Academic Focus in the Classroom Courtesy & Copyright Joseph Kozlowski, PhotographerAcademic Focus in the Outdoors Courtesy & Copyright Joseph Kozlowski, PhotographerA recent educational outdoor experience (I’ll call field experience) with a homeschooled family, prompted me to reflect on the balance between academic focus and student-exploration when teaching outdoors. Yes, some balance of the two is necessary. In the extreme case of too explicit of academic focus, why be outdoors at all and not just at school in desks? Why all the logistics and planning to transport kids to some outdoor location then sit them at a picnic table to complete worksheets about some science-based academic standard, when you could do that all at school? In the other extreme, if you ‘let kids run free’ for the entirety of the field experience, they’ll have fun and make discoveries, but they will likely miss the intentional connections to curriculum that made the trip academically justifiable. So, when you take kids to learn outdoors, what is the right balance between academic focus and student-exploration and how can the instructor support such a balance?
In my experience, the way to think about this balance isn’t so much as a mixing of the two, but more of a time sequence. Here’s what I’ve found works well.
Prior to the field experience, formal academic focus should be the priority. Students should engage in academic activities that set them up to make explicit academic connections when they go to the field.
Then, when in the field, emphasis should be on student-exploration, and priority should be given to fostering children’s wonder, discovery, and inquiry about nature. Importantly, the instructor plays a vital role in in the field in helping refine student-exploration so it leads to academic connections. One major role of the instructor in the field is to arrange an outdoor experience that will likely lead to an encounter with the academic material that was previously focused on. For example, if you had academically focused on animals taking advantage of their habitats to survive, you may want to take children to a specific area that might have downed trees from a gnawing beaver so as to naturally lead kids to make their own nature to academic connections. Another major role of the instructor in the field needs to be expertly observing the kids engaging in the environment and noticing when there is an opportunity to highlight a child’s nature-to-academic connection, or prompt children to make such connections.
Finally, after the field experience, attention should shift back to academic focus in the form of documentation, which will help children formally connect their experiences in the outdoors to the academic topic they are learning about.
So, whether you’re a homeschooled family, related to the public- or private-school sector, or even just a parent considering how to make the most of an outdoor opportunity, consider this balance between formal academic focus and student-centered exploration in the wild Utah outdoors.
This is Dr. Joseph Kozlowski and I am Wild about Outdoor Education in Utah!
Spawn Creek Beaver Dam and Pond Courtesy and Copyright Bethany Neilson, PhotographerFinding a beaver dam gives me a sense of discovery and connects me to the past. I fondly remember my parents pointing out dams when we drove up Logan canyon. Instinctively, we’d scan, hoping to see the animals that built and maintained those structures. When we talked about beaver dams, the conversation often turned to trappers who would rendezvous and re-supply in the Bear Lake and Cache valleys. We lived where history had happened, and I was eager to know more.
Years later, inspired by a history class, I read Dale Morgan’s Jedediah Smith and the Opening of the West. Morgan followed the travels of Smith and his fellow trappers who answered William Ashley’s 1822 ad in the Missouri Gazette requesting “ONE HUNDRED MEN, to ascend the river Missouri to its source, there to be employed for one, two, or three years….”
North American beaver (Castor canadensis) Courtesy US FWS, Larry Palmer, PhotographerAshley’s troop competed with the Hudson’s Bay Company, the American Fur Company and several native indigenous tribes, all trapping beaver. The story sounds familiar: beaver pelts, and later bird feathers, were used to create hats, and the movement to harvest them led to a significant decline in numbers. For the birds, this decline led to building refuges and other conservation efforts. But the plight of the beaver continued downhill as exploration and discovery encouraged an influx of settlers. For the next century, the remaining beaver were regarded by those settlers as invasive land-grabbers, in competition with efforts to direct water, mine and irrigate.
However, today beavers are gaining more respect as we better understand the benefits of their skills in supporting wildlife and wetland conservation. Researchers at Utah State University, including Joe Wheaton and Nick Bouwes of the Department of Watershed Sciences, are studying habitat improvement after beaver introduction as a cost-effective way to combat drought and fire.
Spawn Creek Beaver Dams Courtesy & Copyright Joe Wheaton, PhotographerThey have repeatedly demonstrated, over the past few years, that beaver families can be introduced and thrive behind fabricated beaver dam analogues(BDAs). After release into the resulting ponds, the beavers take over maintenance and produce their own dams. Over time, these dams and their rodent engineers improve stream flows, raise water tables, and cool water temperatures.
In essence, active beaver dams create Mesic habitats where the land maintains a well-balanced supply of moisture throughout the growing season. These dams slow spring run-off as they retain water in ponds and the surrounding soil, thereby, securing water for fish, trees, birds and wildlife. The best part is that the beavers do the maintenance.
Installing Beaver Dam Analogues Post Fire Rehabilitation Rio Cabolla, Santa Fe National Forest, Courtesy USDA Forest Service
Completed Beaver Dam Analogues, Rio Cabolla, Santa Fe National Forest, Courtesy USDA Forest ServiceWhen wildfires occur, beaver oases preserve wildlife and habitat. However, if beaver and their habitats don’t exist in an area before a fire, they can still play a role. By retaining water with beaver dam analogs, we can create wetlands conducive to beaver habitat. In Joe Wheaton’s words, “We can’t dump beaver into a watershed that has burnt to the ground and expect them to do the restoration of degraded streams on their own…. What we can do post-fire is accelerate recovery with low-tech structures that make it easier to more quickly get beaver into an area and accelerate recovery. We’d like to help them do that.” (Utah State Magazine, Winter 2019, p.12)
To learn more about how birds, beaver and water are key to the understanding and improvement of our environment, and to find ways to get involved, check out this story on this wildaboututah.org.
I’m Lyle Bingham for Bridgerland Audubon, and I’m Wild About Utah
Prettyman, Brett, Dolling (SLTRIB), Justin(UT DWR), Beavers in Utah, Creators of Habitat, The Salt Lake Tribune & Utah DWR, Oct 15, 2009 https://youtu.be/cMhaYRNLTno
Utah’s population of beaver has recovered since the days when they were trapped by mountain men, but some people wonder if moving beaver to traditional habitats may help deal with drought.
Seedling Courtesy Pixabay Lukas Johnns, ContributorThe perfume of gasping stomata begins my morning as I walk outside to greet the day. Inhale, exhale. It is that greatest of olfactory medicinals that suddenly wakes my mind, like a winterworn cabin whose windows and doors are flung open with abandon on its first day of spring. Fresh air pools in the hidden nooks, waking joy, gratefulness, and a new awareness of how many dog turds are still hidden in the yard, waiting for the right moment to let slip.
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When cool wind turns to warm breeze, my bones smile and the instinct to bundle and shy slowly melts away to the instinct of heliotropic embrace. The pigeon of spring comes by wing, always knowing its way, homing home. That’s pretty coo.
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As midday crests, the sun’s rays pull blood to the surface of my skin; a solar tide upon my iron waters. My face warms and toasts, my nostrils flare, and the robin’s randy hollers turns to but a bard’s flitting ballad in my ear. The romance of hope becomes assumed as spring supplants the desperation of hungry winter.
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The days are long and the season is short, but it is in the shoulders of reckoning that I am reminded of why this time of year brings me so much joy. Spring is a season of moments. Summer is the antithesis of winter’s torpor, in which we hum with consistency and labor, ourselves bumbling away with carefree speed. Fall does not counter spring, but I feel is instead the days contrarianist of long tooth. Days shorten yet time waxes poetic. We catch our cool breezes and prepare for the winter slumber. It is the deserved nightcap at the end of a day fulfilled. Winter does slow us, but moreso is our dream season. The world changes shapes and forms to alien familiarity, like seeing a dear cousin after many years, grown haggard by way of smiling crows feet.
Spring, though, again, is the moments. When our eyes flutter awake with birdsong; when light comes before alarms; when we begin to manifest all we longed for during the dreamt night. We finish planning our gardens, mapping our adventures, and listing our chores across the land. We dot our teas and cross our eyes as theory blossoms to reality and all its unexpected bliss. We prepare and deliver the gift of dirty hands to the world, to our home, to our other living neighbors. We smile inadvertently at ladybirds as our winter beaks creak, and joy finds us in the family reunion of shared coexistence.
So this spring, don’t forget to let the moments find you, and when they do, take a second of your own to appreciate this one and only shared world. Smell the hope of longer days, and fulfill the promised smile of chores well-laid and well-done. Get dirty, smelly, tore up, and tired. Scoop poop. Plant seeds. Watch the world’s moments become memories, and memories become you.
Rio Tinto Kennecott Bingham Canyon Mine Courtesy & Copyright Mary Heers, Photographer Bingham Canyon Mine from the International Space Station 2007. This astronaut photograph ISS015-E-29867 was acquired September 20, 2007, by the Expedition 15 crew with a Kodak 760C digital camera using an 800 mm lens. The image is provided by the ISS Crew Earth Observations experiment and the Image Science & Analysis Laboratory, Johnson Space Center. The image in this article has been cropped and enhanced to improve contrast. Courtesy NASA
Kennecott Mine from Outside Courtesy & Copyright Mary Heers, PhotographerYears ago, I was flying in an airplane headed into Salt Lake when the captain came on the intercom and suggested we look out the windows. Below us was a truly huge hole in the ground. This was my first look at the Kennecott open pit copper mine.
In 1847, when Brigham Young and the first Mormon pioneers arrived in the Utah territory, this bit of land we were flying over was an 8,000ft mountain, part of the range the Native Americans called the Oquirrhs. Back then two brothers were grazing their cattle in these mountains when they noticed some gold that had washed down the mountain and settled in a sandy stream bed. They took the gold and showed it to Brigham Young. Brigham Young told them to “forget it.” Growing food for the survival of the settlers was his top priority.
The Bingham boys went back to grazing cattle, but by 1873 the news had gotten out that there was gold in these hills. People started to move in, many of them recent immigrants. The Finns and Swedes settled up Carr Canyon, while the Austrians and Slavs settled near the Highland Boy mine. The town of Bingham grew up around 30 saloons, its many brothels , as well as many boarding houses where single men rented a room and took their meals. I really enjoyed reading a memoir written by Violet Boyce, whose Aunt Becky ran one of these boarding houses. She tells us the softer side of life in the early mining town, like one miner, Pete Kalvos, who had a beloved pet magpie. Now this bird was the chief suspect when Aunt Becky’s thimble, teaspoons, and jeweled pin disappeared. Aunt Becky got so mad she took the bird outside and told it to “git.” Joe moped around the house until the bird returned. Luckily by then Aunt Becky had cooled off, because some repair work on the chimney had revealed the magpie nest and all the missing items.
Everything changed in Bingham Canyon in 1906 when new entrepreneurs and engineers decided the real future of the canyon was in copper, and the best way to get it out was with an open pit mine. Dynamite started blasting away the hillsides. Violet writes how vases were knocked off shelves and pictures turned sideways on the walls in her house. As the mine kept expanding, the walls of her house crumbled. Eventually the whole town was devoured.
Nowadays, if you go to the Visitor Center at the Kennecott mine, you can stand on the viewing platform on the upper lip of the huge bowl-shaped pit. It’s a breath taking 2 ½ miles wide, ¾ of a mile deep – and still getting bigger. Trucks the size of two-story houses lumber up the inside of the bowl carrying away the newly blasted debris. It now takes 2 tons of this mix of rock, dirt and ore to eventually produce 9 pounds of pure copper.
The story of this giant hole in the ground is woven into Utah’s history, but it’s also left its mark on our planet Earth. The Kennecott open pit copper mine is one of a handful of man-made structures that can be seen from the International Space Station as it passes over us, 250 miles away.
