Lessons for Harvest Time
Gardening gets kids excited about how things grow. Use time in the garden to apply math concepts, and experience wonder. To wonder so much you want to read, ask questions and read some more.
—Shelly Johnson
Make your next step outdoors, and toward a healthier planet. To learn more about Next Step’s relationship with the earth, scroll down and read more. Then give us a shout and we’ll visit.
Gardening gets kids excited about how things grow. Use time in the garden to apply math concepts, and experience wonder. To wonder so much you want to read, ask questions and read some more.
For many of us, buying new pencils, pumpkin spiced everything, football, and warm socks mark the beginning of fall! But for teachers autumn ushers in a wellspring of environmental education themes. Three topics are especially interesting this time of year–resilience, migration, and animals we love to hate.
Perhaps our strongest instinct is for self preservation. Even in the most difficult conditions, living creatures strive to survive. Fall is a time many animals gather resources and prepare for the long winter ahead. Even though they run around like crazy, squirrels show a lot of discipline as they collect their food for winter to improve their chances of survival.
Watching the preparations squirrels and other mammals are making leads to a unit on human survival. While humans don’t gather nuts and berries to survive the winter, we do have basic needs to take care of–warm clothes, winterizing our homes, preserving food from the garden. Help your students compare how people and animals adapt to the environment.
Migration is a lighter topic for fall. Nothing like a road trip!
As I enjoyed my morning run I noticed a Monarch butterfly fluttering along next to me. Besides their magnificent colors, Monarchs are capable of a journey that would be nearly impossible for a human without a car or airplane, flying from the northern United States and Canada to California and Mexico.
Take your class outside to appreciate the fact that the Monarch is about to embark on a perilous journey. Spark a conversation about cycles and patterns. Have students write a letter to a butterfly explaining what it can expect on its journey and wishing it well; older students can research areas the Monarchs will travel through.
Have students create a map showing the Monarchs’ route. Students can demonstrate their understanding of migratory patterns , as well as the lifecycle of the Monarch. Extend the lesson by adding migrations for different birds that fly through your area.
Especially at Halloween, there are certain animals we love to hate. We decorate our yards and homes with animals that typically scare us–spiders, bats and snakes, oh my! It’s the perfect time to get kids to talk about their fears, and the un-scary, even helpful things these animals do.
Initiate critical thinking through the book Vulture Verses: Love Poems for the Unloved by Diane Lang; it focuses on the creepy crawly animals. Lang opens conversation about the crucial role every animal plays in the environment. We don’t have to love these animals but we can respect what they do for us!
Happy Autumn!
My children love forts. But a sunflower fort? It exceeded every expectation.
Inspired by Eve Bunting’s Sunflower House, we planted sunflower seeds in a circle last spring. My nine-year-old couldn’t decide on just one variety of sunflowers at the garden store, so we planted two circles of seeds – an inner ring of mammoths and an outer ring of a smaller variety. He left a small gap for the door.
My only experience with sunflowers was when I was as a summer camp counselor in North Dakota during college. One morning we came upon a field of sunflowers. This was no tiny circle, but an expanse of sunflowers, much like cornfields in Iowa. I insisted they stop the car immediately. I marveled at these vibrant sunflowers, all facing the morning sun!
Planting the seeds with my kids, I tried to set realistic expectations. This is our first year! We’re just trying it out! It can be a science experiment – even if nothing grows we’ll learn from experience.
That conversation was unnecessary.
My three-year-old daughter diligently watered the sunflowers, and before long they sprouted. At first we thought they were growing at an angle. With closer investigation, it became clear even their leaves were tilting to face the sun.
And were they ever growing! My son started taking measurements each Wednesday. When they surpassed the reach of his arms, I helped out. Eventually, we needed a step stool and an extended measuring tape. Our plants grew on average an inch a day. In no time, the kids piled into their fort, surrounded by towering plants, hidden from view.
Watching the flowers open, and bloom a little brighter each day was pretty special. We all cheered the day the first bloom opened.
Soon the wildlife arrived. Bees and hummingbirds inspired conversations about pollination and pollinator habitat. Until the sunflower fort, I had never seen goldfinches in our suburban yard. But the sunflower fort attracted them daily. Watching them perch upside down eating seeds became a favorite pastime for my daughter and me. My son pointed out that we watched through the window like we were watching TV. I agreed.
The talk of the neighborhood, the ultimate hide-and-seek location, our very own wildlife viewing station, the perfect summer view: this is our sunflower fort! What can we expect as we head into fall and winter?I’m not sure. I think we’ll just wait and watch closely, soaking in whatever happens. After all, it’s better than TV!
Last week I packed my bags and headed on a vacation with my parents and siblings. Our destination was Lake Florida in Minnesota.
While we were there we volunteered at Prairie Woods Environmental Learning Center! One of my projects was clearing trails around the prairie. Early in the morning, a little grumpy and weary from such an early start, I set off to complete my task.
But it did not take long for the beauty and simplicity of the prairie to engulf me and completely change my mood.
As I walked the trails the different prairie grasses and flowers began to capture my attention. The grasses were purple, orange, brown, and green. The flowers yellow, pink, blue, and white. The colors were iridescent as they danced in the wind and sun. I strolled along marshland rich with forest green vegetation and songs of birds.
The views took my breath away. The beauty of the prairie made me curious. I was alone but I had questions I wanted and I wanted answers. As I strolled I read the plaques provided and pondered my background knowledge of prairies.
I got lost in my thoughts and almost forgot to clean the trails! This curiosity attack made me think of how much I need time to be in the outdoors alone. It stimulates my curiosity. Curiosity is essential when you take students outside.
Kids have an innate ability to detect when someone is not being genuine. As the instructor I need to shine with wonder and eagerness so they can see that I am genuinely happy to be outside with them!
I write this story to say “take some time to be alone outside!” Find trails to saunter down or a place to volunteer. Get in touch with your wonder and curiosity. Then take them to your classroom, friends, and children!
If you are ever in Northern Minnesota I recommend you stop by the learning center!
Monday, August 21, 2017 will be a memorable day. Not since 1918 has a solar eclipse crossed the United States from the Pacific to Atlantic Oceans, giving us a rare opportunity to observe one of nature’s biggest coincidences.
A few tips as the big day nears…
think about why it is okay to not know the answer to every question posed by the students. After you have thought for a moment read on.
Have you ever seen a hydrophone? Neither had I until I visited the Scripps Research Institute to learn about ocean studies. That’s the thing I’m holding in the picture at the top of this post. The researcher who gave us our tour studies whale audiology. If you’re looking for something to do, he needs help analyzing data from hours and hours of audio. Or something like that.
We toured Scripps the first morning we were in San Diego for the NAAEE (North American Association for Environmental Education) annual conference in San Diego in October 2015. Frankly, I was impressed! I didn’t think I’d ever heard of the organization and the conference looked really good.
I realized that I’ve used their materials for a long time. Most recently, NAAEE’s Excellence in Environmental Education provided guideposts for developing Teachers-Going-Green.com.
The focus of the conference was on diversity and inclusion in environmental education–subjects near and dear to my heart. So much to learn and think about. The workshop sessions were well attended, planful and informative. The NAAEE leadership is enthusiastic and positive. The last keynote, a panel of young leaders under 21 years old; their take on environmental stewardship was inspiring.
Shelly Johnson, Education Coordinator at Next Step Adventure, and I attended a variety of sessions. We were particularly interested in a monitoring project called CIMBY (Calumet Is My Back Yard) that the Field Museum in Chicago is doing with high schools in the Calumet region of south Chicago. Ideas percolated from the sessions and from visits with other educators from California, New Mexico and Michigan, to name a few.
Along with the beautiful campus at Scripps we visited the Birch Aquarium; I’ve always been a sucker for tide pools. We kayaked a fairly choppy Pacific Ocean off the La Jolla beach and caves. We got to visit the world class San Diego Zoo, and on our first afternoon we soaked in the California vibe in Balboa Park.
We came home looking forward to the 2016 conference. And guess what? It’s in Madison, Wisconsin, relatively close-to-home!! It would be a great thing to send a strong and long Iowa delegation there next October 18-22nd. What do you think? Sound like a good idea? Let’s get going!
I walked into the kitchen and had to squint. The morning sun was shining brightly through the door. It’s been a challenging winter; judging by the number of people walking and running outside yesterday, we’re ready for it to end. The cardinals, goldfinch and house finches are emptying my bird feeders again.
I’m itching to get back into my garden—fantasizing about trimming my redbud tree, opening my pond and hanging a set of Japanese lanterns above the Old Pond Garden. It’s time to bring the compost bucket back into the kitchen and thaw the lid on the composting bin. These are all ways I connect with my mother, the earth.
John Muir, naturalist said, “When we try to pick out anything by itself, we find it hitched to everything else in the universe.” Earth is where we come from. One of the strongest connections we have, but we rarely think of it.
I’m taking my classes outside to collect materials for spring art projects. Their resistance reinforced my concern that many kids don’t have the love of the soil and all that grows from it. Richard Louv’s article is hopeful abut helping kids connect to the earth, and how it will help us create the solutions to our Mother Earth’s challenges.
In a speech at Drake University last fall, President Olafur Grimsson of Iceland highlighted the connections between ice, energy, and food. “As the Greenland glaciers and the Arctic sea ice continue to melt faster than ever and NASA issues extreme warnings, some of us ask, a bit bewildered: Why does the political and corporate leadership of most countries honour and respect the Space Agency because it landed a man on the Moon, and recently a robot on Mars, but ignore it altogether when it gives us alarming news about Mother Earth?”
Viewing the Earth as mother gives us a paradigm for our origination from Earth, living as part of Earth, our expected return to Earth, recycled just as all biomass is recycled. When we know at a deep level that we are the Earth, we listen to the warnings and look for the creative solutions.
There are several answers, none really easy. The big answer is, “Use less energy.” Considerably less. Until we have clean energy sources that don’t add to climate change, decreasing the use of fossil fuels really makes a difference.
For me, this involves combining trips in my car, walking or riding my bike when I can. What does it look like for you? Please join the conversation.
Find your true nature. Then resist it. We’ve been exploring this concept in yoga lately, and often the question is why? Another is how? Here’s a story that answers both questions.
Back in 2004 (thanks Beth!) we built the Adventure Learning Center. We scheduled training with Junior from Wisconsin. I loved Junior. I probably owe him my life. I certainly owe him insight into my true nature.
I spent the first two days of training on the ground. This was possible since we started on the low course where elements are only twelve to eighteen inches high. To be honest, I was actually a little scared of those!
When we did play around on the highs, I carried ladders with my friend Jeff who was also determined to remain grounded. We learned to belay really well. Then at the end of Day Two Junior told us the last three days of training would be exclusively on the high course, 40-60 feet above the ground.
I lay awake Tuesday night, filled with fear. Some people dream of flying. I dream of falling. One thing you do with fear is look for ways to avoid doing the thing you’re afraid of.
I decided I’d “experience” the high elements, but not set them up. I could stay on belay and I wouldn’t have to set up the belay system that could mean life or death to a climber. Seemed reasonable to me.
Until that morning when we got to the ALC. Junior put us into four groups of three and told us our first task was to climb a pole, set up and take down its element. I could no longer see a reasonable way to avoid climbing and setting up.
I don’t ask others to do things I’m unwilling to do myself. So, climb I would. The tower held a cargo net and a giant ladder as well as the climbing wall. Setting up meant fastening the belay system to a cable running above my reach around the perimeter of the tower.
We set a ladder against the northeastern telephone pole and lashed it to the pole with bungee cords. I don’t know who went first, but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t me. I believed my true nature was to stay on the ground. I had a visceral, palpable fear of heights. When we took our kids to the Rockies, I spent a good deal of time pulling the boys back from the edges of cliffs.
Making it to the top of the ladder wasn’t so bad, but then finding the giant staples sticking out of the pole, getting a purchase on them and figuring out where my left foot should go was another huge challenge. Especially since I was shaking.
Not only was the footwork challenging, but I was using lobster claws for the first time (I was also on belay thank god). By the time I got to the top and locked the carabiners on the cable I was shaking AND crying.
I had bruised and cut my legs and arms reaching for staples and navigating the railing, but there I was at the top with task accomplished. Cheers came up not only from Eric and Corinne but from the whole group. I had done what I never expected to do. I had resisted my nature.
Over the next two years I gained confidence in my ability to set up the belay system correctly, keep at least one lobster claw clipped to my harness and one to the pole. I learned to love being perched at the top of a gently swaying telephone pole, just a little closer to flying in the clouds.
It’s not hard to be in the moment when you’re at the beach. This morning we saw a dolphin, a wild one, close enough to be amazed at its size. They are REALLY big! Much bigger than they look on TV. It moved away from us but we continued to see its fin as it swam through the Gulf waters.
It’s easy to be cynical about the damage we’re doing to the earth these days. We seem to forget what a tiny part of the system human kind represents. But it only takes a dandelion poking through a crack in the sidewalk to remind me how resilient nature is.
“Another world is not only possible, she’s on the way and, on a quiet day, if you listen very carefully you can hear her breathe, ” I find this quote from Arundhati Roy really encouraging. When I look at the world this way it’s easier to continue efforts at recycling, limiting travel and other small steps that lower my carbon footprint. Believe me, it’s still bigger than I’d like but it’s all about small steps.
I look to serve the cause of the earth, its flora and fauna. My mind goes right to my garden as I write this, to the creatures who drink from my stream and bird baths, the birds who eat at the feeder and the deer who occasionally nip the rosebuds from my bushes. The word serve is operative here.
Service comes from the spirit rather than the ego. When we serve, it is from a level playing field. We engage friends and neighbors as equals, listen to their ideas and needs and find creative ways to join those needs and ideas with our own.
The earth and Iowa in particular are rich with potential solutions to the crises we face today—clean water and local food in particular. However, the best way to address them is to start in our own homes and communities.
Often we forget the resiliency of the natural world, and take on too much responsibility for her survival. This perspective can lead to cynicism and hopelessness. To turn the trashing of the earth around, we must remain hopeful and courageous.