Healing Our Children, Healing the Earth: Carolyn Walker

There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,

The earth, and every common sight,

To me did seem

Apparell'd in celestial light,

The glory and the freshness of a dream.

--from "Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood," 

by William Wordsworth

There is a childhood epidemic sweeping our country today, infecting millions of our young people and compromising their prospects for the future and the future of the planet itself. It may already be too widespread to stop altogether, but there is reason to hope. For all across the nation, there are increasing numbers of valiant women and men who have committed themselves challenging this threat. The malady is called Nature Deficit Disorder, and one of its heroic enemies lives right here in our community: Carolyn Walker. Founder and director of Woodland Discovery, Carolyn works tirelessly to provide opportunities for children (and often their also-deficient parents) to get outdoors, to learn about the natural world, and to come to love and protect it.

For this second installment in the Sustainability Heroes Series*, I sat down with Carolyn Walker to talk about her work and what energizes her.

LBCF:  What led you to start Woodland Discovery?

Carolyn:  When I finished my education, I was planning on teaching high school business, since that is what I had been trained to do. But after five children, I realized that I really loved working with preschoolers. Around that time, I read somewhere the quotation, "As the twig is bent, so the tree inclines," and I realized that the best way to make an impact on someone's life is to influence them early.

So instead, I began teaching preschool. I spent many years doing that. I loved it; I loved working with the children there. But I kept seeing these kids come in who didn't want to go outside, didn't want to touch dirt, were afraid to try to climb a tree. I was also seeing preschool education becoming more and more academic--placing more emphasis on math and reading (often way too early) and devoting less and less time to play.

I saw parents accepting all this because they were afraid that if they didn't, their children would fall behind. They didn't realize that free play in nature is probably the best foundation for academic success. They didn't realize that the best way to keep kids safe in the long run is not to ban them from climbing trees or wading in water, but to teach them how to decide which risks to take so that they can learn to keep themselves safe without our intervention. I always told my own children and my preschoolers, "Sure, go ahead and climb the tree. But don't climb any higher than you want to fall." Then I would move closer to talk them through the process or catch the occasional misstep.

I actually just learned that insurance companies in Germany are starting to encourage schools to create more dangerous playgrounds. They report that they are tired of paying claims for so many adults who do not have any balance or "risk sense." What studies are beginning to show is that nature play has measurable positive outcomes in physical, mental, emotional, and cognitive ways--for both children and adults.

LBCF:  So what finally led you to start up this business?

Carolyn:  It's a long story. I was at a turning point in my career. I needed more autonomy in my work to do what was best for children, rather than cater to adults. And I wanted to do something that I felt passionate about. I had just finished reading Richard Louv's book (Last Child in the Woods: Saving our Children from Nature-Deficit Disorder**). I love children; I love being outdoors; I love to be creative; and I love to play. It all fit! And it would fulfill a unique need in our community. I thought that perhaps I could help parents get their children back into the woods. I realized that if they didn't have the time or the resources or a safe environment to let their kids play in nature, I could do that for them.

I spoke with some parents about it, and a lot of them said, "If you get something going, we'll send our kids to you." I first thought about starting a school, but the land purchase didn't work out. So then I decided that maybe I could make Woodland Discovery a mobile thing. I started offering classes at parks and on others' properties--moving from place to place as needed.

[Woodland Discovery now offers classes and camps year-round. My own daughters took a 6-week nature class with "Ms. Carolyn" last fall and had a wonderful experience. You can find their Woodland Discovery's 2012 summer camp schedule at http://www.woodlanddiscovery.org/summer-camp.]

LBCF:  Do you have a 5- or 10-year vision for how Woodland Discovery might look in the future?

Carolyn:  It would be wonderful if we could acquire some land of our own. This would allow me to do so much more than I am able to do right now. Before I even thought of providing nature studies, for instance, I thought a lot about playgrounds and how sterile and removed from nature most of them are. I think it would be great if we could have a "natural playground" with real stumps and trees that the kids could climb. We could have a children's garden and an outdoor classroom. It could be a prototype outdoor learning center, where teachers could come for ideas and then work on replicating similar playing and learning spaces where they work.

[Woodland Discovery is looking for a benefactor who could help them purchase a modest property on which to build such a playground and as a base site for their classes and camps.]

LCBF:  You are also on the board of World of Wonder (WOW), a collaboration with Davidson Lands Conservancy (DLC). Can you tell us a little bit about that group as well?

Carolyn:  WOW was the brainchild of Pam Dykstra, President of DLC, who realized that if we wanted people to become committed to conserving land, we needed to help the next generation value it. My contribution was to brainstorm activities that would be family/kid-friendly. So WOW was set up to provide nature education opportunities for children and their families. Our two main methods of educating these groups are through the booth we have at the Davidson Farmer's Market and the nature-education excursions we sponsor (all of which welcome children). We couldn't do any of this without dedicated committee members and volunteers. WOW has been wildly successful--so successful that I think we may see it replicated in other communities. Wouldn't that be wonderful?

[To find more information on these activities and a schedule of upcoming events, visit http://www.davidsonlands.org/category/worldofwonder/, or sign up for the weekly WOW e-mail by writing to dlc.wow@gmail.com.]

________________________

Mother Teresa of Calcutta once said, 

What I do you cannot do; but what you do, I cannot do. The needs are great, and none of us, including me, ever do great things. But we can all do small things with great love and together we can do something wonderful.

Not many of us could do the work that Carolyn Walker is doing. It is time-consuming, intellectually and socially demanding, frequently messy, and often unnoticed. Yet she--and all the good folks who work with her--are doing something truly wonderful. They are offering to our children and our earth a brighter, healthier future. It is hard to imagine more worthwhile work than that.

* This interview series is meant to celebrate people in and around west-central North Carolina who are making valiant efforts to live sustainably and to help others on their own sustainable living journeys. It is my hope that these interviews will be a source of information and inspiration to the readers of this blog.

**If you would like to learn more about Richard Louv's book, Last Child in the Woods, or to become involved in the Child and Nature Network that was established to respond to the challenges presented in the book, visit http://www.childrenandnature.org/.

Real Work, Fun Times

"The child becomes a person through work." --Maria Montessori, physician and educator

A few weeks ago, my twin sister and her daughter came to spend a weekend with us. For my girls, having their Auntie Jules come to visit is a little like getting a trip to the amusement park without having to leave home. She is one of those rare adults who actually remembers what it was like to be a kid. She tells goofy jokes; she tickles; she teases; she plays hide and seek; she gets everyone (including herself) in trouble with the other adults; and--most incredibly to me--she seems to thoroughly enjoy all of it. For her, hanging out with kids is not exhausting but invigorating. And they know it. They LOVE it.

Jules is also pretty good with hammers, drills, screwdrivers, and power saws. My academic husband and I are--well, let's just say we are not. (He may beg to differ, as he often insists that he is actually quite skilled with all such tools. I'm remaining skeptical until I see him actually do something with them.) When Jules comes to visit, then, she tends to get strapped into putting things together, hanging things on walls, and fixing things we have broken. Among the tasks I had lined up for her that weekend was helping me hang some heavy tool racks in the garden shed and the barn. It was a surprisingly time-consuming job and one that took us the better part of an afternoon. But we got finally got them up straight and secure. And it felt great.

While we were working, the three girls (her 4-year-old and my 5- and 7-year-olds) came to ask Jules if she could help them build a secret hideout out of some of the planks and boards left over from the barn construction. My girls had been "building" things with these pieces for a couple of weeks--cobbling together houses, a playground, paddocks, and so forth. But now that they had seen us at work, they wanted to do some real building--the kind with hammers, screwdrivers, and saws. So of course, Jules followed them down to their work site in the pasture and stayed there for more than an hour helping them to put together their hideout. I have rarely seen such serious, concentrated labor. They hammered, measured, screwed, sawed, checked the level, made adjustments, and then stood back to admire their work. They were elated.

Later, after their aunt and cousin had gone back home, I asked the girls, "What was your favorite part of the weekend?" You can probably guess their answer. Even though they had played endless games, marched in a parade, seen a video, put on a super-silly play, been read to numerous times, and been taken to get ice cream--with sprinkles--they immediately responded that their favorite part of the weekend was building the hideout with Auntie Jules.

Why is this? Because kids love to do real work. Not all the time, of course (as any parent who has begged his child AGAIN to clean up her bedroom will attest). But in general, kids get a great deal of satisfaction out of doing meaningful labor. Unfortunately, this is one of those things that most of us adults have forgotten about childhood. We assume that kids want to play. And to some extent we are right: they do want to play. They need to play and ought to play. But for kids, doing real work can be the best kind of play. My girls, for example, enjoy playing chef. So occasionally I let them drag my mixing bowls, measuring cups and spoons, and cutting boards out of the kitchen cabinets and set up a pretend kitchen in the den. They pour, stir and chat, chat, chat as they concoct elaborate dishes for their dad and me to "taste". This is fun. Yet most days both of them would choose instead to help me mix up a real cookie batter, or chop vegetable sticks for their own lunch, or knead dough that they will later smell baking in the oven.

Maria Montessori, Rudolf Steiner and Charlotte Mason (along with other 20th century pioneers of alternative education) recognized children's enthusiasm for worthwhile labor. Building upon that enthusiasm, in fact, formed a key component of their educational philosophies. Today, though, our society generally ignores and sometimes even actively discourages children's interest in doing real work. Perhaps this is because many of us big people assume that little people are much less capable of constructive tasks than they actually are. Why on earth do we assume that a 4-year-old who can master a new video game in a matter of minutes is unable to break an egg into a bowl? Or that a kindergartener who can glide effortlessly around the park on her new scooter is incapable of making up her own bed?

Of course, farming families around the world have known for centuries that kids can play a variety of essential roles in maintaining the wellbeing of a family and a community. But we are--most of us--no longer farmers. And our kids more often than not "get in the way" when they try to help. We occasionally humor them and allow them to make a couple of strokes with the paint brush or move the broom around the floor a few while, but when it's time to get serious work done, it's our turn.

I believe we ought to try handing back the brush and the broom and giving them a chance. We may just find that doing so will leave us all better off--and happier--in the long run.