by editor | Nov 11, 2025 | Critical Thinking, Environmental Literacy, Experiential Learning, Gardening, Farming, Food, & Permaculture, Indigenous Peoples & Traditional Ecological Knowledge
Dr. David Zandvliet, Ph.D.,
Simon Fraser University
Professor and UNESCO Chair
Chantal Martin
Director, Education & Research
Vancouver Botanical Gardens Association
Poh Tan PhD (UBC, Exp. Medicine), PhD (SFU, Education)
Scientist, Researcher, Educator, Author, Entrepreneur
Research Associate, Institute for Environmental Learning
Founder and CEO, STEMedge Academy
Photos by Tina Chin
Prologue
I was filled with excitement upon first hearing that the Vancouver Botanical Gardens Association would be working with the Institute for Environmental Learning to form a new fellowship opportunity at VanDusen Botanical Gardens and Bloedel Conservatory. It also came with many questions focused on how participatory action research would work between a team of passionate environmental educators and academic fellows, each with their own goals and desired outcomes. Five years later, as Director of Education and Research, I have firsthand observed the evolution of a wonderful partnership between academia and community through the fellowship program, and the far-reaching impacts I could have never predicted.
Introduction
Th
e context for this research program is the Vancouver Botanical Gardens Association (or VBGA) a non-profit organization that promotes biodiversity and connections to plants through education in botanical gardens among its many other conservation related functions. With the establishment of the VBGA fellowship program, VanDusen Botanical Gardens and the Bloedel Conservatory (located in Vancouver, Canada) have become important sites for research on the potential for botanical gardens as diverse and inclusive learning environments. For the past few years, a number of graduate fellowships have been enacted by the Institute for Environmental Learning (or IEL) undertaking a program of participatory action research in these urban botanical gardens. In our research, we use a lens of biocultural diversity to frame our work. Put simply, this idea suggests that the diversity of life is made up of the diversity of plants, animals, habitats and ecosystems, but also of the diversity of human cultures and languages
As joint operating partners of VanDusen Botanical Garden and Bloedel Conservatory alongside the Vancouver Board of Parks and Recreation, the VBGA is a charitable not-for-profit responsible for; education and research, a botanical library, volunteer programs, and fundraising all which supports Garden and Conservatory programs, services, and conservation. The VBGA has a mission to engage people of all ages and walks of life in the importance of biodiversity to our lives, and to foster a lifelong love of plants and gardens by virtue of their participation in our programs and services. Our educational offerings include adult, youth, and family programing, community outreach, and teacher professional development. The VBGA education team is intentional and thoughtful to ensure that our programs are accessible, high quality and have short-term and long-term impacts that fulfill the VBGA’s mission. This is where the research fellows conducting participatory action research (PAR) have helped us flourish.

VBGA Preschool Wonder Walk.
The idea of creating a research program centered on environmental learning activities in (and around) botanical gardens, is a relatively recent phenomenon. This research responds to an educational condition that many botanists refer to as ‘plant blindness’ though recently some scholars have rejected this term as negative preferring the term ‘plant awareness disparity’ for this phenomenon. However termed, plant blindness refers to the largely overlooked idea that plants are essential for human survival. As an example of this line of research in botanical gardens, we examine Sellman and Bogner’s research which evaluated an education program in a European garden, studying the impact of learning on high school students’ (cognitive) achievement. This study demonstrated the potential of urban gardens as an effective learning environment in that it was shown to complement formal school-based learning settings: adding richness to classroom activities both before and after the garden experiences. However, studies like these typically evaluate only a short visitation to one garden and do not describe in detail the context or types of pedagogies utilized . Further, they do not consider implications for longer term, immersive programming in botanical gardens, or the potential for catering to the educational needs of teacher-educators or other types of adult learners.
We sought out answers to our burning questions, the types of questions and answers which fuel our fire as informal environmental educators in a botanical garden. The types of questions that research fellows have the expertise / knowledge to find answers to … the questions that can be answered collaboratively by academics and community organizations exploring STEM education together in a garden.
- How do life experiences / worldviews inform the practice of educators working at a botanical garden?
- How do we cultivate a culture of care for nature / community belonging when delivering our programs?
- How (can we inspire a) long-lasting connection to plants through various pedagogies (or strategies)?
Michael Bonnett’s philosophical stance asserts that responsibility for learners’ incomplete understanding of environmental issues stems from a “technologizing of education” that emphasizes abstract ideas over social processes.
He advocates for a change in teaching and learning environments, where the subject matter is shifted away from standardized material to broader curricula based on creativity, intuition, and values. Others argue further that, what is needed is a focus on interpersonal and community factors that reflect value, fairness, respect, and collaboration . This indicates the importance of continuing to study and do research on community programming in botanical gardens – whether this is offered at the individual or community level.
Similar to the informal context of botanical gardens, zoos and aquaria too have begun shifting their educational focus to some of the unique attributes of their informal learning environments: taking a new role in promoting wildlife conservation and conservation learning among visitors as informal environmental education. Research in these types of settings providing insights into the potential impact of such encounters on visitors’ conservation attitudes and behaviour.
Still, research of this type describing the potential use of botanical gardens for either formal or informal environmental education practices remains relatively undescribed and under-theorized.
In the face of climate crisis and loss of biodiversity, connecting people to plants through education is crucial. I am known to share that I believe you can teach any concept in nature including science, technology, engineering and math. Formal educators often respond with a challenge, “prove you can teach about fractions, or aerodynamics, or architecture with plants” they say. “How about counting the number of pomegranate seeds per fleshy fruit quadrant, or how about testing out the floating power of various maple seeds, or how about learning about biomimicry such as lotus effect treatment for metal to prevent corrosion?” I might reply.
Following my time working with the VBGA research fellows, my answer would now also include “How about teaching environmental STEM concepts through ethnobotany, storytelling, and incorporating biocultural diversity.” PAR has provided academic resources to our organization that contribute to achieving a sustainable future, including new and innovative ways of thinking and sharing STEM concepts. PAR empowers organizations such as botanical gardens, community members, and researchers to act as co-researchers, while contributing lived experience and knowledge to the research process.
Participatory Action Research
In our research, it is recognized that environmental learning processes should be described as both an art and a science. In this, environmental learning programs consider multiple models for teaching and learning, as well as teachers’ own pedagogical content knowledge that forms a unique blend of disciplinary knowledge combined with knowledge about specific learning contexts. For the VBGA fellowship program, the model we selected for our educational inquiry is community-based research that has been termed participatory action research or PAR.
Over the past thirty years or so, researchers have developed at least five different approaches to participatory action research (or PAR) including the following: (1) action research in organizations, (2) participatory research in community development, (3) action research in schools, (4) farmer participatory research, and (5) participatory evaluation.

Storytelling with Kung Jaadee.

Medicine Wheel Ceremony with Phil L’hirondelle.
From traditional Vietnamese storytelling, Hawaiian epistemology, bio-cultural diversity, youth perspectives, using non-anthropocentric approaches and language, and more, Participatory Action Research (PAR) was the creative glue that bonded our diverse perspectives together (in the research). During times of adversity such as the pandemic, PAR allowed the VBGA to continue to engage our community in innovative ways.
Through PAR we have robust community informed evaluations, which allow us to better meet the communities needs and provide high quality effective programming. Through PAR, we work on communicating STEM concepts in approach and language that explores harmonious co-existence of humans and non-humans. In the end, this fellowship has not only provided results, but also built our resiliency and capacity in providing programs for an ever-expanding community.
Conceptually, PAR originates from critical and neo-Marxist perspectives that have been raised in the social sciences over many years. This model stands in stark contrast to traditional approaches in educational research which sometimes is seen as maintaining hierarchical roles for researchers/subjects and teachers/students. PAR questions the unequal power relationships inherent in these traditional models and offers an approach to research that recognizes the inequalities in modern society.
Autoethnography as Method
As has likely become apparent in the presentation of this text, research conducted by the VBGA research fellows is shared in this work using a unique narrative structure and methodology known as autoethnography. In this research method, relevant personal life experiences of participants inform the design of the research program and the activities of the researcher (both as educators and academics). Now as in the past, these processes are continuing to unfold in the VBGA fellowship program and are deeply intertwined. In relating the practice of autoethnography, the research team uses methods in which: “researchers constitute their own object of research so that the knowing subject and the research object become one”. This inquiry also relates to the ‘lived experience’ of the research team as people and as academics, alongside other relationships. Each of these are described here as they relate to the research program and its relationship to other learning outcomes associated with VBGA programs.
Auto-ethnography has similarly been used to examine concepts of pedagogy, and place with environmental educators. Using similar methods, this research highlights research fellows’ experiences within and alongside educators working alongside the VBGA programs. In this, a reflexive process provides an entry point into how ‘place’ might be treated pedagogically in the programs. Narrative discourse is also used to share findings related to the on-going developments with the VBGA and its programming.
Notably, the use of autoethnography and narrative for research in education is increasing, although some researchers believe that its potential for theory and practice has not been fully explored. In this case, the research team used auto-ethnography to relate personal accounts of their experiences to generate key findings about the research program itself. For example, in one method, these data emerge from the interpretation of narrative texts using a technique known as structured vignette analysis.
Autoethnography can also be described as an approach to writing and research that describes and analyzes personal experience to clearly understand cultural experience. This approach challenges traditional forms of research and positions the research as a political and socially conscious act. As attempted here, researchers often use principles of autobiography and ethnography to do and write an autoethnography. Thus, as a method, autoethnography should be considered both a process and product.
A Collaborative Research Narrative
Importantly, auto-ethnography allows researchers to write in a personalized style, drawing on their experience to extend understanding about the social phenomenon under study. As a method, it is grounded in postmodern philosophy and is linked to growing debate about reflexivity and voice in research. The intent of this auto-ethnography is to acknowledge the link between the personal and cultural and make room for nontraditional inquiry and expression around the research program conducted with the VBGA.
Importantly, autoethnography (as a writing style) also borrows from autobiography in making its texts aesthetic by using techniques of ‘showing’, intended to bring readers ‘into the scene’ —particularly into thoughts, emotions, and actions of the author or researcher. In contrast, ‘telling’ is a strategy from ethnography that provides some distance from the events described, allowing for further analysis and/or interpretation. For the purposes of this research, the research fellows use both techniques to elucidate their meanings.
Collaborative autoethnography (or CAE) is a newer (and more social) version of auto-ethnography and is a technique we attempt to illustrate in this paper. CAE is unique in that it involves ‘researchers pooling their stories to find commonalities and differences and then negotiating meaning among these stories to discover deeper understanding of the stories in relation to the socio-cultural context under study in this case, the research and development is undertaken by our VBGA research fellows.

Student studying plants.
Some Projects Emerge
The VBGA runs a number of programs, for example it organizes guided tours and field trips for elementary and high school education, but also prepares and shares teaching kits, especially for elementary teachers, to be used at local schools. The purpose of the nature kits is to introduce students to (nearby) nature and the variety of local plants and species. The project that one of the research fellows (Shaila) undertook was aimed at developing a more holistic perspective with the kits by including Indigenous expressivism described by Deluze and Guttarian posthumanism, and ecofeminism as her guiding philosophies. The goal being to prepare the teaching kits to help young learners develop and nurture a non-anthropocentric philosophy with their learning. This lens enabled the program to adopt a decolonizing perspective toward education and nurture a holistic worldview through the use of non-anthropocentric language.
Congruent with our biocultural lens we understand that language, can shape our beliefs, views, perspectives, and practices. A traditional anthropocentric worldview can be seen as promoting a hierarchical relationship between humans and non-humans that we wanted to disrupt and challenge. For this project, the team developed four nature kits- spring, summer, fall and winter for elementary school students across BC for their science class. We designed activities and inquiry questions for the teachers. All the activities are in alignment with the respective grades’ course curriculum and goal. We further adopted an inquiry lens and incorporated questions and activities using language in a way that promotes Indigenous and holistic understanding of the natural world among the students.
Shaila’s story: Sense of place, belonging and finding connections with nature and relations through introspection and reflection
My journey with the VBGA and the Institute for Environmental Learning is fairly a new one. It started with an initial conversation with the lead researcher (David) and VBGA director (Chantal), and another research fellow (Poh) about building relationships between academic research and community. Their approach to share and mobilize environmental education with the community and not confining research only within academia resonated strongly with me. I was very fortunate to have received the opportunity to join the team as a research fellow and explore ways to forge my connection with the environment and education.
My work as the VBGA research fellow was inspired by a range of spiritualities, philosophies, values, beliefs, and practices from the Indigenous nations of Turtle Island, and from the east and the west about life and education. The key point being conceptualizing education holistically and as a life phenomenon, and not to segregate and confine education within the four walls of classrooms. With that understanding of education and my training in language studies, I aimed to explore how traditional teaching and learning materials promote human centred world views and knowledge, see humans as superior to nature, and how such concepts are embedded in human languages that subconsciously continue to promote anthropocentricism intertwined with the promotion of capitalism in a neoliberal economy. From an ecological perspective, deep environmental awareness and harmonious co-existence with nature is important for sustainable living. The awareness needs to be developed from an early age so that the next generation sees the connection between human and nature and learns to appreciate the value of co-existence for a sustainable future. Thus, the aim of my project was to develop teaching and learning materials for the VBGA that will facilitate young learners develop deep appreciation for the natural world, identify and understand the connections humans share with nature, develop respect for Indigenous holistic perspectives toward life, and lastly, disrupt the human centredness in the current knowledge production system. The goal of the project is well-aligned with British Columbia’s K-12 curriculum that emphasizes understanding Indigenous ways of making sense of the world and knowledge production.
My coming to the understanding of life, our relationship with nature, and holistic education is an ongoing journey that can be traced back to my early life experiences. I grew up in Dhaka, the capital city of Bangladesh at a time when globalization and capitalism had not hit it hard, and it was still a small city with ample greenery and close-knit neighbourhoods where everyone knew each other. I also had the opportunity to travel all over Bangladesh with my family and make frequent visits to my father’s village home where my extended family lives still today. I witnessed the relationship of people with their surrounding nature from an early age; but truth be told, I did not consider it something special back then. Or, it could be said that that was the way of life for people around me and it seemed so natural and normal. I realized the urge and the need to be mindful of our relationship with the environment and nature years later when I felt an alienation which existed in the urban society of Dhaka that grew to be a city of millions by then obliterating the age-old neighbourhoods, community living, and any greenery that was left from the natural environment.
Fast forward two decades, I came to British Columbia, Canada as an international student to pursue my graduate studies. This was the first time I realized the sense of place, physical nature, and what they mean to us. It is true that I did not know any humans here, but it was painful to realize that I was not familiar even with the trees and plants and the physical environment around me. I came to the realization that to grow connection with a place, we need not just human connection but more than that. It was at this point, with all my ideas about education, environment, growing roots in and connecting with a place mish mashed, I had this conversation about the participatory emerging research project with the VBGA and Institute for Environmental Learning at SFU and became a proud and grateful team member.
There were a few defining moments in my journey (to becoming) a VBGA research fellow. Some of them include our conversations about education, research, environment, some of them include my experiencing the garden and the richness it offers, and some of it includes my observation of VBGA’s education programs, all the while my experiences from Bangladesh were in the background. Being a doctoral student in education specializing in language studies, I was faced with the question about my contribution to the team. Upon having extensive discussions with the research team and VBGA’s education team, I thought we could develop educational resources for elementary students adopting a non-anthropocentric perspective and language.
Akiko’s story: A Journey of Growth through the Fellowship Experience
My first encounter with the fellowship was an interview with the lead investigator (David), and the Director of the VBGA (Chantal). During the interview, I was asked about my perspectives on biocultural diversity in Japan, knowing I had grown up there. His question transported me back over twenty years, to a life I had almost forgotten. One vivid memory surfaced: a conversation with my grandfather, a gardener by trade and a man of few words. He once shared a profound lesson with me: Japanese gardeners never shape trees merely to please the owners. Instead, they prioritize the health and natural beauty of each tree. This approach contrasts sharply with some Western gardening styles, where trees are often trimmed into neat, geometric shapes or even animal forms. My grandfather spoke with pride about the gardener’s role in understanding and enhancing the inherent beauty of nature, a philosophy that mirrored the broader Japanese ethos of respecting and coexisting with nature.
Reflecting on this memory after the interview, I realized how deeply it had influenced my views on biocultural diversity. The interview prompted me to think critically about this concept as a research theme and how it related to my personal experiences. After consulting with the research and education team, I decided to focus my fellowship project on evaluating the VBGA’s field trip programs. My background in program evaluations for non-profit organizations and local school boards, particularly for programs supporting refugee and immigrant families in Canada, provided a solid foundation for this task. Familiar with community-based program evaluations, I quickly devised a plan for the steps and data collection needed. As I delved deeper into the evaluation process, engaging with students, teachers, parent chaperones, and various VBGA staff, I began to realize that this fellowship offered far more than I had anticipated. I discovered multiple connections with the garden, immersing myself fully in the experience and the people involved.
The fellowship provided me with opportunities to explore my relationship with nature, biocultural diversity, and environmental education through various roles. Firstly, as a fellow conducting a program evaluation, I enjoyed gathering diverse perspectives on the field trips. The VBGA education team was passionate about providing hands-on learning experiences that complemented classroom education. Teachers valued the field trips despite the logistical and financial challenges, while parents and guardians appreciated the unique opportunities these trips offered their children. The children’s candid feedback, highlighting their joy in observing turtles and learning about trees and insects, was especially heartening.
While I conducted the evaluation as a researcher, I couldn’t ignore how my personal experiences and perspectives helped me understand each participant’s viewpoint. The students’ excitement reminded me of my daughter’s curiosity, the parents’ gratitude echoed my appreciation for nature as a mother, and the teachers’ dedication mirrored the commitment of educators like myself. These connections enriched the evaluation process and made it more meaningful. Beyond the formal project, the fellowship invited me to various enriching experiences. I participated in the VBGA volunteer appreciation day and assisted with Pollinator Days, an event educating visitors about pollinators and their environments. These events showcased how VanDusen’s programs foster biocultural diversity and create opportunities for people to connect through nature.
One of the most personal moments came when I visited the Sakura Days Japan Fair at VanDusen with my daughter, who was in grade three at that time, and our family friends. Sharing the tradition of Hanami, admiring the Sakura blossoms, while explaining its cultural significance, made me realize how much I wanted my daughter to experience this part of her heritage. This was especially precious as we cannot see Sakura in Japan unless we visit during a specific time of the year. Similarly, exploring Bloedel with her and using a new education kit (developed by Poh) allowed us to bond over shared discoveries and stories from different cultures.
These experiences profoundly enriched my fellowship. When analyzing the program evaluation data, I approached it objectively. However, my recommendations were deeply informed by my multifaceted perspectives as a fellow, an educator, and a mother. This holistic view enabled me to understand the participants more deeply and envision how the program could be enhanced to provide meaningful learning experiences, tailored to meet the diverse needs of schools and students. In conclusion, this fellowship was a journey of professional growth and personal discovery. It allowed me to reconnect with my cultural roots, understand the importance of biocultural diversity, and appreciate the intricate ways in which we relate to nature. The insights gained from this experience continue to influence my work and my life, making this journey truly unforgettable.
Poh’s story: Reflections of Malaysia and Vietnam, Hibiscus and Lotus
As I reflect on my most recent research, it’s hard not to feel a sense of awe at the twists and turns in my project, the people I met and collaborated with, and connections with the community that emerged and formed through mutual and authentic commitment to understanding and stewarding our planet. My name is Poh and I am the longest serving of the three VBGA/IEL research fellows. As this story is written, I have been part of the VBGA and Bloedel community for three years. My project is specifically focused on bringing accessible and technology enabled virtual learning experiences to Bloedel Conservatory for educators in the formal / non-formal teaching space to learn about tropical plants and how they play a role in understanding temperate plants in our environment. In my previous fellowship project, I helped plan, create and develop Bloedel’s first virtual field trip experiences. These experiences were created to address accessibility challenges for classroom access to the conservatory and more so, to have access to culturally relevant plant science activities. These experiences had a positive response from teachers, and so in my current fellowship, I focused on an expanded Bloedel experience that included pre-, during, and post- learning prompts for the students.

Poh teaching hula at Bloedel Conservatory
I have many memorable moments during the fellowship that either sparked my curiosity, tested what I thought I knew about certain topics, and engagement with teachers and students from a blended learning approach. There were moments where I brought in my experience with other learning communities like Science World (a local science museum), Hawaiian hula dance family (a group I co-teach and dance with), or my Malaysian-Nyonya heritage to bring together science, culture, Indigenous worldviews, and arts. I had the opportunity to work with a design student who also had a passion for citizen science, and together we designed an activity booklet specifically for Grade 3-5 students to experience Bloedel Conservatory in a more engaged way. My student, Hoang and I worked every week over summer, meeting multiple times at the Conservatory to observe different plants, to listen to the birds’ chirp, to feel the warm and humid air, and to touch the smooth trunk of the banana plant. Hoang and I created Bloedel Conservatory’s first curricular aligned activity booklet with the intention of extending a student’s learning before, during, and after their visit to the Conservatory. These experiences were built in an online platform called ArcGIS StoryMaps, a tool that I stumbled upon during my research studies, that has become a digital storytelling tool used for the Bloedel experiences.
Among the many plants to choose from in the conservatory, the banana plant has been a key plant of focus in the last virtual experiences because of its significance in both Hoang and my own culture. The banana plant and the banana are not only eaten as a treat, but its leaves are used as wraps for cooking, it’s flowers in curries, and the fibre from its trunk is used as rope. After one of our visits at Bloedel, Hoang and I sat down in the shade under a tree just outside of the conservatory to talk about creating an activity booklet for students. As our conversation progressed, we began to talk about the banana plant and similarly our families use the different parts in our culture. I shared a scary story my grandmother told me about the banana plant and this story reminded Hoang of a Vietnamese story about how the shape of bananas came to be. We spent that afternoon talking about the many similarities and differences between the Vietnamese and Malaysia culture.
Although our meetings were focused on the technical task of creating the virtual experience, we learned more about each other’s culture through stories told to us by our grandparents, parents, and community. We learned that even though our cultures are similar, there are significant differences because of historical impacts, environment, climate, and language. I learned that although Vietnam was geographically close to Malaysia, I knew very little about its history or its independence and rise from being a colonial state from France. I also learned that like Malaysia, Vietnam’s national flower is the lotus blossom because it symbolizes purity, elegance and strength. Malaysia’ national flower is the red hibiscus, called Bunga Raya in the local language (Bahasa Melayu), which symbolizes the courage and vitality of the people, and celebrated unity after gaining independence. Working with Hoang has been an eye-opening learning experience on how closely related and vastly different our cultures are. Our home countries are only separated by 680 kilometers of ocean between the two closets cities, but our culture, language, and practices evolved differently over time.
Analysis and Findings
As discussed earlier, collaborative autoethnography (or CAE) is a newer (and more social) version of autoethnography and is a technique we illustrate in this paper. CAE is unique in that it involves ‘researchers pooling their stories to find commonalities and differences and then negotiating meaning among these stories to discover deeper understanding of the stories in relation to the socio-cultural context under study. In this section, we as researchers (and fellows) analyse our experiences in a collaborative way drawing several themes from our work together. These emergent themes include evaluating and valuing experience, using scientific and cultural perspectives, and finally, seeing through a non-anthropocentric lens. Each of these are presented in narrative format (though shared in the passive voice) to emphasize that these findings were collaboratively derived. Each analysis originates from earlier narratives shared by VBGA research fellows.

Teaching plant dyes in VBGA Learning Garden.
‘Evaluating and Valuing’ the Fellowship Experience
Akiko, shares that while reflecting on her experience as a fellow, that facilitating participatory-action research on VBGA field trip programs marked an invaluable and pivotal juncture in her academic career. For her, the endeavour reinforced a commitment to collaborating with diverse local communities to enhance program evaluations aimed at improving lives through education. Typically, Akiko strives to maintain a neutral, third-party perspective in program evaluations to ensure unbiased analysis and equitable engagement with all stakeholders. However, in engaging with VBGA staff, volunteers, teachers, parents, children, and fellow researchers, she increasingly felt integrated into the community — developing a profound connection to diverse perspectives and a shared passion for making the field trip experience enriching and enjoyable for all participants.

Learning Garden Eco Dye Workshop.
Through interviews and conversations with community members, Akiko discerns that each individual harbours a unique relationship with nature, shaped by their distinct backgrounds and experiences. Her role evolved from that of an external evaluator to a community member, tasked with extracting their knowledge and experiences to provide insights on optimizing a community’s visits to the garden. Viewing the project through the lenses of her identities as a mother, immigrant, researcher, and educator, she resonates with the participants’ enthusiasm for nature education and their candid feedback on the field trip program. Unlike typical research endeavours focused solely on data collection, this participatory-action research aimed to enhance the field trip experience for the community. The participants’ willingness to share their observations and suggestions for program improvement is particularly enlightening.
During the fellowship, many parents, especially those with immigrant backgrounds, visited the garden for the first time with their children’s class, mirroring their children’s learning journey in a new country. After a visit to the garden, parents often engage in discussions about the field trip at home, which provides opportunities to share their childhood experiences with nature, akin to conversations Akiko has with her daughter after visits to the garden and the Bloedel Conservatory.
Throughout this process, she recognizes that her role within the community transcended mere research conduct; she is actively contributing to the participatory-action research’s objective of community improvement. This realization fosters a deeper level of engagement and self-reflection throughout the research process, as she attentively listens to participants’ contributions. It is inspiring to contemplate how we can extend our efforts to include those who have not yet visited the garden (due to various challenges) and to integrate their perspectives into future VBGA field trip programs.
Akiko summarizes that overall; her fellowship experience is profoundly fulfilling on both personal and professional levels. It facilitates a reconnection with nature amidst a busy life, prompting reflections on how to live harmoniously with the natural world. It also provides an opportunity to share the joy of being surrounded by nature with her daughter and to revisit childhood experiences with nature in Japan—experiences many children rarely have access to. Further, it enables her to connect with and learn from the participants in an evaluation study, while gaining insights into their collective wisdom and experiences through nature and environmental education. Ultimately, she learns that as a community, we provide the best for future generations by collectively preserving and enhancing our natural environment while supporting field trip programs that serve to facilitate children’s learning in nature.
Scientific and Cultural Perspectives on Plants
Poh shares that in the beginning of this fellowship, she tries starting her research from a structured and scientific methodical approach as she makes an attempt to place a linear understanding of her pedagogical approaches about plants and people. She quickly learns that to understand why and how people form connections to plants requires a more fluid and embodied understanding through story and art — allowing time for these connections to form. As her fellowship continues and throughout the other years she works alongside the education team and other research fellows, she learns the importance of allowing realizations, learnings, and connections to form requires moments of organic reflection — finding the “right” time and timeliness to cultivate meaningful connections between people and plants. In addition to allowing time to flow through story and performance (e.g. her performances of Hawaiian hula dance), it is also important for Poh, as a researcher, that she be aware of and act upon the biases that she holds for certain plants and her special relationship with these plants because of her background as a scientist and her Nyonya heritage. Much like the hibiscus and the banana plant that are key features in her project, she feels and experiences time differently – a non-linear and spiral patterned experience as co-learners and co-participants in these moments of critical meaning.
Poh’s analysis begins with the hibiscus flower which cycles through a circadian-rhythmic process called nyctinasty where this flower opens and closes in response to light and synchronization with its pollinators. It’s beautiful bloom only lasts between 24 – 36 hours before the flower wilts and falls to the ground. She is reminded of this as she shares stories about the hibiscus — and depending on the time of the year, students visiting the Conservatory and experiencing a virtual field trip may not see the hibiscus in bloom. She posits that we could offer a picture of a hibiscus or even attempt to preserve a hibiscus flower for students to see in the flower’s absence, but this would not be the same. As an educator, she asks herself, what is her intention for students when learning about the hibiscus? Was it to see its beautiful colours? Was it to feel its delicate petals and witness its cycles? Yes and no. Although she designs the learning experience with an intention for students to come to the conservatory to learn about the biology of the flower and plant, it is even more important for them to learn about its meaning to different cultures, its role as symbol of strength and courage, and a reminder of the planet’s beauty and its resilience as humans moved this plant species to diverse locations on the planet. At the same time, Poh is reminded that as a Nyonya from Malaysian heritage, the red hibiscus was chosen to be her country’s national flower. Bunga Raya (or Celebratory Flower) signifying the unity and courage of the Malaysian people: its five red petals embodying the spirit, resilience, and bravery of the nation. Through this experience Poh develops a much deeper appreciation and connection to the flower after immigrating and living in Canada for more than 30 years – a connection she notes was starting to fade due to geographical and cultural distance.
Finally, she shares that her time spent at the Conservatory, engaging with diverse narratives and participating in participatory action research, facilitates an organic emergence of patterns and insights, rather than her initial attempts to produce predetermined or expected outcomes. Her relationship and realizations within the education team, with other fellows in the program, and with the plants and animals in the Conservatory, leads her to an enriched understanding of time and patience. These also underscore the importance of capturing pivotal moments of connection far beyond the gardens – into her life as a mother, scientist, educator, and researcher.
Seeing Through a Non-Anthropogenic Lens
Shaila’s deep appreciation for Indigenous expressivism and the use of a non-anthropocentric lens are also key to this analysis. She realizes that these themes are rooted in her childhood memories observing people with a deep connection to nature — to the extent that their food habits were guided by the seasons. Yes, to some extent this is because only seasonal food was available back then — as the agro-economy was local. Still, because people practised this knowledge/wisdom about a connection that our bodies and minds have with the different seasons, that certain foods grow in season, and the reasons to include these habits can enhance our overall well-being. For example, Shaila sees the tradition of picking and cooking certain types of leafy greens together as ‘welcoming in’ a season. These food items were not cultivated but instead grew on their own –here and there – something that we have come to label as weeds (in the Western sense) thanks to modern and urban forms of education. She shares that it was traditionally a women’s duty to collect those leafy greens and though this may seem like a folk ritual — there is a deep meaning and purpose in the harvest. The growth of those leafy greens in a specific season indicates a healthy balance in the ecosystem of a particular place including the idea that a human cultivation system is in balance and does not destroy the natural growth of other species.
Shaila shares that it is women who ensured that this balance was intact – and so a women’s participation and care for the ecology exists where a patriarchal capitalist world denies it. She posits that there is a close and complex relationship between nature and the people who care for it. The relationship that people share with nature and the wisdom they gain from their relationship with the environment is documented and reflected in the knowledge of Ayurveda that focuses on the body, mind, and environment relationship. In her childhood, Shaila saw orchards and forests situated in the villages that were considered community property on which everybody had the right to harvest. Thus, our relationship with nature and our dependence on the environment, impacts people’s concept of property, rights, and ownership. These may seem disconnected observations, but all of these highlight the point that our relationship with nature is one of intricate co-existence and of knowledge production and a complex sharing that anthropocentrism denies.
Shaila sees such cultural practices fading away in Canada (and in her home country) and feels the hollowness created among humans when they become alienated from nature. She further reflects that upon her arrival to Canada, as much as she longed for human connection, she suffered also due to her unfamiliarity with local nature. She did not know which species to plant in which season, when they would bloom, or how she would take care of them. While there is an abundance of nature in BC, she feels fortunate to wake up in the morning and be amazed at the sight of BC’s mountains, and she laments that there was no connection for her in her early years in Canada. Her life experiences learning here in BC are gradually ‘taking root’ and she is learning more about nature and the local environment every day. She now knows the name of ‘that flower’ blooming in spring whose fragrance she used to inhale at night but never knew how to identify, she also learns how to walk on the unceded territories of Canada’s Indigenous nations, and how a summer night in this part of the world feels.
Summarizing all of this, Shaila’s time as a research fellow with the VBGA is a time of exploration, reflection, and understanding. She has encouragement from members of the research team to weave her thoughts and philosophies and to apply these in the creation of educational resources that help children have a more holistic view of nature and to understand that we humans are part of nature, not separate from it. It gives her the opportunity to explore new ideas and connect them with her cultural background and understanding of humans, society, and nature. Finally, she learns about and explores the participatory research method that encourages an organic development of research; a process that deeply resonates with us all as it forces us to rethink our role as researchers and our relationship with our immediate surroundings. Overall, the fellowship opportunity allows Shaila and other researchers a unique chance to experience an urban garden and explore its potential for education in a holistic sense that leads to a shared journey of personal growth and relationship building.

Campers washing harvested beets.
Summary and Conclusions
Analysis of our experiences with the VBGA fellowship program help make a case for the enactment of a more inclusive, ‘ecological’ framework for research in environmental programming. Put simply, this idea highlights an ‘embeddedness’ of humans in natural systems: an idea held by Indigenous cultures worldwide since time immemorial. Ecological frameworks view humans as one part of the natural world and human societies and cultures as essentially an outgrowth of interactions between our species and particular places. Such an approach to learning in the VBGA gardens has allowed educators to consider multiple perspectives on an issue under study. This line of inquiry also allowed our research fellows to more deeply consider the concept of ‘biocultural diversity’ which is central to our work.
Biocultural diversity as defined by is described as ‘the diversity of life in all its manifestations: biological, cultural, and linguistic’ which she shares are interrelated within a complex socioecological adaptive system. Maffi relates that this diversity is made up not only of the diversity of plants and animal species, but also of the diversity of human cultures and languages. This point must be highlighted in our work as our narratives have demonstrated that the cultural backgrounds of each of our research fellows were deeply influential in their research as we worked together to enact participatory methods in our action research conducted in these urban gardens.

VGBA Education team at Grouse Mountain.
Providing quality environmental education in our communities is something the dedicated team of educators at the VBGA holds near and dear to our hearts, after all it is this passion that brings us all together. That passion, however, is formed through our unique life experiences and worldviews. Letting researchers into our world was exciting and new, and with that also came worry. This stemmed from the fear that our team’s unique blend of educator perspectives may be judged, undervalued, or not be truly seen for our successes. We could not have foreseen that not only have our programs improved because of this PAR-based partnership, but we are encouraged in our passion, supported in our uniqueness, and challenged in our complacency. We are better informed by community, we value the evolution of language as a tool for belonging, and we look towards opportunities for growth as individuals, as an organization, and for community. The VBGA and the researchers that work here once seemed to be two separate pieces working alongside each other. Together, we came to see that the researchers, the VBGA, and community members all make up a thriving ecosystem reflective of our own biocultural diversity — collaboratively achieved while working together in these urban botanical gardens.
In all of this, we now regard biocultural diversity as a provocation for narrative forms of research such as this. In our work, we view the concept of bio-cultural diversity as dynamic in nature –taking as a start the local values and practices of different cultural groups (or individuals) as its starting point for doing participatory research. For educators, the idea is to work to preserve or restore important practices and values and to modify, adapt and support diversity in ways that resonate with diverse urban communities as they experience this learning in urban botanical gardens. In our research, bio-cultural diversity is conceived as a reflexive and sensitizing concept used to assess the different values and knowledge of all people – as a reflection on how we may live sustainably now, and in the future.
Endnotes
Maria Albuquerque, Jacqueline Kwok, Chantal Martin, Hailey Moran, Gladys Runtukahu, Poh Tan, and David Zandvliet, “Biocultural Diversity in Botanical Gardens: A Journey Through Stories,” Langscapes Magazine (2022, April) https://terralingua.org/stories/reverence-for-nature-a-biocultural-journey-in-botanical-gardens/
Luisa Maffi, ‘Biocultural Diversity and Sustainability,’ in Sage Handbook on Environment and Society, eds. Pretty, J. Ball, A.S., Benton, T., Guivant, J.S., Lee, D.R., Orr, D., Pfeffer, M.J. and Ward, H. (London: Sage, 2007), 267–77.
James Wandersee and Elizabeth Schussler, National survey on the public perception of plants. (Portland, OR: Paper presented at the Annual Meeting of the Botanical Society of America, 2000, Aug.)
Kathryn Parsley, “Plant awareness disparity: A case for renaming plant blindness,” Plants, People Planet 2(6), (2020), 598-601, https://doi.org/10.1002/ppp3.10153
Daniela Sellman and Franz Bogner, “Climate change education: quantitatively assessing the impact of a botanical garden as an informal learning environment,” Environmental Education Research, 19-4, (2013), 415–429, DOI:10.1080/13504622.2012.700696
Michael Bonnett, “Lost in space? Education and the concept of nature,” Studies in Philosophy and Education, 23, (2004), p125.
Gregory Smith and David Sobel, Place- and Community-based Education in Schools. (New York: Routledge, 2010).
Robert Stevenson, “A Critical Pedagogy of Place and the Critical Place(s) of Pedagogy.” Environmental Education Research, 14-3, (2008), 353–360.
Brian Watchow, B. and Michael Brown, “A Pedagogy of Place: Outdoor Education for a Changing World,” (Melbourne: Monash University Publishing, 2011).
Roy Ballantyne, Jan Packer, Karen Hughes and Lynn Dierking, “Conservation learning in wildlife tourism settings: Lessons from research in zoos and aquariums,” Environmental Education Research, 13(3), (2007), 367–383, DOI: 10.1080/13504620701430604
Daniele Sellman and Franz Bogner, “Climate change education: quantitatively assessing the impact of a botanical garden as an informal learning environment,” Environmental Education Research.
John Gaventa and Andrea Cornwall, Power and knowledge: The Sage handbook of action research: Participative action research, (London: Sage, 2008).
Wolff-Michael Roth, Auto/biography and auto/ethnography: Praxis of research method, 109 (Rotterdam: Brill/Sense Publishers, 2005).
Max van Manen, Researching lived experience: Human science for an action sensitive pedagogy. (N.Y: State University of New York Press, 1990).
Robbie Nicol, “Returning to the richness of experience: is autoethnography a useful approach for outdoor educators in promoting pro-environmental behaviour?,” Journal of Adventure Education & Outdoor Learning, 13:1, (2013), 3-17, DOI:10.1080/14729679.2012.679798
Jayne Pitard, “Using Vignettes Within Autoethnography to Explore Layers of Cross-Cultural Awareness as a Teacher,” Forum: Qualitative Social Research, 17, (2016), Art. 11.
Carolyn Ellis and Arthur P. Bochner, “Autoethnography: An Overview,” Forum: Qualitative Social Research 12, (2011), Art. 10.
Sarah Wall, “An autoethnography on learning about ethnography,” International Journal of Qualitative Methods, 5(2), (2006), https://journals.library.ualberta.ca/ijqm/index.php/IJQM/article/view/4396
Carolyn Ellis and Arthur P. Bochner, “Autoethnography: An Overview,” Forum: Qualitative Social Research.
Heewon Chang, Faith Ngunjiri, and Kathy-Ann C. Hernandez, Collaborative Autoethnography.
Simone Bignall, Steve Hemming, and Daryl Rigney, “Three Ecosophies for the Anthropocene: Environmental Governance, Continental Posthumanism and Indigenous Expressivism,” Deleuze Studies, Vol. 10, No. 4 (2016), 456-477, https://www.jstor.org/stable/45331750
Maria Mies and Vandana Shiva, Ecofeminism, (London: Zed Books, 2014).
Heewon Chang, Faith Ngunjiri, and Kathy-Ann C. Hernandez, Collaborative Autoethnography.
Farhad Mazhar, Daniel Buckles, P.V. Satheesh, and Farida Akhter, Food Sovereignty and Uncultivated Biodiversity in South Asia : Essays on the Poverty of Food Policy and the Wealth of the Social Landscape. (International Development Research Centre, 2007)
David Zandvliet, Shannon Leddy, Cate Inver, Victor Elderton, Brittney Townrow, Lori York, “Approaches to Bio-Cultural Diversity in British Columbia,” Sustainability, 15-8 (2023). https://doi.org/10.3390/su15086422
Gregory Cajete, Indigenous Community: Rekindling the Teachings of the Seventh Fire, (Living Justice Press, 2020).
Luisa Maffi, ‘Biocultural Diversity and Sustainability,’ in Sage Handbook on Environment and Society.
by editor | Nov 5, 2025 | Environmental Literacy
A linguistic “ecosystem”: Word study methods for outdoor education
by Sam Rubin
samrubin19@gmail.com
Once the students had settled on the benches of the Pond Shelter on IslandWood’s campus, I unfolded my large butcher paper with the word “macroinvertebrate” written in large letters.
“What does that say, macrinovirbatalalalate?”
“Microscope?”
“Macaroni and cheese!”
A chorus of giggles emerged as students wondered if we were going to study macaroni and cheese. I gave them space to explore this idea, excited about their joy as we began to engage in word study.
~~~
In my experience teaching in elementary school settings, a significant barrier in science sensemaking and understanding is the perception and reality of complicated scientific language. A student might see the word “macroinvertebrate” and receive an explanation of what it means, but the length and perceived complexity of the word blocks recall and connection to other words. Thus, a student might not see themselves as a scientist because they feel they lack the understanding and language to form that identity. While scientific words are lengthy and morphologically intricate, this structure makes them ripe for linguistic study.
I have always loved words, a love that was solidified as I began my studies of linguistics in college. After graduation, I found a job teaching kindergarten at an elementary school in the San Francisco Bay Area. To my pleasant surprise, the literacy curriculum at this school was grounded in linguistics, with kindergarteners learning words such as “grapheme” and “phoneme,” and engaging in a daily, interdisciplinary practice of morphological and etymological inquiry. This instructional method is deemed “Structured Word Investigation,” or SWI, based in research on effective morphological instruction (Bowers and Kirby, 2010). When I began my graduate studies teaching intersectional environmental education at IslandWood, I noticed myself engaging in SWI practices for sensemaking in this new context. I wondered if the same word study practices I employed in the classroom could be applied to outdoor, field-based science education.
SWI blurs the boundaries between science and literacy in novel ways. The scientific approach of noticing, wondering, and analyzing word data in literacy instruction challenges the notion of science as a discrete and exclusive endeavor, while using literacy practices in science construct deeper understanding. Additionally, the study of words creates space for multilingual learners to share their expertise. Perhaps a Spanish-speaking student knows a Spanish word with a Latin base that illuminates the meaning of a challenging morpheme, or two Lushootseed words for different more-than-humans illustrate a connection that clarifies a Western science conception.
In this article, I will share two SWI word studies I reasoned through with a wonderful group of students. Since every word study is different, I choose to share these as two vignettes rather than a context-lacking list of tips. I do hope that outdoor educators can use this article as both motivation and a toolbox, so techniques and curricular questions are inevitably included in these vignettes. At the end of this article are various resources to help you get started!
Day 1: “ecosystem”
When I meet a new group of students, I often ask them,“What is an ecosystem?” I usually do this by taking students to some of the different ecosystems IslandWood has on its campus, examining biotic and abiotic factors, and perhaps asking students to find similarities between themselves and the ecosystems they explored, to build a stronger connection to land. In planning for my week of word study, I looked up the etymology of <ecosystem> on etymonline.com (a SWI teacher’s favorite resource), finding that the base <stem> in <ecosystem> comes from the Greek word histanai, meaning “cause to stand.” From previous word studies, I know that the prefix <sy-> is an reduced form of the prefix <syn-> (sometimes appearing as <syl-> and <sym->), meaning “with, together.” To scaffold this word study for my students, I wrote the word sum “eco + sy + stem” on a large piece of butcher paper, folded it, and placed it in my backpack.
At the end our first field day, after some free explore time in a forest ecosystem, the time felt right for a word investigation. Sitting on the ground, logs, and stumps, students examined the butcher paper and awaited instruction.
My first question, as in any good scientific investigation, was, “What do you notice?”
Students shared that they knew about the prefix “eco-“, defining it as “environment.” Another student said a <system> is when “things work together.” A visibly excited student exclaimed, “So an <ecosystem> is when the environment works together!”
I was already thrilled about the direction of this word study, and wanted to go further. I asked students what they wondered about the word, and a student asked if it was connected to “STEM.” We talked about what the acronym stood for, and even though it wasn’t necessarily connected in meaning to the base “stem”, I still wrote it down, because it was a part of student sensemaking. Another student wondered if it was connected to the stem of a flower. I asked students what a flower stem does.
“Brings water and nutrients to the flower!”
“Protects the flower!”
“Makes it stand up!”
I couldn’t have said it better myself! The group decided that the definition of the base <stem> was “stand up,” and I wrote it down.
At this point, we had two out of three morphemes figured out, and it was time to tackle the pesky “sy-” prefix. After some think time, a particularly scientific student yelled out “photosynthesis!” Not usually the first word I see in this word study, I was more than happy to write it down and indicate further connections to science. Another student added “synthesis” to our list. The chaperone, a math teacher, asked students what it means when a shape can be split into two mirror-image parts, and like a lightbulb turning on, half the students cried “symmetrical!” Thinking about other words they learned in school, one student shared the word “synonym” and another “sympathy”. We had a good list of words going, so we moved on to thinking about commonalities between words.
“All these words mean something about being similar, or together!”
“Oh! So an ecosystem is when the environment stands up together!”
“Yeah, but maybe ‘stands up’ in this word means something like supporting or working together.”
I took this opportunity to ask my favorite question: “So, how are we an ecosystem?”
Quiet. Then, a brave voice.
“Well, we all work together, and support each other to help each other stand.”
“Yeah! And we all stand up for each other!”
What began as a vague, science-y nature word suddenly became a meaningful, connected, and motivating idea. Through every student observation, question, and synthesis, we were building a deeper understanding of both language and science, grounded in our outdoor context.

Figure 1: Recorded evidence of our investigation. I crossed out the accidental extra “s”, and made a show of adjusting my understanding after a mistake! Photo by Sam Rubin.
Day 2: “macroinvertebrate”
Once the students had settled on the benches the Pond Shelter on IslandWood’s campus, I unfolded my large butcher paper, with the word <macroinvertebrate> written in large letters. We were about to investigate various freshwater macroinvertebrates to assess the pollution level of the pond.
“What does that say, macrinovirbatalalalate?”
“Microscope?”
“Macaroni and cheese!”
A chorus of giggles emerged as students wondered if we were going to study macaroni and cheese. Sensing the challenge in a large group discussion, while also hoping for students to apply some of their knowledge from our “ecosystem” investigation, I prompted them to work with a small group and write down some ideas in their journals. I asked them to write down what they noticed, what they wondered, and perhaps hypothesize a word sum (since I hadn’t split the word into morphemes this time).
After some writing and pair-share, a student pointed out that they recognized the prefix “macro-” as the opposite of “micro->, like in “microscope”, and another student clarified that “macro-” means “big.” Another student noticed <invert>, having seen the word “inverted” before. Another student noticed the prefix “in-“, and thus we are left with the base “vert”. All these ideas (along with “macaroni and cheese”) were written on the butcher paper, so students (and I!) could track the discussion.
At this point, we are left with the base “vert”. While not a word itself, like the base “stem” in “ecosystem”, “vert” might appear in many words an elementary school student might see. We call this a bound base, since it must be bound to a prefix, suffix, or other base to make a recognizable English word.
I had done some research about “vert” using Neil Ramsden’s Word Searcher, a helpful tool for finding words with similar structures to a base of interest. It is important to remember, though, that a word may share the same structure as the base, but have a different meaning, such as “overtake”, a compound word combing “over” and “take”. It is vital to always check for both when planning a word study.
In uncovering the meaning of “vert”, I prompted the students with some ideas. Perhaps in math they learned about “vertical” axes or a shape’s “vertex”, in social studies read about religious “converts”, or in SEL class thought about whether they were more “extroverted” or “introverted”. As they uncovered these words, a student had an idea that these words had to do with “angles” or “turning.” Their idea aligned with the Latin root vertere meaning “to turn.” Suddenly, the word “vertebrate” that one student has also pointed out made more sense, as the place where someone’s body “turns.”
Now, as the group looked at the word <macroinvertebrate> they notice denotations of “large,” “not,” and “turn” within the word, along with a connection to backbones, and the larger, unfamiliar word becomes a conglomerate of small, familiar morphemes. One student hypothesized that the definition of a macroinvertebrate could be “a large creature that can’t move in a certain way because it doesn’t have a backbone,” followed by many nods of assent from their peers.

Figure 2: Recorded evidence of our “macroinvertebrate” investigation. Photo by Sam Rubin.
When we were exploring the macroinvertebrates at the pond after our word study, I experienced a much richer pool of observations around the ways these creatures were moving and turning, what protections they had, and their relative size. Our word study both gave students tools to be more active readers while also engaging their scientific minds.
—
“What were those little bugs we saw at the pond called again?” A student wondered as we were walking to their lodge, preparing for departure.
“OH! Umm, I think it started with an ‘m’, like m…a…c…r…o…” her friend responded.
“MACROINVERTEBRATES!” they yelled in unison.
I smiled, observing this too-good-to-be-true assessment of their new linguistic knowledge. Not only did they recall the name and meaning of this large word, but also were able to begin to spell it out! I knew that engaging in frequent word study in the classroom was an effective literacy tool, and now could see evidence of just two days of scientific, contextual word investigation.
I challenge educators, especially outdoor educations to really spend time with the word-related questions students ask. The only tools you really need to facilitate these are curiosity and a proclivity towards saying “yes, and…” (traits of any effective outdoor educator). It is okay to get things wrong–I often will return to a previous day’s word study clarifying a mistake I later realized I had made, which only contributes to the student’s learning and development of trusting relationships. If you have a word in mind, do some research on Etymonline, but don’t expect all the answers there! The most exciting learning occurs from engaging in scientific word study with students themselves.
Resources
- com: A master of SWI and word study, Rebecca Loveless shares more background and implementation of SWI curriculum.
- Words in the Wild: A literacy- and exploration-based outdoor education center that provides ideas of scientific, contextual word study.
- Etymonline: An “online etymological dictionary” helpful for word study research.
- Neil Ramsden’s Word Searcher: A tool for finding words that share prefixes, suffixes, and bases.
References
Bowers, P. N., & Kirby, J. R. (2010). Effects of morphological instruction on vocabulary acquisition. Reading and Writing, 23(5), 515–537. https://doi.org/10.1007/s11145-009-9172-z
Credits
Sam Rubin is a field instructor and graduate student at IslandWood’s Graduate Program in Education for Environment and Community in partnership with the University of Washington.
by editor | Sep 22, 2025 | Arts and Humanities, Environmental Literacy, Language Arts, Place-based Education
Staging Nature
Integrating Place-based Environmental Education, Literacy, and the Performing Arts
by Regine Randall, Rebecca Edmondson, and MaryAnne Young
“Teacher, teacher, teacher, teacher, teacher!”
Such a cry is likely to get any educator’s attention—and quickly. Yet, this repetitive call is not coming from a child but, rather, an ovenbird whose common breeding territory includes Acadia National Park in Maine. In a unique collaboration supported by a regional instructional grant, teachers Rebecca Edmondson and MaryAnne Young at Conners Emerson School in Bar Harbor, Maine—the primary gateway for Acadia—developed a musical to integrate multiple elements of the state’s Kindergarten–Grade 5 curriculum while also helping children to take notice of the very special place where they live.
Creating the musical Plant Kindness and Gather Love gave the students at Conners Emerson, as well as the communities on Mount Desert Island, an opportunity to celebrate the 2016 centennial of Acadia National Park and the bicentennial of Maine in 2020. Plant Kindness and Gather Love, however, was much more than that: it served as a much-needed model for creative teaching where learning objectives incorporate important foundational skills with efforts going well beyond screens or a brick and mortar building to raise children’s awareness of the world around them.
The seed of an idea takes root

Acadia National Park draws several million visitors from across the world every year. Yet, Edmondson and Young wondered how well students at Conners Emerson really knew what was in their own backyard? Having collaborated frequently and over time to blend language arts with music, Edmondson and Young observed that this integrated approach had a consistently positive impact on student learning and engagement. Young had a regular practice of sharing books with children in which the lyrics of a song were, in fact, the entire narrative of the story. With books in hand, the students then sought out Edmondson’s help in learning the songs. Singing the text breathed new life into traditional read-alouds. With this in mind, Edmondson realized that she and Young could adapt the same approach beyond a single book or skill (e.g. alphabet learning) to create an original story about Acadia. As noted earlier, the project coincided with celebrations of the centennial of Acadia and the bicentennial of Maine but also tapped into traditional academic subjects and literacy standards. Raising awareness of the park’s natural diversity through the musical was simply one more opportunity for Edmondson and Young to amplify what could be discovered within Acadia but also a chance to join with park associates in highlighting stewardship through family-friendly conservation practices.
Centuries ago, philosophers Johann Heinrich Pestalozzi and Friedrich Froebel argued that the best education occurred when children learned with the head, heart, and hands through play (McKenna, 2010; Tracey & Morrow 2012). Plant Kindness & Gather Love became a manifestation, quite literally, of Unfoldment Theory where teachers provided the necessary support for the children’s play (Prochner, 2021). Moreover, Edmondson and Young believed that such a musical would help children as young as kindergarten begin to see themselves as stewards of the earth because coming to love a place foments a desire to know and protect it (North American Association for Environmental Education [NAAEE], 2016). Despite the Herculean effort required to launch any school production, the excitement and pleasure embedded in this creative endeavor optimized learning for students and teachers alike while also forging a stronger and more memorable connection to the natural world. What makes the work unique is that their younger students did not need to wait until middle or high school to “envision knowledge” because this collaboration gave them the opportunity to be actors in sharing what they learned with a community that may or may not have known the same content (Langer, 2011).
From root to branch
Plant Kindness and Gather Love developed into a forty-minute musical with ten original songs written, arranged, and choreographed by Young and Edmondson with parts for fifteen characters. In the planning stage, Young and Edmondson brainstormed ideas for the musical with the Acadia National Park (ANP) Education Coordinator, Katie Petri, as well as other ANP associates. The Park Service went on to provide material support for the production in the form of Junior Ranger hats. The goal of the musical was to expand the venues through which children learned environmental content specific to Acadia and Mt. Desert Island. Instructional activities that supported the production of the musical ranged from students sketching and labeling wildflowers (where they also learned about the Fibonacci sequence) to discussing and illustrating the dramatic seasonal changes in Acadia to determining the components of stewardship and encouraging that we all act upon them. Such endeavors help introduce children, especially those in kindergarten and the primary grades, to all the park has to offer since more formal outdoor education programs (e.g., Young Birder, Schoodic Adventure) often begin a bit later, typically around age ten or fourth grade.
Interest in the musical spread throughout the school and the larger community. Locally, the art teacher helped with scenery and displays, a local greenhouse donated flowering plants and foliage, and parents constructed costumes. To help other teachers throughout the state and New England consider similar projects, Petrie organized a teacher workshop at the Schoodic Institute at Acadia National Park based on Plant Kindness and Gather Love as a follow up to performances in Bar Harbor, Maine. Additional workshops on the musical were offered at the Maine Music Educators Association Conference and the Maine Environmental Education Association Conference. Most notably, a copy of Plant Kindness and Gather Love went to Washington DC to be placed on Senator Susan Collins’ reception room table along with other children’s books by Maine authors.
Making music
The songs within the musical Plant Kindness and Gather Love moved from broad concepts to specific ideas. In “Nature Lover,” the introduction began with a simple request: step outside. Jason Mraz had expressed this same sentiment years earlier in a clever rearrangement of his smash pop hit, “I’m Yours” where, during his performance of “Outdoors” on Sesame Street, he sings about the good feeling we get when we’re no longer “trapped between the walls and underneath the ceiling” (Sesame Street, 2009). Edmondson and Young took a similar approach by using song to inspire students to explore, but Acadia was the place to where children were taking a “close look or commanding view.” Only through experiencing the sights, feelings, sounds, and wanderings in a place like Acadia can they promote the desire, as Jason Mraz also reminded us, that “all of nature deserves to be loved, loved, loved, loved, loved” In the musical, a “nature lover” may be one who goes on to identify birds in Acadia by their unique calls or one who takes the initiative necessary to lead for an environmentally literate citizenry as made manifest by Maine’s motto of “Dirigo” (“I lead” or “I direct”).
Thinking, seeing, listening, learning, dancing, singing
Plant Kindness and Gather Love integrated content to develop higher-order thinking skills in identification, comparison/contrast, mapping, synthesis, and representation. Typically, the focus on higher-order thinking characterizes learning objectives in grades six to twelve when basic academic skills are assumed to be more fully developed (Zwiers, 2004). Yet, as Johns and Lenski (2014) note, learning anything requires that we can recognize something for what it is and also know what it is not. Edmondson and Young capitalized on this principle in their musical. For instance, the tempo of the song “Beacon Bills” is allegro (brisk) and includes the calls of no less than ten birds found in the park. Children become acclimated to a “prima donna” cardinal calling “purty, purty, purty” whereas a chestnut-sided warbler is “pleased, pleased, pleased to meet cha.” What is significant here is that students come to know things not through sight or seatwork alone. They can also learn by seeing what gets left behind: tracks, nests, scents, even scat! Not actually seeing but still knowing is the essence of inferential reasoning.
Another song in Plant Kindness and Gather Love has children singing of the wildflowers in Acadia. This scene incorporates movement because the children who play daisies, violets, bachelor buttons, British soldiers, foxgloves, and Johnny jump-ups are “dancing in the breeze” along the sea. Movement can solidify content in long-term memory, and we see this technique in teaching letters through air writing as well as during exercised where children tap out sounds or clap to count syllables (Madan & Singhal, 2012). That said, imagining that the wind off the Gulf of Maine made you sway in the same way as Queen Anne’s lace can fuse children’s personal expression with their connection to nature.
Children performing as flowers may be charming as well as kinesthetic, but it did not veil the very pointed message contained in the refrain. As the “flowers” came together in a true “kindergarten,” they sang out “Don’t pick me” over and over. Children’s growing sense of the natural world develops alongside their growing sense of themselves, as well as others, in the world. By leaving flowers to bloom and go to seed, we are making a promise to those who will come upon them in the next season that they play a vital role in the park ecosystem in addition to being a pleasure we share (Harlan & Rivkin, 2008). Of course, not all plants are equal, and such a song helps elementary science teachers also discuss the concepts of invasive species such as purple loosestrife in the park.
More on reading and writing Acadia
Too often and in many schools, reading and writing activities in the primary grades are taught as discrete skills that divorce them from other content (Gabriel, 2013). With science of reading initiatives, this practice may become even more entrenched with the focus on content area reading and writing not gaining momentum until upper elementary or middle school when curriculum more often reflects scheduling constraints, staffing, or building organization rather than a pedagogical decision (Fullan et al., 2018). Yet, the musical and what children learned about Acadia easily lead to a variety of literacy activities that keep nature and content learning at the fore. For example, children who are developing phonological awareness, an important precursor to skilled reading, can participate in activities where they see pictures of different birds (such as owl, seagull, chickadee), name the bird, and then stomp out the number of syllables they hear in the name. In a word identification lesson focusing on the onset (letter or letters making the initial consonant sound, blend, or digraph) and rime (the vowel that follows and remaining letters) of one syllable words, choosing a word from one of the songs (e.g., “pick” from the refrain “Don’t Pick Me!” in “Wildflowers of Acadia”) so that children can change the first letter(s) to form other words strongly supports decoding and spelling development (tick, quick, stick, chick, etc.). Since students are likely to have been introduced to this vocabulary, the words are easier to decode for two reasons: 1) they are within the same phonetic word family, and 2) they have become part of students’ receptive and expressive language used when learning about Acadia.
Such an activity moves from word and spelling patterns to an opportunity to record salient observations based on what happens in the park. For instance, “Tuck your pants into your socks to avoid tick bites.” Another might be “With a quick dive, a loon snatches a fish.” Or, “Adding a branch here and a little stick there, beavers keep their dam in good shape.” Finally, “Trails to Jordan, Valley Cove, and Precipice cliffs often close in the spring because peregrine falcons nest there and raise their chicks.” In another spin on word learning, the use of rhyming words such as tea, ski, and tree all contain different graphemes (ea, i, and ee) that are among the letter combinations that “spell” the long /e/ sound. Not only do such activities help children learn phonics concepts and other basic skills, but they are also introducing content specific vocabulary (loon, dam), homonyms (their, there), and usage based on context (nest as a verb). Bridging the observation skills that help children notice the macro and micro details within the natural world strengthens their ability to notice patterns and differences across multiple areas.
Speaking from my own perspective as a teacher educator, I welcome instruction that moves away from over-dependence on workbooks and commercial programs. Teachers who understand the scope and sequence of language development are poised to use any text any day to capitalize on how words work (sounds, spelling, syllables) and the ways we use words to create meaning and show what we know. Writing prompts that simply ask children to record what they see (the waves rolling in at Sand Beach), feel (wind at the top of Cadillac Mountain), or hear (the collision of water and air at Thunder Hole) are always authentic in the sense that responses can change day by day, hour by hour, or minute by minute. In terms of checking understanding of key facts or concepts, students can also complete sentence stems such as:
- Hiking in the woods means….(e.g. you might get bug bites).
- Being a park ranger means…(e.g. you have to be good with the public).
- Loving nature means…(e.g. you are happiest outside).
- Going to Acadia means…(e.g. you are on an island, or you could be on the Schoodic peninsula, or you are in a National Park).
Open-ended sentence stems allow children to generate many different responses with varying level of detail. Such responses can also suggest what we need to study further or better understand. It is a low-risk activity that introduces children to multiple perspectives while also enabling the teacher to identify misconceptions or misinformation (Randall & Marangell, 2018). Further, the sentence stems serve as a launch for extended writing on a self-selected topic of interest to the student. Ultimately, though, Plant Kindness and Gather Love went beyond interdisciplinary cross-pollination: it helped teachers understand how nature and place can re-energize lessons to improve targeted skills, expand our ideas of text to include multimodal materials beyond print (artifacts, audio, digital collections, etc.), and facilitate content learning. Historically, we know what engages learners and creates success; the joy and pleasure that went into imagining, producing, and performing Plant Kindness and Gather Love are the same emotions that motivate any learner to gain important skills, understand content more deeply, achieve more, and seek out new experiences wherever they are (Dewey, 1938; Duke et al., 2021; Gardner, 1999; Rosenblatt, 1938).
Show and share how to care
The musical concluded with an ode to the beauty of the park, which is undeniable and fine as far that goes, but also, more pointedly, with a call to be active in its preservation. The different songs, choreography, and even the costuming in the musical all contributed to creating the sense of wonder that comes from living in proximity to the natural world (Wilson, 1994). The score and lyrics for “Nature Lover” in Plant Kindness and Gather Love sets the stage by encouraging discovery, and the North American Association for Environmental Education (2016) described children as naturally inquisitive because “everything” is worth exploring “with all of the senses” (p. 2). So, exploring is for everyone but, perhaps, it is children’s particular ability to notice “a fish, a beaver, or an otter…a little bird…a white-tailed deer” that can reignite our own interest in using natural places as tableaux for learning.
You, too, may live in an area that has of extraordinary natural beauty and diversity, is near a wonderful park, or, equally important, want to make wherever it is you do live more special in the eyes of children. For instance, Last Stop Market Street by Matt de la Pena and Christian Robinson is a children’s picture book of city life where Nana helps her grandson smell the rain, watch it pool on flower petals, and be a better witness to what’s beautiful in people, places, and things. With this in mind, the success of Plant Kindness and Gather Love may be just the right incentive for you and your colleagues to tell the “lively stories” – in any form, not just musicals – of the places and the inhabitants in your community (van Dooren, 2014).
References
Dewey, John. (1938). Experience and education. Macmillan.
Duke, N. K., Ward, A. E., & Pearson, P. D. (2021). The science of reading comprehension instruction. The Reading Teacher, 74(6), 663-672.
Fullan, M., Quinn, J., & McEachen, J. (2018). Deep learning: Engage the world, change the world. Corwin.
Gabriel, R. (2013). Reading’s non-negotiables: Element of effective reading instruction. Rowman & Littlefied Education.
Gardner, H. (1999). Intelligence reframed: Multiple intelligences for the twenty-first century. Basic Books.
Harlan, J. D., & Rivkin, M. S. (2008). Science experiences for the early childhood years: An integrated affective approach (9th ed.). Pearson.
Johns, J., & Lenski, S. (2014). Improving reading: Strategies, resources, and Common Core connections. Kendall-Hunt.
Langer, J. A. (2011). Envisioning knowledge: Building literacy in the academic disciplines. Teachers College.
Madan, C. R., & Singhal, A.. (2012). Using actions to enhance memory: Effects of enactment, gestures, and exercise on human memory. Frontiers in Psychology, 3(507): 1-4. http://dx.doi.org/10.3389/fpsyg.2012.00507
McKenna, M. K. (2010). Pestalozzi revisited: Hope and caution for modern education. Journal of Philosophy and History of Education, 60, 121-25.
North American Association for Environmental Education. (2016). Guidelines for excellence: Early childhood environmental education programs. NAAEE. https://cdn.naaee.org/sites/default/files/final_ecee_guidelines_from_chromographics_lo_res.pdf
Prochner, L. (2021). Our proud heritage. Take it outside; A history of nature-based education. NAEYC. https://www.naeyc.org/resources/pubs/yc/fall2021/take-it-outside
Randall, R., & Marangell, J. (2018). Changing the narrative: Literacy as sustaining practice in every classroom. Association of Middle Level Education, 6(2), 10-12. https://www.amle.org/BrowsebyTopic/WhatsNew/WNDet/TabId/270/ArtMID/888/ArticleID/918/Changing-the-Narrative.aspx
Rosenblatt, L. (1938). Literature as exploration. Appleton-Century.
Sesame Street. (2009, December 18). Outdoors with Jason Mraz [Video]. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZrqF7yD10Bo&ab_channel=SesameStreet
Tracey, D. H., & Morrow, L. M. (2012). Lenses on reading: An introduction to theories and models (2nd ed.). Guilford.
van Dooren, T. (2014). Flight ways. Columbia University Press.
Wilson, R. (1994). Environmental education at the early childhood level. North American Association for Environmental Education.
Zwiers, J. (2004). Developing academic thinking skills in grades 6–12: A handbook of multiple intelligence activities. International Reading Association.
Authors
Régine Randall, PhD, is a professor in Curriculum and Learning at Southern Connecticut State University (SCSU) in New Haven, Connecticut where she teaches both graduate and undergraduate courses in education. Her teaching and research interests allow for regional collaboration with K-12 educators on literacy instruction and assessment, student engagement, and best practices in environmental and agricultural education. With roots in Maine, Régine is an avid hiker and biker throughout New England and the Adirondack Mountains of upstate New York.
Rebecca Edmondson is a composer, conductor, clinician who has taught in both public and private schools in Maine and Pennsylvania for the past forty years. Her school music program was one of 12 in the country designated as a Model Music Education Program, and her writing has appeared in the American String Teacher. In addition to winning composition competitions, Rebecca was named the 2022 Maine’s Hancock County Teacher of the Year. She continues to nurture the love of learning through music and developing children’s books. All this has prepared her to become Liam and Finn’s Grammy.
MaryAnne Young is a lifetime resident of coastal Maine. She comes from a large family tree of educators and authors. After more than 38 years as an educator MaryAnne retired from Conners Emerson School. She engages with young learners as a substitute teacher and continues to write poetry and story songs. MaryAnne is inspired by the woods, waters and wildlife that surround the place she calls home. Her most joyful lifetime achievement is being a proud Mimi to Cameron and Maya…the new generation of Nature Lovers!A
by editor | Sep 20, 2025 | Environmental Literacy
Field-based Inquiry: Developing Comprehension and Memory
Preparing teachers to introduce their students to field-based research in local or regional environments means that these teachers have an inherent need to actually be able to do the kinds of work they plan for their students to engage. Something to think about.
by Jim Martin
It’s a bright, sunshiny day on Oregon’s Salmon River, not far from where it passes by Welches, a small Oregon village. Just downstream, a school bus is disgorging a happy class, who are running down to the river’s edge. Arrived, the students traipse down the path to the river; happy, lugging gear; knapsacks hopping back and forth around their shoulders. Happy class; happy day! They are here to investigate the health of this stream in this particular place; and so, array themselves along the river’s bank; organize into five groups of four; find and arrange their gear, and start to work. Each group has chosen one of five aspects of the stream: Temperature and dissolved oxygen; turbidity; aquatic plant species; sediment grain size; and a transect from river’s edge 100 meters onto the shore to identify plant species. The odd thing about this is that this is their first field trip this year. And the teacher is standing, quiet, further up the stream bank, a slow smile on her face. What is she thinking? What does she know?
Have you ever wondered how natural areas develop and express a coherent view of a place which is as it should be?
Have you ever attempted to explore that thought; conducted an inquiry of your own into what is there, and how it works?
One more question: Have you ever stood looking over an urban or suburban area, and wondered if it actually works for your benefit?
What is Field-Based Research?
Field-based research with students is a relatively recent phenomenon which immerses the brains and bodies of teachers and students in a milieu of conceptual interactions with concrete elements of a natural area which ultimately converge to produce people who comprehend, interact with, and appreciate, the species and ecosystems they visit, or live within. How does it do this?
Good question. Try to envision how this would operate in a school classroom, without googling or searching for information to respond to that question. How many of us left our last school, college, or university, with not only a clear understanding of the species in the ecosystem we inhabit; but, the experience of sitting on a river bank, holding a temperature probe, ready to measure the temperature of the water next to the shore. Knowing why you’re doing this.
This might seem unattainable; but, a few hours in a natural area, with a well-prepared teacher, and some classroom prep in how to use most instruments; and, in the species who live there, can do it. And, using this active learning approach to education uses our brain in the way itevolved to do just that: Look about. See. Think!
This method of teaching new material involves active learning, in which students, after a brief introduction to the topic under study, engage in self-directed discussions, development of questions which need answers, active planning for activities directed by those questions, development of group roles and ways to work together effectively; and, finally, self and group assessment. When we take students, and teachers, into a natural area to engage in research into an ecosystem and its inhabitants, we open a door to this very human, and very effective way that our brain and body are organized to work together to discover, learn about, and comprehend, the components of this place: Who they are, what they do, and how they do this in cooperation with all the pieces of this particular place. Understandings that humans developed thousands of years ago; and which are slowly being re-learned by today’s humans.
Before the class’s field trip to the natural area, they spent three classes engaging as much of the field work as they could without being on that river bank in order to learn the observational skills they would need on site. On one of those days, they made their observations on a creek which flowed through the west edge of the school grounds. By their third day in the creek and lab, all of the students had introduced themselves to each of the sets of equipment, books, etc., and now will focus on one set, describe where they will be on that streambank, and how they would organize themselves and their gear to do a good job while they are on site. During all this work, as they observed in the creek and in the lab, practicing their skills, each student, and each group, discovered they were growing; working together, figuring things out, learning about their own capacities in this new world they had engaged.
Then, the Temperature and Dissolved Oxygen group gathered together the five temperature and dissolved oxygen samples they had collected on the creek behind the school the day before, each from a different part of the creek. They brought each sample, one at a time, to their lab table, unscrewed the lid of each container, carefully let the probe into the container, and recorded the data presented: Temperature, or Dissolved Oxygen. They did this for each of their five samples, then used a graph to plot their data. The data, as plotted, is shown in the figure here. Their job at this point became how to explain the shape of their curve. They had made careful descriptions of the five stations when they made their water collections in the creek on their school grounds, and noted that there was a small fallen tree near Station 3, which disturbed plants, animals, and the bottom at that site. They decided that the slow rise at Station 4 simply indicated a recovery process might be in place; and, they would measure dissolved oxygen at Station 4 when they next visited the creek.
Currently, the U.S. is way behind in slowing climate change. Today’s students need all the assistance they can find in order to understand this fact, and its consequences for them in their lives.
Field-based science inquiry has proven itself over the past few decades to generate understandings which lead people to do their part in alleviating global warming’s effects. As noted in numerous articles found in CLEARING, and performed by teachers who have worked with organizations like the Diack Ecology Education Project1 to build their skills and understandings. We need to be prepared to increase the comprehension and dedication of a much larger segment of students in school today.
We, and our Primate ancestors, learned this way of looking at our world by interacting with it. As Archie Diack2, the founder of the Diack Ecology Education Program, said, more than once, “When we get our hands dirty, we begin to learn about the environment we live in.” When we hold a temperature probe in place in a stream, read the reported temperature, and set the probe down in order to pull out a pen to record it in a notebook, we are physically engaging thoughts and actions in the “Real World”—that physical place outside our body or classroom. Those actions produce a key to unlock the place in our brain which supports critical thinking, and long-term memory; the prefrontal cortex, or PFC. It all starts when we “place our hands on . . .” . That simple act sets our critical thinking processes in motion.
When we engage our mind in critical thinking, the PFC sets up a free place for this work and its storage, and a group of neural addresses which point to relevant information on this thing you want to know about. It does this, not to tell us what to think; but, to provide access to information, to suggest steps to take in order to accomplish your thinking, and memories from your current work that you’ll want later. In effect, the PFC helps you to set up what amounts to an office in your brain, and a strategic plan to learn this place you are working and thinking within. This same phenomenon can work in classrooms also, but is rarely employed.
Now, back to action! We left the teacher, a slow smile forming, and her students, organizing their work. Let’s get back to them. They are engaged in a sampling of a teacher-organized, student-centered, project to help students to comprehend the place of natural ecosystems in our worlds, and their place within them.
Back on the stream bank, the student groups have decided just where their particular station would work best; and, have begun to discuss how to set them up. As a class, they, not their teacher, are deciding just where each group’s station would work best. We’ll follow the Water Temperature and Dissolved Oxygen team, who are setting up a 30-meter reach along the river bank, adjacent to where a set of rocks in the stream near the shore, a growth of rushes and grasses in the water, and a strand of sand beyond the beach, will provide a variety of microhabitats which might affect the temperature and dissolved oxygen in the water in the stream along their reach. Before they started this field trip, in the classroom, they researched, thought, and finally decided to relate temperature and dissolved oxygen to the health of the stream itself, and for the organisms living there. So, this decision will focus the work that they do.
They decided to form two subgroups, one to do the temperature work, the other to do the dissolved oxygen work. The make up of each subgroup was decided by each student declaring what he or she preferred to do, then accommodating where possible. Then, they went to work. During the time they made and recorded their observations, they made minor decisions among each subgroup when a small tweak needed to be made in their work. And, so, they carefully measured and mapped their sampling stations in their notebooks, naming them by their polar coordinates. (Something they dreamed up!!) They also described their sites, and detailed the reasons for placing things where they are.
All this time, the teacher was moving up and down the class’ reach, responding to questions and encouraging their good work and thinking. When time was up, students gathered their materials, and moved back to the covered area on the shore, with the tables and benches they would need when they set things down; and, prepared a preliminary report on their work, findings, and interpretations. Each of the five groups decided on their part of the report. They agreed to calibrate the report when they were back in school.
Each of the five classroom groups decided on their part of the report. They agreed to calibrate the report when they were back in school. Throughout their work, members of each group began to clarify relationships, the nature and specifics of the work, the meaning of what they were doing, and their own individual development into an effective member of their group. Students discovered that they are a powerful arrangement of people, ideas, and materials which can work together to accomplish worthwhile things. They learned that they could pull two or more pairs together as needed to build effective work groups. Plus, they learned that, when we begin to discover our own capacity while we are working, we discover that we are becoming people. This work, and events, may look or be different for each class, but together are usually equally effective.
The main reason these students were able to accomplish so much within a 4-hour field work period lies in the way their teacher organized her delivery. She has used active learning delivery techniques for three years now, and is very comfortable with them. One of the things she did was on Day One of the school year, arrange to have her students organize themselves into pairs. She did this by giving each student a Partner Calendar, a mostly blank sheet with spaces for writing “Time”, “Partner”, down the sheet until they had done ten spaces, with times beginning about 8:00 AM, until ending at 5:00 PM. Then, she asked the students to go around and introduce themselves to one another; and, while they were doing this, ask for, and fill out, a Calendar “Date”. As the class did this, she walked around and noticed who was totally involved in the activity, and who was either perplexed, or seemed bored. She talked to each of them individually, asking them how they thought this might work to organize effective work groups. This was one of the steps she used to build strong, effective groups. Students, many of whom had never met, began to know one another. This seemed to work each of the three years she had done it; and, that seemed to be true this day also.
When all the work of signing up seemed to be done, she asked the class to get together with their 2:00 Dates, and then brought these pairs out into the lab to take first steps for some work they would do. She asked each pair, a dyad, to get together with another pair to form a tetrad, a group of four. Each tetrad selected and went to a particular table. When they were at their tables, the teacher let the partners know that, in about three weeks, they would be going out to a river near the Columbia Gorge, between Washington and Oregon. Meanwhile, each week, they would spend one day in the lab, preparing to use the equipment they’d need to examine the river.
What did the teacher know? She knew from her teacher education preparation, and from two workshops she had attended three years before, that teacher lectures and assigned homework did not produce students who were involved and invested in their learnings. So, she attended a workshop focused on active learning, and a light flashed in her mind; she suddenly “got it!” Organize the teaching environment, now matter where it is, and organize what the students do so that it will raise questions in their minds. She knows now that they will heartily engage those questions; and, in doing so, will learn more than she could teach them using didactic methods. She had discovered learning as our brain is organized to do just that.
1 A program (https://www.diackecology.org/) which provides training for teachers, funds for equipment to use in natural areas, and basic funding for transportation to study sites.
2. Archie Diack, the founder of the Diack Ecology Education Program. The family of Arch W. Diack established the Diack Ecology Education Program to encourage teachers to involve students in student field-based research and ecology. The Diack program seeks to inspire a combination of experiential education and authentic science in order to spark interest in a scientific understanding of the complex ecosystems of the natural world.
Jim Martin is a retired but still very active science educator who has written a remarkable series on finding science lessons in your community for CLEARING. You can find them at www.clearingmagazine.org.Student
by editor | Sep 20, 2025 | Data Collection, Environmental Literacy, Experiential Learning, Forest Education, Inquiry, Integrating EE in the Curriculum, Learning Theory, Marine/Aquatic Education, Questioning strategies
Building a Community: The Value of a Diack Teacher Workshop
Teachers are being asked to do more than ever before. We are inundated with meetings, grading, analyzing data and curriculum development. The idea of taking kids outside to do field-based research can be daunting and filled with bureaucratic hurdles. Given all this, why should we take our precious time to implement this new type of learning?
by Tina Allahverdian
It is a warm summer day at Silver Falls State Park and a group of teachers are conducting a macroinvertebrate study on the abundance and richness of species around the swimming hole. The air is filled with sounds of laughter from children playing, parents conversing on the bank, and the gentle babble of the stream below the dam. The teachers, armed with Dnets, clipboards, and other sampling equipment, move purposefully through the water collecting aquatic species. Being a leader at this unique workshop, I am there to support the teacher’s inquiry project and also help brainstorm ways to bring this type of work back to their classrooms.
The buckets on the bank soon host a variety of species like water beetles, caddisflies, and stonefly nymphs, offering a snapshot of the rich biodiversity in the stream. We teachers sit on the bank, peering into the tubs, magnifying lenses and field guides in hand. We fill out data collection forms and discuss our findings. On this particular summer day, several young children at the park gather to see what we are doing. Their curiosity is piqued by the idea of discovering the hidden inhabitants of the aquatic ecosystem they are swimming in. The teachers and I patiently explain the project to the children and their parents. While some of the crowd goes back to swimming, two little girls stay for over an hour to help identify species. Later, while we pack up a mother stops to thank us for including her daughter in the scientific process. She shares that discovering the magic of the stream with us is her daughter’s idea of a perfect day. This moment is a testament to the power of experiential learning and the unexpected magic that can happen when we take learning into the field.
After the field work is completed, we all gather back at the lodge to create posters and present our results to the rest of the workshop participants. Based on individual interests and grade levels, teachers work in small groups to analyze their data and share their conclusions and questions. There are various topics that groups are curious about — from lichen or moss, to bird behavior and effects of a recent fire on the tree species. Teachers take on the work of scientists so they can get a feel for the experience their students will have in the future.
Teachers often want to backwards plan, knowing the end product their students will experience and learn. But this type of scientific inquiry requires us to let go of control so that students can ask authentic, meaningful questions that are not yet answered. Teachers come to learn that teaching the process of science is often more valuable than teaching the content. They are engaging in the work of true scientists and learning how to be curious, lifelong learners along the way. Being a part of inspiring projects and trips such as these is an experience that teachers, students, and even parent volunteers will remember for years to come. As an upper elementary teacher myself, I often hear about the power of our work when families come back to visit and reminisce about their time in my classroom. I know that this work will impact future generations and their enthusiasm for science learning. Not only that, we are teaching students to do, read and understand the work of a scientist so they can make informed choices in their adult lives.
Every time I help lead this workshop, I witness a transformation among the participants over the course of the three days. On the last day we give a feedback form which is always filled with so much enthusiasm for taking the learning back to the classroom and to colleagues; I often hear this is the best professional development they have experienced in a long time because it is so practical and hands-on. One of my favorite parts about the Diack field science workshops is witnessing the teacher’s excitement for learning about nature that I know will be passed on to students back in the classroom. Twice a year we meet at a beautiful location in Oregon where teachers from many different districts have the opportunity to carry out the mini-inquiry project and plan curriculum that promotes student-driven, field based science inquiry for K-12 students.
Perhaps one of the most significant outcomes of the Diack Ecology Workshop is the formation of a community of educators passionate about outdoor learning. Teachers exchange ideas, share success stories, and collaborate on developing resources for implementing field-based inquiry projects. They share ideas across grade levels to get a sense of where their students are going and have come from. This sense of community not only strengthens the impact of the program but also creates a support network for educators venturing into the world of environmental education. I always leave the workshop inspired by the creativity, collaboration, and joy from teachers. It is one of my favorite parts of the summer and I would encourage anyone who works with students to come join us and experience the magic.
Tina Allahverdian is passionate about connecting students with science in the natural world. When not teaching fifth graders, she can be found reading in a hammock, kayaking through Pacific Northwest waters, or hiking in the mountains. She currently teaches in West Linn, Oregon, and resides in SE Portland with her husband, twin boys, and their dog, Nalu.