Dear You,
How have you been? Hopefully well!
I’m writing with a conflicted heart — feeling and holding the hopefulness of low-hanging-fruit-win-win-win possibilities for nature connection in schools with the Sisyphean nature of change-making in an education system so deeply flawed and complex.
Let’s get into a specific story.
Do you remember my teacher-collaborator-friend, “L”? She’s an incredible educator whose Assistant Principal dropped a bomb at her year-end evaluation that went something like:
‘Stop taking your students to the park for class; it’s not fair to other students who don’t get to go outdoors’.
And, as with many things – especially when I’m all hot and bothered – time yields perspective and reveals nuance.
Tl;dr (Too long; didn’t read; no bots participated in the creation of this particular TLDR)
L’s Assistant Principal initially said they needed to ‘have a meeting’ about taking her students to the park for outdoor nature-based learning because it was “not equitable to the other 4th grade students who didn’t go to the park.”
Turns out, equity was euphemism for the real concern: safety.
Soon-soon, I will write a letter (or letters!) about safety and risk. For now, what follows is the next chapter in L’s story. Part 1 is here. And, by chapter, I mean 7-minute read based on Substack’s algorithms.
The Letter I Wanted to Write
The letter I wanted to write today as the sequel to Equitable Mediocrity Part 1 was about how Teacher “L” met with her Assistant Principal, extolled the myriad benefits of nature-based learning, laid out a plan for how all 4th graders – and the whole school – could go to the park next year for outdoor nature-based learning and…
her Assistant Principal LOVED L’s vision and CHANGED HER MIND!
In this letter-of-my-dreams, L’s Assistant Principal gets so excited she establishes outdoor classroom spaces on the school’s campus that are beautiful tree-filled nooks of awesomeness insulated from the PE-soccer-ball-recess-hullabaloo. There are so many of these spaces that all teachers can teach their classes outdoors at the SAME TIME.
Equity now means all students have access to nature’s benefits through high-quality outdoor nature-based learning. Amazing.
Sigh. This is not the letter I have for you…yet.
The Power of Yet
This will seem random, but hear (err..read) me out. Have you heard of the “Power of Yet?” It’s a concept, popularized by Sesame Street, that my 5-year-old learned in school. It’s basically a growth-mindset mantra. Her example? “I haven’t learned how to swim on my own…yet…and I’m working on it.”
I’ve really latched onto this concept. It’s where I find hope in the morass of barriers making nature-based learning hard even though it makes so much sense!
Back in-real-life, in L’s world, before she could meet with her Assistant Principal to share “her side” of the park-teaching story (sooooo weird to pit one side against another in the context of something that is GOOD.FOR.STUDENTS), a decision was made by the powers that be:
L will not be able to take students to the park during the 2023-24 school year.
The initial stated rationale: “It’s not equitable to the other 4th grade students who don’t get to go to the park.”
Ahhh! When I first heard this news, I fixated on the Assistant Principal’s invocation of equity in the name of some bullshit dystopian “fairness” characterized by students learning in unhealthy cells without access to the breeze, to birdsong, to a babbling brook, to space and freedom and creativity and potential made possible learning outdoors.
My ire grew when L told me she had repeatedly invited and offered support to her 4th-grade colleagues to teach their students at the park too. How can administrators take a decision so boldly contrary to the desires of parents and wellbeing of students - their secondary and primary stakeholders? And, I fumed over the disregard for L’s own happiness and joy as a teacher of 30 YEARS (which literally doesn’t happen anymore – and yet somehow here she is!).
Listening Ears
More measured than I, with patience honed over 30 years in elementary school classrooms, L calmly persisted. She requested a meeting to understand the decision. And went in with “listening ears.” Waaaaay more than I could have done!
With her listening ears, L learned about a variety of concerns. Safety. The upcoming class has a range of high-needs kids (Autism, toileting issues). Safety. It’s hard to reach L and the students when they’re at the park. Safety. The school doesn’t have enough structures to support it. Safety. Fear.
No Option is Completely Safe (Credit to )
So, obviously I need to write a letter about risk. Timely, right after
’s post: No Option is Completely Safe.For now, a few quick notes:
Actual risk and perceived risk are different
The likelihood of injury through outdoor nature-based learning in nearby nature is quite low.1
Immediate physical risks (e.g., breaking a leg) tend to overshadow long-term risks (e.g., diabetes, heart disease, drug addiction, etc.)
Risk management, and weighing the benefits and consequences of our actions, is a critical life skill.
Our unscientific, bubble-wrapped, misguided avoidance strategy is one of the biggest barriers to nature-based learning – especially outdoor nature-based learning. So if we want to mainstream nature-based learning because we know that our students’, educators’, and planet’s wellbeing and very survival depend on it, we must address the 10,026-pound Safety Gorilla.
Cloudy with a chance of sunshine
Back at L’s school, sunshine is in the forecast even as risk clouds her administrators’ judgment. In fact, L’s district leaders have already purchased 3 shade structures for outdoor learning and they are “willing…very willing to grow teaching outdoors…just on campus.”
So we go back to our breath. Our mantra. The power of yet. And we baby step our way to outdoor learning at the park by first establishing outdoor nature-based learning on campus. We manage risk.
Gotta run to draft an email to L’s Assistant Principal to see how we can retool and redesign systems to manage risks (and recalibrate understanding about risks to begin with).
Maybe this is the letter I dreamed of writing after all.
Becca
PS - Will you please share this post with someone you know?
“Recent research showed that children would have to play outside for three hours per day for approximately 10 years before they were likely to have one medically-treated (and likely minor) injury.” Source: Brussoni, Mariana. “Keeping Children Safe Means Letting Them Take Risks.” Play for Wales, Play Wales, 2017, https://issuu.com/playwales/docs/risky_play_-_mariana_brussoni. Accessed 31 May 2023.
Research points to the importance of risk-taking opportunities in play for children’s health and development, including promoting self-confidence, social development, physical activity, and resilience. Source: Brussoni M, Gibbons R, Gray C, Ishikawa T, Sandseter EBH, Bienenstock A, Chabot G, Fuselli P, Herrington S, Janssen I, Pickett W, Power M, Stanger N, Sampson M, Tremblay MS. What is the Relationship between Risky Outdoor Play and Health in Children? A Systematic Review. International Journal of Environmental Research and Public Health. 2015; 12(6):6423-6454. https://doi.org/10.3390/ijerph120606423
Risk in Play and Learning: Ubud-Höör Declaration, International School Grounds Alliance; Accessed on April 14, 2022: https://outdoorclassroomday.com/2017/11/22/safe-necessary-not-safe-possible/