by Katie Tozier.
While teaching Mountain School at North Cascades Institute’s Environmental Learning Center, it’s easy to forget the world outside of our
remote community. Every Monday and Wednesday, a bus arrives and drops off fifty
or sixty students, who lug their suitcases, backpacks and sleeping bags up to
campus in ankle-high converse, fashionable rain boots, and sock-monkey hats.
After orientation, lunch, and some gearing up, we spend the next forty-eight
hours studying under the constant gaze of snow-capped peaks, western red
cedars, and a Pacific Northwest mist. On the third and final day of Mountain
School, we strive to connect our experiences back to the larger community and
greater ecosystem – the world. But this can be challenging. Living and working
in the remote community bubble of Mountain School makes it easy to forget about
the world students leave when they board the bus.
Recently, I had the pleasure of leaving this community for a
short time and venturing down valley to the classrooms of schools sending their
students to Mountain School. Weeks before students arrive at the Environmental
Learning Center, Mountain School Instructors visit them at their school,
attempt to get them riled up about their visit, and share some basic ‘you-should-know’
information to help them prepare. This information (ironically enough) is
conveyed through an impressive PowerPoint slideshow – packed with pictures of
towering mountain peaks, cute baby animals, and students in their bunk beds!
Recently, my task was to do five pre-trip presentations between Centennial
Elementary School (Mt. Vernon), Samish Elementary (Sedro-Woolley), Columbia
Elementary (Bellingham), and Cedar River Montessori (Renton). As I drove down
valley, reviewing the slideshow script in my head, I thought I knew what to
expect walking into the classrooms. But what awaited me was a little
surprising.
Unfailingly, the first thing I think after walking out of a
pre-trip visit is, “Classroom teachers are saints.” With the stage set for
learning inside four walls, classroom teachers are constantly striving to
creatively engage their students, who sit behind small, decorated desks.
Contrarily, at Mountain School we are outside, hiking, skipping, hiding, and
tiptoeing in an environment that’s constantly changing around us – where
there’s ample opportunity to interpret and learn from the landscape! Yet there
I stood, in front of a room filled with fifty faces, illuminated by the glow of
a slideshow reflecting on a white board.
“Mountain Schoolers, you get to come to a very special place
soon. Who knows where we will be for Mountain School?” They reply
enthusiastically, “The mountains! The snow! The Cascades!” Yes, yes --- all
true.
After some whittling, we finally conclude that Mountain
School is located in North Cascades National Park.
“Who can name the two other National Parks in the State of
Washington?” I ask.
Without fail, every class announces, “Yellowstone!” Yes, Yellowstone
is a National Park (the first, in fact, designated in 1872), but alas, it is in
the State of Wyoming. I try to prompt them by asking if they know the image on
most Washington State license plates (fishing for Mount Rainier).
“Oooh! I know!” A confident hand shoots up, “The Evergreen
State!”
Needless to say, it takes us a little bit of time to
recognize Mt. Rainier and Olympic as the two other, relatively local, National
Parks.
As we progress through the slideshow of dramatic peaks, high
alpine lakes, moss-covered trails, mountain goats, baby bears, and salal
berries, it’s only a matter of time before a hesitant hand raises, and begs the
question, “Do you have bathrooms at Mountain School?”
They gasp and a hush falls over the room. I smile, “Well, we
spend some of our time indoors right?”
“Yes!” they reply, eagerly.
“We have bathrooms (with toilets and showers) inside,” I
add.
“YESSS!” they exclaim and cheer together.
“But where do we spend most
of our time at Mountain School?” I ask them.
“Outside?” they reply, hesitantly.
“And do we have bathrooms outside?” I ask.
“I don’t know – are
there Honey Buckets at Mountain School?” asks one student. (Honey Buckets, I
learned after relocating to the Pacific Northwest, are the port-a-potties of
choice around here.)
“There are no Honey Buckets at Mountain School,” I reply.
Exclamations of ‘uhhhh, grosss, ewwwww, nooo!’ rise up from the students, as
classroom teachers smile on from the sides of the room. “We like to go to the
bathroom outside at Mountain School, using something we call... The Nature’s Calling Kit!” After some
explaining – they accept the notion that they’ll have to cross that bridge when
they get here.
“Yes – but can we bring our iPods to Mountain School?”
Classroom teachers often jump on this question right away, “No, we’ve already
discussed this – if I see any electronics at Mountain School, you can expect to
have them confiscated.” Suppressed sighs and groans circulate through the
students.
But moments later, one asks, “But what about cameras?!” This
question creates a nice segue into a discussion of Leave No Trace ethics. Since,
of course, Mountain School is in North Cascades National Park, we strive to
adhere to Leave No Trace principles.
“At Mountain School, we abide by the rule, leave only footprints, take only pictures.
So yes, cameras are welcome at Mountain School.”
“Yaaayyyy!” they exclaim once more. But inevitably, the
question arises, “What if my iPod has my camera on it? Like... they’re the same
thing?” I guess things have really changed since I was in Elementary School.
“Can we bring Hot Cheetos to Mountain School?” I explained
our policy against snack food in the lodges (so as not to bait small rodents
inside), and didn’t think much of this question until I walked into another
classroom and heard it again - verbatim! Naturally, I couldn’t help but wonder,
“Are Hot Cheetos the new rage?” Sure enough, I walked into a third classroom
and found students indulging in their snacks... Hot Cheetos! “They’re so good!”
they explained with red fingers and faces. As I walked out of the final pre-trip
classroom, towards the Institute’s Prius, I smiled, “Hot Cheetos, huh? Who
knew?”
I sat for a minute and pictured the steep terrain, green
water, and dense forests of Mountain School that I had vacated the past few
days. While brief stints into civilization can be most enjoyable, I missed my
mountain community and looked forward to their welcoming arms. So I wondered,
what if bringing students to Mountain School could replace Hot Cheetos as the
new rage? What if their backyard -the Cascades- became their new passion? Or
National Parks? What if their experiences at Mountain School prompted them to
think differently about the world and their role in caring for that world?
That’s our hope at least. But because it’s so easy to forget that (at least for
the time being) Hot Cheetos are pretty exciting, it’s important for instructors
to get down to the classrooms and meet students in their reality. Connecting
student experiences at Mountain School to their real worlds is just another
reason that Pre-Trips are so important --- for students and instructors.
Otherwise – who knows what will supersede Hot Cheetos? I’m keeping my fingers
crossed for positive affects for environmental stewardship set in motion
through Mountain School.
Leading photo of graduate student Alex Patia giving a pre-trip lesson. Photo by Erin Soper.
No comments:
Post a Comment