As a student, each of my Environmental Education teachers assumed we had already read “Last Child in the Woods” by Richard Louv. It was so core to Environmental Education, it must have been covered in another course, right? It wasn’t until April 2021, more than 10 years since becoming a student in Environmental Education, that I finally read this sacred text.

Except…it isn’t sacred. There are some problematic views in this book. If we do not address these issues, we will not be able to fully achieve our goal; show kids how to learn from the land. Below are the three points we need to address in Environmental Education if we are to fully educate the next generation of life-long learners.

As much as I am a technological optimist, one of the worst things it has done has disconnected us from the natural world. Not because technology is inherently ‘anti-nature,’ but because we have not taken the steps to consider the side effects when using technology. One of the simplest examples of this is light pollution;

This is one of my favorite pictures of my father. Last week while my family was in Florida Dad asked me if I wanted to go and see the animals he saw earlier that day. Being that I love exploring ecoregions with my dad, we stepped outside to the local pond.

We saw at least a half dozen types of birds (including egrets), fish, and mammals. But in the pond, my father told me, was a red eared-slider turtle that got close to him earlier that day. We went to the same location and within a minute this little turtle came up real close.

I hated being outside growing up. All I wanted to do was sit on the couch and watch Dragon Ball Z and play Super Smash Brothers Melee. But even my childhood self, who had great opposition to the outdoors, still holds the places I grew up near and dear to my heart.

I remember waking up every morning seeing the ridge line. I remember the trees in the back yard where I would run under when it was too hot. I remember walking out on Mammoth Lake when it was frozen with my dad and sister.

The more I age, the more I realize how generous my parents were (and still are) by raising me. One of the ways their generosity shinned was through every night, sitting down for supper. Even though I was an extremely picky eater, Mom would always make sure there was food on the table that I could eat. I didn't even have to think or worry about how food was getting to the table.

Now that I'm living on my own I eat the majority of my meals alone. While this is not always positive, one of the things I really enjoy is experimenting with food. I'm now able to see what kind of food I get day in, and day out.

Over my years of teaching about the environment, I have been fortunate to meet so many different people; from a farmer from Maine who is the best skier I know to the leading expert on native bees in Washington. With many of them I have also had long philosophical talks (usually with a drink or two). The book Dwelling With the Land: Cultivating an Ontological Ethos  feels like the book form of those late night conversions.

Tim Bock is a dear friend of mine from working at Lutherlyn. Currently he lives near Grove City with his wife, dog, and a plot of land. By just taking a walk through his back yard, you can get a feeling for his core philosophy. Yes there are sections that he has plowed the land for farming. But he has also set aside a large part of it for the organisms to shape it as they see fit. Tim gives the best summary of his book on page 3:

At Allegheny College I took one art class: Drawing 101. I really dislike saying "I can't draw" but I was definitely one of the worst in this class. One of the phrases that stuck with me from my professor was "draw what you actually see, not what you want to see." When you actually start to see what is around, instead of what you think you see, the trees never are one-large-straight-trunk but rather a twisting formation of bark and branches. The Cloudspotter's Guide by Gavin Pretor-Pinney got me to appreciate clouds for what they are, instead of how I imagine them to be.