There’s only one other place I’ve been where the landscape reflects limitless possibilities as it does in the West, and that’s out at sea. Sitting on the bowsprit of a sailing vessel is much like standing at the top of a mountain; the wide-open vista feels like a concrete metaphor for unending options in all directions. Last night at the Bud Werner Memorial Library, as I listened to author Craig Childs share his experiences in some of the most remote locations on Earth, and the exploratory childhood that led him to appreciate the wide-open possibilities they represent, I thought about the ways in which being out on the land can expand the growth of a child. As a child, Childs was always “getting out there and going,” sometimes accompanied by his mother but always encouraged by her. He explored, and his written reflections on those explorations were the precursors to his current writing as a naturalist. Someone asked him how he first got started writing, and he referred to learning letter formation in kindergarten. Childs’ experiences during his early years were what set him up to truly love nature and to be able to communicate that love.
In Steamboat Springs, there is such an opportunity to experience and explore nature in an active way, just as at Whiteman Primary students have ongoing opportunities to process and write about those experiences. In a recent Chinook class, students looked closely at an aspect of their environment, thought about that aspect as a metaphor for a bigger idea, and wrote essays about that idea. While working on writing skills, they were also honing their critical thinking skills. As our students look forward to their Spring Camp trips, spending time in the outdoors camping, hiking, biking, and observing, they can expect opportunities for journaling and other writing to help them put their experiences into a larger context.
Our teachers, too, enjoy broadening their views and expanding their learning while they are out in the natural world. Childs talked about his desire to be there for the moment of change – the change in sound precipitation makes on a window as snow turns to rain, the hardening of the ground as lava turned to rock, the visual explosion as dark turns to light – and it is the moment of change in a child that teachers live for. Watching the joy of a child recognizing that printed material has meaning brings joy to a teacher, as does the discussion with a young adolescent about how the movement a school of fish can be seen to represent human behavior. The experiential side of a Whiteman Primary education is full of such magical moments for students, teachers, and parents. I wonder how many of our students will look back to their transformative experiences here in Steamboat Springs as the start of their love of the outdoors and writing?
