Considering Nature-Deficity Syndrome for Our Students

In Maine, there is a group of 4th graders who love technology do regular podcasts.  And also walk around looking at sheep and the ocean.  It is in my mind the perfect blend of nature/technology given the need to also 'just do school', too.  Through most of my teaching career, I regularly coached and ran experiential education programs that took my creative writing classes into the woods, while also running a college prep curriculum.  I didn't have the faintest idea of what technology (blogging, etc.) could really mean, but I did realize the innate need to combine the intellect/school with nature/play/exploration.

Recently while reading Edutopia, I came across Milton Chen's editorial exploration of nature-deficit disorder in our students' lives.  He writes:

This summer, I read one of the most provocative books on education I've seen in a long time, Last Child in the Woods: Saving Our Children from Nature-Deficit Disorder, by Richard Louv. In the book, Louv writes, "Our society is teaching young people to avoid direct experience in nature" by reducing open space, physical education, and field trips. He laments that electronic media are consuming an increasing portion of children's lives. He even points to zoning ordinances that prohibit tree houses. Louv adds that he believes "reducing that deficit -- healing the broken bond between our young and nature -- is in our self-interest . . . because our mental, physical, and spiritual health depends upon it."

The last school that I taught at had few opportunities for kids to be outside.  The # of security measures to get in and out of the building made that nearly impossible.  Fresh air was saved for 'after school'.  Chen spoke to a similar vein on a larger societal level:

Years ago, a San Francisco educator told me a startling fact: There are children who live in that seven-square-mile city bordering the Pacific Ocean who have never seen it. Teachers tell me that some high school students have never put their hands in soil and have never grown a plant. It's very disturbing how small the worlds of many children are -- and that their parents, caregivers, and teachers have not taken them to nearby places of interest.

Whether due to our reliance on technology rather than getting kids to dig in the dirt or explore a natural landscape, or because safety and schedule forbids such exploration, we may be doing much damage control in the future if we don't figure out how to re-gain this intellectual/nature balance.

Comments

[Artichoke]

There is not a flower or bird in sight, only a small screen on which lines are moving, while the child sits almost motionless, pushing at the keyboard with one finger. As a learning environment, it may be mentally rich, but it is perceptually extremely impoverished. No smells or tastes, no wind or bird song (unless the computer is programmed to produce electronic tweets), no connection with soil, water, sunlight, warmth, the actual learning environment is almost autistic in quality, impoverished sensually, emotionally, and socially.
John Davy

[Christian]

John,

Yes, the potential of impoverishment if we stay hooked to the digital line is very real. Ultimately, I think, it's not a matter of one over the other. It is a blending of all resources, of tapping into everything that draws a kids attention and heartbeat. Minus the smell of grass, the sensation of digging into mud, the joy of climbing trees, embracing the feel of the wind...computers lack much. I'm just trying to figure out how to bring it all together. Any ideas -- if you have them -- would be greatly appreciated!

Enjoyed discovering your work. Look forward to adding it to my daily read!

Cheers, Christian

[Diana]

I think there are incredibly powerful ways in which to have the power of nature interact with the power of the 'technological world'. For example, I took some students on a river trip last year. In meeting the requirements of the trip, the students had to come up with a lesson to teach on the river about the geology and history of the area. To prepare for this we used GIS mapping, the web for research, Google Earth to 'fly' the parents down the river... on the river students took GPS points and pictures which we then linked(using flickr) into a Google Earth file when we got back. Also, we produced a 'movie' of the trip using all of the photos that students, teachers and river guides snapped along the way... with a few sparse pieces of video here and there. The students that went on this trip enjoyed being unplugged for the trip, but when they returned the story that they were able to tell using the digital tools at their fingertips has taken their experience to many more people. There are other things that we could have done... this is just what we came up with at the time...

The thing is that students weren't sure about sleeping outside, weren't sure about floating 'big water' and weren't sure about not showering for four days... but through the digital tools they were able to connect with the place before we ventured there and after they were able to reassure others that the next time there was an opportunity like this, they should take it. The story is the same as when I was a kid, but the ability to share the story in an engaging and meaningful way with students has become much more powerful.

[Christian]

Diana - Having taken trips like the one you described, minus the technology and 'digital storytelling' tools we have now, I can nod my head in full agreement with your reflections! What the students did -- begin able to keep the parents abreast of the entire trip -- is what makes learning both individually and collectively powerful. You are to be commended, as are your students! Cheers...and bring me next time you float the river! Cheers, Christian