12 Feb 2009
At a dinner party recently, a group of parents were talking about our city's fledgling recycling program, the upcoming inauguration of a new president and last year's animated hit Wall-E.
Someone commented on the great environmental message of the film, and how wonderful it is that the "reduce-reuse-recycle" mantra is becoming second nature to our children. I countered that while recycling is certainly important -- and long overdue in our city -- it isn't the whole answer. I worried, I told them, that our children were being raised to see nature as something to fear, something foreign, rather than something that they are a part of. My friend responded: "Yes, but we can't change that. We live where we live."
I was a bit caught off guard by this comment. And felt, for a moment, rather defeated. I've been trying so hard to get my kids out as much as possible, to make them feel a part of nature. Connected. Whole. And though we visit State Parks and take camping trips as often as we can, the fact of the matter is that we do live in an urban neighborhood. We can't change that. I don't want to change that. But I also don't want my children to grow up thinking nature is something you drive to visit.
Very few of us have the opportunity to open the back door and find acres of open space in which to roam. In fact, the 2000 U.S. Census says fewer than 21% of us live in rural areas. That pastoral landscape may be the stuff of the perfect fantasy childhood, but it is far from reality for most of us -- and far from the only way to embrace nature.
Today my 3-year-old pointed out a family of egrets along the side of the highway. An hour later she found a bird nest in a parking lot tree. Nature was there. Surrounded by asphalt -- but there, none the less. We could see it, hear it, smell it, talk about it.
And what of all those backyard moments? Feeling the dirt between your toes on the first warm springtime afternoon . . . finding a particularly large and squirmy caterpillar on the front walk . . . searching for acorns gnawed by hungry squirrels . . . watching clouds through tree branches while swinging back and forth, back and forth. . . These are the things they will remember. These are the experiences that are connecting my children to their environment.
Those little interactions every day let them know that nature is not something you go to visit, not something remote and separate and a little scary. It isn't something you have to work hard to find. In fact, you just have to stop working for a minute, stop moving for a minute.
Just open the door and open your eyes . . . and it will find you.
Ashley Waldvogel Gaddy is a mother, artist, and college professor living in Savannah, GA. She loves discovering the world again through the eyes of her 5-year-old son, Fletcher and 3-year-old daughter, Lola Gray. Ashley blogs about life with her children at www.fletcherandlola.wordpress.com .
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