Chattermarks

“Making your way in the world today takes everything you’ve got. Taking a break from all your worries sure would help a lot. Wouldn’t you like to get away? Sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your name! And they’re always glad you came! You want to go where you can see people are all the same. You want to go where everybody knows your name.” - Cheers’ Theme

The lyrics from that familiar childhood song ring true and clear to me these days, perhaps more so than they used to. Having recently moved to the North Cascades Institute’s Environmental Learning Center, I feel not only transported to a different place, but to a different time as well. Similar to the friends from Cheers who, at the end of each day, gathered on bar stools to clink mugs together and exchange stories, I look forward to seeing familiar, friendly faces around the kitchenette table, sipping tea or coffee and swapping light-hearted tales of the day. And yes, up here, everybody knows my name. And I, theirs.

It might be hard to imagine within the context of today’s constantly connected and communicating world, but picture a small, remote community consisting of twenty-five people. Tucked up in a beautiful corner of the world, this community is surrounded with towering snow-capped mountain peaks, glacial fed lakes and rivers, and trails greener than any you have ever seen. This community lives together: at least one hour from any fully equipped grocery store and two hours away from other “basic amenities” (a hospital, for example). This community works together: some days from seven o’clock in the morning until nine or ten at night – full days that usually require a special kind of energy and attentiveness for engaging with youth. This community plays together: at the end of a long week, down time affords opportunities to climb mountains, canoe across icy turquoise waters, and find hidden sit spots just off trail that allow for peaceful reflection on the brilliant, changing colors of our vine maples. This community doesn’t have cell phones (at least not ones that get reception). And most importantly, this community comes together as a group of individuals, often separated from families and partners by great distance. This community is home away from home. This community is a family – my family. This community is the North Cascades Institute.

Part of the ELC family enjoys dinner together. Photo by Katie Tozier.

» Continue reading Finding Community in the North Cascades

It’s the second day of Mountain School and our group, the Flying Squirrels, sits spread out along the Sourdough Creek Trail at the Environmental Learning Center with journals and pencils in hand. The forest is seemingly quiet, Fawn Creek tumbles softly along its path in the background and the occasional douglas squirrel rouses student attention with his yapping alert call. Angelyna is writing tirelessly, attempting to take in all that she’s seeing around her. Ben has his head to the sky, perhaps noticing the wind playing up in the tops of the giant western red cedars. I notice Maxim with his face right up to a lichen, alternating between intense moments of observation and quick strokes of the pencil as he sketches in his journal. The first notes of my wolf howl to round up the students are immediately echoed by nine voices, and promptly followed by nine pairs of feet padding up the trail. “What have you been wondering about?” I ask.

Developing sensory awareness and the desire to observe and learn from the natural world are critical components to the Mountain School experience. Sit spots, like the ones that the Flying Squirrels were practicing, are opportunities for students to be still for a few quiet moments in the woods, engaging all of their senses while taking note of what is going on in the world immediately around them.

» Continue reading Sitting with Nature

Mountain School has ended for me, but this recent spring session changed my life as an educator. I have become more convinced that I am pursuing the right career and that my teaching techniques have had meaningful impacts in my students’ lives. It is embarrassing for me to speak so candidly and arrogantly, but the parent chaperones have told me I am doing good work. I know this is true because in two successive weeks I choked up at home while journaling. Though I write this article more than two months later, I still feel the emotions welling inside me as I recall specific moments that impacted me earlier in the season.

I blame one student who eloquently spoke about how he feels empowered to change the world. I fault another whose sheer smile in her own accomplishments makes me tear up every time I am reminded of her voice.

International School (grades six to twelve) sent seventh, eighth and ninth graders from Bellevue to spend a whole week with us at Mountain School. Co-teacher Codi Hamblin and I delivered our Carnivore Curriculum, which capitalizes on the scientific method and provides an opportunity for students to experience data collection near campus. We guided students to actively set up an experiment that analyzes possible carnivore habitat.

» Continue reading A Greater Impact, What Teaching has Taught Me

A group poem written by the 4th graders of Lummi Nation School, based on an Ute Prayer. The poem was drawn from inspiration during students’ time at Mountain School.

Earth Teach Me

Earth teach me love…as the two ducks swimming in the pond together.

Earth teach me to be happy…like the animals in nature are happy.

Earth teach me hope…as the eagle waiting for dinner.

Earth teach me to care…as the bear takes care of her babies.

Earth teach me courage…like the snake slithers through the forest.

Earth teach me freedom…while the eagle is soaring through the sky.

Earth teach me magic…like the jaguar in camouflage hiding in the tall grass.

Earth teach me how to be quiet…so the deer can come out of the bushes.

Earth teach me friendship…like the deer share the grass to the earth.

Earth teach me honesty…as a red tail hawk flying up in the air.

Earth teach me courage…as a salmon jumping up the river so he could get home.

Earth teach me learning…as the cougar which knows how to hunt to survive.

Why is it that kids, and adults, truth be told, love throwing rocks? Nearly every Mountain School student spends some time learning and exploring along the shores of Diablo Lake. And without fail (for my trail groups at least) the first question we hear as soon as we get to the shore is, “Can we throw rocks?”  Although our packed schedule usually only allows for 5-10 minutes of rock throwing, I’m fairly certain my students would happily spend the entire afternoon engaged in this timeless pursuit. Thrown, plopped or skipped, every student becomes engrossed in this activity.

One lovely, sunny afternoon, as I sat below Sourdough Creek Falls and watched my students gradually start tossing rocks across the creek after lunch, I couldn’t help but wonder, what is it about throwing rocks that is so captivating? Is it the sound? The splash? The hunt of finding the perfect skipping rock? Or the challenge of successfully hitting a target?

Mountain School students see how far they can skip rocks across the lake. Photo courtesy of Glenda Runge

» Continue reading Rockity Rock Rock