by Jeff Kagan
My son’s third grade class goes on occasional nature walks during the school day, which is one of the many reasons Paige and I chose this school for Wolf. This past week I decided to volunteer so that I could be a part of it and access my own history as an environmental educator out in the field with kids, watching them experience nature play and helping to create safe boundaries within that. I showed up at the school with Marty, the Norwegian troll, a relic from my days teaching at residential environmental education centers across the East Coast in my twenties. Marty was holding a blank blue canvas flag, and I brought along a few sharpies for the kids to add their marks to his flag.
When we arrived at the stream, the kids naturally split into playgroups. Some went to a nearby playground, but most headed straight for the stream. Without any prompting, they began creating bridges with fallen sticks to span the stream. In the midst of their play, I noticed a man, who appeared to be in his early twenties, quietly reading in the shade of the cottonwood trees. I thought, “This poor guy, seeking solitude, now has to contend with 20 screaming, excited third graders.” I expected he might pack up, but he continued reading in silence.
The kids’ bridges progressed beautifully. The upstream bridge allowed water to flow beneath it, while the downstream bridge featured giant handrails spanning the banks, providing railings for the kids’ crossings.
As I moved between the two bridges, I stopped next to the reading man and said, in my apologetic way, “I’m sorry, you have to be surrounded by a bunch of loud third graders.” He looked up at me, right in the eyes, and said, ” I’m a graduate student teaching assistant at CU, the University of Colorado. The unit I’m working on with my undergrad students is about how disconnected we are from each other due to social media and our attachment to devices. This is really amazing for me. I love seeing these kids connecting with each other in a real way.”
He went on to tell me that he had recently challenged his undergrad students to stay off their phones for a day, promising a mystery bonus as a reward. Not a single student managed to complete the challenge. I paused, struck by the significance of the moment. Here we were, helping kids connect with nature and each other, while this grad student observed the very essence of his study in action. I brought my son’s teacher over, and they had a nice chat, making a meaningful connection.
This experience made me reflect on the importance of school and the value of moments of free play, like recess. Bringing the kids to a stream with sticks, safe boundaries, and low water on a warm day was the perfect way to see them free-flow, be alive, human, and young. I hope, and I believe, that the grad student took something special away from this and perhaps shared it with his own students.
By the end of our nature walk, every single kid and grownup, including the grad student, had signed Marty the Troll’s blue canvas flag. Now, Marty sits above my front door, with the flag dangling over a little ledge. Every time I go in and out of my house, I’m reminded of the power of nature play.