Chook Shed Update

“This wood is holding up our lives,” says Bea, and it is true, in so many ways.

At the end of one of our Friday ‘chicken house’ sessions, and we’d almost finished building a floor together – stumps, bearers, joists, floorboards placed down, they were yet to be nailed – and all the children stood on what we had created – load testing, I told them, I said all the children of the school could stand on that floor and it’d carry their weight – and because it was a Friday, and we’re all having fun together, designing, making, working collaboratively, as team, we did our best group ‘chicken dance’.

Oh, we’ve been busy.

Apologies for no updates the past few weeks, but this is part of what we’ve been up to:

A tool quiz. I lay out all the tools we’ll be using, and quiz the children on what they’re called. They’re a smart lot, and get most of them – handsaws, tape measure, hammers, drill, pencil ruler – but some of the names elude them, are on the tip of their tongue. A spirit level. A pinch bar (though I’d take a ‘jemmy’ as an answer also, but wouldn’t accept crow bar, as Billy suggested). A clamp, chisel, wooden mallet, rubber mallet, tin snips, nail pinchers, et cetera.
We learn how to use each tool. How to respect it. What it can do. Take a handsaw, for instance, we’ve been using them a lot, and have much yet to do with them. What is this bit called? Yes, it’s the handle. And this is the blade. And what are these? Yes, the teeth, and see how they are different sizes on different saws, to cut differently. And here’s a trick: the handle and the blade can combine to measure and rule off two angles on wood: 90 degrees, and 45 degrees.
Learning how to build, how to make, how to create. “My uncle made a house out of a whole bunch of wood,” one of the children says, and I assure them this is what we’re doing. Using recycled wood; hardwoods, softwoods, to make a house, for chickens, but for so much more.

Before the children join me after inter vallo (I’ve been learning some Italian while at SKiPPS, among all the other things the students have taught me), I set up our work site, and spend time, considering. Spending time in a place, I see where the sun falls at different times of the day, where the leaves gather, I hear the drum beat from the shed next door. Later, I meet Steve, the skins-man, the drumming teacher, and tell him what I’ve been thinking: these chooks will LOVE the beat of the drums. They’ll lay eggs to the percussion. They’ll be the luckiest chooks in all of Melbourne.

I show the children how to measure and mark-up timber, and how to use a handsaw. I tell them it’s like a dance, how you need to find the rhythm. Let the blade do the work. How to place your body. Keep your head straight, your eye over the cut. They find it’s not as easy as it looks, but they all find a way. I can see the concentration, the satisfaction, the sense of achievement.

Look around, and everybody is at work.

Heads down, using the claw of a hammer, the pinch bar, nail pullers, anything we have to prise out nails, and saws to cut, and tapping out notches of wood with a chisel and timber mallet. This is industry! This is another type of learning: hands on, moving the body to move the mind.

I remind the children, often, this is a privilege to have this opportunity, to shape their school, build something for it, and they need to respect this, honour it.

At the beginning of one lesson, I give Haydon a metal file and a task to do: to file through a pesky batten screw clasped in a joist. I tell him this is a very useful tool and skill to have, especially if he ever finds himself one day in jail! I say how in the movies, people are always cutting through prison bars with a file smuggled to them inside a birthday cake! Others suggest they also always escape through vents in the roof. Our imaginations run wild as we work.

About an hour later, Hayden taps on my shoulder and presents the end of the screw with a big smile on his face.

He did it!

One of the school dad’s joins us for a session, Matt, father of Dusty, and he has an amazing looking camera, and makes us all feel like movie stars. Matt makes films. He’d heard what we’re up to, and was keen to contribute, lend a hand. Before the sessions started, I told our two student filmmakers – Poppy and Katya, they’re both doing a great job! – that Matt might be joining us, with his camera. I tell all the students how I have invited any parents to join us, how this is a whole-of-school project, a community project.

Matt arrives, and he’s one of the coolest school dads I’ve ever met (he makes me feel a bit, well, rough around the edges), and then a funny thing happens. Poppy and Katya see an opportunity! They down their cameras, and get on the tools!

Here’s a chance to use the hammers, use the saws. I comment on this, and smile, and say how all of us are many things. They are filmmakers, they are builders.

“I haven’t used a saw for so long,” says Katya. “I’m not sure how to do it.”

Other children show her how, and she’s off and running.

After last Friday’s session I text a friend, who’s a teacher at St Kilda PS, we were organising to see a film, Euphoria, screening as part of the Rising Festival, and I tell her about my session at SKiPPS. I say how a funky dad joined us, a filmmaker, and how all the children enjoyed it. And how as they went off to lunch I remained behind, finishing off the first of our four wall frames. I say how one of the students, Artzai, returned after lunch with his mother, he wanted to show her what we’ve been doing, what we’re up to.

I ask if he wants to help out with a few more jobs. He says yes.

His mum asks if she can pop over to the supermarket and pick up a few things, I say yes. I’ve plenty of cutting and drilling and nailing Artzai can do.

I text my teacher friend, telling her this. It is a long text.

Later, she replies.

“I loved reading this little snapshot – Artzai, the funky dad. This is a fine story in progress. Whenever you feel a tad flat, I hope you can draw on these experiences – they are truly remarkable”.

Happy holidays to all students, parents and teachers at SKiPPS. Our chicken house is a long way from finishing. I tell the children how so many of the best things in life take much longer than you expect. I tell them about how almost everything I do takes at least twice as long as I thought it might.

I am in no hurry. We are enjoying ourselves, we are learning, and some of these things are lifelong lessons, for all of us.

Our last session this term is on Friday. Come and say hello if you are free, would like to see what we’re making. I’ll be around from about 9.30am, packing up tools about 1.30pm. I need to go collect my youngest boy from his school. It’s his birthday, he’s turning 10, and I need to pick him and a bunch of his mates up, and he’s requested a clean ute, and I cannot be late!

Dugald Jellie