Early this November, the week of the election, I flew to Pittsburgh for the Environmental Association for Environmental Education (NAAEE) Conference. I was not sure what kind of scene I would find amidst the conference with the results of the election so recent. Would it be a gathering and collective mourning around a shifting administration that promises to shift standards around environmental protection? Would doom and gloom rule the mood in this group of educators as they faced the future?
I took my red eye flight over the United States, periodically peering at the dim lights on the land below. Wondering, wishing, reflecting on this great collection of cities. Fierce turbulence shook the plane and I felt the fragility of our human made vessel trusting its course across the winds. Winds of change indeed as the country slept in a spectrum of fitful (some joyful, some angsty) dreams. How could this unity of lights reflect a country so polarized in the light of the American day?
After seeing the sun dawn against the eastern sky I was grateful to land safely and for my adventure in Pittsburgh to begin. I had never been to Pittsburgh or to anywhere in Pennsylvania before. I love old things and places and so this historic terrain drew me in right away.
My Lyft driver, Augustine, was kind and talkative and oriented me to the city as he drove. He pointed out the directions and spoke of the many rivers that divided the city. It has become known as “The City of Bridges” for its over 1500 bridges. He also filled me in on the Pittsburgh’s industrial past of which I had only been vaguely aware. Pittsburgh's location on those navigable waterways and abundance of natural resources (including coal, timber, and iron) made it an industrial center for the nation in the late 1800s to early 1900s. It was also, consequently, extremely polluted at that time. Rivers were toxic with industrial and human waste. The sky was so dark with smog lights that it had to be turned on during the day. I remembered Donald Trump's pledge to "Make America Great Again" - was this heydey, when Pittsburgh had the most millionaires per capita, that he is referring to?
It wasn’t until the iron and steel industries collapsed that the air improved and finally, after much change and clean-up of practices, became known as the beautiful city it is today. It then occurred to me that this historical “City of Bridges” was the perfect gathering place for environmental educators. I had no idea what further revelations lay ahead.
The Westin Hotel kindly accepted my reservation early and I crashed asleep for a few hours in a comfortable room that overlooked Pittsburgh’s downtown. It was then time to jump into the conference.
Funny enough, the first presentation I was able to join was entitled “Building Bridges: Environmental Education in a Divided America.” All seats were filled and people spilled into the corners and floors of the room. This was the conversation everyone wanted to have!
The presentation and panel discussion revealed a soon-to-be released documentary entitled In Our Nature which “takes you across America, exploring the power of nature-based education to bridge divides, foster unity, and build stronger communities—one shared moment of wonder at a time.” It revealed another state I have never been, such as Kentucky, that has successfully led environmental education efforts in a place where people were pulling their children out of public schools because they taught climate change. I have held vague judgements of many of these “red states” while here they are revealed to contain gorgeous landscapes that all people love regardless of political allegiance. I was able to meet the educators that are committed to connecting children to nature in these increasingly technological times.
On the panel was Griff Griffith, an eco-edutainer and host of Animal Planet’s Wild Jobs. A natural, charismatic storyteller, he kept the audience engaged and even laughing as the presenters wrestled with technical difficulties. It proved to me how the power of storytelling can welcome and envelope even the most challenged audiences, opening their ears and minds to the world outside. Meeting him after the presentation proved to be a valuable connection to further my research on the connection between storytelling and nature connection which Griff affirmed was “where we’re going.”
The panel as a whole expressed that right now we need stories of how environmental education is bridging the perceived divide in our country. The documentary, by showing these stories in Kentucky, proves how nature itself can bring people together across differences.
I next attended a lecture on Environmental Entrepreneurship that gave me further hope in advancements in “Ecopreneurship” which included companies that fund sustainable and animal right protections (such as Lush) and the development of sustainable products such as True Pigments (environmentally friendly art supplies) and plastic alternatives (MI TERRO). This presentation also showed how students are being guided to become their own inventors and environmental entrepreneurs. The instruction firmly faces problems with efforts to find solutions, instead of disparaging the reality.
One other workshop I’ll mention was Centering Indigenous Ways of Knowing In Environmental Education which had some great guidance on consulting and engaging local indigenous elders in educational approaches. Namely, how best to ask for permission and to give back to the communities who have this guidance to offer.
That evening, conference attendees were welcomed to the Heinz history museum, which is in connection with the Smithsonian. This was an extraordinary museum with photography that revealed the city’s past industrial age. It was also there that I realized Pittsburgh as the home of famous figures I have admired throughout my life - Mr. Rogers, Andy Warhol and Rachel Carson (whose book Silent Spring launched the modern environmental movement). I had many deep and interesting conversations with film makers, writers and teachers that evening. One of them, after taking my business card, recognized a bridge in one of the stone images. There was a meaningful feeling of bridging and bonding happening in the city of bridges!
Many went on to party that night, but I had an early morning to present my workshop “Stones Speak: Harnessing Nature’s Narratives” at 8:30 (which for west coast time would be 5:30 for me). Though I have presented many iterations of this workshop using my father’s billion year old stones from Death Valley (with naturally occuring imagery), I was excited for this latest version of my presentation that would incorporate Jaimie Cloud’s mentorship that I was able to receive while participating in Burke’s Environmental Sustainability Curriculum Counsel. Much of my work had been intuitive and individually developed until that point, but the Cloud Institute’s mission to engage educators and inspire young people through professional learning has given my work a powerful foundation and ability to assess and measure my curriculum standards. But it was early on a Saturday morning - would anyone attend after the fun night before?
I was surprised and excited to find that my workshop filled up with educators. The room quickly ran out of chairs, stones and business cards! I had a feeling that the participants desperately wanted to be engaged, process all the information they had been learning at the conference and just connect to a piece of nature in the midst of that city hotel establishment. I was motivated to meet their demand!
With Jaimie’s permission I was able to share some of the Cloud Institute’s guiding principles which include 12 Enduring Understandings. Relevant to my work with Story Through Stone are that “A Healthy and Sustainable Future are Possible,” “We are all in this Together” and “Think 1,000 Years.” The “sustainablizing” mindset that Jaimie proposes, and that is inherent in Story Through Stone curriculums, combats directly the negative mental mindsets that prevent humankind from being sustainable. One such mental mindset is “The Bummer” - when people are so focused on the doom and gloom of facts, figures and news that they feel there is no hope in change or improvement in our environmental plight.
Environmental Educators could fairly feel such doom and gloom the week of this conference falling so shortly after the election. I asked the audience, “Who has felt a bit of a bummer lately?” Nearly all raised their hands.
And so we pivoted to the hands-on experience. Each educator was able to spend time deeply connecting with the billion year-old stone through a guided mindfulness practice and by drawing what they saw in the stone. They then wrote the seeds for stories and collaborated in small groups to form stories to share at the end of the workshop. With permission, I was able to record and share their stories.
The room reverberated with the buzz of conversation and passionate insights. The feeling in that room at the end of the workshop, along with feedback from participants, was like a healing balm against all the uncertainty and mourning I had felt going into the conference.
The conference ended and though it had just been a few days it had felt like a truly transformative and enriching journey. I returned the next Monday morning to work feeling inspired and motivated to re-enter this precious, fragile period where environmental education is more vital than ever.
Many, many thanks to Burke’s for funding and supporting this professional development!
