I’m not a gun guy.

I did grow up in rural Western NY though so I did grow up around guns. I have many relatives that are… gun enthusiasts. I dont hunt though and well,  I guess nearly etting blow away when you came into the house after dad goes to bed one time will have you rethink how effective they are as home defense tools.  My son asked me one time why I don’t have a gun for protection and my response is that I have stopped just as many home invasions as people that I know have carried for 45 years.

All of which makes me seem like I’m anti-gun which I’m not. I just think that our country should have some reasonable restrictions to balance the “responsibilities” side of the “right and responsibilities” ledger. And here I go dipping into political debates when what I want to talk about is going skeet shooting with my 2 older boys and their grandpa.

As it turns out my eldest is a crack shot. He hit about 75% of his shots his first time out. My youngest hit 0%. Yet, they were both thoroughly engaged with the experience. They patiently and attentively listened to some basic safety instruction. They were praising each other and were giving each other pointers. It was an overall wonder experience (well, except for the sore shoulder the next day). The positive interactions between the two and the 2 hours of attention got me wondering what ot was bout this experience that made it so engaging.

Novelty

The biggest element of engagement must have been novelty. This was the first time either of the boys had been allowed to hold a gun, mich less shoot one. There is something exhilarating about firsts. First dance, first kiss, first time driving, first trip to a waterpark. It is shiny and new. Fortnite players are going through the same thing right now with the release of the new Chapter 3 map. Overtime though novelty wears off.

Fiero

There is an exhilarating feeling when you finally hit one of those darn clay pigeons. It is difficult and when you do hit it there is a delightful little explosion of bright orange clay pidgeon. My oldest called it little fireworks. That moment of exhilaration of finally overcoming a difficult task is Fiero. That firework of a celebration is a visual representation of that internal feeling.

“Access”

Or maybe Power? At this particular range we had to take golf carts between various shooting positions. My 8 year old wanted to drive the cart because he wasn’t old enough. That’s right – too you to drive a golf cart but old enough to shoot a death stick… The skeet shooting must have felt like having access to a new club. They were in a special group that was allowed to hold the deadly weapon. They were trusted with access to this power and understood the gravity of the situation.

Collaboration / Relatedness

This was a family bonding opportunity. Grandpa was there. I was there. A close family friend was shooting with us. We were our own little guild of skeet shooters. We quickly developed our own little language and in jokes. Someone would hit a clay pidgeon and someone would shout “we eat to tonight” or someone would always double check with grandpa that the safety was on because he pointed out a hole in one of the shelter ceilings.

Classroom Implications?

Um, no guns.

But the lessons apply. Provide opportunities for novel experiences and exploration of new ideas. Be aware though that novelty fades quickly. Be ready to ride the wave but have other elements ready when the interest wanes. Give opportunities for difficult challenges and don’t be too quick to do the work for a student. Feedback is important but there is value in the struggle. When successes are achieved – real success – give quick but meaningful and specific acknowledgment. Lastly, school cannot only be about work. Students spend the majority of their day in our buildings – 6 hours of class time in my building. They need time to bond and laugh and build community in an organic way. Demanding unerring efficiency will only lead to substandard work and irritable people.

Atleast, that’s what I got out if a day shooting guns with my boys…