Introducing…Cohort 12!

Discover the new faces of the M.S. of Environmental Education Program:

Whitney Anderson is a native Oregonian. Her upbringing was rooted in the exploration of endless wilderness opportunities. Through outdoor adventure, she developed a curiosity for her local aquatic life and habitats. However, study abroad experience in high school took her to faraway places. The travel bug had bitten her, leading her to earn her Bachelor’s degree in International Studies from the University of Oregon. But, her care for the environment never waned. Upon graduating, she began working for the Bureau of Land Management as a River Ranger on Oregon’s Wild and Scenic Rivers. Various other experiences, including teaching salmon education programs and helping with threatened fish species research, made her realize that her true aspiration was to help others cultivate an innate fascination with the environment as well.

Marina Bohn grew up in a small town in the East Bay of California, exploring the oak woodlands, creeks and open space of Mt Diablo State Park. She always loved water and was on the swim team since she was 5 years old. Her love for water led her to the University of California Santa Barbara to get her Bachelors of Science in Hydrology with an emphasis on Ecology and Biology. She developed a deep love for the ocean with surfing, freediving, kayaking and traveling as her favorite activities. The ocean is one of her greatest teachers and led her to be a sea cave kayak guide and naturalist for 6 years in Channel Islands National Park. Being a guide developed her passion to teach people about science and their environment and she later landed with a Santa Barbara nonprofit, Wilderness Youth Project. This nonprofit focuses on nature connection and instilling appreciation of and confidence in nature for children. The relationships she developed inspired her to continue her education at Southern Oregon University in the Master of Science in Environmental Education as well as a Masters of Arts in Teaching for Single Subject Biology. She hopes to inspire people to love science as much as she does and to one day start a school.

Courtney Buel originally hails from the San Francisco Bay Area. While living in California, she earned her Bachelor of Science in Marine Biology from the University of California, Santa Cruz. There she learned how to scuba-dive in the kelp forests of Monterey and enjoy the therapeutic benefits of being surrounded by nature. This passion ultimately led her to spend a summer on Catalina Island, teaching children how to scuba dive and identify marine species. After that summer, she became a marine science educator in San Francisco, teaching students about the ocean and connecting them with an environment that she loves dearly. She is also pursuing a Certificate in Nonprofit Management and hopes to one day be a Director of a marine science conservation nonprofit. In her free time, she likes to explore and enjoy nature with friends (and of course, splash in the ocean!).

Andy Dwyer is an upstate New York native where he remembers fun times with family and friends in the Adirondack Mountains. While pursuing his undergraduate degree in Horticulture from Oregon State University, he moved to Bend, OR with his wife. There he completed an internship in restoration horticulture. For five years, they lived in Bend, finished their degrees together, and started a native plant nursery and restoration business. An enjoyable part of his work was running volunteer groups, educating the public on land use, and working in environmental education with local schools on Central Oregon watersheds. The fun stuff of his business led him to SOU’s MS in Environmental Education program. The cohort model, hands-on approach of the program, and the development for Fall in the Field is inspiring. In his free time, he enjoys road-tripping, camping with his family, strolling around town with his 2-year-old son, Grahm, and board gaming with the cohort.

Karina Hassell comes from the “bridge of the world, heart of the universe,” also known as Panama. From a young age, this city girl was encouraged to explore her surroundings through science. Following her love for science and due to Panama’s strategic location, she studied Maritime Transportation Engineering at the Universidad Tecnológica de Panamá. She later obtained a Bachelor of Science in Geology from the University of Arkansas. However, it was through varied professional opportunities that she found a way to combine all her passions: science, education, and development. Witnessing firsthand the tremendous impact a good educator can have in a child’s life, she decided to pursue a Master in Environmental Education. She is thrilled to be part of Cohort 12 and ready to absorb as much knowledge from the program and region. Her goal is to provide learning opportunities for those who are curious and especially for those who are socially disadvantaged.

Sunya Ince-Johannsen received her undergraduate degree in Environmental Studies: Ecology and Conservation from Southern Oregon University. She is now pursuing a double Masters in Environmental Education and Teaching. In her free time, she loves snowboarding, hiking with her dogs, botanizing, and kitesurfing! 

Michael Kaufman is from Menlo Park, CA. Michael completed his undergraduate studies at Texas Christian University, where he received a BS in Environmental Science and a minor in Human-Animal Relations. He is pursuing the Masters Teaching program for Single Subject Integrated Sciences in addition to the Masters in Environmental Education. He is a self-proclaimed semi-professional napper, an avid lover of all things Disney, and a volleyball player since he was 10. Lastly, he has a passion for animal studies, namely mammals and reptiles, and one day would like to teach high school animal sciences.

Brenda Miller spent her undergrad days at the University of Puget Sound in Tacoma, Washington. There she got her Bachelor of Science in Biology with a double major in Music. Brenda is also pursuing a Certificate of Nonprofit Management in addition to her Master’s degree. She loves to bird and cuddle with her ball python Cosmo. In addition to these hobbies, she also performs as a concert pianist.

Nora Seymour grew up in Massachusetts exploring the woods behind her house. She discovered her passion for environmental education while leading field trips in the permaculture garden at the University of Massachusetts, Amherst, where she received her BS in Sustainable Food and Farming. Since then she has continued to grow food, curiosity, and a love for nature with kids of all ages. Nora is excited to be a part of the thriving environmental education community in Southern Oregon. She is also adding on the Certificate in Nonprofit Management. In her spare time, you can find Nora adventuring outside with her partner and dog or at a bluegrass concert! 

Maya Shoemaker was born and raised in Santa Barbara and was blessed to spend her childhood exploring around her family home in the mountains, traveling around Central America and Mexico, homeschooling by a creek, and enjoying time in nature every day. She received a Bachelor of Science degree from The Evergreen State College in Olympia, Washington, with an emphasis on Environmental Education and Evolutionary Biology. After graduating, she spent a year traveling and volunteering in Europe and Asia. Her time included working on farms in Turkey, bringing underserved Nepali children outside for sit spots, trekking through the Himalayas, and working with Vietnamese children with disabilities. She has worked for over ten years with a nature-based mentoring non-profit called Wilderness Youth Project. She is currently pursuing a Master’s of Science in Environmental Education and a Masters of Arts in Teaching at SOU, as well as serving as the Farm Education Coordinator at the SOU Farm. In her free time, she loves to practice acro yoga, make things with her hands, sing, dance, and explore nature with friends.

Monique Streit grew up in Yosemite and Grand Canyon National Park and spent her free time exploring the woods and trails within the park. This has sparked a love of nature and all national park sites. A goal of hers is to visit all national parks someday. She spent many years working for the National Park Service as an interpretive ranger and in the maintenance division, creating signs for roads and trails in the national park. Monique has always had a passion for teaching and received a Bachelor of Science in Elementary Education from Northern Arizona University in Flagstaff, AZ. From there, she taught 4th grade for five years, but specifically math and science for the last two years. While teaching, Monique organized an outdoor and environmental club for third through fifth graders. Students developed a deeper understanding of the environments surrounding the school, learned about native plants and animals in Northern Arizona, and helped maintain an outdoor classroom and wildlife and nature trail on the school campus. Her love of nature and education has led her to pursue an M.S. in Environmental Education from SOU. She hopes to inspire a love of learning and an appreciation for our environment in people of all ages through environmental education!

Sami Wolniakowski feels that educating and caring for children is second nature to her. As a teenager, she became a certified ski instructor and taught children and adults of all ages how to downhill ski. In these years, she discovered her zeal for educating, and this enthusiasm ultimately led her to pursue a B.A. in Education from St. Norbert College in Wisconsin. Entering the world as a new graduate, she started work at the Multnomah County Outdoor School in Oregon. After this position, she worked as a naturalist/science teacher at Teton Science School in Jackson, Wyoming, for two years. During her time spent at Teton Science School, she was able to discover the importance of utilizing the outdoor environment as her classroom. She is excited to pursue her Master’s of Environmental Education at SOU and looks forward to continuing her development and growth as an educator.

Jessica Zuzack grew up in rural Pennsylvania, exploring the fields, forests, and creeks in her backyard.  Her love of connecting to nature and optimism for finding solutions to environmental issues led her to earn a Bachelor of Arts in Environmental Sustainability at Philadelphia University.  She gained valuable experience in sustainable food systems, conservation, and community partnership from AmeriCorps VISTA volunteer work, an internship abroad, and work with the Natural Resources Conservation Service. She is very excited to be a part of the Masters of Environmental Education program and looks forward to a future of engaging kids of all ages in outdoor learning. In her free time, she enjoys spending time outdoors, yoga, dance, cooking, and knitting.

Cohort 10, Hello!

As the weather begins to change from summer to fall in Ashland, a new cohort of graduate students has settled in to the program at SOU. Find out more about theam and what brought them to our program!

Laura Bergner grew up in North Carolina, spending a good part of her childhood catching salamanders in the Appalachian Mountains. After leaving her hometown, she discovered that her true passion is helping children explore the outdoors and live in a way that feels connected to nature. Laura spent her early twenties managing farms and developing sustainable living skills in Oregon, Colorado, and New Mexico, as well as spending several years as an early childhood educator.

Living in a variety of places left her with a great love and respect for the Pacific Northwest, and in 2014 she left the southwest for good to study Biology at Southern Oregon University. She was so impressed by the diversity of life found in this tiny part of the world that she decided to stay here after receiving her Bachelor’s in Science and attend the Environmental Education Master’s program.

Laura is excited to bring her passion for nature to a community that is so driven to protect the environment and give children access to the outdoors. When she is not learning or teaching, she prefers to spend time with her enormous dog in open fields.

India Bolding grew up in the suburbs of San Francisco exploring the tide pools and redwood forests. She’s always viewed nature as a unifying force; anyone can find something they’re excited about, something to geek out about when they explore nature. She wants to help kids find that enthusiasm that was inspired by her parents at a young age. She believes that if kids get to immerse themselves with nature and learn the science that explains what they’re seeing they’ll develop a life long love for the environment. This encourages them to think and care for more than just themselves, ultimately making caring and thoughtful people that want to help the world.

Paige Engelbrektsson is a Virginia native who grew up finding the wonder in the wild places around her suburban neighborhood and childhood barn. After graduating with a B.S. in Biology from the College of William and Mary, she was elbow-deep in assisting museum researchers when she discovered two things. One, teaching visitors about the new and intriguing natural history facts she uncovered offered its own kind of wonder. Two, there was an entire country full of awe-inspiring, truly wild spaces she could live and teach in. So began a cross-country trip that has lasted four years and counting. From guiding backcountry pack trips in Yellowstone National Park to teaching outdoor afterschool programs as an AmeriCorps member in North Carolina, Paige’s pursuit of sharing the wonder of the natural world has led her through a checklist of mountain ranges and ultimately to SOU. She looks forward to using the skills and knowledge she will gain through the program to lead educational programming for audiences of all ages in even more beautiful wild places.

Angie Gornik is a Minnesotan from her accent to her snow driving abilities. She spent endless hours as a child running around barefoot both in her backyard and at summer camp. Angie attended Northwestern College in Orange City, Iowa and received degrees in Biology and Spanish. During her college years she called many places home from the tall grass prairie of Iowa, to the farm she worked on in Costa Rica, to the volcanoes of Ecuador, to the summer heat of Nicaragua, to the bayou of Louisiana. Angie blames her Costa Rican host mom, Doña Fatima, for igniting her love for environmental education and showing her what loving people and a place looks like.  Upon graduating in December of 2016 Angie packed up her car and moved to Southern California to teach at an outdoor education institute. Nature exploration, outdoor adventure, and the laughter of students became an integral part of her life and pursing her Masters in Environmental Education became a part of her journey. Angie never ceases to be amazed by ferns and can’t wait to achieve her goal of visiting every National Park within the next 10 years.

Anna Kennedy grew up in a small town in Northern California, surrounded by redwoods, the Russian River, and a wild backyard full of endless possibilities. Whether hiking along the coast, camping in the redwoods, or building tree-forts, she found tranquility, inspiration, and a fascination for life in the great outdoors. This early love and curiosity led her Anna to pursue a degree from UC Davis in Wildlife, Fish, and Conservation Biology. Over the summers Anna worked as a Trips Guide at Skylake Yosemite Camp, leading kids on day and multiday backpacking adventures in the Sierras. Her longing to be outside and learn everything about the natural world evolved into a desire to help educate and engage children outdoors. After graduation, Anna continued to work with youth as a Montessori Assistant Teacher and as a summer Camp Director. This love for educating children and helping them build a relationship with nature is what guided Anna to the MS in Environmental Education program at SOU. Anna is loving exploring the incredible wilderness and biodiversity of Southern Oregon, and looks forward to continuing to combine her love for education and for being outdoors in a life-long career as an environmental educator.

Sarah Norton was born and raised in upstate New York. Growing up, an interest and wonder about nature was instilled in her as she explored creeks and hiked with her family. Sarah graduated from Paul Smith’s College in the Adirondack mountains with a Bachelor’s degree in Fisheries and Wildlife Science. It was during her undergrad that she found a passion for raptor research and conservation. For the next eight years, she traveled around the country working various field jobs focused on avian research. From jumping in swamps for Snail Kite surveys in the Everglades National Park to trapping and banding Golden Eagles in the Rocky Mountains of Montana, Sarah has pursued her passion while also meeting amazing people along the way. After working with such diverse communities, Sarah discovered a lack of understanding between the public and scientific community. She also realized her greatest joy was interacting with the public and sharing experiences of her work. Finding her calling, Sarah switched her career to focus on environmental education. While pursuing her degree at SOU and beyond, Sarah hopes to bridge the gap between the public and scientific community through education programs and citizen science projects.

Sujan Subedi is from Pokhara, Nepal. Growing up in the tourism capital of Nepal, he was always attracted to hiking and camping. His inborn proclivity towards nature and environment was complemented by a BSC degree from Institute of Forestry in Forestry where he participated in various plantation programs, cleanliness programs, conservation rallies and extension programs. Later after graduation, he followed up on his education by joining several seminars, trainings and workshops organized by green groups such as Federation of Community Forestry User group Nepal (FECOFUN), National Youth for Climate Action (NYCA), and Clean Energy Nepal (CEN). His area of interest is studying the relationship and interactions between natural and human systems to better understand the world around him. He hopes to use his previous knowledge and the knowledge he obtains from S.O.U. to teach the next generation about the importance of forest management and sustainability for the future.

Ellie Thompson developed her love for nature and the outdoors at a very young age. As soon as she could walk, she began exploring the family farm in Eugene, Oregon and the ponds behind her house—collecting flowers, insects, and minnows to observe and marvel at. Her family vacations consisted of camping and hiking all over Oregon, spending days kayaking the remote Owyhee River, and visiting many natural history museums; learning about the land and its native flora and fauna. Her inquisitive mind and passion for learning about the world around her drove her to pursue a degree in biology at Portland State University. While she loved her major, she wasn’t sure what career to pursue after college. It wasn’t until she stood on the banks of the Kinabatangan River, in Malaysian Borneo, that she realized what she wanted to do. Witnessing the devastation of one of the oldest tropical rainforests in the world was a powerful experience that lit a fire of passion for conservation and education in her. She is excited to work to light that same fire in people of all ages after she graduates from Southern Oregon University’s Environmental Education program.

Alyssa Wiens grew up just outside of the Birthplace of Rock ’n Roll, Memphis, TN. Growing up, most of her free time was spent playing underneath the giant oaks in her backyard. Her love of nature and working with kids led her to pursue a degree in Environmental Conservation at Mississippi State University. She soon realized that measuring how many 2×4’s you can get out of a tree was not her calling and decided to switch majors. Careful deliberation led her to obtaining a degree in Wildlife, Fisheries and Aquaculture where she got to learn all the plants and animals, but didn’t have to measure any of them. During her undergrad, an internship with the U.S. Forest Service at Land Between the Lakes NRA in Kentucky solidified her path to becoming an environmental educator. She headed north after graduation to Wisconsin to work as an instructor for Nature’s Classroom Institute, a residential environmental education program for schools. Desiring a degree in what she intends to do with her life, Alyssa made the trek to SOU and is finally fulfilling her dream of living in the Pacific NW. She looks forward to a lifetime of inspiring children to love this planet we call home.

Heather Wilson grew up in the suburbs of St. Louis, Missouri. Nature was very tame in the suburbs, but she got her wilderness fix through her family’s frequent travels. (She still suffers from the travel bug to this day.) Visiting parks and experiencing nature all over the country showed her the power and importance of wilderness. Enthralled with the natural world, Heather studied Biology at Iowa State University. During her undergraduate career, she discovered a joy for teaching others through tutoring and teaching assistantships. After graduating, Heather decided to take on a new kind of educational role as a park guide intern at Mammoth Cave National Park. Guiding thousands of visitors through the world’s longest cave was an incredible learning experience, and gave Heather all kinds of exciting skills and confidence. She took these skills back home to St. Louis where she worked as an interpretation assistant at the Missouri Botanical Garden. Heather knew she had found something great, and decided she wanted to learn more. She applied to the Environmental Education program at Southern Oregon University and the rest is history!

Lessons From the Edge of the Earth

“What do you think? About a three?” Casandra, a young woman my age, asked. I rose from my seated position by the furnace, my seven layers of clothing making my movement a bit awkward. It was cold, very cold. As I crossed the aisle to where she was standing the tundra buggy shook again. I caught myself on the back of a seet.

A tundra buggy looks like a giant bus set on monster truck wheels. It’s built to weather the harsh elements of Churchill Manitoba’s high tundra. It’s built like a tank; hard, thick, impenetrable. But the creature rocking our buggy was evolved, without a furnace or strong metal or giant tires, to persist here. He was certainly no pushover either.

the Tundra Buggy

Casandra, intensely focused on the body fat index sheet, had barely moved. I made it to the window and peered down at a large male polar bear. Our tour group was breaking for a lunch of hot soup. The smell must have been irresistible. He stood now on his back legs, his nose reaching up ten feet above ground, seeking the source of the tempting scent. His forepaws braced against the cold metal of the tundra buggy.  His shoulders tensed. I braced.

The buggy shook again, back and forth like ship on rough waters. He was testing us, trying to figure out if he had a chance. The buggy held steady. It was built to take on bears even bigger than this one. Our bear came to the same conclusion. He sat back on his haunches to consider his next move.

“Definitely a three,” I agreed.

I scribbled it down in our chart. The body fat index was meant to give us an indication of the condition of the Churchill polar bears. The chart ranged from 1 (incredibly skinny) to 5 (quite fat). Three was very good for this time of year. It was November, the end of months of fasting. Polar bears are lipivores, meaning that they eat fat. Their prey, mostly seals and small whales, lives out in the ocean, so they can only hunt when the water becomes covered in a thick ice sheet. When the ice melts they are trapped on land without food until the ice returns.

This is where people come in. We’ve all heard the news and the commercials and the general upset over the sad state of the polar bear. As the earth warms the ice melts sooner and takes longer to reform. The polar bears are stranded for longer and longer. The buggy drivers confirmed that the ice should have been back by now, and that they had seen fewer bears this year than last.

I reached over to the back seat and pulled out a strange contraption; a camera set in the center of two parallel black metal bars with a laser pointer on either side. Churchill is the front line. It’s here, in the southernmost reaches of their range, that scientists hope to study the first effects of climate change on polar bears.

You see, polar bears are actually rather hard to find and track. It takes a lot of money, a lot of effort, and a lot of nerve. That in mind, it’s not surprising that there’s not a lot of data out there. That’s where people come in yet again.

As our polar bear wandered a short distance away, I turned the lasers on.  Casandra took over, maneuvering our crude device to try and get both laser points on the bear. When she had succeeded, she took a picture. This was the most vital part of her data collection. It was her hope that this tool would allow us to figure out the size of a bear based on a photograph.

If she was successful, it would mean that polar bear researchers could employ an army of citizen scientists. People come from across the world to snap just a single photo of a polar bear. If those same people send researchers their photos, we get an incredible database of the population throughout the season.

So where does that get us? Can ordinary citizens save the polar bear? I don’t know. In the end, it’s the choice of ordinary citizens whether or not to use cloth bags, to recycle, to conserve light and electricity, to carpool or walk, or not to do any of those things. It’s choices like those that got us into this mess, and the world can’t change unless ordinary people change it. It’s a way of thinking that’s always been said, but has seldom been believed.

I know the news said a while back that we’ve done irreversible (at least on our time scale) damage to the glaciers. The Churchill population and the people who make their living off the polar bears may be operating on borrowed time. But the information that comes from citizen scientists can help us answer the question that’s on all of our minds. Will they make it? Could they survive the actions of another species carried out far away from their icy world?  What’s really going to happen to the polar bears?

Our large male had wandered off towards the willows, likely looking for a place to bed down for the evening. All that was left of him was a long line of tracks leading back towards the ocean. The water was finally starting to freeze over. This male, at least, would likely make it back home to the frozen waters far away from any solid ground. He would feast on seals and seek out females until the warming seasons forced him back here, where he would wait for the ice once more.

The tundra buggy was quiet now. Everyone was reflecting on the creature they had just encountered. Each held a different impression, but it was easy to see in their faces that they had all been awed and inspired. It was the encounter of a lifetime.

People are powerful, whether we think so or not. As our world becomes more technological, and information becomes increasingly easy to access, the citizen scientist becomes ever more valuable, ever more influential, a true force of nature. We have our doubts and our fears, but through the power of knowledge and self education, we can overcome any obstacle.

The polar bear knows little doubt. He knows the ice will come. He knows this because it has always come. As I watched the setting sun turn the snowy tundra a soft pink and orange, I liked to think that he was right.

For more information on this project, visit Polar Bears International’s website.

A Professional Theory

Why did we pick our profession over all others? This is a question that has been rattling around in my head for the last few weeks. We all begin life with nearly infinite possibilities, and over the years we narrow them down until we find ourselves in a single career. Is it something that we choose, or are we destined to our careers? It’s a question that I’m sure has sent many a philosopher into thought upon thought.  But how often do we, as everyday red-blooded Americans, think about the” why” behind our choice?

If you are anything like me you don’t think about the why of it very often. And when you do, your brain starts to hurt and you have to lie down for a bit. I’ve always seen this question as a challenge, and I must defend my choice. I’ll launch into long-winded dissertations about how the wonder of nature inspired me to share it with others, how this planet is ours and we need to care for it, or that seeing the “aha moment” in my students eyes is why I chose Environmental Education. However, I’ve developed a universal theory that is much simpler than all that.

On Friday February 27th one of my classes took a snowshoeing trip to Crater Lake National Park. The park was covered in snow, the visibility was minimal, and the wind was bitter cold. In the midst of these harsh winter conditions my theory began to take shape. We went on a 2mile hike with a Park Ranger and learned a little bit about how the plants, animals, and even the lake are impacted by the forces of winter. As we trekked along on our snowshoes, stomping down hard so as not to slide down the slopes, I started putting some pieces of my theory together.

Our hike provided gorgeous views of snow covered meadows bounded by glistening Mountain Hemlock. Even when we were hiking through clouds the views were still beautiful, if in a more ominous way. The first piece of my theory clicked into place, as I realized that there are few other professions that would allow me to call a day of snowshoeing “professional development”.

As we walked on, our guide told us about the different adaptations that plants and animals have to survive the harsh winters at Crater Lake. Did you know that Golden-Mantled Ground Squirrels lower their body temperature to 39 degrees when they hibernate?! I even got to wrestle a young limber Mountain Hemlock to the ground to demonstrate how they can bend under the weight of snow and not break. Piece two was added to my growing theory. Knowledge of the natural world is what inspires me to learn more and make myself a better person. If I wasn’t always learning something new about the natural world, I would be terribly bored.

After the hike we gathered in the second story of one of the few open buildings at Crater Lake to discuss the performance of our guide. Our discussion took us through how you develop a theme, challenges of teaching during winter, how to read audiences, and how to keep a presentation fresh. The theory grew further during this talk. Discussing the art of teaching and learning how to convey your thoughts speaks to the communicator in me as well as the perfectionist. If you are going to do something you love, then you better do it right.

These three things were swirling around in my head as we pulled out of the parking lot. Maybe as we pulled out the driver stopped too suddenly or that last brain-cell finally decided to fire, but whatever it was my grand unifying theory of why we pick our professions came to me in a flash. When I looked at the simplicity of my theory I couldn’t believe how obvious it was, but here it is. We pick our careers for the sheer fun of them! For me, the only way the day could have been better is if I had a group of my own to present to. Every part of that day made me come alive with joy. I started to realize that all of the things surrounding Environmental Education are fun for me. Even sitting in meetings trying to determine what kind of t-shirts we should have are fun.

Hopefully that’s how you feel when you think about your career. Whether you be an electrical engineer, social worker, architect, or professional stay at home parent we all do these crazy things because they are fun for us. I’m sure the day I described above would be boring to some, but a day running computer simulations on the tensile strength of steel or flying a plane from city to city would not hold the same allure for me as I’m sure it does for industrial engineers and pilots respectively. So I wrote this blog to honor not overthinking things for once. The next time someone asks you why you do what you do, or you’re in the midst of an existential crisis I hope you look deep inside of yourself, hold your head up high, and answer with “I do it because it’s fun!” And for those of you who are still searching for a career or honestly can’t answer with “because it’s fun” I urge you to search for your fun, whatever it may be. Life is far too short not to have fun in your career. And that’s my professional theory.

Humbled by Giants

Last weekend, my grandma and I escaped the fog that had blanketed the Rogue Valley for days, venturing beyond Cave Junction, to where the road winds down the diverse rock formations and forests lining the Smith River. We were headed for the coast that I’d had a long overdue reunion with the weekend prior on a field trip. I’d wanted to go back as soon as I’d left and took the opportunity to do so, while at the same time share many of the things I have learned over the course my time here in Oregon.

Our first stop was a short botanical trail that led to an unadvertised wonder.

Darlingtonia

The scene on our arrival could not have been more perfect as the sun broke through and illuminated the delicate features of the sprawling cobra lilies occupying the fen. We both stood in awe. This was only my third encounter with the unique plants and my grandma remarked on how she’d never in her life seen anything quite like it. Energized, we continued on toward the sea, where the noble Coast Redwood trees live. I have been infatuated with the giants since I was first humbled by their presence and could hardly contain my excitement.

But this was abruptly stifled as my grandma said that the last time she’d visited a redwood forest, she’d felt that “once you’d seen one, you’d seen them all.” I nearly swerved off the road as I gasped and searched for a way to respond to such a blow. I composed myself as I resolved that no one who had truly encountered the trees could utter such a thing. I knew then that before we could reach the sand I was aching to dig my toes into, we had to spend time in the forest.

an ensatina

I took the split off of the 199 that takes you just barely into California and the Jedidiah Smith Redwood State Park. I was headed for the Simpson Reed Trail I’d been on a few months earlier. It was short, but I was hopeful that it would be enough. Within our first few minutes on the trail, I was already babbling away about fire resistance, finding amphibians, and chewing on redwood sorrel. Although my grandma wouldn’t touch the slimy creature I’d discovered, she did humor me and try the tangy sorrel leaves. The tallest of the trees scattered the sunlight in warm rays that lit up ancient looking ferns and soft mosses; it was as though the forest were putting forth its best ‘face’ for my grandma. And in less than a mile’s walk, it worked.

When we got back into the car, she turned to me and said,

“Chelsea, thank you. That was truly magnificent. I was wrong, I understand.”

I could have cried. It wasn’t just that she now understood my love for the trees, or even was on her way to developing a love for the forest herself, but the reminder that people don’t need to be convinced of the importance of preserving such natural wonders. More than sharing knowledge and facts, environmental education is about love. Drawn to the enthusiasm you can shamelessly share for what you are passionate about, people’s eyes are more open to see and respect that connection, and they may even begin to develop a passion of their own.

The rest of the day was just as magical. Back across the border into Oregon we spotted a few late southern Gray Whale migrants from Cape Ferrelo and explored the colorful rocky intertidal zone of Harris Beach.

the fluke of a gray whale

So absorbed in exploring the coast, I’d forgotten that I’d mentioned earlier on our redwood forest hike that the largest trees in Jedidiah Smith State Park were along Howland Hill Road, which wound from Crescent City to Hiouchi.

As the late afternoon sun sparkled on the ocean’s calm surface and I began to entertain ideas of never leaving, my grandma again took me by surprise.

“Chelsea, do you think we’d have time to go back the long way along that road from Crescent City?”

My heart nearly burst.

to the Coast

Last weekend, most of Cohort 7 (plus Mandy from Cohort 5!) spent two days exploring the redwoods and the Oregon coast on a field trip for our Natural History class. The course focuses on the Klamath a knot, the unique and diverse bioregion we call home here at SEEC, and includes weekly field trips with the occasional marvelous weekend adventure.

Chaney wrote up another story, illustrated with photos of salamanders and redwoods and tide pools, so check it out here to learn more about what we learned about, and to get inspired for an adventure of your own!

Winter Wonder – Crater Lake

The weather’s looking unseasonably warm and clear this weekend. Need some inspiration to get out and explore? Look no further.

Before heading home to Tennessee for the holidays, Cohort 7’s Chaney Swiney spent a day snowshoeing on the southwest rim of Crater Lake. He wrote about his day, illustrated with numerous photos of the winter scenery, so click here to check it out! And, when you get the chance, get up to Crater Lake and see the winter splendor with your own eyes. Though snow levels are well below average, it’s still worth your visit.

Llao Rock and Mount Thielsen, just after sunrise

An Unexpected Journey

If I had to make a list of the top ten words that describe me, “adventurous” would not be one of them. I’m the kind of person who prefers a quiet night at home with good friends and a bad movie over an excursion to a local rock climbing area. You could even go so far as to say that I’m boring. In fact, I think most of us might describe ourselves that way if we took a realistic look at our lives. We spend hours completing one mind-numbing task after another until we are released to watch television in the comfort of home. It is a very hobbity existence where nothing terribly exciting happens and adventures are for elves and men. Yes, I’m a fan of J.R.R. Tolkien and much like Bilbo Baggins I enjoy nothing more than doing nothing. But a few days ago adventure came knocking at my door, not in the form of a quest giving wizard, but powerful all the same.

On Tuesday January the 6th I received an email from Klamath Bird Observatory asking if I would be able to take part in a shorebird survey that Thursday in Coos Bay. My initial reaction was to scrounge for anything that would keep me from having to venture outside of my hobbit hole.

Do I have class on Wednesday or Thursday?

No.

Do I work?

No.

What about a meeting? Surely I have one of those scheduled!

No.

My schedule was woefully clear and something distinctly Tookish woke up in me. Why shouldn’t I take full advantage of this opportunity and do something that I love in a new place. I might see some really cool things and it might even be fun. Before I knew it I had responded to the email, copied down some directions from the computer, packed my binoculars and scope, and was ready to set out on my unexpected journey the following afternoon.

I don’t know if you have ever gone on a trip last minute like this, but I always get a distinct feeling of excitement when I mount up in my Honda Accord and set out into the unknown. And for me this truly was the unknown. I had no idea what awaited me as I left Ashland and set out on the great concrete serpent known as “the 5”.

Let there always be wild places

At the start of the new year my family lost someone very dear to us under tragic circumstances. He wasn’t someone I knew very closely, but he was someone who I really liked and someone I looked up to.  He and I shared a deep love for wild places, and both of us chose careers following that passion.

After a couple of days moping around the apartment I had to get out, so Jeremy and I took a walk down to North Mountain Park. We followed a wilding trail that curved along a baseball field on one side, and a small but dense woodland marked as protected habitat on the other. As the trail softened to wood chips and split around various artistic and child-geared structures, we chose the path that most closed followed Bear Creek as it flows through Ashland.

The time came for Jeremy to leave for work, but I elected to stay behind. I found a quiet spot next to the creek and sat a while, thinking. A spotted towhee, a familiar face from home, called out from the opposite bank, flashing a hint of black and orange as he popped in and out of the brush. I thought about how, even so far away from the familiar of home, I felt connected by the mountains that ran almost parallel to my own Rockies, the deer and coyotes that moved through both of my backyards, the birds that sing both in Oregon and Colorado.

I listened to the whisper of water over riffles. I watched a clump of fur drift lazily downstream and wondered how its owner had become separated from it, likely snagging brush as it made to cross the shallow stream. Deer? Dog? Perhaps coyote? I thought of the salmon that had recently fought their way upstream to spawn here, and all the time I thought I had, the stories I would have loved to hear.

I considered the tiny little salmon waiting in the stream bottom, the streaks of brown feathers darting in and out of thick brush, the call of a flicker, the small hoof prints in the soft mud. I thought about all of the creatures of fur, feathers, and scales that had come here before me, and those that would pass this way long after I was gone. I was reminded of the nature of energy, how it is neither created nor destroyed, just ever-changing. Finally, I let myself cry.

I could have sat there by the creek forever, but the air was turning chill and the sun was ducking in and out of the cloud cover. I stood somewhat stiffly, breathing in the cool January air. As I turned to make my way slowly back home, I felt full and whole.

As I came up to the top of the hill overlooking the baseball field a red-tailed hawk soared overhead, making constant minute adjustments to hit a nearby thermal just right. As she circled higher and higher, I felt truly blessed to live in such a place where my kind and hers could live side by side.

Let there always be wild places, however small and humble, for they are not just for the wildlife that they protect, but for all of us. Sometimes it’s for quiet, sometimes for play, sometimes for beauty, and sometimes for when life pushes you back on your heels.  For whatever reason we find ourselves there, these are places that help us to feel connected, to feel alive, and to feel at peace.

in memory of Cousin Larry

The Naming of Things

Names carry power. I’m not talking about the mystical notion of power, but rather social and educational power.

Names are social in nature. The same name can have different meanings or connotations based on culture and language.  Names are a way for us to form mental, and sometimes emotional, connections to people and things. When I learn a person’s name, and use it, it strengthens our relationship. For people we are really close to, we might bestow nicknames or pet-names. I served for several years in the Air Force where there is a culture of bestowing call signs (nicknames) based on stupid or special things that people have done. Knowing their call sign told me a little bit more about who they were.

modern “tree of life” (image: Nature.com)

We humans like to try to put the order into the world. We create categories and schemas to make sense of the chaos around us. Names are part of that order. Give me a name and I immediately have a frame of reference for what type of thing we are discussing and its characteristics or functions. We even go so far as to have an entire branch of science dedicated to the naming and ordering of things found in the natural world.

Part of the joy of discovery, for me, is the joy of learning the name of a thing I have seen so many times but didn’t know what to call it. Growing up in Oregon, I am very familiar with the plants and animals that are typical to Pacific Northwest forests. However, I had no names for them while growing up. I made up my own- names like Nature’s Toilet Paper (Thimbleberry), Spiny Plant (Devil’s Club), or Climbing Tree (Douglas Fir). However, I couldn’t use these names to communicate with other people. It wasn’t until I began learning the names that I could not only talk about them, but also learn about what made these organisms unique and how they fit within their given ecosystem.

Douglas Firs (image: Wikimedia.org)

Devil’s Club (image: Wikimedia.org)

Over the summer, we began to learn about ecosystems that are unique to the Siskiyou region. In the process we were introduced to such places as “fens” or “chaparral” and along with them, we learned about the plants and animals that make each place unique. This is important because we will need to pass these names on to the children we’ll teach next year during fall in the field. The point isn’t just to make sure our students gain knowledge. Rather, it’s that without a name, our students will be less able to connect with the natural world they are experiencing. They will be unable to retain the important information about that mushroom or bird’s unique function if they don’t have a name to attach it to. Most importantly, the names we provide our students will create a framework that will allow them to know this place they call home and to actually care about it.