A Better Thing
I made a comment at last night's meeting (see previous post) which I will reference here and elaborate on. I didn't write it down, so I can't repeat exactly what I said, but my thoughts ran along these lines:
Two things that are important to me [in the school site selection process] are land use and children having access to a rich natural environment.
Our community needs places that are highly visible, in high traffic areas, which can be developed as commercial property. We also need fertile, tillable land. Neither of those characteristics are particularly important, however, for a school site.
When children attend school away from home between the ages of 6 and 18, they spend roughly half of their waking hours at school. Studies have shown that children are happier and learn better when they have abundant opportunities to interact with a rich natural environment. Providing such an environment for our children at school is a gift we can offer them.
What I didn't say, but what everyone there knew, is that the Pleasantview site is on ideal farmland, in a location that is also ideal as a commercial location. The Pleasantview site is also relatively devoid of readily accessible natural areas, being extensively developed in all directions except south, where there is a tilled field. The Mast site on Partridge Road is not currently in production except as grassland, and it is in a much less ideal commercial location. With a compliant landowner on the rest of the 80-acre tract (and I believe that is the case), theoretically the whole area could serve as a ready-made outdoor learning lab and recreation area, without doing damage to the area or re-purposing its current use. Some trees are present, especially along the fence row, in addition to the predominant vegetation, grasses.
For me, land use is an important stewardship issue. Way back when we bought our Trail West place in 1984, I remember my cousin Mike commenting that he likes to see people utilizing existing home sites, rather than seeing agricultural land being taken out of production for use as a home site. True, that place contained only old buildings, but it made a good home for us.
Since then I've come to see appropriate land use is an important consideration in building thriving communities. We wince at government regulations that apply to land use, and, to be sure, sometimes they seem laughably ridiculous. We must never laugh, however, at the high standards of conduct that our commitment to Christian stewardship calls us to. If the matter of land use can't fit under the umbrella of things that we consider mindfully in our living out our faith principles, we need a bigger umbrella.
I don't mean to say that altering land for human use is always poor stewardship. Not at all. On the contrary, I believe that many times human intervention can maximize the usefulness and productivity of land in a way that would be impossible if it were simply left to itself. I mean simply that waste is a stewardship problem when it spoils land for what could have been a better use of it--for the long-term health of the community.
The other matter--providing children with a rich natural environment--is sometimes difficult for me to talk about. I feel so very deeply about this, and have felt so poorly understood or misunderstood and even been maligned at times when I have tried to talk of it in the past, that I can hardly muster the courage or hope to do so again. I have never talked to a single person in our churches or schools who has looked into this, as far as I know, but it's there, hiding in plain sight.
Here I go . . . (I should probably forego detailing the Biblical imagery that comes to mind--of lambs and dogs and lions.)
The research is simply indisputable. Children deprived of contact with nature always suffer. They may not know they're suffering because they've never known anything else. They hardly ever know how to articulate what they're missing. But they will surely experience the results of the deficiency. Dread, sadness, depression, fearfulness, and lethargy can result. Other possible manifestations are at the opposite end of the spectrum: hyperactivity, tension, anger, and hostility. I've "seen" them all, and I believe the adults in such children's lives are remiss if they do not recognize this and do what is in their power to do to alleviate it.
My personal inclinations affirm all that I've read on this matter. I do recognize that not everyone will view this with the same passion I do. In Howard Gardner's multiple intelligences categorizations, I've come to understand that I fit into the "nature-smart" category, as opposed to music-smart or body-smart or people-smart or any other kind of "smart" category. This really is part of who I am. I can't not notice what is present in nature. I see plant "friends" everywhere--along the roadsides, in yards and gardens, and at the garden center. I see bird friends everywhere too--perched on the power lines, flying up from the roadsides, singing from the tree by the garden, and cavorting at the feeders. I love watching the sky during the day and night. Most children start out life like this, seeing the whole natural world as endlessly fascinating. With the right opportunities, the wonder never leaves, and life is immeasurably richer for it.
What usually happens, however, is that the wonder in nature is systematically stifled by isolation from it. What replaces it is not nearly so captivating--lessons at a desk, play on a diamond or in a gym, being riveted to a screen. But it's often the best we or the children can think to do. I propose replacing some of the above activities with random or purposeful, structured or open-ended periods of outdoor play in an undeveloped landscape. It's so much more than walking through the grass or digging in the dirt, although those can be part of the picture. It is noticing and celebrating and thanking God who made what is there. It may be nurturing or tending or protecting it. Ready access is essential for realizing this ideal. I can already see the smiles and eagerness on the faces of children so favored.
My observations also affirm what I've read on the benefits of having plenty of time to interact with nature. Such children have bright eyes and usually good health, they become proficient at a variety of tasks, they seem mature for their age--in the sense that they accept responsibility confidently and relate appropriately to people of a variety of ages. They are minimally silly, and typically unpreoccupied with trivia like the drama of the lives of entertainers and sports figures. They learn eagerly. Sitting at a desk after such soul-satisfying play is not torture because the mind and body have been properly prepared. These "broad stroke" descriptions could be nuanced further, of course.
When I was in the upper elementary grades, our boys' basketball team was very good. You'll have to ask one of them for the details--Oren or Gary could certainly fill you in. David or LaVerne or Nevin, who live here, or Leon or LaVern or Phil, who now live out of state could no doubt also recite many more particulars than I can recall. Uncle Perry (A.K.A. known as Mr. Miller) was the coach. Mind you, he had never played this game himself, due to his handicap from polio. Neither did he have a background in watching others play competitively. But that team was still very good--champions, in fact. Perry used to say that he thought it was because the boys knew how to work. They got up early and did chores before school--including his own son, who did not live on a farm, but helped milk goats and take care of chickens, and who worked for his uncle on the farm during the summer.
I propose that "our boys" were good partly because those chores put them in regular contact with the natural world, and it gave them confidence and motivation and strength. Their only practice time was during regular recess time--never after school. Our class was also strong academically, lest I convey the idea that all we thought about or were good at was basketball. I can't help but notice that the life most of the boys in my class experienced is very different from the life many students experience now. How many students do you know who do outdoor chores before school? I don't know all the details of our students' lives, but I venture a guess that very few students do outdoor chores before school. Tell me if I'm wrong.
How often have you seen someone with a farm background "making good," to the surprise of people who think of such a life as being slightly deprived? Their success is undoubtedly due to a combination of factors, but I firmly believe that contact with nature is an important one.
All I ask is that adults educate themselves on the matter of childhood interactions with nature by reading what they can (or at least taking the word of those who have studied it), remembering the wonder in their own childhood, observing what is happening now, and acting in the best interests of all children when it is in their power to do so. Oh, and talk about it to others.
On a related matter, last night's discussion concerning the ball diamond left me wondering if we are not majoring in minors on that subject--exact number of feet necessary in the outfield, distance walked to the playing field, through the blue line or via an installed culvert, slope of the field, etc. All this would be less critical if we had not already become very dependent on this as a recess time activity--maybe even more so in the minds of adults who remember their own prowess fondly as school children than in the minds of our current school children. I propose that we have become dependent on softball because we have typically had fairly sterile school environments in the past, and there weren't many other options. In the presence of other appealing options, I suspect that students could take or leave softball and regard it simply as one of several possible playtime options. That would be healthy, in my opinion, and I believe the process has already begun. I hope adults do not circumvent the process.
Softball probably happens more frequently at the grade school than at the high school, where we play only several times a year--because at the high school there is a building where basketball can be played. Much of the above would apply to basketball also--and, at our school, it doesn't even have the virtue of being played in the fresh air and sunshine. Bottom line? I believe both the gym and the softball field, while a convenience and sometimes a pleasure, ought not to be unduly emphasized in our planning. Sports are not the main thing or the best thing about school. They are what people do when there is nothing better to do. Interacting with nature is a better thing.
Two things that are important to me [in the school site selection process] are land use and children having access to a rich natural environment.
Our community needs places that are highly visible, in high traffic areas, which can be developed as commercial property. We also need fertile, tillable land. Neither of those characteristics are particularly important, however, for a school site.
When children attend school away from home between the ages of 6 and 18, they spend roughly half of their waking hours at school. Studies have shown that children are happier and learn better when they have abundant opportunities to interact with a rich natural environment. Providing such an environment for our children at school is a gift we can offer them.
What I didn't say, but what everyone there knew, is that the Pleasantview site is on ideal farmland, in a location that is also ideal as a commercial location. The Pleasantview site is also relatively devoid of readily accessible natural areas, being extensively developed in all directions except south, where there is a tilled field. The Mast site on Partridge Road is not currently in production except as grassland, and it is in a much less ideal commercial location. With a compliant landowner on the rest of the 80-acre tract (and I believe that is the case), theoretically the whole area could serve as a ready-made outdoor learning lab and recreation area, without doing damage to the area or re-purposing its current use. Some trees are present, especially along the fence row, in addition to the predominant vegetation, grasses.
For me, land use is an important stewardship issue. Way back when we bought our Trail West place in 1984, I remember my cousin Mike commenting that he likes to see people utilizing existing home sites, rather than seeing agricultural land being taken out of production for use as a home site. True, that place contained only old buildings, but it made a good home for us.
Since then I've come to see appropriate land use is an important consideration in building thriving communities. We wince at government regulations that apply to land use, and, to be sure, sometimes they seem laughably ridiculous. We must never laugh, however, at the high standards of conduct that our commitment to Christian stewardship calls us to. If the matter of land use can't fit under the umbrella of things that we consider mindfully in our living out our faith principles, we need a bigger umbrella.
I don't mean to say that altering land for human use is always poor stewardship. Not at all. On the contrary, I believe that many times human intervention can maximize the usefulness and productivity of land in a way that would be impossible if it were simply left to itself. I mean simply that waste is a stewardship problem when it spoils land for what could have been a better use of it--for the long-term health of the community.
The other matter--providing children with a rich natural environment--is sometimes difficult for me to talk about. I feel so very deeply about this, and have felt so poorly understood or misunderstood and even been maligned at times when I have tried to talk of it in the past, that I can hardly muster the courage or hope to do so again. I have never talked to a single person in our churches or schools who has looked into this, as far as I know, but it's there, hiding in plain sight.
Here I go . . . (I should probably forego detailing the Biblical imagery that comes to mind--of lambs and dogs and lions.)
The research is simply indisputable. Children deprived of contact with nature always suffer. They may not know they're suffering because they've never known anything else. They hardly ever know how to articulate what they're missing. But they will surely experience the results of the deficiency. Dread, sadness, depression, fearfulness, and lethargy can result. Other possible manifestations are at the opposite end of the spectrum: hyperactivity, tension, anger, and hostility. I've "seen" them all, and I believe the adults in such children's lives are remiss if they do not recognize this and do what is in their power to do to alleviate it.
My personal inclinations affirm all that I've read on this matter. I do recognize that not everyone will view this with the same passion I do. In Howard Gardner's multiple intelligences categorizations, I've come to understand that I fit into the "nature-smart" category, as opposed to music-smart or body-smart or people-smart or any other kind of "smart" category. This really is part of who I am. I can't not notice what is present in nature. I see plant "friends" everywhere--along the roadsides, in yards and gardens, and at the garden center. I see bird friends everywhere too--perched on the power lines, flying up from the roadsides, singing from the tree by the garden, and cavorting at the feeders. I love watching the sky during the day and night. Most children start out life like this, seeing the whole natural world as endlessly fascinating. With the right opportunities, the wonder never leaves, and life is immeasurably richer for it.
What usually happens, however, is that the wonder in nature is systematically stifled by isolation from it. What replaces it is not nearly so captivating--lessons at a desk, play on a diamond or in a gym, being riveted to a screen. But it's often the best we or the children can think to do. I propose replacing some of the above activities with random or purposeful, structured or open-ended periods of outdoor play in an undeveloped landscape. It's so much more than walking through the grass or digging in the dirt, although those can be part of the picture. It is noticing and celebrating and thanking God who made what is there. It may be nurturing or tending or protecting it. Ready access is essential for realizing this ideal. I can already see the smiles and eagerness on the faces of children so favored.
My observations also affirm what I've read on the benefits of having plenty of time to interact with nature. Such children have bright eyes and usually good health, they become proficient at a variety of tasks, they seem mature for their age--in the sense that they accept responsibility confidently and relate appropriately to people of a variety of ages. They are minimally silly, and typically unpreoccupied with trivia like the drama of the lives of entertainers and sports figures. They learn eagerly. Sitting at a desk after such soul-satisfying play is not torture because the mind and body have been properly prepared. These "broad stroke" descriptions could be nuanced further, of course.
When I was in the upper elementary grades, our boys' basketball team was very good. You'll have to ask one of them for the details--Oren or Gary could certainly fill you in. David or LaVerne or Nevin, who live here, or Leon or LaVern or Phil, who now live out of state could no doubt also recite many more particulars than I can recall. Uncle Perry (A.K.A. known as Mr. Miller) was the coach. Mind you, he had never played this game himself, due to his handicap from polio. Neither did he have a background in watching others play competitively. But that team was still very good--champions, in fact. Perry used to say that he thought it was because the boys knew how to work. They got up early and did chores before school--including his own son, who did not live on a farm, but helped milk goats and take care of chickens, and who worked for his uncle on the farm during the summer.
I propose that "our boys" were good partly because those chores put them in regular contact with the natural world, and it gave them confidence and motivation and strength. Their only practice time was during regular recess time--never after school. Our class was also strong academically, lest I convey the idea that all we thought about or were good at was basketball. I can't help but notice that the life most of the boys in my class experienced is very different from the life many students experience now. How many students do you know who do outdoor chores before school? I don't know all the details of our students' lives, but I venture a guess that very few students do outdoor chores before school. Tell me if I'm wrong.
How often have you seen someone with a farm background "making good," to the surprise of people who think of such a life as being slightly deprived? Their success is undoubtedly due to a combination of factors, but I firmly believe that contact with nature is an important one.
All I ask is that adults educate themselves on the matter of childhood interactions with nature by reading what they can (or at least taking the word of those who have studied it), remembering the wonder in their own childhood, observing what is happening now, and acting in the best interests of all children when it is in their power to do so. Oh, and talk about it to others.
On a related matter, last night's discussion concerning the ball diamond left me wondering if we are not majoring in minors on that subject--exact number of feet necessary in the outfield, distance walked to the playing field, through the blue line or via an installed culvert, slope of the field, etc. All this would be less critical if we had not already become very dependent on this as a recess time activity--maybe even more so in the minds of adults who remember their own prowess fondly as school children than in the minds of our current school children. I propose that we have become dependent on softball because we have typically had fairly sterile school environments in the past, and there weren't many other options. In the presence of other appealing options, I suspect that students could take or leave softball and regard it simply as one of several possible playtime options. That would be healthy, in my opinion, and I believe the process has already begun. I hope adults do not circumvent the process.
Softball probably happens more frequently at the grade school than at the high school, where we play only several times a year--because at the high school there is a building where basketball can be played. Much of the above would apply to basketball also--and, at our school, it doesn't even have the virtue of being played in the fresh air and sunshine. Bottom line? I believe both the gym and the softball field, while a convenience and sometimes a pleasure, ought not to be unduly emphasized in our planning. Sports are not the main thing or the best thing about school. They are what people do when there is nothing better to do. Interacting with nature is a better thing.
posted by Mrs. I (Miriam Iwashige) at
11:06 AM
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