What is a 'Forest Educator?

While most people can probably imagine or infer what someone means when they say the term 'forest educator', the exact definition can be tricky to pin down.

For some people, a 'forest educator' might be someone who specifically works in a certified 'Forest School' using a very specific set of program guidelines and curriculum model, based on the forest schooling movement.

However, this definition is perhaps too limiting and narrow in scope, as it leaves out so many others!

I believe 'Forest Educator' can be applied to a broad spectrum of people who range from nature crafts counselors at a summer camp, to wilderness survival instructors, to scouting troop leaders and even nature homeschool program facilitators. That is a very large family of people who are working with youth or adults and share about nature, skills and creative expression, in a variety of program models and settings.

These professionals share several things in common in their work, that weaves several key elements together that can help us include them in this large and growing family:

One: They work in nature, or include nature and natural materials in their curriculum as a dominant theme.

If a program is set outside, working with gardening, or nature art, it applies. If it is a wilderness canoe trip sharing low impact camping and travel, it applies. If it's focus is on making hand carved wooden spoons, it applies.

It might NOT apply if nature only is included in a tiny percentage of the overall program, so, some programs might stretch our imagination to call them actual forest educators, so it's a little subjective, but probably not that difficult to discern.

Two: They work with students in age-appropriate activities, carry and have adequate first aid equipment, gear and training to insure the program is safe. They also are well staffed for the number of students present and the educational setting for the program or activity has been inspected to insure that it is secure and in good working order.

I believe that being an 'educator' is a term that implies that the individual is a professional, and is therefore taking care to include these important logistical details. This is how educators take responsibility for the program outcomes and help their students by giving them an orientation to any new features or changes.

Story: I remember leading a 'Boy's Rite of Passage' program in a remote section of a county park, in their 'group campsite area' where the park staff let scout groups and other larger parties camp along a popular river. The actual area was difficult to find, with almost no signs, and when we did reach the small parking area, we found aging water supply systems, ancient picnic tables that were starting to come apart, and places where poison ivy was encroaching on the tent locations.

We had wisely gotten to this site and reserved it a day before the program, and we took some time to get oriented and find the campsites that would be the most beneficial for our curriculum and privacy needs. I got started putting up the tents for the students, and getting all of the cooking gear and food for the weekend in place, and my staff helped me with most of the big stuff. When I got done with my chores, I looked around to see what my staff were working on, and it made me so happy to see their progress.

One of them had gone down to use the primitive 'restroom' and found it filled with unclean spider webs, no toilet paper, and trash left blown around by the wind. I inspected it, and saw that they had put fresh paper in large ziplock bags to keep them dry, and everything had been swept and cleaned with some sort of organic surface cleaner and sponges. He had also hung a sign asking people to keep the toilet seat down to keep things smelling better, and he had sprinkled some baking soda in the pit as well.

My other two helpers had finished putting up tarps over the picnic tables in case of rain, to keep our tools and craft materials dry, and it looked fantastic. They had hung up some turkey feathers along the tarp lines to help people avoid them in the night, and they were actively cleaning broken glass and melted metal and other trash out of the fire pit with a shovel. They reset the stones and removed the ashes and charcoal, and created some benches and comfortable places for the students to sit and work on crafts around the fire.

We put up some string with orange flagging on it where we saw poison ivy, to help everyone both learn what it looked like, and also to avoid it throughout our camping trip. On our trip into town later that evening, we bought some poison ivy 'scrub' so anyone who did contact it could wash it thoroughly and minimize it's reaction.

We then explored all of the trails around the campsites, and we had brought hand saws and clippers, so we could trim back some of the branches and logs that had fallen or were in the way. There had been no meaningful trail maintenance in several years, so this was really helpful in making travel to the river and other teaching areas quick and easy.

As we sat around the fire that night, I realized that every one of my helpers was a dedicated, positive 'forest educator', fully committed to creating a powerful program and seeing how all of the details we addressed contributed to that goal. We didn't lose anyone to a poison ivy allergic reaction, and we survived and thrived despite a few sudden thunderstorms, and a few of the students said that they were surprised that the outhouses 'weren't that bad'!

I've been in many other programs as a guest instructor where these values and practices were not taught, and I've heard program leaders laugh at children who were afraid to go to the outhouse, telling them to 'Get Over It!' or 'Man Up'. When those students balked at the facilities, they were labeled 'troublemakers'. Multiple students got poison ivy or ticks, and where a mess by the time the parents picked them up from the program, which was problematic in so many ways. I've learned from great instructors AND from the not so great, and they have both taught me well!

Three Forest Educators are dedicated to helping students learn and grow 'where they are at', and not where they wish or imagine them to be, in terms of development, ability, or enthusiasm. They adapt their curriculum when necessary and know how to manage their own emotional response to situations to stay focused and effective.

I'm sure there are many other more specific ways to define a 'forest educator' and separate the wheat from the rye, so to speak, but for now, I like this big umbrella where we can all agree and find shelter and support under, and share our passion for helping our students get the benefits of learning in nature!

As always, I look forward to your responses, your ideas and your insights. -Ricardo

When the World Fell Apart

The fall of 2008 was a dark time. It was an election year, so, that was stressful. My son ended up in the hospital with a shunt failure, and as we sat in Albany Medical, waiting for tests and surgery, the stock market began to plunge. We were there for five days or so, and during that time, the entire US economy dropped into darkness.

As a parent with a child with special needs, I've been familiar with the worry that comes with every runny nose, and when I end up in the Intensive Care Unit, it's like an icy hand wraps itself around my heart. On one hand, I only want to give my son the best environment of love and support and faith that things will be okay. On the other, the fear of the unthinkable is intense, and I hang on the slightest inflection of each word from every nurse or doctor in a hyper-aware state of alertness, all day, all night.

I could be in the deepest sleep in a chair, holding his hand, and be instantly awake as a nurse comes in to do a routine check.

It's the kind of 'awareness' that is not pleasant, but it's real, and I could tell you every moment of those days and nights in the most painstaking detail.

Thankfully, once he got what he needed, he recovered quickly, and we ended up home and grateful for the help of everyone in the medical community. But once our life began to feel whole again, it was clear that the outside world was crumbling away.

Retirement savings for millions of people just evaporated overnight. Property values sank like rocks. People were scared, and each day, it seemed like everything just got worse. The fear was palpable in everyone we knew, so, as a small community at Hawk Circle, we created an event to bring people together, get close on the land, and find hope and renewal. We called it the Gift of the Deer Gathering.

I don't remember exactly how many people came, but it was awesome. It was cold in November, but we managed to stay warm in our heated barn workshop room, and share our stories. We had people come from all directions, offering classes and experiences and crafts, all in service to the community. We didn't charge anything, but enough people made small donations that really helped cover the costs of portable toilets and other materials and food. We sang, we told stories, we practiced skills, and we had a bonfire that was epic, with a life-sized, twig 'deer effigy' at the top of the tipi that was sent into the night sky in a shower of sparks.

There was a magic that flowed when we created this experience. No one was trying to 'sell' anything. Everyone was giving from the heart, with what they had, and it was shared and received. I remember a lot of laughter, and prayer, and good words and joy. It was something that truly soothed my spirit, and restored my hope that we would be okay.

I knew that we could ride out this recession, or depression, or whatever it was that we were going through. I knew that we were going to do it together, and that we were strong, like a tribe, even though these people were folks I rarely saw in my daily life. That part didn't matter, really. The bonds of that weekend were stronger than the fear.

There was frost in the fresh fallen leaves each morning, and it was a joy to see people connecting in small groups, to head down a trail to gather some tea, or to work on some hides, or practice making fire without matches.

It's now ten years later, and our world is different. We are deep in the 'Digital Age', with the rise of screen technology entwined in almost every aspect of our culture. I can't even pump gas without seeing video messages, news and sales pitches for car washes or coffee. Our kids are spending over 8 hours a day on tech, on average, and it's literally changing our brains.

These changes are happening so fast, we really are struggling to respond and take action. In many cases, we aren't even really aware of what's happening, or what's causing it, and what would make things better. When our society is specialized and fragmented, it's filled with millions of good people who have not been trained to see the 'Big Picture', or follow the threads of cause and effect.

It's my sincere hope that we can change the direction that our communities are heading, away from anxiety, fear, stress, mental anguish and physical pain, and down a new path, one with community and nature and working with our hands in service to our families and our world.

Maybe it's time for more 'Gifts of the Deer' gatherings, so we can find that peace, that renewal and healing that so many people are longing for, and searching for, but not finding online.

I know plenty of kids and teens would would really love it if their parents and friends could get it too.

Maybe it's time.

My TEDx Experience

When my TEDx application was selected for TEDxOneonta last June, I was both excited and incredibly nervous at the same time. I knew I had a long journey ahead of me to prepare, and hone my message, and I felt incredibly honored by the opportunity! I learned after the talk that my subject was chosen from over 60 other applications, so I realized that this was a big deal.

How do you condense thirty years of time spent teaching people about nature and wilderness skills into 12 minutes? That was my challenge, and believe me, I spent many days and nights thinking and writing drafts and recording myself, trying to 'get it right'.

My topic was about Nature Deficit Disorder, and my 'natural advantage' system that I have used in my Hawk Circle Wilderness camps to achieve powerful results with kids and teens. There are restrictions on what you can say, how you say it, and it can't contain any commercial self promotion, political slants, etc. It was a little daunting!

I watched at least fifty TED talks online, and listened to podcasts of TED talks, over and over. I listened to podcasts of people who had done their own talks, and those who were offering to train others to do their own. I read books about it, and I talked to friends of mine who were Speaker Coaches, for advice and feedback.

I made a secret Facebook group with some of my friends and family who I knew could listen to my drafts, and give me their perspectives and support as I went through this process, so I could get outside of my 'bubble' and try to reach people who aren't 'wilderness or nature' people. I hired a speaking coach, Teri Winston, from Ottawa, to help me fine tune my talk, and my wife Trista was really great at listening to me over and over and over, too!

The day of this event, I went from being really, really nervous to being calm, and trusting what stories and insights I had chosen. I spent some time by the Susquehanna River in Oneonta, asking for nature and the ancestors to help me give this talk in a way that would go beyond me, beyond my own limitations, my own skills and experience, and touch people's hearts. I focused, over and over and over on the concept that this wasn't about me, but it was about the children, who are struggling, and disconnected, and scared, lost and anxious.

It is my hope that this talk approaches that ideal, and that I was able to rise to the occasion, and make a good connection. It's been humbling to hear that people really liked it! We will see how it goes in the long run, but for now, I'm glad it's over! That was really stressful!

Let me know what you think!