Interview by Chris Gertschen

CG: Is there one particular event or series of events that led you to a profession in conservation?

RJ:  Yes, if you focus on the profession part.  I got into conservation as a volunteer for a lot of reasons wrapped around love of Idaho’s outdoors and a sense I could contribute, but I got into the profession because of a single event.

At the time—early 1980s—I lived in the Sun Valley area, had a construction business, and wrote a bit for the local newspaper.  As my business did better and wilderness issues heated up I devoted a lot of time as a volunteer with the Sierra Club and the Idaho Conservation League.  This led to a couple opportunities to be part of lobbying trips to Washington, DC, again, as a volunteer.

On one of those trips to DC, in the summer of 1984, I was part of a lobby effort in Congress and in the room for portions of the negotiations between the staffs of Sen. Jim McClure (R-ID) and Rep. John Seiberling (D-OH) over an Idaho wilderness bill.  They were chairman of their respective committees.

As the week ended I was both exhausted and exhilarated sitting in the conference room of the old Sierra Club office on Pennsylvania Avenue.  Late afternoon light was streaming in the window and I’d just heard stories of the then recent passage of the Alaska Lands Act and the conservation work revolving around the office.  The Club staffer I’d been working with gave me a can of cheap beer.  We talked about conservation as a job. I remember the moment like it was yesterday; right then I knew I needed to figure out how to do this work for a living, a sense of career goal I’d never experienced.

A little over a year later I’d gotten a job running the public lands program of ICL.  Two years later I was on the Sierra Club staff—a goal directly connected to that afternoon in their DC office.  For eight years I represented the Club on lands issues in the Pacific Northwest out of Seattle.  My work included Idaho wilderness and a really crazy eight years related to the spotted owl and the region’s ancient forests.  For a while I spent as much as 100 days a year in DC as a “frequent-flyer lobbyist.”

In 1995 I came home and for over 16 years I’ve been running the Idaho Conservation League.  Every time I’m in DC—as I was just last week—I think of that afternoon in the Club’s old office.  That staffer who gave me the beer became an important mentor and is still a close colleague.

And it is still great work I’m lucky to do.  It’s hard, wildly frustrating, and has exceeded every expectation I had for it.

CG:  I had a life-changing wilderness lobbying trip as well.  There is something about seeing the issues we are so passionate about from a broader, national perspective. I would imagine that throughout your many years in conservation you’ve seen some remarkable changes.  Can you tell us about some of the positive changes you’ve observed?

RJ:  Positive changes?

Two things jump out.

One is the change in how people communicate and how that empowers people to engage in new ways.  Our government processes are still unsettled on the impact of new tools, but even if the results are not yet known the world has fundamentally shifted.  Impact on social systems, media, government and all that is the big picture.  Closer to home, simply how I communicate with my colleagues has changed in no less revolutionary a manner, both in immediacy, but also in sharing of content. As a volunteer in the early 80s I had a leg up because of a few paragraphs of ‘insider’ news I got once a month in the mail.  Imagine how crazy that sounds in an era of Facebook and Twitter!

The second thing is how—on a good day—we’ve been able to reduce the partisan edge to conservation.  Some of our most impactful relationships today are with Republicans as well as with Democrats.  Commonsense conservation should not be a partisan issue, we all know that.  It was not always that way and, obviously, it often still is and often for good reason, but we are better at what we don’t actually push our work into a partisan corner by our own actions.

Other good things?  I’m super encouraged by the smart and energetic young people who want to get into this work.  There was a time when young folks were unplugging from the environment and what I see now is a resurgence of really capable young people.

An interesting change with that point about youth is their extreme confidence in technology.  Some of that is good, some of that is, well, I’m not so sure.

CG:  What are some of the challenges that ICL faces?

RJ:  The biggest challenge is big.  Our success is based on many factors, but ultimately we make progress by seeking closure in forums where policy gets made.  Often this means the legislative branch of our federal and state government.  To be generous, let’s just say Congress and the Legislature are not exactly great for anyone these days.  This means that our biggest challenge is one of America’s biggest challenges.  Our government—particularly our legislative forums—are not rising to the needs of the country today.

ICL has done very good work building bridges.  We have developed relationships with both sides of the political divide that few organizations can match.  That said, the actual stage where difficult problems are solved—Congress and the Legislature—are fail to act in the only way they ever successfully do their work: crafting compromise solutions.

Unfortunately, this leads folks to seek alternative venues.  The Courts. Ballot measures.  The streets, even, with things like Occupy Wall Street.  Failure to solve issues does not make them go away.  Our nation’s founders came up with a pretty amazing system of government.  It’s not working well for anyone right now because people on both sides care more about their side than solutions.

I’m pretty confident there are solutions—good ones—to lots of what we work on.  We can only do so much to set the stage.  Whether it’s the environment or anything else, ultimately decisions have to get made.  The places where decisions get made isn’t working very well right now, and that’s bad for everyone.

CG:   I find encouragement in citizen action and I wonder if it is most effective when it is closer to home, perhaps on the community and regional level – grassroots movement from the bottom up.  I am thinking of a shared dream of understanding the land and its inhabitants, a vision of a society that lives well within the limits of the natural world.  I am wondering if there isn’t a strong connection between conservation and environmental education that might be able to support that vision.  Collaboration is not easy, I know, but perhaps taking it to the local level would be more effective.  One example might be cooperative regional conservation centers where resources of many kinds could be housed.  What do you think about that idea?  Do you have other cooperative projects that you’d like to see happen?

RJ:  I don’t know about prospects for a regional conservation center or such a thing but do strongly support local collaboration and ICL has helped be a catalyst for and participant in several noteworthy examples.

As you note collaboration is not easy.  What’s also not easy is making actual forward progress without it.  Conservationists have made an art form out of stopping bad things, and that’s important and often necessary work.  But stopping bad is a lot different than advancing good.  Conservation, in my view, is a public interest movement and if it is to endure it must be built on public support and moving forward.  A ‘movement’ that only fights bad can too easily be reduced to being just a special interest.

I see the challenge of creating forward movement on wilderness, open space, public health, energy conservation and a whole host of other issues to be the most exciting part of my job.  It comes at various levels for us: local, regional, and statewide.

And it’s really hard.  Collaboration between a diverse set of players, when it’s working, is a fascinating process to watch and be part of.  I literally just returned from a meeting of a ‘collaborative’ table bringing elected leaders, the timber industry, conservation interests, mining, and more.  A key lesson from this and every other table we’re part of is that each one is different.  It’s an art, and not even close to a science.  The collaboration results from getting the right people together at the right time, often at the right moment, often after a lot of difficult history.  For this reason I don’t think it can be easily centralized or ‘cooked.’  There is no formula.  This makes me a suspicious about success of trying to institutionally create it through a ‘conservation center’ or such thing.

CG:  I was thinking of regional centers as “places” that house resources for those engaged in teaching and learning about the places where we live.  The Crown of the Continent Consortium for Ecosystems Education is a model for what I am describing.  Or, perhaps what I envision is a website that links many conservation resources with those who need them; and links those who want to be more active in conservation with those who can use a hand.  I am hopeful that these interviews will spawn a conversation that leads to more effective and widespread conservation. I’ve learned in the course of these interviews that most conservation organizations are short on funds and thus have staffs that are working way too hard.  If I could grant you a wish of funds to increase your efforts, what programs and projects would you be most interested in pursuing?

RJ:  There is no question that we’re short on funds, and all the more so now with the tough economy.  Part of it might be that it’s hard to say no to good work that might not be done by anyone else otherwise.  We do have a broad mission so we work on a broad portfolio and I’m certain that breadth of work makes us more effective and we certainly learn more and expose ICL to a broader set of policymakers and the public at large.  But it is expensive.

If there was one place where I’d put new funds to work right now would be towards telling our story.  The business model of a typical conservation advocacy group—which is more or less what we are—is that we’re built around communicating to our members.  The fact is we represent everyone in Idaho who cares about the air they breathe, water they drink and lands they love.  That’s a lot more people than we can now talk to.  I am certain with greater resources to inform, inspire and empower citizens who care, we would build a much deeper and broader constituency for conservation who’d like what we do and how we do it.  We have some work in place today that has started this process, and while it’s enhanced our audience by thousands, we could do much more.

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Chris Gertschen is the founder and former director of the Sawtooth Science Institute. She is conducting a series of talks with the leaders of conservation in the west to get their perspectives on the relationship between conservation and environmental education. Read her introduction here.

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Interview by Chris Gertschen

Charles Saylan is co-founder and executive director of the California-based Ocean Conservation Society.  He co-authored with Daniel Blumstein, a biology professor at the University of California-Los Angeles, “The Failure of Environmental Education (And How We Can Fix It)”.

CG:  You have written about environmental responsibility as a goal of environmental education.  It occurs to me that environmental responsibility is also a goal of conservationists as well.  The OCS is that rare conservation organization that conducts programs that actually involve the local community in educational programs.  I wonder why there is not more collaboration between conservation and EE?

CS:  This is a complicated question. In the book, we make the point that protecting the commons that support all of us (humans & others) is a shared responsibility of all people, whether or not we choose to accept it. Environmental degradation does not distinguish between democrats, republicans, conservationists or terrorists. We are all responsible.

In our experience, there is little collaboration between anyone. NGO’s typically do not work together, government grants do not encourage collaborative relationships, many reports are not published in public journals and etc. Why this happens is likely due to a sense of territoriality, wherein conservation/environmental groups are worried more about self perpetuation than they are about making a measurable impact on any given problem. In my opinion, another problem is that academics tend to have tunnel-vision and focus only on their particular area of expertise, which tends to obscure comprehension and effective communication of the big picture. This tends to confuse the public at large and any broad-scale efforts are easily derailed by industrial, political & corporate interests that see environmental protection as an encroachment on the free market or corporate interests.

CG:  You have also written about the need for relevancy in EE.  You tell a story about the difficulties of trying to interest urban kids who have never seen the ocean in marine ecology.  I’ve been struck by the strangeness of teaching kids who live in an arid region about the diversity of the rainforest.  Seems to me that there are interesting issues to study that are closer to home.  Has globalization come to EE?

CS:  I think we need two separate but integrated approaches to EE.

One, on a national or state scale that establishes the general parameters of what ought to be taught. This structure is already in place as state and federal teaching standards but fails to stimulate action and engagement as our standards are generally based on student performance from a solely economic perspective. If we hope to grow into a healthy society able to maintain a participatory democracy and understanding of our human place in nature, we will need to look outside the economic viewpoint. There is more to living well than making money and we need to teach this in public education. With that said, it is important to cultivate functional and scientific literacy in a modern society if we hope to provide the necessary tools that citizens will need to understand the complex problems our planet faces. This type of curricula can be measured through testing, but ought also to be evaluated from qualitative aspect as well.

Secondly, it is critically important to take a local approach to EE that is relevant to the lives of the students in any given area. It is also important to realize that local approaches will vary substantially from place to place. Rural agricultural communities have different values and motivators that do urban ones, and teaching needs to identify and build upon these cultural and regional differences. I think that community involvement projects are a good place to start. Things like school gardens that incorporate their harvest into the school lunch programs or, better yet, distribute food to poorer members of the community, can help build awareness while teaching practical skill for implementing ideas in a real way. This is, to use an overused concept, practical empowerment. In the book we have an appendix for greening schools that I think is a great beginning point for building better, greener and more effective schools (in the physical sense), while imparting organizational skills that will help build and maintain cohesive societies.

Finally, it is important to recognize that the “environmental movement”in America is mostly affluent, liberal and white. To be effective in mitigating the daunting threats we all face, this will have to change, and quickly. EE needs to be culturally relevant to a diverse society.

Curricula needs to be offered in multiple languages and build on the cultural cornerstones of any given community. It is not important why someone decides to use less energy or lobby their leaders for conservation legislation, it is only important that they do so. EE should make a global attempt to identify cultural motivators and act upon them.

CG:  Conservation organizations work to raise awareness but as you have written that that is only half the job of EE.  I’ve always loved Baba Dioum’s words:  “In the end, we conserve only what we love. We will love only what we understand. We will understand only what we are taught.”  Do you have some ideas on how we can go about facilitating the understanding that is necessary to love enough to conserve?

CS:  I don’t think there is one way to stimulate change. The needs and wants of any given community will likely be unique. Motivating a community to embrace environmental conservation will require that teachers and leaders listen carefully to the needs and concerns of a given community, then act in ways that resonate with the respective group. When it comes to issues like climate change, why people decide to act is less important than the action itself. In other words, it isn’t necessary that any target group believe in environmental conservation if they cut back on energy usage for other reasons that hit closer to home. Approaching the problem from different directions, such as increasing  national security or finding ways to cut household expenses for example, might go further in some communities than the traditional approach of EE (to raise awareness of environmental issues). I think the EE community needs desperately to get pragmatic about stimulating action first, by whatever means that provoke results, then go to work on building awareness.

CG:  The Children in Nature movement and the national and state by state environmental literacy effort that is currently underway might be the kind of pragmatic action you have in mind.  Have you ideas on how this effort can be successful?

CS:  My familiarity with the Children in Nature movement is general. I am aware of some of the things that Richard Louv and David Sobel are doing and I think these are all good steps. The reality is, in my humble opinion, that these programs are not generally available, especially in poor communities. In the current economic climate, this is further exacerbated by cuts to state education budgets which, given our national focus on education as an economic utility, tend to hit the outdoor education and humanities programs the hardest.

Environmental literacy efforts, like the California Education and the Environment Initiative are good steps as well, but in California’s case, this program has been a long time coming and is facing obstacles to full implementation due to a lack of funding, even though it is legislatively mandated. Then, there is the point we make repeatedly in our book, that awareness may not lead to action and behavior change, as many of us in the environmental and educational communities think it will. I believe that teachers, parents, students across the social spectrum of public education systems, will need to move outside their respective comfort zones and teach and learn how to affect change, and quickly. Programs and efforts that do not include teaching us how to live well, how to treat each other fairly, how to listen to others and appreciate the natural world we take for granted, will likely not work. Education must emphasize important non-economic aspects of a well-rounded society by re-incorporating subjects like literature and poetry, history, philosophy, music and art, in any educational reform agenda.

Public education needs to cover the intangible aspects of our world. Such intangibles provide a connection to our primordial selves, which may aid us in recognizing that we are part of a vast web of life, and that our survival depends upon the resiliency of that web. This inter-connectedness is what we must stress in our classrooms, in ways that resonate with the lives of our students.

If public education taught students about moral systems, cultural diversity and cross-cultural similarity, it would help build more equitable and tolerant societies. Moral systems are cornerstones of human civilization and belong in the curricula of any responsible society.

Our democratic republic requires participatory citizenship to survive as a democracy. People, not politicians or industrial lobbyists, do still hold the power in this country, but many of us don’t know it because our schools do not teach it. Public education, in my opinion, needs to step up and teach us how the political process really works, and how we, as individual citizens can practically influence it. Students need to know what remedies are available if their voices are suppressed or ignored, and these days all of us could stand to take an open-minded look at the role of civility and compromise in the political process.

Programs might encourage students to attend city/county council meetings to see firsthand how local government works, or doesn’t. These same programs might help teach students they have the right to speak, to ask questions about the political process, to be heard, and to easily understand legislation that they are expected to live by. Effective educational programs need to encourage active, personal participation in the political process and help students to make distinctions between social issues of conscience and the non-partisan issue of protecting the environment. Those same programs then, should encourage students to help others, especially those who do not share their views, to make that same distinction.

I hope this helps a bit and is not too over-the-top. I am increasingly worried that our society is endlessly talking, yet doing little to affect change. Given the ticking clock nature of environmental degradation, this is not a good trend.

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Chris Gertschen is the founder and former director of the Sawtooth Science Institute. She is conducting a series of talks with the leaders of conservation in the west to get their perspectives on the relationship between conservation and environmental education. Read her introduction here.

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…”[Jim] Watson gave up long ago trying to change the world of environmental education through Big Initiatives – the work of government, school boards and such. While he serves on the board of directors for the Chattanooga Arboretum & Nature Center and North Chickamauga Creek Conservancy, his diligent and personal approach to environmental education aims to change one person at a time. The words of William James, an American psychologist, professor and author, resonate with his philosophy: ‘I am done with great things and big plans, great institutions and big success. I am for those tiny, invisible loving human forces that work from individual to individual, creeping through the crannies of the world like so many rootlets, or like the capillary oozing of water, which, if given time, will rend the hardest monuments of pride.’”

Read the complete article at:

http://www.nooga.com/23166_profile-jim-watson-environmental-educator-extraordinaire/

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For the past three decades, I have been an activist, a volunteer, a student and a teacher of conservation.  My activist years gave me an advocacy perspective but I quickly saw a great need to expand my own natural science education – to give some foundation and balance to my life and love of the earth.  My studies of biology as an undergrad were focused singularly on human biology and physiology.  The word “ecology” was not then part of the curriculum.  As a graduate student, I was introduced to a whole new world.  In the natural history interdisciplinary program that I designed for myself at Boise State University, I studied geology, zoology, ecology and public affairs.  And, I began to learn about conservation biology.

In 1994, I was asked to lead the Idaho Environmental Education Association (it was the Idaho Energy and Environmental Education Society in those days) and continued to lead the organization for the next nine years.  Affiliation with the North American Association for Environmental Education allowed for tremendous educational opportunities and I was fortunate to be introduced to a great diversity of educational programs taking place all over North America.  At home, I continued to hold the vision of a much expanded environmental education organization.  But I saw the environmental education community keeping very much to itself with very little interaction with conservation organizations.

In 2010, after a 20 year career as director (and founder) of the Sawtooth Science Institute in Idaho, I found myself prematurely retired.  In my search for work — volunteer and otherwise — I offered my services to a variety of conservation organizations, universities, and non-profits.  Through this process I learned many lessons about what was and was not happening in education and conservation.  It was not easy to get a response and so I began to delve a little deeper.  I went in search of answers to my questions.  I wanted to begin a dialogue about how conservation efforts might be improved through better coordination and communication. I asked questions of the leaders of conservation organizations in the hopes of hearing from them how conservation could be improved.

I believe that the barriers that exist between environmental education and conservation are calling for a new way of doing business.  Can conservation education bring together scientists, conservationists and environmental educators for a better future?  Is there a place for education in conservation?   In the interviews that follow, I’ll ask these and other questions of conservation leaders.  The dialogue we begin may help us discover new ways of working together that will have benefits for all who care about this planet.

Chris Gertschen
2011

Interview with Lance Craighead (August 2011)

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Mountain School has ended for me, but this recent spring session changed my life as an educator. I have become more convinced that I am pursuing the right career and that my teaching techniques have had meaningful impacts in my students’ lives. It is embarrassing for me to speak so candidly and arrogantly, but the parent chaperones have told me I am doing good work. I know this is true because in two successive weeks I choked up at home while journaling. Though I write this article more than two months later, I still feel the emotions welling inside me as I recall specific moments that impacted me earlier in the season.

I blame one student who eloquently spoke about how he feels empowered to change the world. I fault another whose sheer smile in her own accomplishments makes me tear up every time I am reminded of her voice.

International School (grades six to twelve) sent seventh, eighth and ninth graders from Bellevue to spend a whole week with us at Mountain School. Co-teacher Codi Hamblin and I delivered our Carnivore Curriculum, which capitalizes on the scientific method and provides an opportunity for students to experience data collection near campus. We guided students to actively set up an experiment that analyzes possible carnivore habitat.

Mountain School students prepare a transect to study habitat for a carnivore species.

Despite cold, snowy weather, Mountain School students teach each other fun facts about carnivores of the North Cascades.

As we closed out the week on the last morning, I decided to read Dr. Seuss’ The Lorax to let them unwind and gather their thoughts before heading home. Afterwards, I asked students to place themselves on a spectrum, telling the group if they acted more like the Lorax or the Once-ler. The results astounded me, and the following discussion drove home the teaching point. Most students claimed they felt like the Once-ler, a character driven to succeed in the short-term but not always aware of the effects of his actions in the long-term.

Despite cold, snowy weather, Mountain School students teach each other fun facts about carnivores of the North Cascades.

Students recognized their daily actions and began to verbally explore ways to make more responsible decisions—with the mindset of thinking seven generations ahead. They spoke of how every action should be taken with the environment and other people in mind. After an entire week exploring outside, these students committed to bring home mindful and deliberate action always considering others’ needs and those of the environment. I felt the strength of these inspired students, as the power of their ideas and vows resonate through me still.

A student measures the height of a tree using a clinometer.

On the heels of that week-long program came another school from Seattle. South Shore Middle School asked for the same curriculum and I wanted to lead them the same way. But the weather made us miserable as snow and freezing temperatures drove us inside on the first day. They felt content staying inside as much as possible. I knew my approach would have to change from focusing on scientific methodology to simply encouraging them to get out and brave the elements.

Mountain School students reflect on their experiences at the North Cascades Environmental Learning Center.

Hiking along the Sourdough Creek Trail, I told students there was a waterfall waiting for them at the end. We approached and climbed to the very base of the falls. Everyone was soaked—a light drizzle (slush and snow) drenched us from the skies and from a huge spray coming off the waterfall, thundering into the pool in front of us. We hiked down to a more sheltered area, with every participant helping to make sure we were all safely down.

Sourdough Falls crashes into the rock below. Photo by David Strich.

Upon some high-fives and congratulations, I overheard some students say this was the most incredible thing they had seen. Then little Lucás turned to me with glowing eyes and said, “This is the first time I have ever been to a waterfall. I am so proud of myself.” That smile is engrained in my memory while I try to avoid crying onto my keyboard. In an age when all we hear is how kids are too connected to their electronics, I was able to facilitate one plug herself straight into the heart of the natural world.

Like many teachers, I don’t know if I will ever see these students again. But I can rest assured that for at least a handful of students, I was able to instill a little bit of love for the environment. Hopefully they will remember the experiences and encourage their peers to be stewards alongside them. There is no evaluation I can do about the effectiveness of my teaching, but I have the satisfaction of seeing smiles of success and connection to nature. And I have hope in my students.

Photos courtesy of Alyssa Royse, unless otherwise noted.

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For those of us who advocate on behalf of environmental education, June was a pretty good month. First, President Obama’s America’s Great Outdoors Initiative led to the establishment on June 13 of the Federal Inter-agency Council on Outdoor Recreation, bringing together federal, state and tribal agencies to ensure that everyone has access to the great outdoors. Then, on June 21, the Maryland State School Board made the final vote in support of a high school graduation requirement for environmental literacy, the nation’s first.

Read the rest of this article here.

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By Joseph Cornell

Profound moments with nature foster a true and vital understanding of our place in the world. I remember an experience I had as a five-year-old boy that awakened in me a life-long fascination for marshes, birds, and for a life lived wild and free.

I was playing outside on a cold, foggy morning when I suddenly heard a startling chorus of “whouks” coming toward me through the air. I peered intently at the thick fog, hoping for at least a glimpse of the geese. Seconds passed; the tempo of their cries increased. They were going to fly directly overhead! I could hear their wings slapping just yards above me. All of a sudden, bursting through a gap in the fog, came a large flock of pearl-white snow geese. It seemed as if the sky had given birth to them. For five or six wonderful seconds their sleek and graceful forms were visible, then they merged once again into the fog. Seeing the snow geese thrilled me deeply, and ever since then I have wanted to immerse myself in nature.

Being Fully Present

When outdoors, many people are so engrossed in their own private concerns that they spend little time noticing their surroundings. I once demonstrated this to a group of 25 teachers in Canberra, Australia. I asked them to look at a beautiful tree as long as they were able to, and to raise their hands when their attention wandered from the tree and drifted to other thoughts. In only six seconds, every hand was raised. They were amazed to discover how restless their minds were.

Exposure to nature isn’t always enough. A friend of mine discovered this when he took his eight-year-old son hiking in the Canadian Rockies. They hiked for several hours until they came to a spectacular overlook where they could see two glaciated valleys and several alpine lakes.

He said, “That view alone made our long trip from Iowa worthwhile.” He suggested to his son that they sit and enjoy the mountain scenery. But the boy, who’d been running exuberantly back and forth along the trail, sat for five seconds, then scrambled to his feet and started running up the trail again. My friend said he felt like screaming, “Stop! Look at this incredible view!”

How can we help others experience nature deeply when their minds and bodies are so restless? The secret I’ve discovered is to focus their attention with captivating nature activities that engage their senses.

For example, in the Camera Game, which is played with two people, the “photographer” taps the shoulder of the “camera” twice, and the camera-person opens his eyes on the scene before him. Because the camera-person looks for only three seconds, his mind doesn’t have time to daydream, so the impact of his “picture” is quite powerful. Players of the Camera Game have told me that they’ve retained a vivid memory of their pictures for five, even eight years afterwards. This activity helps people of all ages experience what it is like to truly see.

Other examples of simple, absorbing activities are mapping natural sounds, writing an acrostic poem about something captivating, drawing one’s “best nature view,” and interviewing nature, where you look  for a special rock, plant, or animal that has an interesting story to tell. Then you ask it questions like, “What events have you seen in your life? What is it like to live here? Is there something you would like to tell me?”

Superlative Moments

Abraham Maslow described peak experiences as especially joyous with “feelings of intense happiness and well-being” and which often involve “an awareness of transcendental unity.” Mountaineers commonly report having these kinds of experiences. John Muir, in the following passage, explains why:

In climbing where the danger is great, all attention has to be given the ground step by step, leaving nothing for beauty by the way. But this care, so keenly and nar- rowly concentrated, is not without advantages. One is thoroughly aroused. Compared with the alertness of the senses … on such occasions, one may be said to sleep all the rest of the year. —John of the Mountains

The intense focus required by wilderness pursuits such as climbing heightens one’s awareness, which is why so many people avidly enjoy them.

Leaders can encourage peak experiences on less wild walks by using experiential activities that focus people’s complete attention on nature. Concentration is concentration; people benefit from increased perception wherever they are. One educator who hikes the Appalachian or Pacific Crest Trail every summer practiced the Sharing Nature organization’s reflective “I Am the Mountain” exercise for just four minutes. Afterwards, he said enthusiastically, “I was able to experience a state of heightened awareness that usually takes me a month in the wilderness to feel.”

Meeting Nature Face to Face

Science can only describe a flowering cherry tree; it cannot help us experience the cherry tree in its totality. To develop love and concern for the earth, we need deep, absorbing nature experiences; otherwise, our relationship with nature will remain distant and abstract and never touch us deeply.

Rita Mendonca, Sharing Nature Brazil’s national coordinator, recently gave a training program in the Amazon for professional ecotourism guides, some of whom had worked in the area for 40 years. Their attitude at first was that she had little to teach them. But after participating in several experiential Sharing Nature® activities, a woman approached Rita and said with deep emotion, “You are helping me find the forest inside of me! We don’t know the forest in this way!”

Absorbing experiences bring us face-to-face with nature. The observer and the observed become united—and only then is true knowing and love awakened in the observer’s heart. John Muir said that the content of the human soul contains the whole world. The deeper purpose of experiential learning is to broaden our experience of life and include other realities as our own. When one is immersed in nature, Muir said, the “body vanishes and the freed soul goes abroad.” Only by expanding our sense of identity beyond our physical body and egoic self can we commune with distant horizons, brightly colored songbirds, and countless other delights.

When people are quiet and receptive, fully immersed in nature, insights on the real purpose of life reveal themselves. David Blanchette is a teacher at the Punahou School on Oahu Island, Hawaii, where every year he leads his 13-year-old students on an inspirational nature walk along a remote and wild coastline. Below are some of his students’ thoughts about life and nature after playing reflective, experiential Sharing Nature activities like “Expanding Circles,” “Trail of Beauty,” and the “John Muir Game”:

•         It made me feel like I was actually a part of the sand and ocean.

•         I was a calm ocean wave gently rolling towards the shore. I was the reef, feeling the cool water roll over me.

•         I felt euphoria. I felt like I was one with everything around me.

•         It felt powerful, yet peaceful. Every part of me is moving and flowing in harmony.

•         Watching the turtle swim carefree reminded me that I have nothing to worry about.

•         You really live when you take time to notice your surroundings.

•         If you find beauty within the world you can find it within yourself.

Jessica, one of David’s students, wanted to express her appreciation for the ocean, so she gratefully wrote “thank you” in the sand—and let the ocean waves embrace her sentiment and take it into itself.

Fostering in others beautiful human qualities of humility, respect, love, and joyful harmony with one’s environment outside and inside of oneself—as expressed by the Hawaiian students—is what nature education is really about.

Becoming Good Stewards

A teacher in the Southwest once asked the children in his class to draw a picture of themselves. He recalled, “The American children completely covered the paper with a drawing of their body, but my Navajo students drew themselves differently. They made their bodies much smaller and included the nearby mountains, canyon walls, and dry desert washes. To the Navajo, the environment is as much a part of who they are as are their own arms and legs.” The understanding that we are a part of something larger than ourselves is nature’s greatest gift. With it, our sense of identity expands and, by extension, so does our compassion for all things.

In order to create a society that truly reveres the natural world, we must offer its citizens life-changing experiences in nature. Saint Teresa of Avila said, “The soul in its ecstatic state grasps in an instant more truth than can be arrived at by months, or even years, of painstaking thought and study.” One moment of deeply entering into nature can inspire in us new attitudes and priorities in life that would take years to develop.

When people feel immersed and absorbed in the natural world, they are learning the highest that nature has to offer—because nature herself is their teacher.

Joseph Cornell is the author of the highly acclaimed Sharing Nature book series and is the founder and president of Sharing Nature Worldwide. You are welcome to reprint this article with prior permission from Sharing Nature Worldwide. You can find out more about Sharing Nature activities and resources at www.sharingnature. com or 530-478-7650. Contact Joseph Cornell at info@sharingnature.com.
This article originally appeared in the May/June issue of Legacy, the publication of the National Association of Interpretation (NAI).

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By Kasey Christian

(photo from silouanthompson.net)

Where are the boundaries between Social Studies, Science, and Spiritual beliefs? Where do these distinct practices intersect? How does a teacher model equal respect for each?

As professional educators, how do we teach about intrinsically interdisciplinary (and sensitive) topics such as the basic foundations of life and death?  Both alternative and popular cultures have explored the intimate intersection between natural sciences and spirituality since the earliest discoveries of humankind.  Through exploration of cultural customs and beliefs, a similarly fascinating intersection can be found between social studies and spirituality . As an outdoor educator in a formal, non-traditional setting, much of the curriculum I teach is based on the cultural history of the land.  As I respectfully acknowledge both the facts and beliefs of particular cultures, I am repeatedly challenged to articulate the similarities and differences between social studies, science, and spiritual beliefs.  In my desire to regard each subject area with equal respect and value, I am currently grappling with this dynamic, mysterious and sometimes perplexing crossroads between disciplines.

For example, as we walked along a trail, one student shared with me and several other students that there are “spirits trapped in seeds floating through the air”.  He stated this as fact.

I inquired into the source of his statement; “very interesting idea…how did you learn that?”

His response was stated with equal assuredness: “Samoa. My parents are Samoan and I was born in Samoa and they taught me there”.

At that moment I felt I was straddling a wobbly fence dividing fact and faith.  From this awkward seat, the inheritance of one cultural understanding of the world was coming to terms with another culture’s customary beliefs. I wanted to draw out more from this unique opportunity to learn about Samoan cultural heritage, but I could also imagine parents of one of the other children getting  frenzied as their child informs them that at “science camp” they learned about the “spirits in seeds”.  What was striking me as most important was to ensure that the kids understood that the idea of spirits in seeds is an expression of a belief, and that when we discussed seeds as a stage in the life cycle of a tree we were then speaking of a tangible scientific truth.

I asked the kids to share any other stories or ideas about seeds that they might know.  A couple of voices spoke up about how seeds could have souls and could be alive, and I smiled in realization that by personifying the seeds the kids were recognizing the life of an object which previously seemed inanimate to them. Several other children mentioned how stems, leaves and flowers shoot up out of seeds as they grow in the ground.  Through their observant words, the kids made apparent their recognition of life as both soul and physical growth.  Again, they sparked me to wonder if I was guiding them to learn about science or spirituality. I think that the answer is both, and that the subjects are integrally connected even at times when we least expect it. Furthermore, social studies was fluidly brought into the conversation as we stepped into the Garden Classroom to learn about human practices of composting and gardening.

After spending a morning at the garden and composting sites on our main campus, a hike to the nearby cemetery provides valuable perspective of the human history of the land.  The students typically explore the cemetery in the style of a scavenger hunt to help them answer the questions:  “what happened here in the past- who lived here, what did they do, and how do they have anything to do with what we see here today?”  In addition to the usual response of “Ewww…this is creepy”, they often come back with questions that shock me, such as “Are we walking on bodies? Where did the people go? What are they doing? Are they decomposing?”  Somewhat reluctantly, I struggle to answer these questions.

How can the topic of death be educationally framed for young students? The world’s many different cultures have richly developed stories which we can share to make sense of the spiritual journey after life.  This attempt to explain the unseen is a cross-cultural commonality amongst the wide variety of societies.  Therefore, when answering students’ questions about what happens to people when they die, a straightforward factual explanation of the process of physical decomposition does not seem sufficient. Nor does it seem entirely appropriate.  It would be relevant to discuss cultural customs around burial practices, but that choice is partially evasive of the students’ direct questions. It seems unfair to evade the potentially harsh realities of their inquiry by redirecting the conversation towards information that is more easily comprehensible.

After tumbling ideas around in my mind, the best solution to my struggle came from a student’s comment regarding the visit to the cemetery: “Oh, now I understand why we came here- because there are cycles happening here too.” This student noticed the common ground between the garden, compost, and the cemetery. By doing so, I realized that this student understood not just the basic content, but also the larger context and concepts embedded in the lessons. This student did not distinguish boundaries between science, social studies, and spiritual beliefs. Rather, he constructed a single integrative concept to include all of his learning.

While I do not intentionally guide students to make connections in the exact same way that the above mentioned student did, I have not forgotten his words. If a student can make the connections between observations of a seed, a lesson on compost, a visit to a cemetery, then I think that educators can too.  What strikes me as most important is how we frame the content of the lessons.  If lines begin to blur in the students’ understanding, then we can help them by inquiring into the source of the information.  For example, we can ask questions like “Where can we find evidence to support that idea?” or “What do you notice that leads you to believe that?”  Thinking about and discussing the sources of knowledge, whether from science, social studies, or spiritual beliefs, shows respect for each distinct practice.   Integrating the disciplines allows the students to deepen their understanding and connection to their own personal lives. Aren’t those connections at the core of interdisciplinary instruction? Aren’t they also excellent demonstrations of students learning and making meaning?

Kasey Christian is a University of Washington Graduate Student pursuing a Master’s of Education degree. She will soon complete IslandWood’s certificate program in Environment, Education, and Community, where she has been an Instructor of their School Overnight Program for 4th and 5th grade students.

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By Saul Weisberg

I love knowing the names of things. It makes them familiar, like old friends. I also love to look at patterns in nature. Veins on the back of a vine maple leaf. The yellow and black scales on the wing of a two-tailed tiger swallowtail. The striations in a piece of greenschist. The patterns of nature show us the details of life where the wonder lies.

The landscape is made up of details, too. The ways things fit together — the interactions of living and non-living things — tell a story. In order to make sense of larger patterns, in order to recognize them in the first place, you have to know the details. You have to be able to look at the pieces and pick them apart, understand what this thing is, why this lives here and not there, why things work the way they do, and what has changed over time.

The distrust and ignorance of science that is prevalent in society has made inroads in environmental education as well. It is not unusual to see eager and competent educators with master’s degrees in EE who have no knowledge of natural science, and who are unable to identify common birds and plants. These educators tend to focus on two things: the experience of teaching in the outdoors and the big picture — important processes and concepts. But somewhere between the experience and the process we lose touch with the thing itself — the organism and its world.

The poet William Carlos Williams said “No ideas but in things.” In the beginning you have to know its name. If you know the name of something you can take that knowledge with you anywhere. You have friends in every habitat. When we know the name of something we can talk about it; it is a sign of respect. Do we need to know the name of something to talk with it as well? Is it harder to harm something when you know its name?

Environmental educators must have a strong grounding in natural history, and field biology and ecology. In addition they should have an intimate knowledge of at least one group of organisms. The group does not matter. It can be dragonflies or butterflies, bears or salmon, mosses or conifers or lizards. Intimacy is the key. This grounding should include an ability to identify local species  and an understanding of taxonomic and ecological relationships. Taxonomy is intimately connected to real patterns in the natural world. Why a butterfly is a butterfly, or an orchid is an orchid, is connected to things you can observe, patterns that you can see around you in the faces of familiar organisms.

A naturalist is someone who pays attention. Paying attention brings you into intimate contact with the world. To be a naturalist you must be curious, observe actively and closely, describe and identify what is before you, take good notes, look for patterns at all scales, reflect on where you’ve been and what you’ve seen, and immerse yourself in the natural world. For a naturalist — intimacy is everything. We must dive deep and immerse ourselves in our wonderful northwest landscapes. A naturalist practices passionate observation in all seasons and in all weathers. At North Cascades Institute we are often asked the question “How can you teach (go birding, look at bugs, key a wildflower, watch a frog) in the rain?” Our answer is that there is no such thing as bad weather, only inappropriate clothing.

Aldo Leopold wrote that “The penalty of having an ecological education is to live in a world of wounds.” One antidote to Leopold’s dilemma is increased intimacy, knowledge, and depth of experience. Natural history is not just a scientific approach — our responses to the natural world, our feelings, are equally valid. Our feelings call us to action from a different, deeper place than our intellect. We need both. You cannot be a naturalist and not be involved in the natural world. One of my favorite images of naturalists afield was put forth by botanist Art Kruckeberg who said that “a naturalist is an ecologist in short pants.” Get your feet wet and your hands dirty, and don’t forget to have fun!

The following two activities will help take you a little deeper into the natural world. The first focuses on observation skills and recognizing patterns in the natural world; you do not need to know names or taxonomy or natural history to do it. The second is a series of simple exercises recognizing the early signs of spring in the Pacific Northwest. It provides a way to learn basic natural history information — identification of common northwest species — through observation.

ACTIVITY #1— Patterns: An Observation Game

Children are great at finding patterns in the natural world. This activity builds on this ability. This game hones observation skills and helps you recognize and think about simple patterns found between similar or dissimilar objects in nature.

The object of the game is to find and collect ten patterns — groups composed of a mix of three attributes (Shape, texture, color), each divided into three different characteristics. Within each pattern each attribute must be completely similar or completely dissimilar among the three items.

Work singly or in groups and set a loose time limit at first; make it shorter as the participants get better at finding patterns Different habitats will yield a completely different game — think about a beach, a forest and a meadow. Are there other attributes that you could use? How many can you add before the complexity becomes overwhelming? The fun comes when the groups gather to share their items and explain the patterns they have found.

Attributes (and characteristics):

Shape (round, angular, straight)
Texture (smooth, rough, slippery)
Color (greens, browns, grays)

Hint #1: Characteristics are relative — you must decide as a group what is “round” versus what is “angular,” or what is the difference between “slippery” and “smooth.” What characteristics do bigleaf maple leaves or moss share? What if they are wet?

Examples that work

Three things that are similar in all ways:

• straight, smooth, brown ‑ dry pine needle
• straight, smooth, brown – twig
• straight, smooth, brown – dried willow leaf

Three things dissimilar in all ways:

• round, smooth, gray – stone
• straight, rough, brown – stick
• angular, slippery, green – moss

Three things that share two attributes (shape and texture) with a variable third attribute (color):

• round, smooth, gray – stone
• round, smooth, green – leaf
• round, smooth, brown – bark

Hint #2: You have to be able to say “same, same, same,” or “different, different, different” for each of the three characteristics for each attribute. If you can’t, the pattern is broken.

Examples that don’t work:

• round, rough, brown – fir cone (dry)
• round, rough, brown – bark
• round, rough, green – young fir cone
(the color of the young fir cone breaks the pattern)

• round, smooth, gray – rock
• straight, rough, brown – stick
• angular, smooth, green – oak leaf
(texture must either be all the same or all different to make this pattern)

Does this collection fit the pattern?

• round, slippery, gray – wet stone
• angular, slippery, green – square mat of liverwort
• straight, slippery, brown – branch

You can add attributes or characteristics to make the game more complex or more interesting. Use your imagination; now go outside and play!

ACTIVITY #2—Signs of Spring

As naturalists we must use all our senses to explore the world around us. As humans we are limited compared to many other species. We can’t see ultraviolet light like bees, we don’t perceive microscopic amounts of trace chemicals in the water like salmon. Our eyesight is poor compared to a bald eagle, and our sense of smell pales beside the nose of a coyote. We must practice to make best use of the senses we have. Look, listen, touch and smell the first signs of northwest spring. Use field guides to identify what you find. This activity works well for people singly or in groups and can be easily modified to fit the experience level of a group. People living in different places will have different experiences to share. In the early days of spring the numbers of new species to learn is small. It’s a great time to get started being a naturalist. See what’s out there. Learn its name. Talk to it. Introduce it to a friend.

• When does the first butterfly of the year appear? What is it?
Look for mourning cloaks on any warm, sunny winter day, and anglewings in March.

• What is the first plant to bloom in your yard? In your local park? Do flowers or leaves appear first? Indian plum begins blooming in February, red flowering currant and salmonberry in March. All three of these early flowering shrubs develop flowers before developing leaves. Explore south facing slopes for early spring flowers. South facing grasslands and balds in the San Juan Islands are alive with lovely blue grass widows in March.

• When do you first become aware of the rich scent of cottonwoods along rivers and streams?

• When do you first see and hear the croaking of frogs from local wetlands? When do ducklings appear? What species are they?

• Are there any spring plants that feel good? Touch the softness of pussy willows in late January and early February.

• When do birds begin to migrate? What species begin to travel first? Listen for migrating geese and swans in April.

• When do the first ferns begin to unfold?

• When do you first see evidence of birds singing, building nests or defending territories? Which birds set up territories in your year first?

February and March is the best time to begin to learn bird songs. Each week a few new species begin to sing. You can use tapes from the library to identify these common songsters of spring: redwing blackbird, song sparrow, American robin, Bewick’s wren, winter wren, white-crowned sparrow, and varied thrush all begin to sing on a regular basis in February and March.

Acknowledgements

I want to thank Libby Mills and Shelley Weisberg for their gracious assistance and natural history expertise. Many of these ideas have developed through ongoing discussions with Tom Fleishner, Ed Grumbine, Bob Pyle, Wendy Scherrer, and John Miles.

Saul Weisberg is co-founder and Executive Director of North Cascades Institute, a non-profit educational organization dedicated to increasing understanding and appreciation of the natural, historical, and cultural landscapes of the Pacific Northwest. For more information about the Institute’s education programs visit http://www.ncascades.org
Artwork by Joan Barbour

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