Build a Boat: A Pragmatic and Critical Educational Approach

“Why are you here?” So began my conversation with Simi, a youthful participant in the Detroit River Story Lab Skiff & Schooner boat-building program at the Dossin Great Lakes Museum on Belle Isle.

Simi and I sat outside. It was a beautiful summer day in Detroit, and while Belle Isle is an undeniably pleasant place and the museum—showcasing over 300 years of regional maritime history—a popular destination, it’s not a typical hangout spot for teens. But Simi had a specific purpose for being there.

“Because I wanna learn how to build a boat,” she said simply.

Simi and other participants spoke powerfully about the program’s unusual integration of carpentry, math, climate science, and the river’s role as an escape route to Canada for 30,000 self-emancipated Black people before the Civil War. Their observations reminded me of the foundational aspect of critical pedagogy: education must empower students to understand and navigate the societal and historical contexts in which they live.

“Interesting,” I nodded. “Is all of this important to you?”

“Yes,” Simi replied. After a second, she added, “Because I think it’s a skill we should all learn in case of an emergency.”

I paused and tried to process what I had just heard. How was building a boat necessary in case of an emergency? CPR was a life-saving skill. Driving, using a fire extinguisher, staunching a wound—these were all potentially life-saving skills. Building a wooden row boat? Not so much.

 “Do you have a driver’s license?”

“No.”

“Can you drive”?

“No.”

Aha, I thought. That is why she finds building boats so important. She has never been behind the wheels of a car. Neither has she experienced the pride in driving yourself, going where you want to go when you want to and, of course, the pride in owning a well-maintained vehicle.

I looked at Simi, who gazed out at the gentle flow of the Detroit River before her. A pair of jet skiers zoomed by and I thought of how the river makes this form of recreation possible. Beside us, under a large white tent, lay the two wooden skiffs the students were building. Their surfaces were covered with pencil markings from measurements and decorative designs, evidence of the care and creativity of the builders, who gathered in groups around the upturned hulls, cutting, drilling, and fastening.

I realized that in my present frame of mind, I was thinking of the river as a site of recreation. As such, I had considered boat-building a lesser necessity compared to skills like driving or first aid. On further reflection, though, the relevance became clear. Unlike the casual recreation I associated with the Detroit River, Simi viewed boat-building through a lens of survival—critical in light of the increasing floods due to rising sea levels or whatever other precarious situation was foremost in her mind when she made this statement to me. For Simi, learning to build a boat was not just about engaging in a craft, it was about preparing for a changing world. Rising sea levels have transformed waterways across the world from mere backdrops of recreational activity into both sources of danger and, paradoxically, potential lifelines. In this context, building a boat becomes a survival skill, a necessary response to the environmental challenges posed by climate change. This shift in my understanding highlighted the pragmatic importance of skills like boat-building in areas increasingly prone to flooding, contrasting starkly with the recreational use I had always known.

The National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration recently released a report on rising sea levels and reported that by 2050, sea levels across the USA will rise an average of 10 to 12 inches, signifying imminent and frequent coastal flooding. This means the United States is expected to experience as much sea level rise in the next 30 years as we saw over the last century. Other countries around the world have had their fair share of flooding, including but not limited to China, South America, Nigeria, Malaysia, Brazil, Japan, Indonesia, and Malawi, resulting in the deaths of many and the destruction of property accounting to billions. This factual projection necessitates a reevaluation of the skills deemed essential for future resilience.

While climate change is unlikely to significantly raise the level of the lakes like it does the oceans, the increasing frequency and intensity of storms is expected to worsen the already significant flooding issues faced by residents in low-lying areas of Detroit. This aspect of climate change adds another layer to our understanding of why skills like boat-building are becoming increasingly essential in areas prone to such environmental changes. This heightened risk, unfortunately, makes new kinds of situational awareness and technical capacity newly pertinent as a practical response to the challenges posed by our changing environment. For a teen like Simi, then, boat-building increasingly appears not just as a craft or hobby, but as a necessary skill in preparing for potential emergencies. Understanding this shift in the river’s role from recreation to a critical survival resource reflects a deeper, pragmatic recognition, that is clearly reaching young people, of the challenges posed by a changing climate.

Viewed through the lens of critical pedagogy, our educational pursuits should challenge the status quo and equip us with the tools to address emerging global challenges. The boat-building skills taught at DRSL are not merely vocational but are fundamental in fostering an empowered, aware, and prepared citizenry.

When I moved to Michigan a few years ago, I learned that you are never more than six miles away from a body of water, whether it’s a river, a lake, or one of the Great Lakes. Realizing that I was only minutes away from some kind of water that could possibly drown me, I immediately signed up for swim lessons. I did this because I believe that swimming is a life skill that could save my life or someone else’s, whether I am in Michigan or elsewhere. While not everyone will see a need to become an expert in watercraft construction, such a skillset certainly takes on a new salience in the changing world Simi and her peers find themselves in.

Her insights are an important reminder that educational programs should always strive to integrate practical skills with critical societal analysis in order not only to enhance individual capabilities but also to strengthen community resilience to environmental changes. Learning to build a boat does more than impart a practical skill; it focuses students’ attention on the importance of waterways in past, present, and future human lives. This awareness of our environmental and historical context could have numerous benefits, from increased environmental stewardship to a deeper understanding of our cultural heritage, transforming a boat-building workshop of the kind I witnessed on the island from a purely recreational activity into a crucial occasion for consciousness raising concerning our species’ increasingly precarious place on this planet.