Beyond Your Classroom Walls

A few years ago, I noticed something a few weeks into the school year: The beginning-of-the-year excitement had worn off, my students were restless, and even I was feeling a bit weighed down in the classroom. I decided to try something to shake us out of it: I took the class outside.

Within minutes, everything shifted. The discussion on ecosystems turned lively, hands pointed to examples in the nearby garden, and students began connecting textbook ideas to the living world around them. The same group that had been disengaged indoors was suddenly animated, curious, and focused.

That day reinforced something I’ve long believed as a teacher of physical education, health, environmental science, and humanities: The outdoors isn’t a break from learning, it’s one of its most powerful forms.

When we treat outdoor spaces as extensions of the classroom, we create opportunities for every subject area to flourish. We tap into curiosity, movement, connection, and well-being, things our students (and teachers) need to flourish.

Every subject belongs outdoors

I’ve often heard colleagues say, “That’s great for PE or geography, but it wouldn’t work in my subject.” The truth is that any curriculum can be enriched by moving beyond four walls. It just requires intention and creativity.

There are simple ways teachers across disciplines can start.

English: Use the outdoors as inspiration for descriptive writing, character sketches, or metaphor. Students can write from the perspective of the landscape or tell the story of a single leaf.

Mathematics: Measure angles in playground equipment, calculate the perimeter of the garden beds, or analyze shadows to understand trigonometry.

Sciences: Conduct biodiversity audits, test soil pH, or observe microclimates around the school.

Humanities: Explore how geography, culture, and sustainability intersect in your own community.

Art and design: Draw natural forms, create eco-sculptures, or photograph patterns and textures.

One of my colleagues does exactly this with her middle school English classes—she takes them outside for creative writing. On one occasion, students chose one natural object, a leaf, stone, or piece of bark, and wrote from its perspective. The shift in setting and the tangible nature of the item helped even the most reluctant writers make a start and find a voice; one student later told her it was the first time creative writing had “felt real.”

The goal isn’t to change the curriculum, but to shift the environment. When lessons happen outdoors, students take ownership of their learning—they move, talk, explore, and make meaning collaboratively.

Designing and using outdoor spaces

Outdoor learning doesn’t require expensive infrastructure. Many of the most successful experiences come from using what’s already available—an underused courtyard, a patch of grass, or a shaded veranda.

Here are some guiding principles that have worked in my own school:

• Start small: Choose one lesson or topic to trial outdoors every other week. Reflect and build from there.
• Use what you have: A whiteboard easel, clipboards, or chalk on concrete can transform any space into a classroom.
• Design for flexibility: Movable seating, natural boundaries, and shade encourage varied use throughout the year.
• Invite student input: Ask students how they’d like to use the space. When they help plan and care for it, they value it more.
• Think about accessibility: Ensure that all students can participate comfortably and safely, regardless of mobility or sensory needs.
• Collaborate with colleagues: Shared use helps outdoor learning become embedded, not dependent on one enthusiastic teacher.

Some schools I’ve worked with have gone further, creating “learning gardens,” making outdoor reading circles, or even integrating sustainability projects into the design of new playgrounds. But the key idea is simple: The outdoors should not be separate from learning; it is a source of learning.

Improving Student Well-being through the outdoors

As a health and PE teacher, I’ve seen firsthand how the outdoors supports students’ physical and mental well-being. Movement increases blood flow and focus, exposure to nature calms the nervous system, and open spaces invite social connection.

Outdoor lessons can double as opportunities for mindfulness, listening to ambient sounds, noticing patterns in leaves, or reflecting on how the environment mirrors mood and energy. Students who struggle indoors often thrive outside; the shift in environment levels the playing field and offers new ways to succeed.

When we design learning that integrates both movement and reflection, we teach students that well-being isn’t an add-on, it’s embedded in how and where we learn.

From school grounds to stewardship

Outdoor classrooms also nurture a deeper sense of responsibility for the world. When students see their school environment as a living system, not just a backdrop, they begin to care for it.

In one project, my seventh-grade students conducted a biodiversity audit of the school grounds. Their findings led to the creation of native planting zones, designed and maintained by student teams. The impact extended beyond science lessons; it influenced attitudes across the school. Students began picking up litter unprompted and discussing ways to reduce waste.

A call to step outside

Imagine if every teacher spent just one lesson a week outdoors. What might change in engagement, energy, and empathy? Outdoor learning doesn’t require perfect weather or elaborate plans. It requires willingness to step out, to notice, to connect. When we do, we rediscover that learning is, at its core, an act of exploration.

As educators, we spend hours designing lessons that spark curiosity. Sometimes, the most powerful spark is just outside the classroom door.