It was the fall of 1985, and I was a few weeks into the second grade when my parents grew concerned. I was returning home from school decidedly miserable. My teacher was strict. Her classroom felt rigid and stifling. As creatures of the ’60s, their impulse was to find something different — radically different.
I still remember meeting Brent for the first time in the basement of his home where he set up the school: tall as a tree, thick glasses, tweed jacket…. Brent was on a mission to revolutionize the way children were taught. What if you trusted kids’ innate desire to learn? What if you empowered them to follow their curiosity, and celebrated their unbridled creativity? What if you made the world their classroom? He had an Apple IIe desktop computer whirring away in his office. “Computers will change everything,” he announced.
My parents, with only some trepidation, signed me up.
For my part, I was all in.
Formative experience
Even though I attended Wondertree for just three years, from grades two to five, the experience was profoundly formative. Gone were school bells, wooden desks, chalkboards, recess, playground taunts and sterile cafeterias. Our days at Wondertree began at a large, round table with a 12-pointed multi-coloured geometric shape painted on its surface. We participated in a kind of show-and-tell that, in my recollection, could last hours. Brent had a tremendous breadth of knowledge and interests. We’d just as easily talk about refillable lead pencils as the shape of a fern leaf, evolution or Gandhi.
We, the learners, chose our curriculum: Japanese, the martial art Wu Shu, woodwork, pottery, speed typing, computer programming, drama, dance, meditation, and juggling. More often than not, our classroom was out in the world: Lighthouse Park, Stanley Park, the anthropology museum, and the science centre. We got season passes to Expo ’86 and managed to go to every country’s exhibition. We would observe construction sites, chase ambulances, and sometimes Brent would just drive through the city and let us call out “left!” right!” or “straight!” to see what kind of adventure we would stumble upon.
And all along the way, we would stop and reflect on what we learned… and on how we learned what we learned… and on what other questions that learning raised. We were at once subjects and researchers on this educational experiment. It was not infrequent that a news reporter, academic or educator would come to observe for the day. Brent challenged us to push ourselves and not feel limited by age or ability. I felt a profound sense of security and confidence under his guidance and was inspired by his sense of adventure and curiosity. The experience very much shaped who I am today.
Wondertree taught me…
I remember the peculiar feeling of re-entering the public school system. I could see the strings: the human-made choices behind the institutional buildings, grading systems, dirty water fountains, and hierarchies. Maybe because of that knowledge, I did just fine playing along.
Wondertree taught me to follow my curiosity and to trust that it would lead somewhere fascinating. It taught me to question systems and the adults who sat too comfortably inside them. It taught me to celebrate and nurture creativity. It’s probably no coincidence that I eventually ended up in journalism.
I currently live in Toronto with my partner Athena and two kids, aged 6 and 9. I worked for a decade at the CBC as a producer and then a host in radio and podcasting. Today, I run a podcast studio called USG Audio for NBC Universal where we focus on limited-run documentary series. This year we won a Pulitzer Prize and a Peabody Prize for one of our series, You Didn’t See Nothin.
I did not follow a straight path to get here. There were stops along the way in acting, community arts, and teaching playwriting to youth in care. At times, my life felt like an epic game of “Left! Right! Straight!” but Wondertree gave me the confidence that the journey would be worthwhile.
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