#invisible backpack

[hivany3000-2019-blog]

I Am Privileged.

          When you look up the word privilege on google, the definition given surrounds being provided something that has no origin to the work that you as an individual puts in. Or, in simpler terms it surrounds having special rights. When I think of privilege in the working definition for nature interpretation, it revolves around the idea that nature is a big picture lesson meant for a wide array of people. This means that it is less specific to one person and involves a more generalized anthropogenic focused view. However, the definition is still intertwined with the idea that to be classified as privileged, you have a set of special rights or advantages. 

          Before providing my opinion on the role that privilege plays in nature interpretation, I think it is important to refresh our memories on the idea of the “invisible backpack” (Gallavan, 2005). This concept is the idea that everyone by just being born holds variety of advantages or disadvantages within their backpack to start life with. The tools that are given to you at the beginning of life are not determined by anything that you as an individual has done. However, they can either help or hinder your efforts in whatever circumstances you find yourself in.  

        Photo by colourbox  

          Expressed in our class textbook, “The Gifts of Interpretation”, authors stress the role of nature interpreters in providing lessons that are both interactive and enriching in gifts. Specifically, these gifts are both received and provided by the interpreters. As the ultimate goal of interpreters is to encourage connections and experiences within their audience, it is a challenge to appeal to everyone's interests and backgrounds. It gets especially difficult when everyone is not on an equal playing field. The tools in individual backpacks can range from monetary influences to social structural supports found in one's life.  

          To give an example of how privilege has played a role in nature interpretation, I will use my own upbringing. Like I mentioned in my previous post, I am the daughter to two outdoor enthusiasts who grew up in central Newfoundland. If we look at just a few tools in my backpack I will highlight how my origin, social support network, and the country I live in influences my experiences within nature along with my ability to provide gifts as a working interpreter.  

          I was born in Ontario, Canada but, more specifically have family ties to the central part of Newfoundland. That being said, my parents grew up being always outdoors and becoming accustomed to the necessary equipment that is needed to battle the elements. This means, when I started to show interest in participating in outdoor activities like snowshoeing and outback trips, I already had a lot of the gear I needed. If I needed something specific to one of the outdoor activities that I was participating in, my parents either already owned it or had a way of getting around splurging on that expensive item. I was privileged in that I could always participate in the outdoor activities that interested me without fear of being not prepared. This is something that not everyone is privileged to. In terms of my social support network, I have parents that have been married for a very long time and are still together. This may not seem like something in my toolbox that would be that crucial to my connection outdoors, however, it allows me to live without fear of many basic needs. Which ultimately allows me to focus on my connection with nature. Things like, food security and a strong support system is not a privilege that everyone has. Lastly, the country that I live in and was born in provides me with access to free health care and mental health support. This tool is essential for me to enjoy the outdoors and continue to explore nature without fear of injuring myself and obtaining debt. This may sound strange, but there is a sense of serenity that I get knowing that in Canada if an accident was to happen, I have access to one of the best medical care systems.  

          Coming back to the role that privilege plays in nature interpretation, in the eyes of our class textbook this is closely linked with helping others to enjoy the outdoors. This description along with my own personal experiences is representative of how the tools we hold in our toolbox or the opportunities that are given to us can vary drastically. As I am privileged to work outdoors as a program guide, I can now better understand how the privileges we each hold can either limit or advance our individual abilities and connections to nature.  

          Thus, this is the long way about to describe how I believe the role of privilege in nature interpretation can and will influence individual abilities to experience relationships to the natural world. Fair or not, the individual privilege we have greatly influences our pathway within nature interpretation. 

If anyone else has experienced being an interpretive program guide for a company, I am curious whether you have experienced presenting the same program to two drastically different sets of groups. Was there one group who seemed to have all the tools versus one that was maybe lacking those tools? Did it cause you to adapt your program?

Photo by colourbox

References

Gallavan, N. P. (2005). Helping teachers unpack their “invisible knapsacks”. Multicultural Education, 13(1), 36.  

“The Gifts of Interpretation” by Larry Beck and Ted T. Cable. 3rd Edition, Copyright 2011.

[goodmorningawfulbye]

like, the whole “the protest was anti-feminist and racist” thing

I can acknowledge that yes, it was; it seems there were a lot of things wrong with it. but the statement also makes me incredibly angry.

and I don’t know what to do about that.

and the answer to my question “so what do I do?” can’t be “grow up and get over yourself lol” because it’s just… not that simple, I don’t think. (and giving me that answer is only going to make me more upset, that I can guarantee)

and maybe that’s the point, this is how POC feel being excluded! and, sure, that’s a valid way to think about it, and I will certainly keep it in mind, but like…

to use the Invisible Backpack metaphor, I just kinda feel like people are under the impression that there are some objects in the backpack that are inherently allowed to be more heavy than others, and that lacking one object negates your whole backpack and that’s the part that I don’t think is at all fair.

like, the “fat black bisexual amputee” I saw referenced in another post about privilege and how each word is a step away from “regular”, that person would definitely have a heavier backpack than I do, but not just because they’re black.

In fact, I have two of the same objects that they do, so I’m halfway to their backpack weight. Now, maybe I have other weights they don’t, like mental illness, so my backpack shouldn’t be ~oh, so much lighter~ just because I’m not carrying the POC and disabled objects.

I should help them carry their backpack, since it is heavier than my own. But it’s not like I don’t have a backpack.

I just think all the objects should be considered of the same weight, and then people with fewer objects help carry the more full backpacks, all the time, until the backpacks are equal.

[campgeurtsen-blog]

The Invisible Backpack and Me

The Invisible Backpack and Me

  As a camp counselor we often hear the term “Invisible Backpack.” It is a staple of behavior management, and we assume that when the time comes, we will know how to deal with it. I want to share an experience I recently had in regards to the invisible backpack, and how it changed my counseling style. For privacy’s sake I’m going to change the names and locations of the events, but everything else will be the same.

  It was a typical Friday afternoon and I had a local school group coming in for a very brief earth education class. The plan was to have snack, take a short hike, build survival shelters, and then the buses would pick everyone up. I stood at the edge of the road near our dining hall awaiting the bus and enjoying what was probably my third cup of coffee for the day. The buses arrived a short while after that and unloaded twenty kids and one adult that were going to spend the next three hours with me in the Pine Barrens.

  “Good morning everyone!” I shouted as they exited the bus. I find that if I show enthusiasm from the moment I meet children at our Outdoor Center they tend to carry that enthusiasm with them. Many of the kids were very receptive as I began chatting away with all of them, describing our schedule and telling them all about camp.

  And then Peter spoke up.

  “This sucks. You suck.”

  I had no idea that the next three hours of my life would test every ounce of my patience, tenacity, and behavior management.

  As we worked our way through the dining hall, picking out what snack we wanted, it became clear that Peter wanted the spotlight on him at all times. He would shout. He ran around kicking chairs, pushing napkin dispensers around on the tables. He tried to steal other people’s snacks.

  I knew I had to intervene, and quick. Smiling, I asked Peter if I could talk to him for a little bit while we ate snack. I took that opportunity to set my expectations of him on this school trip, and had him explain why he thought his school was there. And it didn’t even phase him.

  Throughout the entirety of the hike and the shelter building Peter continued to disrupt the entire group. And as I worked through every counseling strategy I knew, I could feel myself losing. Every ounce of me wanted to “pick up the rope” and engage Peter the way he was fishing for. I couldn’t take it.

  I didn’t understand why this kid was uncoachable. I couldn’t understand. I had worked with thousands of children similar to Peter before, but I couldn’t get through to him like I had with all of the other kids.

  Needless to say, by the end of those three hours the only thing I felt was defeat. My mission is to help create better children, and I honestly thought that I had failed Peter. I didn’t understand how one child could be so “bad”. I poured myself another cup of coffee and took a walk to the observatory dock to sort out my mind, and internally debrief what had gone wrong. Yet still, I came up short.

  It wasn’t until a week later that I got my answer. My father and stepmother were visiting me for a couple of days, and one evening we decided to go bowling. After the first game or so, I looked over to my left and saw Peter.

  He was there with his family, bowling as well. He was with his mom, dad, and two brothers. However, he was different. He was calm. He was very quiet. And he had completely changed since the last time I saw him. I then noticed his family. His father was helping one of his brothers bowl, while his mother calmed his other brother down.

  His older brother was on the spectrum and his younger brother had downs. And I felt ashamed. One week earlier I had convinced myself that Peter was the “worst” or “most difficult” camper that I had ever worked with. I had used every ounce of mental stamina to help correct his behavior and nothing had worked. I finally understood why. When he was home, he was his parents rock. He was the support system for his brothers, and he was never in the spotlight. School gave him an outlet to make things about him for once, an opportunity that I knew he enjoyed.

  Finally, his invisible backpack started to seem a little more visible.

  I share this story because it is not often as a secondary educator that we get an opportunity to peer into the lives of our campers. We know they have invisible backpacks, but for the most part we never know what is in them. Since that day in the bowling alley I have made a promise to myself that I intend to keep for the rest of my career. No matter their behavior or how difficult a camper may seem, I will give them my 100%. I will always be mindful that I will never know anyone’s full story, so I will never EVER believe a camper to be bad.

  “Every person you meet is fighting a battle you know nothing about.”

  So now, as we near the start of summer, I ask that everyone keep that quote in mind. It is one thing to know about the invisible backpack. It is a completely different beast to help manage it. I learned the hard way that no matter how many years I counsel or how many children I work with, every child’s story is unique. Every child has different needs and wants, while deserving equal amounts of my compassion and mentoring.

I’ll close with a quote that the great Bob Ditter once told me. “We do not control the campers, we influence them.” Take every opportunity you get with kids to influence them, and never EVER forget about the invisible backpack.