Tenting times

I shoudl have written testing, but then you wouldn’t really have had any idea what this post was about.

This week in Forest School, we embarked on the noble art of shelter-building. And by "noble," I mean we survived the biting winds while figuring out how not to tie ourselves into human pretzels with all the rope.

From our tiniest Reception learners to our big kids in Year Six (and our mini adventurists in our After School Club), everyone had a crack at creating a structure to keep out the elements.

Spoiler alert: some shelters wouldn’t have kept out a curious mouse, but it’s not about the result. It’s about the gloriously sneaky learning that happened along the way.

Start small, they say. And that’s exactly what our Reception children did. Their mission? To craft warm, cozy homes for mini-beasts (you know, bugs and other tiny critters not known for their real estate demands). Armed with Y-sticks and scrap materials they foraged from the ground, they set to work like tiny architects.

And here’s the best part. Did they realise they were learning about proportions, balance, and perseverance as their bases inevitably toppled a few times? Not a chance. That’s the magic of it all. One moment they’re shoving leaves into their pockets and the next, they’re learning how to protect a hypothetical beetle from bad weather. Learning through osmosis at its finest.

From Mini-Beast Hotels to Hobbit-Hole Mansions

Moving up through the year groups, the shelters got bigger, and so did the imaginations. Year one and two built "waterproof" shelters (that were waterproof mainly through crafty water pouring) and year six then started to create Anderson shelters - following on their learning in school.

We tend to show them a knot or two to get started, giving them a good base to get going, but then as I'm fairly sure one of the children paid attention... They had bigger dreams than listening to my practical advice. And the results? No two shelters were the same. Some were tall overhead towers; others were low to the ground like you’d need a limbo champion to crawl in. (Or maybe these kids are all training to be ninjas. Who knows?).

Knot Exactly Easy

Now, let's address knot-tying because, frankly, it didn’t come naturally to everyone. "Why do we need knots? Can’t we just throw stuff together?" someone asked. And to those kids, thank you for proving my point. From the ones who looped endlessly (a sort of squiggly mess optimistically called "securing the structure"), to those whose knots could probably tow a car (and took a while to untie at the end of our session!), they all learned something.

Why bother with knots, though? Why indeed! It’s problem-solving in disguise. When their best attempt at a granny knot couldn’t hold up under "wind conditions" (a.k.a., their friend shaking the whole thing as hard as possible), they either abandoned ship or tweaked their plan. They realised failure wasn’t the end of the line but just another step. That’s a life lesson for you right there, and they didn’t even see it coming.

Time for the Water Test

Building the shelters was fun, sure, but testing them?

That’s where things got competitive. Waterproofness was the ultimate trial. Could their precious creations survive a good splash of “rain” (generously provided by our volunteers and a very jug-like watering can)?

The reactions were priceless. There were cheers when water rolled off like it was sliding off a duck’s back, and there were groans when the first droplet hit the ground inside the shelter. "It’s still better than the house I built in Minecraft," one child proclaimed. Whatever the outcome, every group walked away totally owning their results, insisting they knew it wasn’t meant to be “completely dry” anyway.

We’re Not Just Building Shelters, Folks

Here’s the thing about Forest School shelters. At first glance, it looks like the kids are just mucking around. But behind it all, they’re learning things they don’t even realise. They’re understanding how to plan, collaborate, fail, and try again. (And, to be fair, they’re learning not to swing tarps around like capes while shouting, “Look, I’m Super Shelter!” That’s character development too.)

Above all, they’re learning how to figure things out for themselves. These knots and sticks might not land them a job in engineering, but who knows? Maybe one day they'll find themselves somewhere needing to make something work, and they’ll think back to forests, wind, and that dodgy shelter that still managed to keep out half the rain.

Want to book onto our Easter Forest School Sessions in Saltdean and Parkwood? You can do that just here.