IV_ENVS3000_F24

Created for ENVS 3000

[ivenvs3000f24]

Disclaimer

This blog was created for the ENVS 3000 course at the University of Guelph. 

The opinions expressed here represent my own and not those of the University of Guelph. 

The University of Guelph is not responsible for the accuracy of any of the information supplied by this blog.

[ivenvs3000f24]

Final thoughts (not my unit 10 post)

Just wanted to say that this course has really encouraged me to slow down and savor my time in nature. Whether that means watching this absolutely gorgeous rainbow until it had fully vanished...

...or spending some time laughing at this squirrel eating a pumpkin....

....or studying in the Arboretum back when the weather was hovering at that pleasant fall temperature...

...or dilly-dallying through the Dairy Bush in my spare time... I've been finding more small ways I can incorporate nature into my day-to-day life. And that intentional outreach has most definitely been fueled by our weekly readings and topics.

I think that it's incredibly important to appreciate the nature around us for what it is-- odd, imperfect, and incredibly beautiful. To grow our own personal relationship with nature and then share that joy (and anger and sadness) with others in creative ways. To funnel our passion into advocating for a more nature friendly future. I feel like I've got a new little toolkit that I'm excited to use.

So, in conclusion... thanks :)

[fbenvs3000f24]

Unit 10 Blog Post

Describe your personal ethic as you develop as a nature interpreter. What beliefs do you bring? What responsibilities do you have? What approaches are most suitable for you as an individual?

Throughout my life, and now throughout this course, my love for nature has grown and evolved quite a bit leading to the interpreter I am today. I feel that each week through the assigned textbook and supplemental readings, along with the blog prompts and getting to read others’ posts, I have been able to learn a lot about my personal ethic as an interpreter. 

Me out in Lake Erie enjoying nature!

For me, I believe that the interpretation of nature through a variety of goggles is the best way to go about it. In fact, I believe that you cannot only interpret nature under one lens, you need a mixture of outlooks to truly understand and appreciate the natural world. As a science major, it is easy for me to believe that science is one of the most crucial ways we can interpret nature because it brings along an understanding of what exactly we are seeing around us. Understanding why plants are green or why chipmunks may be burying their food helps to provide a deeper understanding and appreciation of our environment. As mentioned in one of week five’s supplemental readings, complicated issues such as the loss of biodiversity gain a lot of support when community members are taught about, and engaged in, the science behind it (Wals et al., 2014). By interpreting nature through a scientific lens we are better able to make sure people are informed about what is really going on around them and hopefully inspire them to take action when the natural world around them is at risk. 

Sea stars I collected for experiments in a marine research course!

Even though I believe that science is necessary when interpreting nature, I do not think it would provide someone with everything they needed to love nature for all that it is. While science provides an understanding of what is going on, it sometimes lacks emotion. I believe that a major part of nature is the emotions that it provides to the interpreter and one of the main ways to feel those emotions is through forging a more personal connection through the arts. Whether that be through painting, drawing, crafts, music, or any other form of art, it is what truly connects us to nature. Taking something as simple as a lone tree in a field and interpreting it in a way that is personal to you, making something physical out of what you are seeing, is the most pure form of interpretation in my mind. Boeckel et al (2015)., mention that there is a disenchantment of the world occurring along with a loss of direct nature experiences. I feel that by taking what we see in nature and making something out of it we are effectively reconnecting with it because we have to take the time to be immersed in it to generate ideas on what to make. 

Park near my house where I like to go and paint what I see!

Without artistic interpretations of nature we lack connection, but without scientific interpretations we lack understanding. This is why I believe we cannot simply pick one method of interpretation and run with it.

As an interpreter I believe that I have many responsibilities. First of all it is my responsibility to ensure that everyone feels included. This involves unpacking invisible knapsacks as learned in week three. Making sure that each and every participant has the same tools available to them, either literal or metaphorical, to truly understand and appreciate what is around them is key. If someone felt like they were at a disadvantage due to a lack of education, experience, or anything else then they would not be properly able to enjoy nature as they may be feeling othered. It is a responsibility of mine to be extra observant and make sure that this does not happen. Another responsibility I carry is making sure that everyone is being respectful with the natural world, myself included. Whether it's leading a hike or a camping trip or anything else outdoors there is a possibility for people to treat nature unkindly. Maybe it's by throwing their food wrappers on the ground or unnecessarily killing bugs around them for being “creepy”. When we are in and around nature it is our responsibility to treat it with care so that future generations can have the same experiences as us. As an interpreter I feel a sense of leadership and responsibility that includes keeping our forests, beaches, and other environments clean. Another responsibility of mine is to appeal to each and every learning style. In the course content we discussed tactile, auditory, and visual, but the textbook goes on to provide many others. Things like logical-mathematical, inter- and intrapersonal and many more were mentioned (Beck et al., 2018). I feel it is my duty to truly understand what each one involves and what strengths/weaknesses someone with that learning style may face when it comes to interpretation. A final responsibility I feel I have as an interpreter relates to what I wrote about above. I feel it is my duty to ensure that all aspects of interpretation are being included when out in nature. Providing the science behind why something is the way it is then going into artistic interpretations of it to make sure that everyone gets the whole picture is key. In the future I will strive to interpret in a way that incorporates it all to give participants the best shot at finding something they can connect to in nature. 

As an individual I feel I am best suited to do all that I have mentioned in this blog. I am a science student which helps me with scientific interpretations, but I also have a love for being creative which would help me with the artistic part. I definitely feel as though these weekly blog posts have helped me better understand who I am as an interpreter and what works best for me. I have learned quite a bit about myself during this course and I cannot wait to use all that I have learned in the future to be the best interpreter I can!

I cannot wait to read everyone else’s blogs this week and I hope everyone has a great rest of their semester!

References

Beck, L., Cable, T. T., & Knudson, D. M. (2018). Interpreting cultural and natural heritage: For A Better World. SAGAMORE Publishing, Sagamore Venture. 

van Boeckel, J. (2015). At the heart of art and earth: an exploration of practices in arts-based environmental education. Environmental Education Research, 21(5), 801–802. https://doi.org/10.1080/13504622.2014.959474 

Wals, A. E.J., Brody, M., Dillon, J., Stevenson, R. B. (2014). Convergence Between Science and Environmental Education. Science 344,583-584. 10.1126/science.1250515

[ivenvs3000f24]

I love the metaphor you used of a "variety of goggles" to interpret nature through. It made me picture someone selecting a pair of swimming goggles from a pile before jumping into the lake, and discovering when they open their eyes that the ecological relationships among the living things in the lake are suddenly illuminated. When they put on another pair of googles and jump in again, this time they can see the beauty of those relationships in an artistic manner.

Needless to say, I find a lot of value in your multi-lens approach to nature interpretation. Learning more about science can lead to deeper understanding and appreciation, while art provides that emotional connection sometimes lacked by the sciences. Different people may be drawn to different approaches, but ultimately I think it's a combination of different ways of seeing that draws people into nature. And, of course, science can be beautiful, and art can be based heavily on science, and if you think about it too much they both muddle together eventually.

Your list of responsibilities is very extensive and covers a lot of different areas of interpretation. I like the emphasis you place on emotional safety by making inclusion a top priority. Your commitment to inclusion is also shown by your thoughts on appealing to various learning styles and methods of interpretation. Appealing to multiple learning styles ensures that everyone is able to follow along and learn along the way. Finally, including respect to the natural world as a responsibility really emphasizes the core component of this course: nature. In the end, that's what we're all here for.

I very much enjoyed reading and responding to your post, and hope that the rest of the semester goes well for you!

[akhenvs3000f24]

Unit 10 Blog Post

As I reflect on my journey toward becoming a nature interpreter, I realize that the foundation of my ethic is rooted in the belief that fostering a love for the natural world is one of the most powerful ways to inspire long-term environmental stewardship. Through my experiences, particularly with a background in working with children, I’ve come to understand that the most enduring memories and connections to the environment often begin in childhood. This early spark can shape how individuals relate to nature throughout their lives, influencing how they advocate for the planet.

As I continue to develop in this field, and from what I have gathered in this course, I understand there is a lot of work required to successfully strike a balance between imparting knowledge, inspiring curiosity, and empowering others to connect with the natural world in a meaningful way. For me, nature interpretation, and many of my previous jobs haven't just been about conveying facts— it’s about cultivating a sense of wonder and inspiration. Specifically for nature interpretation its about imparting a sense of responsibility and a sense of care for the Earth that will last a lifetime.

One of the key principles that shapes my personal perspective is the deep conviction that fostering a love for nature in children is essential for the future of the planet. This belief stems from my own experiences of watching young learners light up with wonder during hands-on, community STEM workshops in my previous job, and it is reinforced by insights from environmental educators like Jacob Rodenburg, who emphasizes the importance of creating nature-rich experiences for children (Rodenburg, 2019).

Looking back at the Unit 1 posts for this course— I personally wrote about my childhood nature experiences, and how that had the biggest impact on my relationship with nature. Specifically, my cottage. Even looking at my most recent post— the natural phenomena I find most amazing is tied to fond childhood memories of watching fireflies dance in the night. Looking back at my favourite memories in nature, there always seems to be a magical quality to childhood memories. Whether it's simply the innocence and childlike wonder we're remembering feeling, or just being feeling nostalgic for the past, there's something extra special about our experiences as children. I truly believe that the experiences I had in nature as a child are the most impactful ones, because they just have an extra emotional kick to them. Growing up spending summers at my family cottage is a central part of my relationship to nature, and my life in general. Whether it was early mornings spent fishing with Dad, long hikes through the woods with my neighbours and sister, or simply observing the subtle changes in the landscape throughout the seasons. There is one tree by the lake, a little maple tree, that always turns a deep red by the end of August, way before the rest of the trees do. Seeing this tree go red year after year has become an important marker in my life of change. Each time I see it, I know that summer is coming to an end soon, and that the fall is on it's way. My childhood experiences at my cottage, and even further on in my life, have taught me to value the simplicity of nature— it offers both peace and profound lessons. For example, moments like watching a sunset, hearing the call of a loon, or noticing the colour change of the trees became more than just pleasant experiences for me; they became moments of reflection, connection, and gratitude.

As I've been thinking about the part that my childhood experiences played in me becoming such an avid lover of the outdoors, I can't help but return to the concept of a "sense of place". Having thought about this, I definitely believe that a strong sense of place in nature often stems from positive experiences in nature as a kid. When you grow up surrounded by nature, you can't help but feel more and more enveloped by it, and I feel like my sense of belonging has only grown throughout time at special places like my cottage. Fostering a connection to a specific place is something that Rodenburg emphasized in his article (Rodenburg, 2019). Just as I have personally developed a deep connection to a unique place, so has everyone else in this course. I think the fact that my connection began when I was little, I almost perceive those places as a "magical place" that I can return to. It's a certain feeling that I'm not entirely sure how to describe, but I can certainly say that this is a central motivation that would guide me as a nature interpreter— to help children and adults develop a sense of ownership and familiarity with the places they explore.

Today, the challenges facing the environment— from climate change to species extinction— can feel overwhelming. I have definitely felt defeated at many times, especially when I am actively taking environmental science courses and learning more and more about the issues we face. As Rodenburg points out, the weight of these issues often leads educators to feel like they’re trying to stop a rushing river with a teaspoon (Rodenburg, 2019). The urgency to address these complex problems is real, but I firmly believe that the role of a nature interpreter, particularly when working with children, is to ignite hope and wonder, rather than burden young minds with the enormity of global crises. If I am struggling to manage my own emotions on these problems at 21, it would certainly unfair to put those problems on the shoulders of a child. This approach aligns with my ethic: fostering connections to nature in ways that empower children to care for the world around them, without overwhelming them with the dire realities of environmental degradation. I think this concept can be applied to pretty much anything in life— if you fill people's heads with negativity, they start to feel defeated, and are not motivated to do anything about it. A lot of the news nowadays is so extremely pessimistic, and it can sometimes feel like the world is too far gone to change. I truly believe that the world's most prominent environmental activists and nature interpreters didn't fall in love with the planet because it was dying. They fell in love because of the beauty and wonder they experienced one or many times in their life or childhood. So to rob children of the opportunity to innocently explore nature, without having to worry if tomorrow it won't be there, I think will be damaging to future conservation efforts, and also to their personal relationships with the environment. The next generation is depending on us, and we have a responsibility to provide unburdened activities where children can grow and learn outdoors. Until they're old enough to tackle these issues alongside us, it's better we leave them out of that conversation.

So long story short, I personally hold the belief that children don’t need to be lectured about global warming or pollution at a young age, but rather encouraged to explore, discover, and build relationships with the land they live on. Rodenburg emphasizes that younger children aren’t yet cognitively ready to grasp the complexities of environmental issues, but they are always ready to love nature (Rodenburg, 2019). As a nature interpreter, my responsibility is to nurture that love by providing experiences that spark awe and curiosity. I’ve witnessed firsthand how powerful these moments can be— whether it's a child’s delighted reaction to finding a salamander under a log or their awe at the beauty of a tiny insect in the grass. One of the most special memories I can recall from being a STEM Community Presenter, are the times during a workshop where the kids would combine baking soda and vinegar, and were always delighted at the fizzy reaction that ensued. Watching their faces light up, having them turn to me for an explanation, and then watching the gears turn in their head as they understood what was happening in front of them really felt like I was fostering the first of many moments of falling in love with science. I truly believe the same should be striven for in the case of nature interpreters. These experiences don’t just build knowledge; they create an emotional bond with the environment that will last a lifetime.

Personally, when I consider what I would love to do as a nature interpreter, I am really excited about the prospect of using art as a bridge to nature. I have always been a bit of a creative mind, since I was young I have loved drawing and painting with watercolours. In the past I have also been a camp counsellor at arts camps. Since taking this course, I have looked back on many of my artworks and found a common theme of always painting stuff that I loved or was passionate about. With this in mind, I believe that art, something that can be so emotionally powerful, is a fantastic tool to foster love for the environment (which we have certainly seen in Unit 4!). Creating art— whether it’s sketching plants, painting landscapes, or capturing wildlife in a work of art— enhances your understanding and appreciation of the natural world. For me, I responsibility I would like to uphold would be showing that art can be more than a hobby; it can be a way to reflect on nature’s beauty, its intricacies, and its rhythms. In a future setting, as a nature interpreter facilitating activities, I believe I would excel at designing art activities to help children capture the beauty of the environments around them, making them more mindful and observant of even the smallest details in nature.

Overall, as someone who is a lover of both arts and science, I would love for my future nature interpretation journey to be about blending beauty with facts. Whether it's understanding an ecosystem, identifying insect or plant species, or observing animal behaviour— I think it will be so important to also foster an appreciation for its aesthetic and emotional aspects. I would love to create activities that combine observation with creation. For instance, I would love to encourage nature journaling, sketching, and storytelling to help people see nature from both and intellectual and an emotional perspective. And specifically to children, this kind of dual approach could help them engage and fall in love with nature on multiple levels, fostering both their scientific understanding and their creative imagination.

To quickly touch on a belief that I bring to nature interpretation, I truly believe that mentors are a key part of who and where I am today. Whether it be parents, teachers, or other influential figures in my life, they have shaped my journey through their guidance and encouragement. Although looking back it may seem insignificant, teachers who brought my elementary classes on field trips to outdoor conservation areas, to art museums, or to the science center, all provided me with formative experiences. These trips and the mentors who organized them helped me see the value in nurturing relationships with the things that inspire you, and nature is certainly one of them. In my journey of nature interpretation, my goal would be to become a mentor to others, particularly children. I aspire to provide the same kind of guidance and inspiration that my mentors gave me, whether it's through sharing knowledge, fostering creativity and freedom, or simply offering a listening ear.

Lasltly, I'd like to discuss how this course has been a reminder that my personal journey with nature is ongoing. I just spoke a lot about how childhood is the most important part where a deep connection to nature begins, but that doesn't mean that as an adult we aren't capable of growth and progress. Loving nature can be a lifelong process of discovery and learning, and I find that this mindset is an inspiring way to frame my approach to nature interpretation. Nature, a lot like art, is always in flux, and my role as a nature interpreter would be to help others embrace that flux and be open to new discoveries. Whether that will be through scientific exploration, creative expression, or personal reflection, I am yet to see.

As a closing note, I just wanted to mention that I have thoroughly appreciated this course this semester. I have been working with a busier schedule than I ever have before, and my classwork and courses are typically a reason for me to stay inside and work. However, this course this semester provided a fantastic weekly reminder to take time for myself, and spend time outside. I believe it was very beneficial to my mental health, and has made me subscribe to the ideals of nature interpretation— most of all what it can provide to our spirits and our souls. Spreading that love for nature this semester has been extremely rewarding. Thanks so much for reading!

References Rodenburg, J. (2019). Why environmental educators shouldn’t give up hope. Clearing Magazine. https://clearingmagazine.org/archives/14300

[ivenvs3000f24]

This was an incredibly thoughtful post that very effectively drew connections between your own positionality and your current ethical beliefs in nature interpretation. In particular, the recurring theme of childhood really shows how effective nature interpretation can be for young learners. I also have many positive memories associated with nature from childhood, and worry that the scary realities of climate change and environmental degradation will make young people turn away from nature. Afterall, if you feel like you can’t fix something, what’s the point in trying?

Your ideas about instilling a sense of awe and wonder in kids before introducing them to environmental issues is very inspiring. I think that you can definitely be a mentor for young people! You’ve got some great practical ideas for helping kids connect with nature that overlap with the arts and discovery approaches.

I am also very glad to hear that this course has helped  your personal relationship with nature grow and develop. I’ve also appreciated the encouragement to get outside and experience nature, and have found myself taking more walks outside and spending more time studying outdoors. As a student it can be difficult to find the time for these things, but they are great for my mental health. It’s also a very good reminder to myself about why I’m studying ecology.

I hope that the end of the semester goes well for you, and that you are able to find lots of opportunities to mentor young people and help them experience the beauty of nature.

[ivenvs3000f24]

10: Interpretation ethics

As an ex-Catholic, I spent a good amount of time in my teens thinking about how my personal ethics and rules on morality both differ from and sometimes agree with Catholicism. However, I haven’t really taken the time since  then to extend my personal ethics past post-Catholic discourse and relate it to my environmental values. I think it’s very valuable to be aware of your own ethical stances in terms of interpretation. Our ethics are the filter that shapes how we interpret nature, whether or not we acknowledge it. And that interpretation is then past on to our audience.

The first belief I bring to nature interpretation is kindness. Showing kindness to the nature around us means walking lightly and respectfully as we explore. Showing kindness to each other means creating a space where everyone feels able to ask questions and learn. I believe that kindness is one of the key elements that goes into creating a welcoming environment. And welcoming environments set up the possibility for growth and learning.

I also believe that curiosity and discovery lead to caring. It’s very difficult to care about something that you don’t know much about. But by encouraging questions, sharing facts/stories, and pointing out the beauty all around us, a nature interpreter can create connections between their audience and nature. In tandem with curiosity and discovery, is the power of awe. I want to get people excited about that cliff, that leaf, that creek. Wonder is a very powerful tool.

Spent a very long time staring at this view awestruck when I visited Vancouver last summer

Interpretation also comes with many responsibilities. When you act as a nature interpreter, people are putting their trust in you to act responsibly in your role. The basis of this trust is safety. Like we learned from the Timiskaming Tragedy, a lot of things can go wrong in outdoor education spaces. Physical safety means being prepared for hazards, natural disasters and changing weather. But emotional safety also play an important role. Words have power. And that power can be used to harm others if wielded carelessly or irresponsibly. Sensitive topics have to be addressed with care and nuance. Your audience should feel welcome and included in the space you create, through the language used and interpretation employed.

I also think that nature interpreters have a responsibility to convey accuracy whenever possible. This is especially important when interpreting for children, who may not have the skills to properly fact-check your claims. Adult audiences also deserve access to well researched and meaningful information. Working as a nature interpreter means positioning yourself as an expert, and your audience is placing their trust in you to know what you are talking about. I believe in putting in the time and effort to research a topic fully before you share it with others.

There are several interpretation approaches that work best for me as an individual. And those approaches vary greatly by age group. For kids, who often have short attention spans, I think that exploration and games work best. Exploration allows kids to experience nature on their own terms and form a more personal relationship with the world around them. It also allows for the reintroduction of unstructured play that is missing from many kids lives. Giving kids a magnifying glass and a simple objective (eg. “Find as many colour as you can!”) gives them the opportunity to look closer at their surroundings and discover something new.

Games are also a powerful tool for interpretation. Minds often wander during lengthy explanation, but games keep kids focused and their attention on the task at hand. They can also help simplify complex topics and break them down into bite sized pieces. As an example, at my summer job last year, I ran a workshop for 10–12 year-olds who were planting a pollinator garden at their school. I wanted to convey the importance of building new pollinator habitat and introduce them to the concept of habitat fragmentation. So, I created a game that was kind of a mashup of musical chairs and shrinking islands. I placed picnic blankets (“habitats”) on the floor and told the children to pretend to be their favorite pollinator. As the music played, they could fly around, and when it stopped, they needed to find a habitat to stand on. As the game progressed, the habitats kept getting smaller and smaller as I folded down the picnic blankets to represent habitat destruction. Near the end of the game, we added another picnic blanket to represent the new habitat the students were creating. The game showed the students the importance of their garden, while also engaging them with the power of fun.

For adults, I think the best approaches for me to use are storytelling and writing. Stories have staying power, and also allow people to come to their own conclusions in a very fluid way. If I tell you about how I tried (and failed) to stop a park tree from being cut down when I was in the second grade, the take home message can be very different depending on how I spin the story and your own personal beliefs. You might walk away thinking about the importance of urban trees, the emotional bonds kids form with nature, or how privilege impacts how people engage with activism.

Article from The Stoney Creek News

From a personal standpoint, I think that writing is an approach that I am very drawn to. I enjoy the act of writing and like that I can fine-tune my words until I am satisfied. Evocative language can really come alive on the page, and writing allows lots of space for larger ideas to be explored. And, as a creative writing and ecology student, writing about nature in an interpretive way seems like the natural way to blend my two areas of study.

I know that my personal ethic will continue to develop and change as I grow as an interpreter. I’m looking forward to adding more nuance and challenging my own perspective.

[smenvs3000f24]

Unit 9 Blog #1

If you were anything like me as a kid, I bet you spent some time flipping over rocks and logs to discover tiny animals hidden beneath. Maybe you found salamanders, worms, and beetles, maybe something even more exciting for a young mind investigating nature for the first time. I can almost guarantee that something you found while doing this was a hectic, bustling colony of ants. I know when this used to happen to me, I would jump backwards, startled and somewhat unsettled by the squirming pile of tiny bugs, but as I became accustomed to this sight, I would notice how organized these insects seemed to be, gathering up the larvae and eggs and marching them into the tunnels to remove them from this newly exposed section of their home. After a while, I began to have an appreciation for these tiny workers.

As a group that is often overlooked and found to be more of a nuisance than anything else, ants aren’t usually the target of discussions promoting insects, although I hope some of this perspective can be changed eventually. It is much easier to sell a crowd on what we call the “charismatic megafauna” of insects. Things like praying mantises, monarch butterflies, and the large and colourful beetles of the world are easier to convince people to care about than flies, ants, or biting and stinging insects that people are predisposed to dislike. I believe that this could go into a deeper discussion about how we place more value on things that are more visually appealing or clearly benefit us, but that is another topic.

I’m going to delve into a couple of aspects of ant life that many people wouldn’t know about in hopes of instilling that just because these creatures are tiny and may be seen as a nuisance to us, they have been evolving and living their own complex lifestyles for such a long time, and deserve at the minimum respect (because despite my endearment for these little insects, I know this isn’t realistic to expect from others). I bet you never would’ve guessed that ants engage in agriculture! Some ant species keep other insects as livestock in the same way we keep cows. A group that can often be found in these livestock roles are Hemipterans, common name “true bugs”, funnily enough. Aphids are one example of Hemipterans often kept as livestock, and ants will feed them, take honeydew they produce for their own food (much like us milking cows), and even cull their population for protein when it is large enough. Other ant species are known to keep gardens of fungus or plants, some even going to the extent of producing herbicides to maintain these gardens and co-evolving with the gardened plant species.

Ants are so complex, and I truly encourage anyone interested to look into them more, and for everyone, perhaps consider why it is that we value those “charismatic megafauna” insects more than smaller, less visually appealing ones.

[ivenvs3000f24]

That was a fascinating read-- thanks for bringing my attention to ants and some of their interesting behaviors and features. I think that part of our apathy towards ants stems from how common they are perceived to be. If they're everywhere, they can't be that special right? But that viewpoint overlooks their role in soil aeration and nutrient cycling, as well as their intrinsic value as a species.

I did not know that ants engage in agriculture. I wonder what other "human" behaviors are actually more common in nature than we think. I also wonder what important species are overlooked for those who are perceived to be more charismatic. I recognize the importance of charismatic species in conservation; getting the public to rally behind one animal can help preserve their ecosystems for all those who share it. But lack of attention towards those species deemed "uncharismatic" can cause them to be understudied and overlooked. Why should the value of a species be assigned because of human aesthetic preferences? That seems like a very unfair system.

If you're interested in some work that brings attention to ants, I would highly recommend this creative piece that was published in the New Yorker. It's a short story that explores ant survival and decline through creative writing.

Trailhead

I think that putting a "face" on a species can help audiences to connect with them more and appreciate their role in the ecosystem. This story also shows the power of writing as an interpretive tool.

[ivenvs3000f24]

9: The Weird Stuff (the most amazing thing I know about nature)

As every student of biology knows, classifying living things is simple. You got your prokaryotes and your eukaryotes, which feature plants, animals, fungi and protists. And everything that has ever lived and is currently living fits neatly into one of those categories, right? Umm… not quite.

Nature is messy. Nature is weird. And I would love to talk about some of its strange creatures that I’ve encountered, both in person and through school.

First up, we’ve got the leaf slug. Also known as a leaf sheep, Costasiella kuroshimae is a herbivorous mollusk found in oceans throughout southern Asia.

From Randi Ang/Getty Images

I think my botany prof mentioned this species in passing one time, and I’ve been enamored with them ever since. Why was my botany prof talking about a species that is clearly an animal? Because they display a type of symbiosis called kelptoplasty. Leaf slugs spend their lives grazing on green algae, which they only partially digest. This partial digestion allows them to maintain the intact chlorophyll within their cerata (those little green spikes on their back) and utilize them for photosynthesis. The BBC describes them as “solar powered slugs.”  Photosynthesis isn’t just for plants.

And not all plants perform photosynthesis. Meet the ghost pipe.

I took the above photo while on a walk at Turkey Point. My partner and I were fooling around with Seek, the plant ID app associated with iNaturalist, and decided to see what the weird white flower by the side of the trail was called. And it’s weird.

Ghost pipe doesn’t have any chloroplasts at all. Instead, it acts like a parasite on nearby fungi to drain them of nutrients, as well as stealing energy from other nearby photosynthetic plants. This strange way of getting food means that it can grow in dark environments and doesn’t have any colour. It’s definitely a plant, but it’s got a very unique life strategy.

Last up, I really want to talk about slime molds. Which, although slimy, aren’t technically mold.

The above photos features (what is likely) “dog vomit” slime mold that I encountered at the RBG’s Arboretum. I’ve also seen slime molds in wood chip piles and dark forest soil. Despite the fact that molds are typically fungi, slime molds are classified as protists. Protists are essentially the “we don’t know” category of biology. If it's a eukaryote, but can't be called a plant, an animal or a fungi, then it's a protist. Slime mold are a type of ancient amoeba that is mostly famous for being much smarter than you’d expect of an ancient amoeba.

Slime molds spend most of their lives as single celled organisms but form massive moving colonies to eat and reproduce. They inch very slowly, but surely, towards their goal. These colonies have a fascinating type of intelligence that allows them to find the fastest route to food and problem solve along the way. In experiments, they’ve recreated various public transit systems and usually find the most efficient way to get through a maze. The journal Nature also describes some studies that may indicate they keep time as well.

The more I learn about ecology and biology, the more I appreciate the weirdness that nature has to offer. Categories are human made after all, and there will always be organisms that surprise us and challenge our expectations.

Note: Although I knew most of the information in this post from past research, I did consult some sources to make sure I was accurate, and learned some new things along the way 😊

Leaf slugs: Caballar, R. D. (2021, March 25). The “sheep” that can photosynthesise. BBC. https://www.bbc.com/travel/article/20210324-the-odd-sea-creature-powered-by-the-sun

Ghost pipe: Ghost pipe. (n.d.). Nature Conservancy of Canada. Retrieved November 9, 2024, from https://www.natureconservancy.ca/en/what-we-do/resource-centre/featured-species/plants/ghost-pipe.html

Slime molds: Jabr, F. (2012). How brainless slime molds redefine intelligence. Nature, nature.2012.11811. https://doi.org/10.1038/nature.2012.11811

[ivenvs3000f24]

7: Music and nature

Where is music in nature? 

Oxford languages defines music as “vocal or instrumental sounds (or both) combined in such a way as to produce beauty of form, harmony, and expression of emotion.”

Birdsong certainly fulfils this definition. Their form is beautiful, they harmonise wonderfully, and although I can't speak to emotions, there is definitely a purpose behind their song. 

(I looked up “why do birds sing” and found out from the American Bird Conservancy that it's mostly to woo mates and defend territory- that sounds like emotion laden purposes to me. They also learn their songs from their parents, so different regions have different songs.)

Whale songs, crickets, wolves and cicadas also fall into this definition, in my opinion. 

But I think that music can be found in less orderly  forms within nature as well. And that means that the definition above has to change for this context. 

Do the waves crashing at a beach create sound to express emotion? No. Do they have much harmony? No. Is their form beautiful? Most certainly yes. And I would call that music.

Another example: I was walking in the Dairy Bush last week. The fall leaves were crisp and falling off the trees. The sky was a bold and beautiful blue. I hit record on my phone and the sound of my feet moving over the decomposing leaves on the ground sounds pretty musical to me. Not purposeful music, not harmonious, and maybe not even beautiful in the sense that it makes listening easy. But there was something about the sound and the experience of moving through a changing season that made it inexplicably music-like. 

The music found in nature might not have a sonic “shape” or a particular purpose. It may not even sound nice. But certain sounds in nature invite you to listen closer. They draw you in.  That's why I would define music in nature as “sounds that invite you to pay attention” 

Where is nature in music?

I'm going out on a bit of a limb here. Please know that this is my own speculation endorsed by no one. But indulge me for a minute. 

A lot of human inventions are inspired by nature (all inventions sourced from the Biomimicry website.) 

Airplanes were inspired by birds.

Velcro is our imitation of burrs.

Umbrellas were inspired by giant lily leaves.

Music is ancient. Its origins are contentious and it's debated whether music or language evolved first (Psychology Today). But I would not be surprised if nature inspired music.

 Maybe by imitating bird calls, thunderclaps and wolves our ancestors found a new form of expression. One that would eventually lead to Bollywood numbers, jazz, Kwassa kwassa, Muqam, heavy metal, and any other style of music that you can think of. It’s worth a thought. 

In terms of songs that remind me of nature, I think I’d have to go with “Lucky” by MALINDA. It feels like a breath of fresh air with a loved one on the first day of spring. 

(I recognize that this blog post is definitely too late for anyone to reply to-- quite sorry, it’s been a Week.) 

Sources:

Psychology Today: https://www.google.com/amp/s/www.psychologytoday.com/intl/blog/your-musical-self/201209/which-came-first-music-or-language%3famp

Bird Conservancy: https://abcbirds.org/birdsong/

Bimimicry: https://www.learnbiomimicry.com/blog/history-of-biomimicry 

Oxford dictionary: https://g.co/kgs/7https://g.co/kgs/7T3xUceT3xUce

[empenvs3000f24]

Unit 6 Blog Post

Hi everyone!

I’d like to begin this blog post by saying that I think acknowledging historic events is truly the only way we can grow and learn as a society. I feel like the Edward Hyams quote presented really hones in on this notion and does a great job at expressing the importance of value in knowledge and not necessarily in objects. It’s true, “There is no peculiar merit in ancient things”, rather, there is merit in the ways that we interpret the ‘thing’ and how we can communicate how it has impacted history via nature. For example, the removing of colonial statues in Toronto allowed a good opportunity to learn and truly understand how much weight an object can hold. In the context of Canada, a colonial statue is not just a person made of metal; it represents the takeover of certain demographics and cultural genocide that still effects our society to this day. I would have liked to see them integrated into a museum display with plaques that properly address the harm that these figures have played a role in. Public art is a great way to educate passerby’s and we can mould these negative figureheads into a learned experience through writing. 

In the American History TV interview with Robert Sutton he mentions layering the interpretation experience for guests. When discussing the Pea Ridge battle and Cherokees, he explains that the Trail of Tears falls into the middle of a National Park. The park has a guided tour that immerses guests into the history, but they also recommend that guests visit the capital of the Cherokee nation of Tahlequah; which is not far from the park. The goal of nature interpretation is to leave guests with a lasting impact. By recommending they visit different sites to learn more, it can enhance their experience. This does not have to take away from the nature or draw customers away. Perhaps Tahlequah will have public art, museums, or personal anecdotes that a scenic park might not convey in the same manner. 

Writing is oftentimes the best method of information permanence. We tend to forget spoken word, mix up details of a story, or have trouble recalling events chronologically. While writing does not address every learning style, the ways that we can reflect that writing into different mediums, does. If we were to all disappear from the planet, what information could we convey? Words and images seem to be the primary source of developing past historical events, and we can still use these techniques to ensure that our own present life is well-documented. Back to the colonial statue example…a tourist could see that statue and think that Torontonians feel positively about a specific historical figure, when that might not be the case. Words in combination with an image can help to place merit into the object and set the scene. Without words and information, a park is just a park and a statue is just an old figure. It is our duty as nature interpreters to leave accurate information before it does turn into an ancient memory. 

Thank you for reading :)

[ivenvs3000f24]

Hi Emily,

Thank you for your thoughtful post! I like how you discussed colonial stature removal as an opportunity for renewed discussion and education. Leaving these statues up sends the message that these towering figures should be honoured. This effect is achieved because of their imposing physicality, and associations we make between statues and "honouring legacies."

Your description of nature interpretation being the glue that holds the stories of history and nature together is very thought provoking, especially in terms of permeance. Although it is a bit eerie to think that we are being "watched by history," that is kind of the case. Why do you think it's important to record our current history as honestly as possible?

I agree with your assessment that "Words in combination with an image can help to place merit into the object and set the scene." But even if we were to leave the statues but add plaques which accurately depicting these figures' racist histories, their effect might be minimal because not everyone reads plaques. Placing the statues in a museum instead encourages visitors to slow down, read, and think about history.

It is also important to depict that history in a variety of ways to reach as many people as possible, even within museums. For example, through art (reworking the statues into a contemporary art project), oral storytelling, and presenting the statues in context with other historical items.

Have a great week!

-Illyria

[ivenvs3000f24]

6: Unpacking

I like the idea of “unpacking” a quote. I think there’s a kind of beauty in the metaphor. I can picture the quote encased in a suitcase, and see myself carefully taking out each item to lay out and examine.

Edward Hyams, Chapter 7, The Gifts of Interpretation

The first piece of the quote I am drawing out of the suitcase is:

“There is no peculiar merit in ancient things,”

I think this is a bold statement to make. After all, aren’t there certain things we only really value because they are old? A piece of pottery dug up at an archeology site might have been worthless to whoever discarded it, but now warrants a place in a museum. How will this statement be justified in the remainder of the quote?

“but there is merit in integrity, and integrity entails the keeping together of the parts of any whole, and if these parts are scattered throughout time, then the maintenance of integrity entails a knowledge, a memory, of ancient things…”

The “ancient thing” itself is not the valued item, it is the story that it tells. The pottery might have been garbage 3000 years ago, but now acts like a record of the humans who shaped the world we live in now. It says “I was here. I made this. I used this.” Artifacts are valuable because they tell us about the past and how we got to where we are now. For example, piecing together many artifacts can reveal the culture of the people who made them, their technology, and how both have changed throughout history.

“To think, feel or act as though the past is done with, is equivalent to believing that a railway station through which our train has just passed, only existed for as long as our train was in it”

The past shapes the present in so many visible and invisible ways. From the food we eat, to the languages we speak, to our current socio-political climate, everything can be traced backwards. Denying the influence of the past can keep us from moving forward. It can keep us repeating the same mistakes over and over again. And it denies the very real impact that historical events have on people today.

I think this is an especially important conversation to have in terms of reparations. Reparations are defined by the Cambridge English Dictionary as “payment for harm or damage.” In an American and Canadian context, they are mostly used to describe payments by the government to groups that have been wronged by their actions. (By "wronged" I mean: genocide, false imprisonment, enslavement, torture, racist policies, stolen land, and other horrific human rights violations that have occured throughout history.) In particular, there is a call to make reparations to Black Americans who are descendants of enslaved people and those who lived through the Jim Crow era. According to the NAACP: “Worse inequality has only grown since the Great Depression wiped out any gains black people made in the post-civil rights era. Today, without intervention, it would take an African-American household 228 years to build the same amount of wealth as our white counterparts.” The past has an impact on the landscape of today. Reparations do not fix damage caused. But they are steps in the right direction.

However, there are those who argue that past events do not warrant present compensation. The Tulsa Massacre was a horrific 1921 attack by a White mob that killed over 300 people in the mostly Black neighbourhood of Greenwood in Tulsa, Oklahoma (Cabral, 2024; Walker, 2024). The mob not only murdered hundreds with a clear genocidal intent, but also destroyed the once thriving economy of the neighbourhood (Cabral, 2024; Walker, 2024). No one was ever charged, and no survivors have ever received repartitions for the damage caused (Walker, 2024).  

A recent case brought forward by the last living survivors of the Tulsa Massacre was dismissed by a judge who said that “simply being connected to a historical event does not provide a person with unlimited rights to seek compensation” (Cabral, 2024). But the survivors of the massacre were not just “connected” to the historical event. It continues to directly impact them and their decedents’ lives. Denying the impact of these events is, like the quote said, equivalent to pretending that a train station only exists when we pass through it.

In terms of interpretation, this means being aware of the gravity that historical events convey, and the real-world impact they may have on visitors. It means treating history as something ongoing.

[ivenvs3000f24]

5: Storytelling and science communication

For this blog post, I thought that I would talk a little bit about my experiences interpreting nature through science in relation to this week’s reading, and how my perspective has changed on this topic.

Last semester, I took ENVS*3240 (Creative Writing for Environmental Sciences) which is a course I highly recommend for anyone interested in gaining more writing skills and looking at environmental science through an interesting perspective. As my final independent project, I wrote a collection of short stories based on conversations and research about tree roots.

The first story I wrote for the project was entirely research based. I wanted to write a seed-to-rot account of a tree’s life in as much scientific detail as I could. The result was a three-page story (plus a page of just references) about Syrian Juniper (Juniperus drupacea) that sounded like this excerpt:

While I like the flow of my writing in this piece, the story was bogged down with a lot of vocabulary and minute details that would likely be confusing to anyone who hadn’t taken a biology class somewhat recently. The language used might make it boring even—who wants to wade through all that vocab?

Other stories I wrote were based on interviewees’ personal experiences and utilized much more accessible language to communicate their message. For example, look at this excerpt from a story about someone’s experiences playing on a fallen tree as a child:

Without using much complex vocabulary, I managed to communicate the ecological importance of rotting wood much more clearly than I had in my research-based juniper story.

When I submitted my project, I knew that my strongest stories in the collection were those that avoided relying on too many scientific terms, but I couldn’t exactly articulate why they felt more impactful.

Watching Washington Wachira’s talk about birds in relations to Amanda’s remarks (“While [using scientific names and offering taxonomic history] might be useful in some scenarios, is that what our audience wants/needs? Or is it perhaps better to offer some other way to engage.”) has helped me to understand why this is the case.

Wachira describes many scientific concepts during his talk: ecological diversity, specialization, zoological classification, the connection between habitat and physiology, reproduction, scavenger behaviours, benefits of predation, pollination and more. He also describes human connections to birds (his own personal love for them, history, anthropology, economic benefits from avian tourism) and ultimately connects to environmental education when he talks about threats to conservation, citizen science and conservation efforts in Africa.

The first part of Wachira’s talk couldhave been alienating to those watching who are less familiar with biology if he hadn’t presented it in an engaging and accessible manner. Instead, Wachira’s creates a welcoming, story-driven environment for the audience to appreciate the diversity of birds. I think his approach, which avoids using too much scientific vocabulary, helps him engage his audience on a much deeper level.

Accessible language invites people in. It allows more people to be part of the conversation. And ultimately, I think audiences learn the most when they feel welcomed.

[akhenvs3000f24]

Unit 05 Blog Post

With an open blog prompt this week encouraging us to discuss what we are thinking about, I can't deny that most of my thoughts are about the fall season, thanksgiving, and Halloween! With that in mind, I would like to discuss the intersection of nature and the supernatural, which feels especially relevant as Halloween (one of my favourite holidays!) approaches :)

I'd like to start off by mentioning how darkness changes our perception of nature. A familiar place you've known your whole life -- like your backyard or a forest trail, can feel unknown or mysterious at night. This concept reminds me a lot of playing tag in the dark with my sister and cousins as a little kid, during which the darkness would play tricks on our senses. At night the woods felt more alive, with every rustling leaf and snap of a twig sending chills down our spines. The power of the unknown in nature can make even the most innocent games feel eerie and exhilarating.

Furthermore, the campfire, a quintessential outdoor experience, frequently becomes a gateway to the world of spooky tales. Why is it that humans gravitate towards telling scary stories outside in nature, when accompanied by friends and only the light of a fire? The atmosphere seems to encourage a feeling of spookiness. The flickering firelight casts shadows on trees, creating ghostly figures, while the crackling wood echoes with the sounds of the forest. This atmosphere makes the perfect setting for storytelling, where nature itself seems to participate in the tales, adding to the eerie ambiance. I find that our tendency as humans to lean into the mystery and unfamiliarity we experience by the campfire endearing and is likely a common experience most people can relate to.

On the topic of storytelling, there are many intriguing natural history myths or urban legends that tie in with fall themes, like the legend of Sleepy Hollow’s Headless Horseman or the lore surrounding the Jersey Devil. These stories often have roots in real landscapes and cultural histories, adding layers of meaning to the natural environment. Furthermore, many Indigenous cultures have rich mythologies involving nature spirits or creatures tied to specific natural landmarks (like forests, rivers, or mountains). It is no coincidence that modern horror media takes inspiration from these stories, like Until Dawn using the Wendigo myth.

These stories and adaptations often tie supernatural elements to natural forces. These tales tap into deep fears about nature's untamable power and our smallness or powerlessness in comparison. I believe the human fascination with the supernatural originates from a fear of the unknown in nature—storms, plagues, wild animals, and much more. Early cultures explained these phenomena in myths and legends, which still resonate with us in modern horror because they tap into primal fears about survival and the natural world.

Next, specifically when thinking about Halloween and horror, I find it interesting (but not surprising!) that most horror movies are set in outdoor environments such as woods, fields, or isolated cabins. The game I mentioned above, Until Dawn, is no exception, as it focuses on a group of adults trying to survive on Blackwood Mountain. One of the most classic horror movies, Friday the 13th, takes place at Camp Crystal Lake (or "Camp Blood"). Some other examples of horror films like The Blair Witch Project or The Ritual use the forest as a character itself, full of unknown threats and primal fears. Nature can be beautiful, but when it turns against us or becomes uncontrollable, it becomes terrifying.

I know a lot of people aren't into horror movies, but they're certainly not the only genre of fall media that incorporates nature as a major aspect of the storytelling. If you haven't seen the Cartoon Network mini-series Over the Garden Wall, it is a fall classic that I honestly can't recommend enough. Over the Garden Wall perfectly blends the calm essence of autumn with the spooky, magical, and supernatural elements of Halloween. This show emphasizes fall being a transitional season, where life starts to decay, and the boundaries between reality and the unknown become thinner. The two protagonists, Wirt and Greg, travel through the woods which act as an ever-present character that uses the changing seasons to symbolize the journey between life and death. It is a show that successfully combines the feelings of whimsy and eerie, reflecting the dual nature of fall. I think it is a great example of a show that uses natural elements to enhance storytelling, and the fleshed out natural aspects truly provide a sense of place as you watch Greg and Wirt travel through "The Unknown".

To conclude, I hope my post for this week has provided some insight into the themes of nature, the supernatural, and human storytelling all within the context and atmosphere of fall and Halloween.

[ivenvs3000f24]

Hi Alyssa,

This was absoluetly fascinating to read-- I love how you described the crossover between nature and culture that really comes alive this time of year.

It got me thinking about the fall harvest, and particularly about the symbolism surrounding jack-o-lanterns. Jack-o-lanterns originated in Ireland, with the legend of Stingy Jack who bothered the devil so much that he wasn't allowed into hell (and was such a jerk that heaven didn't want him either), so when he died he was forced to wander the countryside forevermore. People would carve turnips or beets to place in their windows to scare him off, and brought that tradition with them to the Americas.

I think that the tradition of carving jack-o-lanterns and the originating legend relates to what you said about how "These tales tap into deep fears about nature's untamable power and our smallness or powerlessness in comparison." Stingy Jack is a character who exists soley in the countryside and soley in the darkness-- a kind of manifestation of our deepest fears about what might lie in the shadows. The home, on the other hand, is viewed as a place of safety that must be protected.

Jack-o-lanterns acted as a kind of barrier, a supernatural "go away" sign to the unknowns that lurk outside. A humble root vegtable might not be able to do much, but it can act as a warm comfort on a frightening night. And maybe it'll encourage you to get outside and visit the pumpkin patch.

Thanks again for the great post-- it really did give me some new insight and inspiration.

-Illyria

Sources: https://www.history.com/news/history-of-the-jack-o-lantern-irish-origins

[nsenvs3000f24]

Blog 4: Nature Interpretation through Art

Interpreting nature through art has always been a deeply personal experience for me. I’ve loved drawing scenic landscapes for as long as I can remember and creating art around nature. While my hand can never fully replicate the magic of the scene, the process itself feels like a way of engaging with the natural world in a meaningful way.

But when I think about who I am to interpret nature through art, it’s easy to feel uncertain. Art often seems like it belongs to professionals, to those who have formal training or are recognized for their talents. However, what I’ve come to realize is that interpreting nature through art isn’t about technical skill. Instead, it’s about observing, feeling, and translating those experiences into something others can relate to. Art provides a way to share my perspective, to help others see what I see, and to convey the beauty of nature as I experience it.

In Chapter 5 of our textbook, we explore the concept of “the gift of beauty.” To me, this idea speaks directly to what art does. It allows us to capture something fleeting, like a sunset or a misty morning, and make it last a little longer. This process is not just about remembering these moments for ourselves but sharing them with others. I often find myself taking photos of landscapes or sketching quick drawings because I want to extend the experience and, hopefully, offer others a glimpse into that beauty.

This idea of capturing and sharing beauty through art is reflected in the work of artists like the Group of Seven, who are discussed in our course. Their paintings of Canadian landscapes weren’t just depictions of physical places, they were emotional and symbolic interpretations of nature that shaped Canada’s national identity. While my art may not have the same historical significance, the act of interpreting nature still holds immense value. It allows me to express my personal connection to the environment, and in doing so, invite others into that experience.

Art also offers a way to convey deeper meanings behind natural elements. For example, a tree isn’t just a tree in art; it might symbolize life, resilience, or the passage of time. A mountain could represent strength, endurance, or the challenges we face. Through art, we can layer these symbols and emotions onto nature, allowing us to communicate our thoughts and feelings in a way that goes beyond words. This makes art a powerful tool in nature interpretation because it taps into both intellectual and emotional understanding. Art is not just about creating beautiful things but about fostering connections. It can evoke emotions and offer new perspectives, helping people to see the natural world in a new light, which is what nature interpretation is about, helping others to connect with and appreciate the environment around them.

By using art, I can share the gift of beauty in nature, helping others to see the significance in a landscape or a single tree. It’s not about being an expert or a professional artist; it’s about seeing the world and sharing that vision with others.

[ivenvs3000f24]

Hi Naya!

I really enjoyed reading your blog post this week. I'm not very well versed in the visual arts, so it was incredibly interesting to hear about the connections between art and nature from your perspective.

I was particularly intrigued by your thoughts on art as a way to share experience. I honestly haven't considered how the desire to share is a primary motive for many of the arts we create, but on further reflection it seems so obvious. Some write songs to share feelings and interesting bits of wordplay, others write books to share the imaginary worlds and people inside their head. I took a picture of this slug because I thought it would be fun to show others.

The act of taking this photo has captured a fleeting moment of nature-related joy that I can now share. How many of us have camera roles dotted with random images such as this one?

There is also a lot of value to be found in the act of making art. When creating art, you need to take the time to notice the little things that surround you. This is turn helps create a greater sense of connection to the natural world.

One way I like to amplify this act of noticing is by making art with items found in nature. For example, using sticks build a tiny house or drawing with river clay. By sourcing materials from nature, I find myself paying greater attention to my surroundings. I think that small, fairly accessible, and low-pressure acts of artmaking are a great way to destress and connect with your surroundings.

Thanks so much for the very thoughtful blog post, and I hope the rest of the course goes well for you!

[ivenvs3000f24]

4: Art and Interpretation

My stick figures are abysmal, and birds (metaphorically) die when I sing. I am not the right person to capture lush ecosystems with paint or compose a song about school children who died in cold water. But I am a storyteller and creative writer, and I can interpret nature through that art form.

Environmental advocacy zine making workshop I hosted at my summer job

I am particularly inspired by our textbook’s suggestion that nature interpreters engage their audiences through drama performances. As a community theatre volunteer and improv performer, the idea of adding an additional dimension of interpretation to this excites me. My Bachelor of Arts and Science minors are in ecology and creative writing, and bringing those subjects together through nature interpretation is a logical progression.

The first person that comes to mind when I think of writing and nature interpretation is Rachel Carson. While she is best known for her book Silent Spring, I think it would best be described as science communication. However, her essay Helping Your Child to Wonder provides an excellent description of the ways nature interpretation can benefit both the interpreter and their audience (in this case, her 4-year-old nephew). Particularly, she discusses how beauty can lead to curiosity.

She writes

“Once the emotions have been aroused— a sense of the beautiful, the excitement of the new and the unknown, a feeling of sympathy, pity, admiration or love— then we wish for knowledge about the object of our emotional repose. Once found, it has lasting meaning”

I think reading this piece inspired and influenced how I interpret the “gift of beauty.” Beauty has an emotional impact on us, one that can sustain itself for far longer than memorizing a few facts. Beauty makes us care.

There are so many ways to find beauty in nature. Things that might seem ugly or odd at first can reveal themselves to have startling quirks and charms if you take the time to know them. Take, for example, Ceratophaga vicinella, which is a rare species of moth endemic to Florida.

Source: Deyrup et al., 2005

They feed on dead gopher tortoise shells as larvae and are in decline alongside those tortoises. They are overlooked by most people but have immense beauty to those who take the time to study them.

“Surely an oddity such as C. vicinella cannot simply be allowed to vanish. We should speak up on behalf of this little moth, not only because by so doing we would bolster conservation efforts now underway in Florida, but because we would be calling attention to the existence of a species that is so infinitely worth knowing” write the authors of a paper published on the moths in 2005.

The gift of beauty allows us to appreciate the aspects of nature that are so “infinitely worth knowing.” It gives us incentive to learn about, care for, and appreciate the more-than-human world around us.

Sources:

https://rachelcarsoncouncil.org/wp-content/uploads/2019/08/whc_rc_sow_web.pdf

Deyrup, M., Deyrup, N. D., Eisner, M., & Eisner, T. (2005). A caterpillar that eats tortoise shells. American Entomologist, 51(4), 245–248. https://doi.org/10.1093/ae/51.4.245

[ivenvs3000f24]

Some more thoughts on unit 3...

When I was 17, I went on a canoe trip. Nothing too remarkable, except for the fact that I was five years into cancer remission, and the other kids I went on the trip with were also either in active treatment or remission. I was on a whole lot of medication at the time. The trip was completely cost free-- plus we were accompanied by a nurse, had two volunteers leading the trip, and learned how to run rapids. It was absolutely epic.

I kept a pretty detailed journal for that trip, and at one point wrote about a conversation that another participant Dale (named changed) and I had. We’d both been on multiple cancer-organization funded canoe and camping trips before, and additionally he’d done some free outdoor expeditions with an organization that ran them for low-income kids. We agreed that we enjoyed these trips a lot and had over the course of our teens become outdoorsy people. But what we really wanted to know was: “why does everyone think the outdoors will solve our problems?”

And I realize now that was the wrong question. A few camping trips weren’t going to take away our medical issues or decrease income inequality. But they did give us access to experiences that would usually be beyond our grasp and gave us a new environment to fuel personal growth. I gained more confidence in my physical abilities and formed friendships around the campfire. I ate wild blueberries and appreciated the beauty of bird calls.

In terms of privilege in nature interpretation, there is something to be said for the real impact that experiences such as these have on people. I wouldn’t have been able to complete a trip like that on my own, and don’t think I would be studying environmental science right now without my experiences. Everyone deserves access to nature, not just those who are able-bodied or can afford it.

That being said, Amanda's reflections on her "youth at-risk” trip in Northern Ontario demonstrates that these kind of trips will not benefit everyone. When embarking on a trip such as this, it's important to recognize that intense outdoor experiences carry a lot of risks and that those risks can outweigh the benefits.

[sgsenvs3000f24]

Week 3 Blog

What role does “privilege” play in nature interpretation? Please include your working definition of privilege. 

In my experience, I have found privilege to be mainly attributed to one’s conditions during their upbringing, or in other words, how they experienced their childhood. I have been privileged enough to grow up in a stable household with a large extended family. I had access to a large yard with exposure to nature, parents who would bring me to conservations areas and parks because they knew from their parents that nature was beneficial to one’s growth and development. I was privileged enough to have access to my parent’s cottage, with 10 acres of forest for me to explore my curiosity and foster my passion for the natural world. 

As I got older and started to understand the power of privilege, I felt a need to share these experiences, whether it be by bringing my friends to my family’s cottage and taking them on guided walks through our forested property, or simply pointing out interesting sightings to friends and family who have not had an opportunity to explore that curiosity yet – an Eastern Phoebe nesting on the side of the cottage, a Grey Treefrog tucked into the bark of a tree, Spotted Jewelweed growing in a ditch beside the driveway. Being able to share the things I am curious about is one of my favourite things - it can have a chain reaction of positive events and is so simple to achieve. This mindset of prompting curiosity and growth in ourselves and in our peers I believe is extremely important in order to become not just a good nature interpreter, but the best version of ourselves. 

Without having the privilege I was very fortunate to be born into, I am very confident that I would not be fascinated with the natural world in the same way that I am today. Giving children an opportunity to interact with nature and foster their curiosity is one of the ultimate privileges. I am very grateful to have a very large variety of connections and meaningful mentors that have been created, ultimately, by my upbringing. My parents helped me to learn how to make valuable connections which has aided tremendously in my career and personal life. I am also fortunate that I have had a lot of female mentors in this field, as this definitely wasn’t the case even twenty years ago. This shift in gender composition in the field of wildlife and conservation is fairly recent and ongoing, but because it is happening actively, I feel more comfortable in that space and role. In that sense, we are privileged on a temporal scale, in that we are living in a time when there is more gender and racial equality than in the past. I am forever thankful for the privilege I have been exposed to because it has allowed me to find my “calling” relatively easily, and it awarded me the tools I needed in order to share this with others and succeed in this field.

Here, an Eastern Milkshake I showed to some curious kids at my job last summer working at Prince Edward Point Bird Observatory.

[ivenvs3000f24]

Hi!

First off, just wanted to thank you for sharing the picture of the snake-- very cool to see. I like how your perspective on privilege incorporates childhood upbringing, which is when many of our interests and values are formed. Having unstructured play in outdoor spaces is much harder for families that live further away from these spaces or have a difficult time accessing them. Accessing nature with young kids is oftentimes a privilege that not all are able to receive.

I was very lucky that one of my friends had a cottage growing up, and I remember getting so so excited when I was invited to spend a weekend with her family there. I think that programs for young kids that emphasize time in the outdoors and are no/low cost are super important for building confidence and interest in the outdoors. For example, in Hamilton there are EarlyON centres that are entirely outdoors, Udeskole is a Scandinavian outdoor kindergarten that emphasizes cooperative learning, and I worked for an organization last summer that ran an outdoors after-school program.  I hope that more programs like these will be able to be publicly funded and more widely available in the future.

Looking forward to seeing more of your posts!

Cheers,

-Illyria

What is our Udeskole approach? | Kids Planet Nurseries

We have put together our very own outdoor learning accreditation called ‘Udeskole’ that many of our nurseries are training towards.

[ivenvs3000f24]

3: The role of privilege in nature interpretation

My working definition of privilege is “advantages held by a person and/or group that are unearned.” I like this definition because it’s simple but encompasses a wide spectrum of experiences, including (but not limited to) race, income, language, (dis)ability, and sexuality.

Based on our textbook readings and personal experiences, I would break down the role of privilege in nature interpretation into four categories that intersect and interact. These categories are access, resources, time, and narrative.

I think our textbook went over the first three categories much better than I could hope to accomplish in 500 words. Accessing nature is easier when one has access to a car or lives close by; this privileges people who can afford a vehicle or property close to nature. Resources is mostly related to monetary advantages, which intersect with race, gender and sexuality. Time is also closely related, as having the ability “take a day off work” and head out on a hike is much easier when you have the income to do so.

I would like to take some time to focus on the narrative privileges that have historically been given to  white Canadians in green spaces. This includes the whitewashing of history, as well as the narrative framing that has often been used in interpretation.

Like the rest of Canada, our national parks are located on stolen land. Indigenous peoples were forced from their homes in what is now Stanley Park, Algonquin Park, Banff Park and more (Hamilton, 2017) The very existence of these parks is based on privileging the needs of white visitors over Indigenous sovereignty. Furthermore, there is a history of using Indigenous culture as “entertainment” for white visitors in these spaces (Hamilton, 2017).

Past and ongoing instances of discrimination and exclusion from green spaces continues to impact who utilizes these green spaces, and whose stories get told.

For example, you can compare and contrast these two accounts of Algonquin Park’s history. In this first account, from the Friends of Algonquin Park (https://www.algonquinpark.on.ca/visit/history/cultural-history.php) the history of Indigenous peoples in the park is summarised in a very small paragraph that downplays and downright disrespects 8000+ years of history. Whereas this account from canoe company Voyageur Quest (https://voyageurquest.com/park-history/) provides a more Algonquin-focused narrative that emphasizes their long history in the area and the seizure of the land by the Government of Canada.

From this perspective, it’s clear that interpreting nature also means interpreting history, with sensitivity and respect. The role privilege plays in nature interpretation extends to the privileging of certain narratives over others, and all interpretive work should be conducted with this framing in mind.

While engaging with historical narrative respectfully and accurately is important, these words are not substantiated without the work to remove barriers. While Voyageur Quest provides an Indigenous-focused historical narrative, I haven’t been able to find any online evidence of them engaging with the local Algonquin community.

Creating more equitable nature interpretation involves addressing multiple aspects of privilege and discrimination. This includes actively listening to the communities served, inviting underserved groups personally, hiring interpreters of diverse backgrounds, increasing access to transportation, providing interpretation in multiple languages, and always evaluating how the narrative of interpretation is being framed.

Sources

Algonquin Park History. (n.d.). Voyageur Quest. Retrieved September 26, 2024, from https://voyageurquest.com/park-history/

Cultural History | Algonquin Provincial Park | The Friends of Algonquin Park. (n.d.). Retrieved September 26, 2024, from https://www.algonquinpark.on.ca/visit/history/cultural-history.php

Hamilton, G. (2017, August 25). The shady past of Parks Canada: Forced out, Indigenous people are forging a comeback. National Post. https://nationalpost.com/news/canada/the-shady-past-of-parks-canada-forced-out-indigenous-people-are-forging-a-comeback

[hgmenvs3000f24]

I think that your blog presents a great insight on your definition of privilege! It really does make me happy to see a straightforward yet comprehensive approach that recognizes how privilege manifests across different identities and experiences. Your breakdown of privilege and how it connects to broader societal issues was something that I also tried to touch on in my own blog post. For example, by linking access to socioeconomic status and geographical location, you highlight the barriers that prevent many individuals from enjoying natural spaces.

I also took note on your focus towards the historical narrative privileges that have marginalized Indigenous voices in discussions about green spaces. By addressing the contrast between the two accounts of Algonquin Park, you do a great job of illustrating how the dominant narratives can perpetuate inequality and disrespect. This helps emphasize the need for a more inclusive storytelling approach and helps show whose stories are being told and whose are being silenced.

Something that I would like to further discuss could be the idea of collaboration with Indigenous communities, and more specifically, the specifics (lol). While you mention the need for engaging with local voices, what specific steps do you think organizations like Voyageur Quest could take to ensure meaningful partnerships? For instance, could they establish advisory boards comprised of Indigenous leaders to guide their interpretive practices? Additionally, what about providing platforms for Indigenous storytellers to share their narratives directly? Exploring these questions could lead to a transformation of interpretation practices to truly reflect and respect Indigenous histories and perspectives.

You did a great job this week I look forward to reading more from you!

[ivenvs3000f24]

Thanks for the thoughtful response! I agree that advisory boards and providing platform for Indigenous storytellers are good steps towards achieving meaningful partnerships, and would like to add that providing compensation/honorariums for storytellers and advisors is important.

This is a difficult question, as what partnership looks like really depends on the needs and interests of the community. I would like to note that I'm not Indigenous and do not have the knowledge or authority to truly define a meaningful partnership, and may be completely off here in my assessment.

With this in mind, looking online I found an interesting example of a partnership between the Qajakkut Society in Iqaluit and the Canadian Canoe Museum. The two organizations worked together to fund and document the building of several qajaq (kayaks) by Inuit Elders and Knowledge Keepers, with the intention of passing on the knowledge to future generations and sharing the project with the broader public. From my limited perspective, this seems like a good example of partnership. However, others with more knowledge and experience might disagree, or add more nuance, and I would be interested to learn more.

Sources:

https://ipcaknowledgebasket.ca/resources/beyond-conservation-building-relationships-for-collaboration/#buildequity

https://canoemuseum.ca/sharing-inuit-knowledge-and-language-a-partnership-between-the-canadian-canoe-museum-and-iqaluits-qajakkut-society/

https://nunavutheritage.ca/education-lifelong-learning/adult-programs/