Introduction

A new curriculum has been launched in Wales aiming to give more autonomy to teachers and allow schools’ curricula to respond to the needs of their children and local contexts (Donaldson, 2015). Schools are advised that their curricula should involve “a strong sense of place” (Davidson, 2020, p. 85) and be tailored to the needs of their local context (Education Wales, 2017). In addition, pupils’ health and wellbeing are given a higher priority in the new curriculum compared to previous curricula (Donaldson, 2020). This proritisation is achieved by “creating health and wellbeing as both a driving force and one of the six Areas of Learning and Experience” (Donaldson, 2020, p.28). Aligned with Wales’ Well-being of Future Generations (Wales) Act (Welsh Government, 2015) the new curriculum intends to aid future human and planetary wellbeing with the concept of sustainability at its core (Lewis, 2020). In keeping with previous Welsh Government legislation (Estyn, 2014) there is an emphasis on the value of locality and community and a recognition of the impact education has on societal wellbeing (Lewis, 2020).

One of the key words in the new curriculum is the Welsh word, cynefin. Cynefin (pronounced kuh-nev-in) is a word that has no direct English translation. It is defined in the Welsh dictionary as “habitat” as a noun, or “acquainted” as an adjective (University of Wales, Trinity St David, 2023). The Welsh Government curriculum guidance describes cynefin as:

the place where we feel we belong, where the people and landscape around us are familiar, and the sights and sounds are reassuringly recognisable. Though often translated as habitat, cynefin is not just a place in a physical or geographical sense; it is the historic, cultural and social place which has shaped and continues to shape the community which inhabits it (Welsh Government, 2020).

The word cynefin appears in the Welsh government curriculum guidance six times and each time the above definition is used. However, Snowden (2000) gives the word a more powerful meaning emphasising a connection to the land, suggesting that if a community lacks a sense of cynefin then it has become “alienated from its environment” and is not “spiritually rooted” (p.4). Tyne (2022) also emphasises how the concept of cynefin entails having a close relationship with the land. Rather than cynefin being an understanding of place that emphasises the “historic, cultural, and social” (Welsh Government, 2020) elements, it involves having a deep sense of connection with the natural word (Tyne, 2022; Snowden, 2000).

The words we use and our understandings of them are vitally significant. If we are to enact ways of being that are counter to the dominant discourse, we must first be able to envision alternative ways of being (Derrida, 1978; Freire, 1985; Lakoff & Johnson, 2008). Freire advocated a dialogic pedagogical philosophy wherein learners and teachers should question the understanding of words they use, so that both the word and the world may be rewritten and renewed (Freire, 1985). He argued that many teachers in industrialised cultures have been “destroyed by the dominant ideology of society” (1985, p.18) and tend to impose the dominant culture onto children.

Cajete (2000) reveals that in Indigenous cultures language is not perceived as merely a code, rather “it is a way of participating with each other and the natural world” (p.72). This entails an understanding of words and use of language that involves moving “beyond the surface understanding of a thing to a relationship that includes all aspects of oneself” (Cajete, 2000, p.72). This understanding of words and their utterances acknowledges that they have the power to affect one’s state of being. As Abram (1997) similarly argues, “it is not primarily our verbal statements that are ‘true’ or ‘false’, but rather the kind of relations that we sustain with the rest of nature” (p. 264).

Abram uses the terms “extrahuman” (1997, p.27) and “more-than-human” (p.95) to counter the dominant discourse in industrialised societies that positions the “non-human” world as both other-than and less-than human. Abram (1997) compares the way Indigenous cultures perceive the natural world with that lack of attentiveness prevalent in industralised societies. He argues that the “relative attunement” to the more-than-human world of Indigenous cultures is “linked to a more primordial, participatory mode of perception” (p.27). Abram (1997) explains that for Indigenous peoples, the landscape is alive with expressive non-human beings and humans can learn from their multi-vocal utterances. Kimmerer (2020), an enrolled member of the Citizen Potawatomi Nation, concurs stating that when we listen in wild places “we are audience to conversations in a language not our own” (p.48). She bemoans the “arrogance of English,” as in the English language, “the only way to be animate, to be worthy of respect and moral concern, is to be a human” (p.57). Kimmerer warns of the dangers of languages becoming extinct, as when languages die, we lose more than just words. She describes a language as a “dwelling place of ideas that do not exist anywhere else” and “a prism through which to see the world” (Kimmerer, 2020, p.258). Kimmerer asserts that as children we are aware of the animacy of the world, but due to the dominant culture of Western thinking, “the language of animacy teeters on extinction” (p. 57).

It is claimed our use and understanding of words have further ecological significance as linguistic, cultural, and biological diversity are interconnected as manifestations of the diversity of life (Maffi, 2005). Maffi contends all three diversities are under threat and that “a loss of diversity at all levels spells dramatic consequences for humanity and the earth” (Maffi, 2005, p.599). As oral cultures and their languages become erased from our planet, “humanity is losing not only a cultural wealth but also a vast body of ancestral knowledge” (Gómez-Baggethun, 2022, p.2). Therefore, a reduction in linguistic diversity has adaptational significance as it diminishes the number of different perspectives and understandings that human beings have of the world and thus reduces the number we can learn from (Harmon, 2002; Maffi, 2005).

Cynefin is an old Welsh word that comes from a time and culture that is vastly different to the dominant culture of industrialised societies. It harks back to a place-based culture having a closer relationship with the land (Sinclair, 2004). Cynefin is a word that is enmeshed with one’s relationship to the land, being used in the past by Welsh hill farmers to describe the way sheep would territorialise their own part of common land to graze (Tyne, 2022).

In contrast, mainstream education in industrial growth societies has traditionally been founded on standardised curricula and driven by standardised qualifications. Consequently, localised understandings and localised curricula concerns have been marginalised (Bowers, 2001; Gruenewald, 2003; Sobel, 2017). This is despite claims that place-based education could help to remedy industrial growth societies’ increasing alienation from the natural world (Gruenewald & Smith, 2008; Jardine, 2012; Judson, 2015; Sobel, 2017). If children are going to grow up wanting to protect the more-than-human world (Abram, 1997), they must first learn to love it; and it is argued that place-based education could help to foster this ethos of care (Aspell & Dolan, 2021; Sobel, 2017; Smith, 2014).

This study investigates perspectives of Welsh hill farmers about the meaning of the word cynefin. A thematic analysis of their perspectives is related to place-based pedagogical theory. These themes reveal how the concept of cynefin has the potential to provide a counter-pedagogy to the traditional mainstream schooling of industrialised societies, yet is in keeping with place-based approaches. The potential significance of this is discussed in light of the new curriculum for Wales’ commitment to human and planetary wellbeing.

Ethics for the land

In 2015, the Senedd Cymru (Welsh Parliament) made “a historic decision to change the course of Wales onto a more sustainable path by passing the Well-being of Future Generations (Wales) Act 2015” (Welsh Government, 2019, p.1). The new curriculum for Wales has renewed this commitment to the concept of sustainability (Lewis, 2020). One of the four purposes of the curriculum is that the children of Wales will become ethical, informed citizens of Wales and the world (Donaldson, 2015).

Of course, this immediately raises the question of whose ethics and what values will determine whether the children of Wales have become ethical, informed citizens. Over seventy-five years ago, Leopold argued for a “land ethic” in response to the failings of education in industrial societies to inspire care for the natural world (Leopold, 1946). Leopold (1968) argued that the relationship of industrialised peoples to the land was principally economic “entailing privileges but not obligations” (p.203). He feared that unless a new ethic was adopted then this would be severely detrimental to human and planetary wellbeing (Leopold, 1968). Leopold (1968) argued, all ethics rest upon the premise that an individual is “a member of a community of interdependent parts” (p.203). Leopold’s land ethic proposed a new and wider understanding of community, to “include soils, waters, plants, and animals, or collectively: the land” (1968, p.204). Human beings would no longer be seen as conquerors of the land, but instead would be members and citizens of it.

A chorus of voices has since joined Leopold’s call, with many arguing that today’s climate crisis is a result of an ethical failure that continues to treat nature as resource (Bonnett, 2020; Jickling et al., 2018; Quay et al., 2020). Mainstream education in industrialised nations is positioned as being “anti-environmental,” and built on a “colonial ethos of resource extraction” (Morse et al., 2021, pp.118–119). Unless alternative perspectives and pedagogies change the human–nature relationship then destruction and devastation will continue (Bonnett, 2020; Gray, 2018; Morse et al., 2021).

The Crex Crex Collective (2018) calls for “wild pedagogies” and a “re-membering” of human beings’ sense of community with the more-than-human to counter “human estrangement from nature” (p.70). This re-membering requires an “extended ethical sensibility” that allows for renewal through “seeing with new eyes” (p.71).

Education as a way of being

The need to see with new eyes resonates with Freire’s (1985) call for a counter-pedagogy to break the dominant ideology in education. Freire (1997) argued the mission of education was to raise people’s critical consciousness as part of the quest for human completion. For example, learning to read is not simply a technical act of learning the appropriate coding systems; instead, teachers and students need to understand the ideologies and the discourses behind the words and sentences. Thus, reading the word involves reading the world; “a matter of studying reality that is alive, reality that we are living inside of, reality as history being made and also making us” (Freire, 1985, p. 18). Freire, therefore, advocated education as a dialogic way of being between teacher and student - not only teaching about the way narratives hold power over society, which voices are being heard and which voices are not being heard, but also listening to and valuing the student voice (Freire, 1997).

This thinking is extended by the concept of “wild pedagogies” as the voices of the more-than-human world become part of the dialogue (Crex Crex Collective, 2018). Education in industrialised societies is “a world of abstraction” (Crex Crex Collective, 2018, p. x) taking place indoors, often seated and usually standardised. The more-than-human world is usually cut out of the experience and cut out of the conversation. People in industrialised societies have become “deplaced” (Orr, 2013) and children suffer from “placelessness” (Smith, 2020) because they have no connection to the land. This is because of “indoorism” (Jameson, 1939, p.568), where “our animal senses are no longer in direct relation with the sensuous terrain” (Abram, 2011, p. 90). Nature is encountered and treated as resource and thus is “characterised by space not place” (Evernden, 1999, p.66).

Wild pedagogies require a rewilding of education so that children may experience and learn from places and the land, so that they may listen to voices of the more-than-human, “attending to the untamed” (Crex Crex Collective, 2018, p. x). This resonates with Kimmerer’s (2000) assertion that “listening in wild places” and understanding more-than-human beings as our teachers is integral to a “grammar of animacy” (p.48). Therefore, children need to be given opportunities to dwell in places and direct their attention to the land. As such, this demands ways of being that differ markedly from those currently enacted in classrooms in mainstream schooling (Crex Crex Collective, 2018).

Holistic understandings

Dwelling in places and opening ourselves up to learning from the more-than-human world involves moving beyond merely abstract knowledge to holistic understandings. When we are aware of our immersion in the more-than-human world we re-member ourselves “as whole persons - cognitive, affective, emotional, spiritual, practical” (Crex Crex Collective, 2018, p.71). Affording children these experiences allows them not only to acknowledge their wholeness but also to feel their interconnectedness with the more-than-human world.

This is a reading of the world that is in harmony with holistic education and is “about educating the whole person - body, mind, and spirit - within the context of an interconnected world” (Miller, 2019, p.5). Thus, ways of knowing that go beyond rational, logical understandings are valued. Bodily, affective and spiritual ways of knowing hold as much credence as rational understandings. Moreover, whereas the status quo in schooling tends to marginalise “the soul” or the spiritual aspect of being human, holistic education perceives education as “a form of spiritual practice” (Miller, 2019, p. 7). Part of this practice is understanding human beings’ interconnection with the natural world and recognising this interconnectivity as sacred. This is what differentiates a holistic pedagogy perspective from a critical pedagogy perspective. Like holistic pedagogy, critical pedagogy is alternative to the status quo in education and aims to change society radically through education. Where holistic pedagogy differs from most critical pedagogy is its emphasis on “the spiritual interconnectedness dimension” (Four Arrows, 2019a, p. 34).

“Holistic education” (reference) is a relatively new term, but its philosophies resonate with ancient wisdom traditions and the cultures of Indigenous peoples from around the world. Recognising this is important in order to decolonise the curriculum and acknowledge voices and cultures that have too often been marginalised in the educational institutions of industrial growth societies. Four Arrows (2019a) critiques the Western view of reality that is promoted in schools as being inherently anthropocentric. In contrast, Indigenous pedagogies give voice to the more-than-human world.

Four Arrows (2019a) states that homogenising Indigenous cultures is problematic; however, there are common threads running through the worldview or “worlding” of Indigenous peoples (Four Arrows, 2019a, p.35) which honour the sacredness of relationships with the more-than-human world. Cajete (2015) states that for Indigenous peoples the more-than-human world is full of relations rather than objects to be used as resources. Therefore, humans are not stewards of nature, whilst maintaining an anthropocentric superiority, but are able to experience “a way of being in the world where distinctions between self and other disappear” (Four Arrows, 2019a, p.35). This resonates with the ethos of wild pedagogies where the more-than-human world is respected as a “co-teacher” and its self-willed nature is revered (Crex Crex Collective, 2018). Furthermore, our relationship with, and understanding of, the more-than-human world is seen as being integral to the spiritual dimension of being human (Cajete, 2015; Four Arrows, 2019a).

Richardson et al. (2021) argue that it is not the number of experiences people have in outdoor natural places but the quality of those experiences that will determine whether the experiences will lead to increased wellbeing. Experiences that involve a close connection with the natural world can engender a “feeling that life is worthwhile” (Richardson et al., 2021). Mackay and Schmitt (2019) provide evidence that a sense of connection with nature is important for cultivating “pro-environmental behaviours.” As Sobel states, children must be allowed “to love the earth before we ask them to save it” (2019, p.47). When people feel a “oneness” with nature (Mackay & Schmitt, 2019) this has a lasting impact on their desire to protect the natural world in the future. Therefore, if children can experience time with the more-than-human world “where distinctions between self and other disappear” (Four Arrows, 2019a, p.35) these experiences may afford holistic understandings. It is argued these understandings are fundamental to human, more-than-human, and planetary health and wellbeing (Crex Crex Collective, 2018; Four Arrows, 2019a; Miller, 2019).

Place-based approaches

The literature presented above has supported a focus on place-based pedagogical approaches that aim to change the status quo in mainstream schools’ curricula of westernised societies by offering an alternative vision. The rationale of these approaches is that schools too often promote a way of being that is anti-environmental, as their curricula rest “on the same theoretical footing as modern western culture” (Morse et al., 2021, p.118). As discussed above, holistic place-based approaches have roots in Indigenous cultures’ philosophies demanding an ethical sensibility that contrasts with the priorities of schooling in industrialised nations (Crex Crex Collective, 2018; Four Arrows, 2019a). Nespor (2008), however, provides an important critique of so-called “place-based education” highlighting in particular its tendency to over-simplify and idealise the concept of place “as a stable, bounded, self-sufficient communal realm” (p.479). He emphasises that “places” are fluid, existing in interaction with other “places” and involving complex social-cultural factors. Nespor (2008) also argues that it is neither unproblematic nor desirable to neatly transfer the beliefs of Indigenous groups into other cultural realms. He warns of the dangers of cultural appropriation and a naivety in believing in the homogeneity of Indigenous cultures (Nespor, 2008). Cajete (2015) and Four Arrows (2019a;, 2019b) also warn of the inaccuracy of homogenising Indigenous cultures, but they maintain that modern cultures can learn from Indigenous cultures and that Indigenous peoples do share some common philosophies. Both Cajete (2015) and Four Arrows (2019a;, 2019b) criticise the dominant culture of industrialised societies for wanting to dominate and control nature, and for trying to separate our lives away from the natural world. Four Arrows states that “the colonized mind cannot save itself” as it exists in a state of biophobia where it feels the need to be “fearless against nature” rather than having an attitude of biophilia or love of nature (Fisher & Arrows, 2020, pp.78–79). As such the dominant culture conditions people through a type of “mass hypnosis” into believing that use of “the technologies of domination” and ways of being that separate us from the more-than-human are natural and needed (Fisher & Arrows, 2020, p. 76). Cajete (2000) similarly argues that the “philosophical ideal of ethical participation with nature” as espoused by Indigenous peoples is “the only ideal that will afford all of us a sustainable future” (p.83). Moreover, as has been discussed above, people’s increasing severance from the natural world is argued as being not just of pragmatic concern in terms of survival but has spiritual significance as it affects people’s state of being and denies their spiritual interconnectedness with the more-than-human world (Cajete, 2000, 2015; Four Arrows, 2019a, 2019b).

Understanding this spiritual interconnectedness with the more-than-human world and experiencing a sense of participation with the land is at the heart of Indigenous peoples’ worldview and perspectives of place (Cajete, 2000, 2015; Four Arrows, 2019a;, 2019b; Kimmerer, 2020). Cajete (2000) explains, rather than having an attachment to a place Indigenous peoples experience the land as “the source of one’s essential spiritual being” (p.179) and perceive themselves as being “of a place” (p.208). Cajete (2015) and Four Arrows (2019a) argue that schooling in industrialised cultures needs to learn from Indigenous peoples’ “wisdom” in understanding that people’s authentic experience of place involves having a sacred relationship with the land. This resonates with Raffan’s (1993) assertion that schooling in industrialised cultures ignores “the affective bonds to place” as there is a constant drive “to appropriate, commodify, and quantify what is learned” (p.39). Consequently, “a sense of divine presence” (Raffan, 1993, p.44) when considering human beings’ relationship and encounters with the land is lost. Raffan compares these perspectives of industrialised cultures with the understandings and cultures of first nation people in Canada where a sense of place involves “an existential definition of self” (Raffan, 1993, p.45). First nation people not only work closely with the land and treat these interactions with a sense of reverence, but their relationship with the land is also a spiritual endeavour and an integral part of their identity (Raffan, 1993).

Aim of the study

The aim of this study was to explore perspectives of Welsh hill farmers regarding the meaning of the word cynefin, as this is a key word in the new curriculum for Wales. Yet despite its dictionary translation as “habitat,” cynefin has no direct English translation; however, it is generally accepted as being about a person’s relationship to a place and was originally a term used by sheep farmers to describe the sense of relationship sheep seemingly had to their habitat. This study investigated Welsh hill farmers’ perspectives and understandings of the word cynefin, their use of this word. The subsequent analysis of their responses reveals how their conceptualisations of cynefin resonate with the holistic, place-based approaches discussed above.

Methodology

The study involved a qualitative phenomenological investigation that aimed to interpret the first-person lived experiences (Dall’Alba, 2010) of Welsh-speaking hill farmers’ understanding of the word cynefin. The interpretivist stance that underpinned this research acknowledges that there is a “need to understand and capture subjective experiences and meanings” (Greig et al. 2007, p.54) because of a belief in the subjective nature of people (Kincheloe, 2012). Qualitative data was gathered from semi-structured individual interviews with Welsh-speaking hill farmers as the aim was “to understand the phenomena in their own terms - to provide a description of human experience as it is experienced by the person herself” (Bentz & Shapiro, 1998, p. 96). The data gathering and analysis was a “bottom-up” rather than a “top-down” procedure; rather than having a theory to deduce, it instead prioritised gathering data and “examining potential patterns amongst the data produced” (Greig et al. 2007, p.50). This involved gathering and analysing the data with no preconceived categories or codes (Morse et al., 2009). The questions during the interviews were therefore open-ended and led by the farmer’s responses aiming to “bring out the originary personal experience” (Patočka, 1998, p. 172) of the farmers.

Methods and Sample

Before beginning research, ethical approval was achieved though the university ethics process and informed consent was gained from all participants. Semi-structured individual interviews were conducted with five Welsh hill farmers, selected via purposive sampling of this population, as the aim was to access “insight and in-depth understanding” (Patton, 2002, p. 230) of the word cynefin. Only first-language Welsh speakers were selected to participate so as to prioritise those with a good understanding of the word cynefin. In addition, hill farmers were chosen, as the origins of the word cynefin are from hill farming (Tyne, 2022).

The farmer participants were all over the age of fifty-five and each came from families that had farmed in the Welsh hills for generations. This was significant as it was felt Welsh farmers of an older generation, and from old farming families, would be more likely to use the word cynefin. As such, these sampling decisions were “inquiry driven, theoretically justified” and aiming to produce “information rich” data (Nowell & Albrecht, 2019, p. 354). On the other hand, it could be argued that the sample was limited due to its demographic make-up. Four of the farmers were male and only one was female. This was because there was an element of convenience sampling (Given, 2008) due to the difficulty of accessing interviews with Welsh speaking hill-farmers. These demographic factors also reflect the current age and gender imbalance in hill-farming in Wales (Welsh Affairs Committee, 2022).

The interviews were conducted in English as Welsh was not the first language of the interviewer, all the farmers were bilingual, and the aim was to avoid any inaccuracies during later translation. Each interview was recorded, transcribed, and then analysed. The analysis used the following six-phase method, as outlined by Braun-Clarke (2006).

Phase 1 - data familiarisation

The aim initially was to become familiar with the data through immersion in the interview texts. This involved “repeated reading of the data and reading the data in an active way” in order to search “for meanings, patterns” (Braun-Clarke, 2006, p.16).

Phase 2 – Generating initial codes

The transcriptions were entered into computer software in order to aid the analysis. This allowed for patterns in the text to be highlighted when identified as a pattern or “code.” A code is defined as “a feature of the data (semantic content or latent) that appears interesting to the analyst” (Braun-Clarke, 2006, p.18). At this stage, the aim was to record all patterns of interest that could be found. Even though this was an open process, “coding is not a precise science; it is primarily an interpretive act” (Saldana, 2015, p.5). This initial generating of codes has been called “eclectic coding” and is described as an “open process” (Saldana, 2015, p.5). Some of the responses from the farmers included descriptions that were not about the word cynefin and so these were discarded. Only the descriptions that related to the meaning of the word cynefin were analysed for patterns.

Phase 3 - searching for themes

This involved analysing the initial codes into themes by searching for links between the codes. Searching for links between the codes enabled the codes to be grouped under larger umbrella headings, or “themes.” This involved writing the “name of each code (and a brief description) on a separate piece of paper” enabling the researcher to “play around with organising them into theme-piles” (Braun-Clark, 1996, p.19).

Phase 4 - reviewing themes

During this stage, the “candidate themes” (Braun-Clark, 2006) were further analysed and refined. This included discarding themes where there was not enough data to support them, or the data was too diverse. Some themes were also grouped together or “collapsed into each other” (Braun-Clark, 2006, p.20) as further analysis highlighted close links between them.

Phase 5 – defining and naming themes

Defining and naming the themes meant presenting the “essence” of the theme, “determining what aspect of the data each theme captures” (Braun-Clark, 2006, p.22).

Phase 6 – writing the report

In this writing-up phase it was important to tell the “complicated story” of the data in a “concise, coherent, logical, non-repetitive, and interesting” way (Braun-Clark, 2006, p.23).

Participant confidentiality was a key cornerstone of the ethical approach of the research. It was hoped that this would enable the farmers to speak more freely without any concern of being identified. Their identities have been withheld in the reporting of the analysis of the data (below) through the use of pseudonyms. Welsh language names were deliberately chosen as the pseudonyms to maintain the Welsh language identity of the farmers in the ‘Results and Discussion’ section below.

Results and discussion

The data analysis generated a number of themes that are analysed below. There are inevitable limitations to the generalisability of the results and analysis due to the small sample size. However, the strength of this research is the in-depth descriptions of the word cynefin arising from the participants’ knowledge of its meaning.

Connection with and responsibility to a place (the land) – “You know who you are and what your responsibilities are … your responsibilities to the land”.

One of the common themes that emerged from the analysis of the data was a sense of connection with a place, meaning a connection with not just a geographical area, but with the land of a place. For the farmers “the land” is a natural, rural environment rather than an urbanised place. All the farmers interviewed described cynefin as being about this sense of connection with the land. For example, Farmer Bryn said that “it’s knowing your connection to the land. This connection can help you. It’s powerful but it’s hard to put into words”. Similarly, Farmer Gwyn stated that “if I’ve been away on a journey and I come back, I can feel it, the land when I come back, my cynefin.” All the farmers expressed the view that having a sense of cynefin entailed not just having a connection with a place but having a connection with the land of a place. Farmer Elwyn explains: “It’s not only habitat…because you can be at a place and not have connection with the land”. The farmers were all in agreement that cynefin cannot be simply translated as “habitat.” For example, Farmer Branwen specifically pointed said “no it’s more than that. It’s a tie that ties me into that place … the land of a place.”

The importance of having a connection with the land resonates with Evernden (1999) who warns that without this connection we descend into “resourcism” where places are viewed as mere spaces of utility. This results in a sense of separation from the natural world (Evernden, 1999) and so we can view cynefin as perhaps providing a conceptual alternative to this alienation. This warning is also in harmony with Smith’s (2020) concept of “placelessness”, as children disconnected from the land will have an impoverished sense of place that merely perceives place as space, and the more-than-human as resource. In addition, it chimes with Quay’s (2021) call for posthumanist perspectives that “aim to question the broader positioning of humans in a more-than- human world” (p.8). Such perspectives problematise the hierarchical anthropocentric view of ‘non-humans’ as objects by acknowledging the more-than-human “as wild, as willed, as self-willed” (Quay, 2021, p.9). It is argued that deliberately aiming to perceive more-than-human beings as subjects involves “partnering with their ways of being” (Quay, 2021, p.13), so that the human and more-than-human relationship becomes a partnership.

Focussing on developing children’s cynefin could similarly involve cultivating a sense of partnership and connection with their locality, their local land. All the farmers not only expressed the view that this sense of connection was part of an understanding of cynefin but also that people benefit from this sense of connection with the land. For example, Farmer Idwal stated that “having and feeling this connection gives you confidence. You know who you are and what your responsibilities are…your responsibilities to the land. This seems to be lost by many today.”

This perspective was echoed by the other farmers who agreed that the sense of connection gave you confidence but also a sense of responsibility. As Farmer Elwyn explained, “it’s wanting to care for the land that gives you that connection.” There was common agreement that today’s society had lost this sense of connection because people had lost their sense of responsibility towards the land. The farmers were also adamant that wanting to care for the land should not be only the reserve of farmers. For example, Farmer Idwal argued that “you only have to look at some of the behaviour when people visit these beauty spots they call them … litter and rubbish left everywhere! … It’s the responsibility … to want to take care of the land that is being lost … they’re losing their connection … that’s their cynefin they’re losing.”

This perspective is in harmony with the worldview of Indigenous peoples as elucidated by Four Arrows (2019a, 2019b) and Cajete (2015, 2000). Cajete calls this relationship with the land “a sacred covenant” (2015, p. 49) and Four Arrows (2019b) refers to it as “truthfulness,” a “sincere respect for place and a way to experience oneness” (p.194). The responses from the farmers also concur with Cajete (2015) and Four Arrows (2019a, 2019b) who argue that the dominant culture in modern society is built on a very different relationship with the natural world that is severing peoples’ sense of interconnection with the land.

Feeling of belonging – “when you feel you belong … knowing your own environment”

Analysis of the farmers’ descriptions of cynefin revealed that they all felt cynefin involved not only a connection with the land but also a sense of belonging. For example, Farmer Gwyn declared that “your cynefin … you feel it’s where you belong.” Farmer Idwal concurred, explaining that he would get a feeling of cynefin when he came to landmarks that meant he was home. “I always used to go past that lake and I can see this … that screen of slates, and that’s it! … because slate is so big … my cynefin … it’s a sense of belonging, knowing that that’s where it is” (Farmer Idwal). There was also a common concern expressed that children were losing the sense of belonging that is part of understanding cynefin. For example, Farmer Elwyn shared that “it’s a feeling, a strong, strong feeling of belonging … some children haven’t got that now … they haven’t got that strong feeling of belonging.” Farmer Bryn said that “children are losing their cynefin because they don’t wander anymore … without feeling at home with the land they’ll be lost … they have no feeling of cynefin.”

Farmers Elwyn, Branwen and Bryn also mentioned the Welsh concept of hiraeth as often being linked with an understanding of cynefin. Hiraeth is another Welsh word that has no direct English translation but is translated in the dictionary as “longing, nostalgia, homesickness, wistfulness, yearning” (Gweiadur, 2023). However, all three farmers stressed that whilst hiraeth can be linked to the concept of cynefin and the longing to return to a place, it can also describe a yearning for a time or/and a person. As Farmer Bryn explained, “Welsh poetry is full of references to hiraeth … longing for the old country, but you can also have hiraeth for a person.”

If cynefin is about a feeling of belonging with the land, then there might be a concern that such a concept could encourage xenophobic tendencies where only some people are seen to have rightful belonging to a place and others are excluded. However, all the farmers said that you could have a sense of cynefin for more than one place and feel that sense of belonging in more than one place. The farmers agreed that it involved a feeling of belonging with the land of a place, but this could be with multiple places. For example, Farmer Elwyn said “you can have cynefin for more than one place … different kinds of cynefin … but it’s always something you feel.” Farmer Branwen described it as “when you feel you belong … knowing your own environment … knowing who I am here … but that can be more than one place.” Farmer Bryn agreed, stating that “it can be a feeling for different places … but it always starts with the land.”

The idea of having a feeling of belonging with the land reverberates with Leopold’s (1946) concept of a land ethic as he claimed having a land ethic would lead to a sense of identity with that land. Only if there was this strong sense of identity would people want to protect the non-human members of the “land-community” (Leopold, 1968, p.204). Similarly, it resonates with the call for wild pedagogies that enable children to feel as though they are part of a community with the land to counter “human estrangement from nature” (Crex Crex Collective, 2018, p.70). The idea of children being “lost” without feeling a sense of belonging with the land links too with the warnings outlined by Four Arrows (2020) and Cajete (2015) about the dominant culture distorting people’s minds and making them feel alone. Four Arrows (2020) describes this as being “a culture of fear” and concludes that we must remedy this biophobia by cultivating a biophilic sense of connection. As Cajete (1999) argues humans have an innate “biophilic sensibility” that has the potential to drive “an educational revolution because it is rooted in the deep levels of our biological nature and psyche” (p.192).

Feeling part of the land - “Knowing that part of you is in that soil”

The conceptualisation of cynefin as being about connection and identity with the land was also taken further in the views of the farmers interviewed as they all expressed the idea that cynefin involved feeling part of the land. For example, Farmer Gwyn said: “It feels like you’re part of the land and the land is part of you”. This is supported by Farmer Branwen who describes a feeling of cynefin as “knowing that part of you is in that soil”. Similarly, Farmer Bryn stated that “it’s a calling, a two-way conversation between the land and you. You feel part of it. If you look after the land, it will look after you”. We can relate the importance of feeling part of the land to Indigenous people’s “worlding” as “a way of being in the world where distinctions between self and other disappear” (Four Arrows, 2019a, p.35) as cynefin is perceived as a feeling of enmeshed identity with the land. Cajete (2015) explains that for Indigenous peoples, reality is built on a relationship with the more-than-human where humans cannot exist in isolation and feel part of the land. Similarly, we can make links with Evernden’s (1999) criticism of resourcism, as discussed above, that can only be countered by an alternative sense of self, built on a sense of relation with nature that is alternative to the dominant discourse of industrial growth societies. These perspectives further relate to holistic approaches that stress the importance of affective and bodily ways of knowing (Four Arrows, 2019a; Miller, 2019). If cynefin is about feeling part of the land, then this is advocating cynefin as a bodily and affective way of knowing that is enmeshed with one’s sense of identity. This is in harmony with the Indigenous worldviews described by Cajete (2015) and Four Arrows (2019a) who asserts that humans need to participate in the world “emotionally, physically, mentally, and spiritually, as if we are mysteriously inseparable from it” (p.35).

Sense of the metaphysical – “It’s not a religious thing, but it’s a spiritual thing”

This feeling of a merged identity with the more-than-human world is also seemingly describing a metaphysical experience. The word ‘metaphysical’ of course has a long and contentious history in the study of philosophy. But the meaning of the word here is in line with the dictionary definition that defines it as relating “to a reality beyond what is perceptible to the senses” (Merriam-Webster, n.d.). The sense of the metaphysical was a common theme that could be found in all the farmers’ descriptions of cynefin. It was not that cynefin was described as a physical merging with the land, but that the farmers’ felt at one with the land and that this had existential significance. For example, Farmer Elwyn said that “it’s a feeling you have for the place and the way of life…poets have been able to express it better. But it means a genuine connection between people, the land, their feelings, and their experiences.” Farmer Idwal similarly described it as a powerful metaphysical understanding:

Every morning, you look up at the mountains around here and they’re different every morning and there is a sense of awe in that as well. Yes. It’s rough weather, no problem, is nothing, no. Big storms, big thunderstorms – love it! … Because it’s, it’s a bit … it just shows you sometimes … It’s not a religious thing, but it’s a spiritual thing.

This conceptualisation of cynefin as being a metaphysical and spiritual understanding links with Indigenous cultures and holistic pedagogies that emphasise “the spiritual interconnectedness dimension” (Four Arrows, 2019a, p. 34) of reality as people’s natural state of being, and a fundamental tenet of education. This is not just knowledge understood cognitively but is known as a way of being, an “attending to the untamed” (Crex Crex collective, 2018) so that one may have “experience of the truth of life” (Smith, 2020, p.420). Farmer Branwen described cynefin as involving these metaphysical and existential understandings.

It’s powerful because you feel the land is sacred … also by knowing your connection, that is an element of self-preservation as well, right? Because not just physically, like I said … But there’s knowing, knowing who you are …There’s a glue that pulls things together.

This idea of cynefin being “a glue that pulls things together” relates to the assertion from Richardson et al. (2021) that a strong experience of nature connection results in “feeling that life is worthwhile.” This is potentially significant not just for children’s health and wellbeing but also for planetary health and wellbeing, as children need “to love the earth before we ask them to save it” (Sobel, 2019, p.47). It is these strong feelings of nature connection that will provoke future pro-environmental behaviours (Mackay & Schmitt, 2019). There is also a common thread running through these descriptions of cynefin being a metaphysical experience that converges with the idea of nature as “co-teacher” as is espoused in the paradigm of “wild pedagogies” (Crex Crex Collective, 2018) and Indigenous cultures (Kimmerer, 2020). Experiencing cynefin as something metaphysical and existential is therefore reliant on being open to learning from encounters with the more-than-human world through ways of knowing that go beyond rational logics. It involves engaging in one’s relationship with the land and experiencing this relationship as a sense of spiritual fulfilment.

Concluding discussion

The data from this study was limited due to the size of the sample and the demographics of the participants involved. This speaks to a particular interpretation of cynefin - in the sense that younger Welsh people may also have a version of cynefin, but one that has developed differently to the older farmers, because of their life experience. The farmers were all over the age of fifty-five, came from old Welsh hill-farming families, and live and farm in similar rural environments. Despite being an exclusive group, these characteristics are a strength of the sample as they allowed for in-depth conversations with participants that have special insight into the meaning of the word cynefin, with it having originally come from Welsh hill-farming.

It could be argued that insights from hill farmers, over the age of fifty-five, into the meaning of the word cynefin may be of little relevance for school children in Wales. The daily lives and experiences of the hill farmers are far removed from the daily lives and experiences of most school children and therefore even if they are first language Welsh speakers their understandings of the word cynefin may differ. However, it is precisely because of these differences that the hill farmers’ insights hold value. Their perspectives allow access to understandings that come from an older culture and a lifetime of having an enhanced sense of relationship with that land. If mainstream education is to avoid being “destroyed by the dominant ideology of society” (Freire, 1985, p.18), then it is important that other voices are heard, because through language our understanding of the world is constantly “being made and also making us” (Freire, 1985, p. 18). The new curriculum for Wales, through an understanding of cynefin (as discussed by the farmers), potentially allows for old and more-than-human voices to be heard enabling ways of viewing the world to be experienced that are alternative to the dominant culture of western industrialised societies. This is not just for the sake of hearing alternative voices, and experiencing alternative ways of seeing the world, but because of the ecological and existential significance of these new understandings.

Significance for educational policy

Analysis of the data regarding the conceptualisations of the word cynefin offered by the farmer participants in this study generated several common themes. There was a sense that experiencing cynefin involves having a powerful sense of connection with the land of a place. This includes emphasising how cynefin involves experiences of enhanced attunement with the more-than-human world and understanding this attunement as having spiritual value. Their perspectives provide a conceptualisation of cynefin that is alternative to the one that is outlined in the new curriculum for Wales. In the new curriculum for Wales the emphasis is on a sense of place that comes from having a relationship with a particular human culture rather than feeling a close relationship with the more-than-human world (Welsh Government, 2022). However, the conceptualisations of cynefin provided by the farmers are very much in harmony with the foundation stones of the new curriculum, the Welsh Government’s prioritisation of human and planetary wellbeing (Donaldson, 2015; Welsh Government, 2015) and commitment to sustainability (Lewis, 2020). Cultivating experiences that are in tune with the farmers’ conceptualisation of cynefin could therefore help to ameliorate the sense of deplacement (Orr, 2013) felt by children due to a lack of connection with the land.

In addition, the farmers’ descriptions of cynefin involved a feeling of belonging with the land. This resonates with Leopold’s (1946) land ethic as their descriptions involved feeling a sense of community with the more-than-human world. This is potentially significant also in terms of the Welsh Government’s commitment to human and planetary health and wellbeing as it is argued this feeling of belonging could help to counter “human estrangement from nature” (Crex Crex Collective, 2018, p.70). Moreover, there was also agreement amongst the farmers that experiences of cynefin entailed feeling part of the land. Here the farmers’ conceptualisation of cynefin accords with Four Arrows’ (2019a) description of “worlding,” a way of being perceived by Indigenous cultures when “self and other disappear” (p.35).

Significance for what is taught, how, and why

The farmers’ insights into the word cynefin have pedagogic value because they offer perspectives that are alternative to those prioritised in mainstream education. These perspectives link to pedagogies in holistic education that advocate other ways of knowing beyond the rational, logical epistemologies that tend to dominate mainstream classrooms (Cajete, 2015; Four Arrows, 2019b; Miller, 2019). Feeling part of the land involves bodily and affective ways of knowing (Miller, 2019). It is argued that these ways of knowing are marginalised in mainstream schooling but are integral to experiencing the spiritual interconnectedness of human beings with the more-than-human world (Cajete, 2015; Four Arrows, 2019a;, 2019b; Miller, 2019).

The farmers’ descriptions portrayed feelings of cynefin as involving metaphysical and spiritual understandings. In the words of farmer Branwen, cynefin is experienced like “a glue that pulls everything together” and involves an existential understanding that entails a connection with the land and “knowing who you are.” This positioning of the more-than-human world as being at the heart of human existential identity is arguably counter to mainstream schooling (Cajete, 2015; Crex Crex collective, 2018; Four Arrows, 2019a, 2019b) yet potentially in keeping with the Welsh Government’s commitment to future human and planetary wellbeing (Welsh Government, 2015). Conceptualising cynefin as a word that offers valuable insight into ways of being and existential understandings that are not part of the dominant discourse in Wales could help children to cultivate biophilic understandings and behaviours that could not only aid their wellbeing and the wellbeing of their local environment, but also give them expanded understandings of themselves and their relationship with the more-than-human world. However, for this to occur, there needs to be an openness and attentiveness to non-rational, affective, bodily, and spiritual ways of knowing in schools.

Current mainstream education in Wales mirrors that of other industrialised societies in prioritising rational ways of knowing. Therefore, exploration of affective, bodily, and spiritual ways of knowing are side-lined or ignored. Moreover, anthropocentric attitudes dominate pedagogical approaches, children are largely kept indoors, and the more-than-human world is shut out. If children are to fully understand the concept of cynefin, as has been described by the farmer participants in this study, they need to be encouraged to experience it directly, by schools valuing and making time for non-rational ways of knowing, and direct engagement with the natural world in their local environment. Future research could explore the impact of conceptualising and experiencing cynefin in this way on children’s wellbeing, their attitudes towards the more-than-human world, and their understanding of themselves.