As I develop my personal ethic as a nature interpreter, I am reminded of the urgency and responsibility that comes with this role. The world is facing unprecedented environmental challenges, yet our connection to nature is dwindling. As Jacob Rodenburg (2019) mentions, “being an environmental educator in today’s world feels like you are asked to stop a rushing river armed only with a teaspoon”. To further this message, in a climate change discussion presented by the David Suzuki Foundation, it was mentioned that in San Diego, a city surrounded by stunning coastlines, 90% of kids can’t swim, 95% have never been on a boat, and 36% have never even seen the ocean despite living less than 20 minutes away (DavidSuzukiFDN, 2012). Both these points highlight a growing problem that extends beyond just San Diego. It’s a disconnect that, as a nature interpreter, I am committed to solving.
Once I stated this, I realized I might be in over my head by saying “solving” and rather maybe should say alleviate or mitigate. Even with mitigating this gap, I thought where would I start? How can I encourage a generation to care for a world they have rarely even experienced first-hand.
Connecting two worlds: The advantage of my generation:
Being born in the early 2000s, I believe I would have a unique perspective to take this challenge on. I had the advantage of growing up in an environment where outdoor play was common and afternoons were spent exploring the woods, playing sports outside, or simply daydreaming beneath a vast blue sky. I still remember the feeling of endless opportunities while emerging in nature, free of any digital world. During this time, even schooling was different. There was a greater emphasis on hands-on activities, outdoor field trips, and real-world discoveries than on screens and online classes. I have a vivid memory of the evolution of learning boards, which started with plain whiteboards and blackboards, to projectors (figure 1), and then to smartboards and more high-tech equipment.
Does anyone else born in this generation remember this or an evolution like this?
Voting ended onNov 22, 2024
Figure 1: this is an example of a projector that I still vividly remember my teachers using to give lessons. (Whatever Happened to the Overhead Projector?, 2021)
However, I was still young enough to experience the quick shift to a tech-centric lifestyle. As smartphones, tablets, and social media grew more integrated into our daily lives, I saw firsthand outdoor activities take the backseat. Children today, who have never experienced a world without continual digital connectivity, are missing out on the simple pleasures and deep connections that come from connecting with nature.
This dual perspective gives me an advantage when interpreting nature. I understand what today’s children are drawn to in the digital age, but I also recognize the irreplaceable significant of both hands-on and physical experiences. My goal is to use this insight to develop programs that combine the best of both worlds, utilizing technology to enhance, rather than replace, our relationship with nature.
One of my firm views is that everyone, particularly children, has an innate urge to interact with the natural world. Jacob Rodenburg (2019), highlights this through his experiences that younger children are always eager to appreciate nature, all they need is a chance. He describes taking children to wetlands and seeing their faces light up as they discover salamanders and frogs. These experiences have taught me that the first step in encouraging environmental care is to instill a sense of wonder and curiosity.
Since this is a longer post I want to stop here at halfway and give everyone a break from reading and do this activity:
Think of a place in nature that holds a special memory for you- maybe a childhood park, a hidden trail, or even your backyard. Now think about if that is something children growing up now would experience. What did it teach you? How can you use this place to inspire someone else to love the environment?
As a nature interpreter, my job is not only to inform, but to inspire. Interpretation should aim to create memorable, meaningful experiences that inspire action (Beck et al., 2018). This includes acknowledging that both children and adults need to reconnect with nature on their own terms (Beck et al., 2018). It is not enough to discuss climate change or species extinction. Instead, I want to give hands-on, engaging experiences that will make people care profoundly about the environment around them. I can even do this by incorporating technologies, such as microscopes, magnifying glasses, and telescopes to look at nature. For example, when I was young my dad showed me how you can hold a magnifying glass up to a leaf in the sun, and the leaf will get a hole burnt in it. I still remember this experience to this day.
Here you can see a video of this in action:
https://www.shutterstock.com/video/clip-5804798-scout-burning-leaves-by-loupe-tries-holding
Futher, the identification of global warming as a severe hazard is not a new development. At the 1988 global conference, Steve Lewis and other renowned scientists raised the alarm about the dangers of climate change, urging the world to act. Despite decades of growing scientific data, development has halted and, in some cases, reversed (DavidSuzukiFDN, 2012). This lack of momentum is that the method was frequently based on just providing data and using fear to elicit change, rather than developing compelling, meaningful experiences that could inspire a deeper, long-term connection to the subject.
An interpreting technique that appeals to me is one that mixes storytelling and discovery. Rodenburg's significance on micro-environments serves as an inspiration for me when writing for younger readers (Jacob Rodenburg, 2019). Instead of bombarding children with information about vanishing glaciers or plastic-filled oceans, I can focus on the simple wonders right in their own backyard. For example, how he brought up the idea to take them to a local park and ask, "I wonder who lives under this rock?" so when they lift it and discover a wiggling earthworm or a little salamander, they feel as if that was their own discovery (Jacob Rodenburg, 2019). It's a time of pure exhilaration, where the thrill of discovery creates a deeper, more personal relationship to nature, instilling an actual care for the environment.
I also believe in the power of storytelling. By crafting narratives about the plants, animals, and landscapes around us, I can turn facts into intriguing stories that pique the imagination. This strategy not only makes knowledge more memorable, but it also helps people create a stronger emotional bond with their surroundings by transforming abstract concepts into relatable, lived experiences (Beck et al., 2018).
Quick interactive moment: What's one tiny thing you can do today to reconnect with nature? It may be as simple as planting a flower, clearing up trash. or taking a few minutes tonight to observe the stars.
Beck, L., Beck, L., Cable, T. T., & Knudson, D. M. (2018). Interpreting cultural and natural heritage: For a Better World.
DavidSuzukiFDN. (2012, July 20). David Suzuki and Richard Louv @AGO [Video]. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F5DI1Ffdl6Y
Jacob Rodenburg. (2019, June 17). Why environmental educators shouldn’t give up hope | CLEARING: PNW Journal of Environmental Education in the Pacific Northwest. https://clearingmagazine.org/archives/14300
Whatever happened to the overhead projector? (2021, November 15). Larry Cuban on School Reform and Classroom Practice. https://larrycuban.wordpress.com/2021/11/15/whatever-happened-to-the-overhead-projector/