My visit to West Lake was an unforgettable experience. The day started with that quintessential fall weather, cool enough for the car heater but warm enough outside for just a cozy sweater. Classic “sweater weather,” as they say. When I parked my car, my eyes were immediately drawn to the lake, which mirrored its surroundings so perfectly that it looked like glass. Calling it beautiful doesn’t quite capture its essence—it was astonishing, almost magical, with a tranquillity that invited me to pause and take it all in.

As I tuned into my surroundings, I noticed the melody of birds flying overhead, the hum of distant conversations, and the faint sound of cars passing by. The sun shone brightly in a sky so vividly blue it felt unreal. The crisp air brushing against my skin and the cold touch of the lake’s water grounded me in the moment. It was peaceful, a serene backdrop for a day of learning and reflection.

We began with a Land Acknowledgement. Each member of my group (Sheila, Sydney, Brett, and I) shared a unique acknowledgement. It was a meaningful way to honour the unceded ancestral lands of the Lheidli T’enneh Nation where we live, work, and play. Here is the acknowledgment I shared:

I acknowledge that we are situated on the unceded ancestral lands of the Lheidli T’enneh, on whose land we live, work, and play. I am grateful to my employers for providing me the opportunity to thrive on this land that offers safety and abundance.

Our learning transitioned from small group discussions to a larger circle, where all the teacher candidates shared their teaching metaphors. It was inspiring to see the creativity and thoughtfulness everyone brought to their metaphors. Some shared dice, dinosaur pens, artwork, photographs, a dog, and many more fascinating objects. My metaphor was a stuffed panda bear, a story I’ve explored in detail in another blog (feel free to check it out if you’re curious!).

Sharing these metaphors was an emotional experience, as it required a level of vulnerability from each of us. It was a reminder that knowing ourselves is the foundation of our journey as educators. Amid our differences, one thing was clear, we all share a passion for teaching and learning. This passion unites us in our collective goal. A commitment to growth, patience, and the transformative process of education. I feel grateful to be on this journey with such a diverse, humble, and open-minded group of peers.

In smaller groups, we delved into Parker Palmer’s The Heart of a Teacher. Our discussion centered on two key components he highlights: identity and integrity. Identity is about understanding who you are, your feelings, and your motivations. Integrity is about staying true to what you believe is good and just. Palmer emphasized that self-knowledge is essential for effective teaching:

“Knowing my subject and my students depends heavily on self-knowledge. When I do not know myself, I cannot know who my students are.”

This insight resonated deeply with me, reinforcing the idea that authenticity is the cornerstone of meaningful teaching.

Later, we integrated the Walking Curriculum into our exploration. Using our sense of sight, we searched for shapes in the environment. It was surprising how much geometry we could find outdoors! Even the garbage bin became an object of study, we identified squares, rectangles, triangles, and even circles from the screws. It was a simple yet engaging activity that reminded me how easily outdoor learning can make concepts come alive.

As we wrapped up the day, our group reconvened in a big circle to share two words that summed up our experience. Many chose playful or heartfelt words, while the most popular word was “HOT”, not because we were uncomfortable but because the bright sun and our dark clothing made us acutely aware of the weather.

Looking back, our time at West Lake was more than just a class activity—it was an enriching, collaborative, and joyful experience. It highlighted the importance of connecting with nature, reflecting on our identities, and working together as future educators. West Lake reminded me that learning is not confined to a classroom; it thrives in the beauty of the land and the shared passion of those who walk this journey together.

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