website just as he does every time. He approved the form and secured a driver, and he would bill the school after the trip.

4. 3 weeks before the trip, we figured out exactly how much of the bus that the donation would cover, then sent a note home to our families with details and asking for a few dollars to supplement. It’s at this point that the students learned about the trip, and the metaphorical wheels come off the metaphorical bus. Because, Dear Readers, how many of those initial notes do you suppose made it into an adult’s hands? Spoiler alert: about 25%, give or take 15%.

5. Over the next few days, I print off many more copies of the field trip note. Somehow, each day, 3-4 kids ask if I have one for them because they “didn’t get one.”

6. Money starts coming in, trickle trickle. Oh families of the world, I see you — I have been on the receiving end of MOMINEEDFIVEDOLLARSFORTHEFIELDTRIPTOMORROWORTHEYWILLMAKEMESTAYBACKATSCHOOLANDDOMATH!!!!!!!! and even though that is never true and we never even mention whether a specific kid has or hasn’t brought money, I totally understand the anxiety. I think that our schools should have enough money to take kids on these tremendous, real-world, educational field trips. But the state and federal governments don’t agree with me, so thank you from the bottom of my heart for finding a few wrinkled ones and a handful of quarters to help us out. We are on the same team, and I appreciate you.

7. The week before the field trip, we send a reminder note home. In BOLD type this time around, we say things like families may join us for lunch only and students must bring a lunch or request one from school and RAIN OR SHINE, DRESS APPROPRIATELY!

8. Two days before the field trip, we begin talking to our students about the field trip.

   1. We talk about what we should wear: “It’s going to be hot and sunny, so shorts are fine but wear hats and bring sunscreen.” “But what if I can’t wear sunscreen?” “Then talk to your mom and find a light shirt to wear.”

   2. We talk about what we might do: “We’re going to learn about the dam, and go for a hike in the woods.” “I’ve been in the woods!” “Are we going to go swimming?” “Are we going to stay there all day?” “What time are we coming back?” “How many days are left of school?”

   3. We talk about how we should behave: “Should we climb trees?” “No!” Should we go in the water? “No!” “Should we run around with our friends when the park ranger is talking?” “No!” Should we bring toys? “No!”

   4. I ask if there are any questions: “How long are we going to be there?” “Where are we going?” “Are we eating lunch there?” “Can we sit with our friends on the bus?” When is it?”

9. Just replay #8 the day before we go. But add in, “My grandma wants to know if she can go?”

10. The night before, my teammate and I are exchanging texts at 8:30pm, figuring out that we were telling parents different times for lunch (oops) and making plans for grabbing the first aid kit from the nurse in the morning. I lay awake for awhile, trying to decide which shoes to wear, and whether I could go to the church choir potluck the next night with my baseball cap on from the field trip or if I should plan for a quick shower, and which of our students was going to “accidentally” fall in the Mississippi River.

11. The morning of the field trip, I get to school and write on the Morning Message that students need to go pick up their bag lunches from the cafeteria, and fill their water bottles. To demonstrate how well they pay attention to my morning messages, 7 of them ask me if they’re supposed to go get their lunches. I advise 3-4 students to leave their jackets/sweatshirts behind because the temperature is already in the 70s, but I am ignored. I am asked uncountable times, 1) when we’re leaving, 2) when we’re coming back, and 3) what time we’re eating lunch.

12. I ask the class to line up, and then tell them they can be in twos or threes on the bus. “Can I stand next to them now?” “Can we sit with the other class?” “Do we have to sit in the same seats on the ride back?”

13. We load the bus — just sit down, it’s only a 15 minute ride! — and the kid behind me drops his metal water bottle and it rolls several seats forward. It is returned to him and he promptly drops it again. At this point I tell him that if he drops it again, he’s not getting it back. Have I mentioned I’m crabby on field trips?

14. We arrive at the dam, and my teammate (with the two other adults who agreed to go with us) wrangle the 50+ kids over to the pavilion while I go in search of park rangers. My search produces three rangers — including the aforementioned Mr. Buell and Megan, along with Brian-who-hasn’t-done-much-fishing-but-is-in-charge-of-the-fishing-station — who ask us to divide the students into three groups. We tell them to get in a line so they all stand next to their besties (aka partners in crime). We are the meanest, so we make them count off by threes. Much whining commences as they separate from their dearest bosom buddies (with whom they were fighting with yesterday at recess) and go to their first station.

15. Our first station was out on the dam with Ranger Megan, way up to the top of the structure, where two girls discovered that they REALLY don’t like heights. Then we played nature BINGO as we walked the hiking trail on the other side of the river, and the kids found worms, spiders, mushrooms, animal tracks, butterflies, and moss… though the “animal tracks” looked suspiciously like somebody’s sneakers. I only offered/threatened to hold three hands — the absolute worst fate for a 4th-almost-5th grader — and then I was rather sassily questioned how I would manage to walk single file back across the dam holding three hands.

16. Mr. Buell ran our second station, and taught us about the structural engineering part of the dam, and then split the kids into three groups to try to build a mini version. I was impressed by how well these groups listened to each others’ ideas, and how long their dams actually held water! I found the fact that Mr. Buell tricked them into using clay sand — which is essentially kitty litter — terribly entertaining.

17. At this point, I was contacted by one of the brave adults who came with us to tell me there had been a Major Injury. One of my little angels — who I’ve watched run into at least two doors this year — did a little something to her knee. Brave Adult said, “Look, we hike next. If you think you can make it, great. But I’m not carrying you out of the woods.” She joined my group for the remainder. This was also the point where we started getting questions like, “When is lunch?” “When are we going back to school?” “Is it lunchtime yet?” “Will we have to do math when we get back?” “Do we have to sit in our same seats on the bus?” “Can we eat lunch yet?”

18. Our third station was the previously referenced fishing station. Listen, how cool is it that the Corp just has all of these fishing rods with simple reels for kids to borrow? I am telling you, get to know this organization! Their symbol is a castle which is so appropriate because I think they’re heroes of mine! Anyway, Brian of the Fishing Station looked over at me, his third group, and said, “I didn’t know there were this many things that could go wrong with fishing poles.” The kids were having success at the same time as Brian was untangling fishing line, adjusting reels, talking to one of my students about worms, and getting a fishhook out of a tree, so I ended up holding a lot of fish while I removed the hooks from their mouths. I’m not going to lie, it was awesome.

19. We left Brian with his giant, tangled mess and headed up to the pavilion to eat lunch. Mr. Buell asked if he and the other rangers could give us a presentation on lifejackets, so we attempted to keep the kids quiet enough to hear some of that. We handed out the ribbons for Track and Field that happened last week, then let the kids go explore the playground for 10 minutes while we all looked at each other and laughed maniacally. We told each other stories from our groups, and came to the conclusion that these poor kids had to go on a field trip with the meanest women at King School. What are the chances?

20. We got everybody back on the bus — in their same seats, of course, because we are the Meanest Women of King School — and endured 15 minutes of “The Wheels on the Bus,” and “If You’re Happy and You Know It,” and “Baby Shark.” There was still 40 minutes left of school and you know what? I put on Rocky and Bullwinkle and Friends. I’m not made of stone.

I think what I have failed to express is this overwhelming stress and anxiety that you’re going to lose one of those kids that permeates the entire outing. We are very, very aware at all times of our responsibility and privilege to be taking care of these little people, and days like this are a little extra exhausting because of it.

It was an amazing day, though. The kids had a blast and I would do this particular trip again in a minute. I would, however, remember to put their names on all of their brown-bag lunches.

Thanks for reading.

Love, Susie