Living remote: what it has taught me about possibility.

It’s finally raining. After many weeks of disappointing dry time our farm is soaking up the much needed moisture. The birds are all celebrating- if only you could hear them! They seem to be saying, “We’re going to be ok! We can build our nests! The rain will bring the insects! Baby birds are a-go!!”

The possibilities that rain brings...

For me it means my water tanks will be filling. I won’t have to pay for a truck to deliver a load of town water. My garden will start to grow again. It has been waiting patiently, looking very drab, losing all of it’s feeble spring flush to the kangaroos. My husband will be able to grade our driveway; four kilometres of rocky, dusty track needs a little moisture before the Bobcat can smooth out the bumps and ruts. My neighbors will be smiling today. Their crops may not need to be baled up as cattle feed after all.

Many things are possible after rain.

I’ve been thinking about possibility today, as I work on designing a Future Learning Space (FLS) for Kakuma refugee camp in Kenya. A lot of my ideas have stemmed from my own experience, living remote.

We don’t live very far away from town, but we are totally disconnected. We are completely self sufficient and rely only on our own systems for keeping our house and farm operational.

Our house is run solely on solar. We have batteries in a garden shed to keep us going at night or on over cast days.

Rain water falls onto our roof and into tanks for us to drink, cook and wash with. When it runs dry we buy it in. Rain waters the garden. Sometimes.

Our heating comes from a wood fire and the dead, fallen logs from the bushland around our house.

We cook, and heat our water, with gas, but we have to drive to town with our gas bottles on the ute to have them refilled. When they run out, it’s our fault.

From our house in the hills we can’t see another light. Our nearest neighbors are kilometres away. Few people drop in, except for the brave census man, a neighbor on a horse looking for his lost rams, and the police came once. Oh, and the Jehovah’s witnesses came- I gave them a cuppa for their efforts.

And yet... I have never been more connected. Through the marvel that is mobile broadband, (no chance of NBN here, and they say that satellite is rubbish), I can connect to a university in Melbourne. I can be taught, have conversations, explore websites, make websites, join a PLN on Twitter, make a PLN of my own. I am not disadvantaged.

I can sit on my hill with my laptop, powered by the sun, connected to a mobile network that links me to my lecturer’s office in Melbourne. I can see him and hear him. But most importantly- I have been transformed by his teaching. My own teaching has been changed forever. My own students are progressing faster and with more inspiration and creativity than ever before. They are not disadvantaged.

(Our house 16 years ago- when we first bought the farm.)

Connectedness in a remote location transforms life, brings possibility.

Thanks to the incredible advancements in Information and Communication Technologies (ICT), remoteness need not prevent the transformative power of education.

In my FLS I want to see connectedness brought to remote refugee camps. I want to enable a portal to learning to be brought into places where it is needed to equip local teachers to be able to transform their learning. The liminal space that all refugees find themselves in must feel terrifying. Not knowing how they can move beyond the present situation. Not even being able to imagine something different. Not having options open to them to explore. Connectedness can change that. The technology is there. The resources have been developed. The combination of them together could be incredibly powerful.

The possibility for local teachers in refugee camps to train where they are is empowering. The possibility of accessing courses that address the issues that they face is transformational. The possibility of being able to remain, continue and commit to where they are, and still attain qualifications to teach the children they love could change the world.

A learning space; that can be brought in quickly, inexpensively and easily; with its own solar power source; connected to a 3G network; filled with essential ICT equipment in a portable format; housing local mentors and trainers; with access to numerous training providers around the world is the essence of my FLS - a Pop Up University.

Pop Up University. We can walk with our refugee colleagues, towards their future. A future where the refugee children of Kenya can have a quality education. They can see the possibility of future education. Their disadvantage can be left behind.

Stick with me... I’ll explain more in my FLS blog.