The State of our State and the World it's within

If you were to read every blog I've written (not counting those angsty livejournal pages from High school), you would note a clear shift from environmentalist to doomsdayer. It's becoming increasingly difficult to put down my "Oh-shit, we're fucked" mindset and focus on the joys of nagging people to recycle one bottle at a time...especially in our current world. If you don't know what I'm taking about, pick up any newspaper.

The EPA being sued for violating clean air policy 
Massive Oil Spill in Indonesia

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These are just a couple headlines in the last few weeks.

I am fortunate in some ways to get to spend the Spring away from technology and news, hiking in remote public and private lands of Northwestern New Mexico with local students, sharing with them an appreciation for the Earth beneath their feet, and trying with all my might to instill a sense of wonder at this wholly-connected world we live in.
Despite my very full-time job leading and organizing camping trips, I have had some unique opportunities so far this year, to travel beyond those trips and gather beta on the depressing (my opinion) state of our future generations.

Some students on an adventure-focused trek 

REI's latest ad campaign states that Americans spend an average of 95% of their lives INDOORS. Despite constant evidence that, as animals, we are designed to be in and connect with nature, we seem to be increasingly ignoring this connection, and even causing harm to it. This is both promising and discouraging-- even heart-wrenching. Working in a field that promotes environmental literacy, there is a sort of capitalistic promise in that we are making positions like mine, and the knowledge I possess more scarce. But it won't matter how marketable my skills are when our mono-crops have failed, we've destroyed 25% of the Earth's diversity, and billions of people are fighting over privately owned water sources. See-- sustainability and politics/the hope of our future freedoms are more hand in hand that most of America believes, it seems.

Outside Magazine's most recent issue has an article explaining the pollution and mismanagement of Mt Everest. I think this is a beautifully horrifying metaphor for our use of the outdoors. Mt Everest is a microcosm of our use of nature. Find the biggest/baddest and conquer it, giving little thought to the impact of you doing so.  In the same magazine as the REI ad and the Mt. Everest article, there's a review of the movie Mountain. With our decreasing understanding of the Earth and how it's working, and the slow stripping away of our public lands, romantic places to relax and unwind will so soon be full of people and pollution.

This weekend I led a presentation for the Association of Experiential Education conference here in Albuqeurque. My topic was how to engrain Environmental Education into Outdoor Education because it came to my attention at the international conference in November, that they aren't the same thing. There are currently people earning degrees in Outdoor Leadership and Adventure Learning that don't have biology, ecology or environmental studies as a required course. They take students into the wilderness for days or weeks at a time, and don't know of the incredible contentedness of the ecology they're existing in. This is a huge problem.

I attended two education conferences this winter. At SXSW EDU in Austin last month, I stood in a room full of ways to connect students to new technologies, to teach circuit building and robotics. One company teaches through holograms-- allowing kids to "experience" new things. We are clearly on the verge of a futuristic world that I honestly don't want to live in. I was one of three organizations there that offered travel experiences, and the only one that does so unplugged. We are so obsessed with ensuring kids have the abilities to be 'connected' we have forgotten to connect them first with the earth beneath their feet.

My booth at SXSW

At the Montessori Conference in Denver, I was a little more enlightened. Inspired by the Rachel Carson quote,

 "If a child is to keep alive his inborn sense of wonder, he needs the companionship of at least one adults who can share it, rediscovering with him the joy, excitement, and mystery of the world we live in."

I was reminded that Montessori educators value nature, above most things, and students lucky enough to receive a Montessori education have greater environmental literacy than most. The conference was concurrent with the rallies for stricter gun control, which was inspiring to see. It is my understanding that most of what they are asking for is already in play in our legal system...but it was encouraging to see the turnout of families and adults and children of all ages.

Every day, I am grateful that I followed my heart toward a degree in Environmental Studies. And every day I am enraged that the people who make political decisions, educate our youth, and affect our daily lives did not obtain the same simple education. I am working HARD to ensure that everyone, at least in New Mexico, has some environmental awareness. But this fight is taking too long. At this rate, there will be little of our Mother Earth to fight for by the time we win. I am honestly afraid of what is to come. All I can do in the meantime is smell the flowers and wonder for how many years they will be able to bloom.

Want to test your "Environmental Literacy"? Here's a quiz with some basic questions EVERYONE should know.

A day in the Life

I really do feel like I have the best job in the world.
Today, I got to take 48 Montessori students (1st, 2nd and 3rd grade) on a 3 mile hike to a beautiful vista at Kasha-Katuwe Tent Rocks National Monument.

While driving there, some of the usual environmental concerns popped into my head.
'Would it be more efficient for us to have newer vehicles? Or is it good that we maintain our old vehicles so that we don't have to use new resources?'
'Could the kids get the same experience from something closer, cutting our driving time and fuel use down?'
...etc.
Overall, I think that we do a pretty good low-impact outdoor experience, and that impact is made up for by the positive impact I see our excursions having on the students.

The day was full of funny things kids say, like "Aw, how sad, some people died" as we passed the cemetery, or one kid telling the other that he is not a mature 2nd grader. And there were some tears as we neared the top and they couldn't get their little legs to lift up those big rocks anymore. But the highlight for me came from about .5 mile into the hike. We were stopped at an oak tree, examining the acorns, when I pulled off a gall

(like this, but orange)

 

and asked them what they thought it was. I had them pass it around to confirm that it was something squishy, which was one of the items we needed for our scavenger hunt. Then I opened the top and showed them the inside. The same little girl who I had talked to about having a positive mental attitude, and had expressed that you don't know how much you like something until you try, said "WOW! I LOVE hiking! I want to do this more often." Later she told me she wanted to do this at least once a month.
It was her who had the most struggles going up, and despite the fact that sometimes she said she was a "tough cookie" as she took another step, other times she said she couldn't make it.
I made a deal that if she made it to the top, I'd carry her backpack back down....and guess what? She made it to the top. She was so proud, she carried her own backpack down (as I suspected she would).

Her mother thanked me for my "interaction with [her] daughter" at the end of the trip, but the pleasure was all mine. Even if she was the only kid to feel like this was a wonderful experience, and that hiking and exploring and breathing fresh air is something that she wants to do regularly, I feel we succeeded. But I imagine we sparked a bit of interest. And we get to take the group out again in October.

Cross County Culture …

We parked and roamed the shopping strip, amazed at the amount of taffy shops (at least 9). It turns out that the shops and sights I remembered are actually in Boulder. Estes Park is a small mountain town that looks like it reached its height of tourism in the 80’s. It reminded us of Telluride, but not as new-age.

What really captivated us was the glass blowing store. They had a glass blowing studio in the store where you could watch him create the pieces they sold- a brilliant plan, because once you watch it you’re more attached to the artist and piece and more willing to buy. We watched him make two glass pumpkins and then Amil bought us earrings.

That night we visited the town Theatre, appreciating it’s antiquity, including an old movie projector in the hallway, and it’s independence from big theater corporations. We watched a documentary about Crop Circles and heard a talk by the director, then drove back to our campsite.

We woke up and packed up, our site being reminiscent of Big Bear, but a little wetter. I ate breakfast while watching clouds hold back the sun, listening to Amil play guitar, then we head out for a day of hiking in Rocky Mountain National Park. We settled on a hike called Deer mountain, that afforded us beautiful views of Estes Park, and our campsite down below.

We hiked up in 1.5 hours and ran down in 45 minutes, then hopped in the car and head to my cousin’s house to stay with her family for a few nights.

I love visiting my family in Longmont because I don’t get to hang out with them often, and I have fond memories of playing in their three story modern Victorian home with my cousin. What was really strange was how much my younger cousin, resembeled Brittany when we were young.   
The first night we got there, we were treated to a classic family dinner of Spaghetti and garlic bread. Although I’ve had my share of pasta dinners in my residencies, this one in particular brought me back to the meals my mom would make growing up. We dined on the front porch, watching the colors of Colorado fade into dusk. 
I took a nostalgic walk around the neighborhood in the morning, then strolled around the very cute downtown that I don’t think I had visited before. I dropped my computer off at a local shop, and perused through a Bulk food store where you bring your own containers and everything is available in bulk, from nuts and grains to dog food to shampoo and detergents.

That night, our gracious hosts took us to an amazing “new Mexican” restaurant, where I gorged myself on chips, salsa and guacamole (you customize what’s in the guac and they make it right in front of you), and sopapilla rellanos (which I’ve never seen before), as well as a pretty strong margarita (maybe it was just strong because I can’t remember the last time I had a margarita).

The next morning I went on a run to explore more of the neighborhood , then Amil and I went to the farmers market and got some goodies for our upcoming drive back to California, and to make for dinner. 
He made a delicious and abundant meal of fancy rice, bean slaw, coconut bread, and I made a salsa. I had really enjoyed my time here, catching up with the family, playing on the rope in the backyard, walking back through old memories and sitting on the porch reading my new books. When I was young I always dreamed I would have a house that big, and marveled at the three stories, plus basement (now a home office), plus carriage house (they rent out). After college I toyed with the idea of renting their carriage house while studying the ecology of Colorado and establishing residency. Coming back this year, it was clear that my ideals have changed, at least from my big-home dreams. 
As much as I appreciated the homeliness of their big home, and the accessibility of the town of Longmont, I was eager to get on the road and move into my own home. We had just one more stop to make and person to see.

Our last day in Colorado was spent packing the car, full with fruits and veggies from the farmers market as well as grains and flours from various stops, and leftover concoctions from the week. We bid adieu to the family and head over to Boulder to meet an old friend at a Tea House. 
We visited this friend in Colorado last year, helping her paint a her room, and playing with her sugar gliders. This time we were going to join her for Tea where her fiancé works. Although living in cold weather has made me appreciate hot tea, I deflected the experience by ordering a fruity iced tea with tapioca bubbles. Amil, however, really enjoyed his Pu ehr(?) tea, and after sipping cup after cup, bought two different kinds and a special mug to drink it out of. As we drove away, he expressed how much he appreciated this knew drink, and the overall experience. We drove away from Colorado not realizing that it would be the last time in days that we saw the sun, toward Arches National Park.