These days, among the innumerable things parents have to worry about, concerns about
the state of the biosphere surely rank at or near the top. After all, if present trends in environmental degradation continue, what air will our children breathe, what food will they eat, and what water will they drink? Will they be able to hike, swim, and play without
risking serious injury to their health?
To allay our fears somewhat and feel that we’re doing something to slow the damage being done to the natural world, millions of families practice, to varying degrees, a more “eco-friendly” lifestyle than was common a generation or two ago: We
recycle, buy
organic food,
reduce our energy consumption, and so on. Some people take this to heroic extremes, but most of us have made at least some lifestyle changes, and that teaches our children the importance of respecting the Earth and not squandering its bounty.
And yet, despite this positive trend, things have continued to get worse: The
Arctic icepack is diminishing, population pressures continue to increase, and dramatic, often disastrous weather patterns demonstrate the reality of global warming. The issue is not that making “green” choices as consumers is a bad thing or a wasted effort--we should all do as much as we can in that regard--but that “voting with your wallet” may not be enough.
For the fundamental problem is not that we buy the wrong things; it’s that
we have alienated ourselves from the natural world. Where humans once saw themselves as inseparable from the processes and creatures all around them, modern humans tend to see nature as something to go to (at best) or keep at bay (at worst). In this context, children see nature as something “out there,” not something of which they are a part. This is just one facet of a widespread syndrome that noted columnist
Richard Louv, author of the acclaimed book
Last Child in the Woods, calls “
nature-deficit disorder.”
But this is also where we, as parents, can have the greatest impact, both in terms of our children’s sensibilities and our efforts to protect and preserve the living environment that sustains us. For, as any parent can tell you, children have an inborn affinity for the natural world: animals (even insects), plants, bodies of water, weather, the sky (both in daytime and at night).
To parlay that affinity into a lifelong bond with nature--one that will engender an unshakable commitment to love and protect the Earth--parents can promote awareness of certain key factors:
Wonder. The American author
Ken Kesey (1935-2001) once said, “You can count the number of seeds in an apple, but you can’t count the number of apples in a seed.” In my experience, kids
love to have their minds blown by such observations (and even make some themselves). Explore with your children the natural processes evident all around us--birds building nests, spiders building webs, leaves changing colors, gradual shifts in temperature or daylight hours--and discover, with your kids, a cosmology in which they all fit together.
Dirt. Kids love to get their hands dirty, and in this context, that means they love to experience directly what happens underneath and on top of the ground. Plant some flowers, vegetables, and/or fruit trees (or bushes) with your children. Teach them to water the plants, learn their preferred conditions, and care for them. Then watch your kids’ eyes bug out as the plants grow. (Bonus points here for planting corn.)
Even if you don’t have room for a full-fledged edible garden, try a little experiment I did with my kids many years ago: Take an apple core and bury it in the ground. Dig it up a few days or a week later. It will be brown and funky, and likely covered (if not devoured) by ants. Beholding the changes in the apple should lead to a rich discussion of decomposition and the beautiful synergy of biomatter decaying to support new growth. While you’re at it, dig up some more dirt and count the different bugs busy there, doing their part to aerate and process the soil so it’ll be fertile ground for whatever grows there next.
Your Natural Body. While we’re on the subject, make sure to point out to your kids that the food they just grew and are finding so delectable is,
right now, being turned into bone and blood and muscle and energy by their very own miraculous bodies,
without them having to tell their bodies to do it. Also point out the remarkable way in which a skin cut heals, a bruise fades away, a cold peaks and resolves. Make connections wherever you can between what they can observe in other life forms and what they experience directly in their own bodies: They grow like trees, run like horses, swim like fish, and smile like the sun.
Your Very Own Menagerie. Over the years, our household has been home to two dogs, five cats, three parakeets, two snakes, two toads, one rabbit, and one iguana. (The latter loved to hang out, literally, on the drapes.) The dogs and cats I could have predicted, but not the others; they were the result of our kids’ desire and my wife’s forbearance. I resented the rabbit’s chewing up the wires to my stereo’s speakers, but I loved the way our kids loved him. And I was just as transfixed as they were by watching the snakes eat their, um, meals, and in just looking at the iguana. The whole roster, over time, brought the outdoors inside and gently reminded us that we were part of the animal kingdom.
Countering the harmful cumulative effects of industrialization, shortsighted land-use policies, and rampant consumerism is not a trivial task; it will take generations of concerted effort. But there is a world to be won, for our children and all their descendants; and in this very moment, there something precious to be regained: the joy of feeling life coursing through us and all around us.