I’VE SPENT A LIFETIME attending, representing and appreciating schools and colleges: with classrooms, instructors, desks, books, screens, gates, grades, student IDs, quizzes, attendance, etc., etc. Most of it I’ve liked/loved, some of it I’ve occasionally put up with — and some of it I’ve slept through.

It’s true that summer coursework is more plentiful than ever at colleges and schools; yet summers still ring, like some grand, rustic Buddhist gong, of a different opportunity altogether. It’s a chance to add to — or totally ditch — the artifice and cramped quarters of traditional classroom teaching.

I offer you the challenge of — ta-da — experiential learning: a gutsy vacation away from the same-old, same-old approach. In short, I’m proposing half a dozen “I dare you to’s” in which age and experience are only marginally relevant. Commit to finding someone (or ones) to discuss your results with; journals also help many of us. But above all, take a risk, burst out of your standard hamster wheel of suburban, small-town living and see what you find, how you react and where it takes you.

Halfway through, ask yourself, how are you feeling — and what energy or optimism do you have?

Try these:

1.) Set up a job-shadowing day with a person important to you: spouse, fiancé, sibling, parent, child, grandchild, relative. See what their work day typically is and the skills, manner and knowledge they use, and take note of the workplace culture and the pace, satisfaction and purpose of the work itself.

2.) Practice your foreign language skills with a group or with a partner who will speak their native language and absolutely not speak English with you for the entire day, morning to night. See how, if and how well you communicate. How do you deal with your new “outsider” status?

3.) Borrow a wheelchair somewhere. Act as if you need it for the day. Go with a friend and try shopping and dining. See how you’re treated, looked at, ignored or spoken to. Watch how little kids — and their parents — approach.

4.) Pledge to go screen-free for 48 hours: no TV, computer, mobile devices, etc. Take the pulse of what’s going on for you: restlessness, daydreams, fears, other chosen activities, joy, anxieties, sleep needs, people you do/don’t contact, things you read, things-you-didn’t-realize-before, etc. Wanna adjust anything?

5.) This might go well with No. 4: Risk-asking. Commit to seriously listening — you may even take notes (though you won’t have to hand them in to teacher). Ask people about all kinds of stuff: how are their kids? how do they parent or take so many courses successfully? how do they drive loud trucks so proudly? or play jazz clarinet that well? or get along with their sibling(s)? or party? or give birth at home without an epidural? or relish pilates? or find a good heating/air-conditioning company … Asking questions from real people — whatta concept!

6.) Don’t talk for 24 to 48 hours. Let close ones in fully on this sometimes-stoic exercise beforehand. As you proceed, and as you finish, ask yourself some of the same questions as in No. 4 above. And be sure to check in with the close ones in your life and get their impressions/reactions to your silence. How did it affect the small, intimate environment in which you live? What are the implications?

You get the idea. This list is eager to morph into a full dozen. Still reticent? Find a sponsor to support and/or reward your efforts. Or award yourself a “forbidden” treat for following through on an item above or one you create.

An early, favorite news reporter of mine, “Scoop Nisker,” often ended his broadcasts with the challenge: “… So that’s today’s report. And if you don’t like the news — make some of your own.”

See you in September.

Rob Peters is a long-time resident of Benicia. He has been a full-time counselor at Diablo Valley College for more than two decades.

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