Sara Poliwoda's Nature Blog

Personal Ethics as an Interpreter 

Reflecting on everything we have learned throughout this course, I see how my experiences, beliefs, and sense of urgency to promote profound connections between humans and the environment have greatly influenced my personal ethics. The goal of nature interpretation is to make people interested, inspired and, above all, foster respect for the natural world. Something that stuck with me is that it is not only about imparting facts but about listening to those around us and learning about what inspires them. Personal ethics are an individual's moral principles and values that guide their decisions and actions in both personal and professional life (Adams, 1989). This course has taught me that nature interpretation is not just about what is in front of us, but the deeper meaning of the things around us. Understanding this can help foster our decisions for the future. My ethics are closely connected with my relationship with nature. Being surrounded by the Niagara escarpment and Lake Ontario as a child gave me a deep appreciation for the natural world and a strong conviction in the value of conservation. Exploring nature is not only a fun hobby but also a necessary exercise for mental health. Spending time outside improves cognitive performance, lowers stress levels, and cultivates creativity. As a result, I support spending more time outside and developing an appreciation and respect for nature. I view nature as both a haven and a school, where I can learn countless lessons about resiliency, interconnectedness, and the beauty of the world around me.

Lake Ontario Sunset

The Beliefs I Bring 

One of the first things I believe is that nature is an essential component of our identity and well-being, not something that exists outside of human existence. Neil Evernden's view that "we do not end at our fingertips" but rather expand throughout the landscape is in line with this concept (Rodenburg, 2019). My family went on many camping trips as kids, exploring lakes, and forests, which helped me develop an innate love of the natural world that transcended textbooks and organized classes. This helped shape my appreciation for nature as camping in a tent allows you to fully slow down and immerse yourself in nature, which is something I think is critical in today’s fast-paced society. We recently purchased a jetski and summers are spent at the lake exploring quarries, bays, and different parts of Lake Erie and Ontario. It allows me to explore new corners of the place I grew up in. 

Our Camping Setup!

Another belief is that storytelling is one of the most effective means of promoting relationships with nature. Effective interpretation requires more than just communicating information, it must also uncover deeper meanings and linkages, as noted in the textbook (Beck, Cable & Knudson, 2018). I have seen firsthand how people are significantly more interested when listening to stories or ecological processes than in discrete scientific justifications. I want to make abstract environmental topics concrete and approachable by including narratives in my interpretative work. I think this course has helped me realize that. I want to be a High School Biology teacher, so I will take this knowledge with me and incorporate useful, practical examples and storytelling in my lesson plans to make my lessons more enjoyable and approachable for students. 

Can anyone else feel themselves coming back to life now after such a long and harsh winter? The warm weather and sun the past few weeks have brightened my mood and got me excited for Spring! Something I strongly believe in and advocate for is Vitamin D. I believe it is amazing for our souls. Sunlight exposure elevates mood, increases creativity, and improves mental clarity. By lowering stress and promoting attention restoration, studies have demonstrated that exposure to nature, especially time spent in the sun, can enhance mental health and cognitive performance (Bratman, Hamilton, & Daily, 2012). For this reason, I stress the significance of seasonal changes and their effects on our inner selves as well as our interactions with the natural world. Spring serves as a reminder of rebirth, development, and the interdependence of all life, lessons that are central to my view of nature. 

What Responsibilities do I have? 

As noted by Jacob Rodenburg (2019), in the changing world, nature interpreters have a difficult job of educating those around us. This entails striking a balance between talking about issues like habitat degradation, biodiversity loss, and climate change and providing instances of successful conservation initiatives and workable solutions. Another responsibility is to incorporate the conversation of nature in social media engagements, gatherings, and informal chats. To ensure that people perceive themselves as active participants in environmental change rather than passive onlookers, I must serve as a link between knowledge and firsthand experience. I also believe I must teach kids about the natural world, climate change, and environmental interpretation when I become a teacher. I want to give young students a feeling of interest and care for the environment since they are very impressionable. I can assist students in gaining a greater understanding of the world around them by including experiential learning and nature-based teachings in my instruction. I also understand that being a good steward of nature is a prerequisite for becoming a nature interpreter. I have to set an example of sustainable behavior, promote conservation, and make sure that my personal behavior reflects the environmental principles I teach. By leading with integrity and passion, I hope to inspire the next generation to become responsible caretakers of the planet.

Group of Kids I camp counselled

Suitable Approaches for Me I think that experiential learning and interactive involvement work best for me because of my personality and communication style. As noted by Richard Louv in the lecture, it's important to provide kids with direct exposure to nature. I am currently a tutor and I place a strong emphasis on hands-on activities, as it helps students visualize and learn better. I can incorporate this in nature interpretation by planting plants, turning over logs to search for insects, or listening to bird sounds. In addition to improving learning, this tactile interaction helps people feel more connected to their surroundings. I also learned through this course that one of the best ways to learn is when we see ourselves as part of it. This aligns with the idea that "kids connect best to places through stories and faces" (Rodenburg, 2019). One way I feel connected to my community is by going for walks around Guelph, which allow me to ground myself, declutter my thoughts, and slow my mind. I get a true sensation of connection to nature in these brief moments.

Reflecting on the Future 

Nature is continuously evolving, as is my knowledge. One of my biggest takeaways from this course has been the importance of fostering hope. Rodenburg (2019) states, "We can create nature-rich communities where kids feel a deep and abiding love for the living systems that we all are immersed in." This idea deeply resonates with me. Rather than focusing solely on preservation, it is important to restore ecosystems rather than just minimizing harm actively.

I also recognize that I must make environmental education inclusive and accessible as part of my privilege as an interpreter. It is easy to forget that not everybody grew up camping, traveling, or walking into their backyard and being surrounded by forest and nature. This leaves out vulnerable groups, who are frequently the ones most impacted by environmental deterioration. In the future, I hope to expand my interpretive practice to include other viewpoints, especially those related to Indigenous knowledge systems and community-based conservation initiatives. 

To encourage others to view themselves as essential to the natural world, I will continue to create deep connections between people and the environment via storytelling, experiential learning, and education founded on hope. The goal of interpretation is to create experiences that are transformational, not only to transmit information. I know I am doing my job if I can inspire someone to take action and I am excited to apply my knowledge from this class to the real world.

It has been so fun to read everyone's blogs this semester, I have learned so much! I hope everyone is taking away something from this course just as I am! 

Signing Out 🌲🌧☀️🦌

I thoroughly enjoyed reading your reflection! It perfectly captures the essence of interpretation as more than just conveying facts—it’s about fostering deep, meaningful connections between people and nature. Your emphasis on storytelling resonates with me and my experience, especially through my own experiences in outdoor education and camping. I’ve seen firsthand how stories transform a simple nature walk into an immersive journey, making abstract environmental concepts come alive.

At the summer camp I worked at, we also used storytelling as a tool to engage campers with the land around them. Instead of merely explaining local wildlife or ecosystems, we wove narratives that sparked curiosity—turning a grove of trees into an ancient gathering place or a lake into a home for mythical creatures. Much like your approach, this method allowed kids to form personal, emotional ties to nature rather than just absorbing scientific facts. It’s incredible how storytelling invites people into nature, making them active participants rather than passive observers.

I also appreciate your belief in experiential learning. Nature isn’t just something to study; it’s something to experience. Whether it's camping under the stars or feeling the hum of a jet ski over Lake Erie, these moments deepen our connection to the world around us. Your reflections remind me that as interpreters, educators, or mentors, our role is to bridge knowledge with experience—turning learning into transformation. I have no doubt your future students will find inspiration through the stories you share.

Throughout this course, we have touched on many things such as privilege, accessibility, learning types and more. All these things have helped me grow as a nature interpreter in so many ways. As a daughter of immigrants, I grew up in a household where my parents worked their very best to provide me with a better life than they had. I am very fortunate to have grown up in a country where I could go on hikes, learn about nature in school and watch birds and animals in my backyard. I had the opportunity to turn on a television, watch the Discovery Channel, and see and learn about amazing animals and wonderful ecosystems all around the world. I was able to go to places like the ROM and other museums that showcased dinosaur bones or paintings of wild landscapes that had me immersed. I distinctly remember a school trip in which we went to a high school known for its performing arts and watched a dramatic play about Shakespeare, a midsummer night's dream and many scenes took place in a forest. 

Art in this way shaped my understanding of nature interpretation at a very young age. Now, after taking this course, I learned that art can help others connect to nature too, as it can help them relive memories of them in the wild through dance or song, or learn about nature through visual and performing arts (Chapter 10: Arts in Interpretation, pg. 229). My tour guides during my summers in Madagascar would use storytelling as a way to explain the things we saw and in a way, that is how I first learned to appreciate nature beyond just observation. Storytelling made the environment come alive, it gave animals' personalities, landscapes their own histories, and ecosystems a sense of interconnectedness. They would often share their own experience and interactions that they had and it would leave me feeling excited to go back out into the forest every single day, no matter how tired I was. One story in particular struck a chord with me. The story tells of a king who drowned himself in a lake to avoid capture by his enemies. This act made the lake sacred, and as a result, hunting crocodiles there became strictly forbidden. Today, the once-endangered Nile crocodile population has rebounded, along with native turtles and fish, all thriving under the lake's protected status. 

Picture taken of a baby Nile Crocodile in Lake Ravolobe as my tour guide told me the story of why this lake is Sacred.

Experiences such as these have shaped my ethics as a nature interpreter. I believe that nature interpretation is not just about facts and figures but about fostering an emotional and personal connection to the natural world. My experiences as a child have shaped my perception and love for nature and now as I have learned ways to help others too connect to nature, my ethics and beliefs revolve strongly around accessibility and privilege. Somehow we have turned nature into a commodity, and many people around the world cannot access it. Whether through scientific communication that bars people due to education or through the assimilation of various Indigenous cultures, we have forced the disconnection of nature onto many, many people. As a nature interpreter, I believe it is my responsibility to break down these barriers and create opportunities for people to reconnect with the natural world. Nature is not something to be owned, bought, or restricted to those with the means to experience it. It is a shared resource, a fundamental part of human existence, and something that everyone should have the opportunity to engage with, regardless of their background, education, or socioeconomic status.

One of the biggest challenges we face is the way nature has been framed within academic and institutional spaces. Scientific language, while valuable, can often alienate those without formal education in the field (Unit 5: Nature Interpretation Through Science. By simplifying concepts, using storytelling, and incorporating diverse cultural perspectives, we can make nature interpretation more inclusive and engaging. Creative writing has always been a passion of mine and since coming to the University of Guelph, I have found it to be a powerful tool to connect science and academics to the public. I am currently immersed in op-ed writers such as Naomi Klime or authors such as Dr. Kerrian McGoogan who are using their skills in writing to interpret to a much, much broader audience than academia could ever reach.

Dr. Kerriann McGoogan's book, Chasing Lemurs is one of my favourite creative non fiction books and is a very important one due to the biodiversity crisis Madagascar is currently facing.

Through their writing, they make pressing issues relatable, accessible, and urgent, ensuring that knowledge is not reserved for the few but shared with the many. This approach is most suitable for me as I find reading about others' experiences with nature often helps me connect to them as well. Writing the script for my podcast also helped me realize my love for writing can be a powerful tool and a bridge between people and the natural world. Through storytelling, I can make complex environmental issues more accessible, weaving together personal experiences, scientific insights, and cultural narratives to create a deeper sense of connection. Moving forward, I plan to integrate writing into my work as a nature interpreter, using it as a tool to reach those who might not otherwise engage with environmental topics. Whether through personal essays, advocacy pieces, or podcast storytelling, I want my words to not only inform but also evoke emotion, spark curiosity, and inspire change.

Thank you for sharing such a thoughtful and inspiring reflection on your journey as a nature interpreter. Your post beautifully captures the ways in which art, storytelling, and accessibility shape our connection to the natural world.

I was especially captivated by the story of the sacred Lake Ravolobe and its protected Nile crocodile population. The idea that a single story could influence conservation efforts and preserve an entire ecosystem is a powerful reminder of how deeply intertwined culture and nature can be. Your experience in Madagascar beautifully illustrates how storytelling is not just a way to share knowledge but a way to create meaning, emotion, and connection. This aligns with the ideas in Chapter 10: Arts in Interpretation, which explores how oral traditions and creative expression can bring nature to life in ways that facts alone cannot. Rita Cantu captures this concept perfectly when she writes, “If the songs are not sung and the stories are not told, danced, painted, or acted, our spirits will die as well.”.

Your reflection also made me think about how personal experiences shape the way we interpret the world around us. The way your tour guides wove stories into their explanations reminds me of how interpretation is not just about conveying information but about creating a space for curiosity and wonder. Your perspective on accessibility and privilege adds another important layer, highlighting the ways in which nature should be available to everyone, regardless of background or experience. Being aware of these types kinds of barriers to nature is so important in our role. Thank you for shining a light on them!

I also found your mention of Chasing Lemurs very interesting. A creative non-fiction book that explores biodiversity through personal narrative sounds like a fascinating way to bridge science and storytelling. Thank you for sharing this recommendation!

When I read this blog prompt, I instantly knew I wanted to use this post to share some of my favourite observations on iNaturalist and use that as my way of bringing the field to you! Most of the most amazing things I know about nature about bugs, so I will interpret this to you all through photos! I also think this fits well with our unit content, as this week’s textbook reading discussed iNaturalist and other, similar, citizen science initiatives (Beck et al., 2018). I am quite active on iNaturalist because I feel like I have an insatiable thirst for knowledge, so when I see an animal that I can’t identify off the top of my head, I NEED to know what it is- and iNaturalist is perfect for that!

The first insect that I want to share with you are Woolly aphids, specifically beech blight aphids (Grylloprociphilus imbricator), which are shown in the video above! Last semester while doing field work in an arboretum pond for my limnology class, I saw a branch on a tree that seemed to be moving and fuzzy… upon closer inspection I realized that my eyes weren’t playing tricks on me… the branch really WAS moving AND fuzzy. This was my first time seeing a woolly aphid, so I honestly was having a difficult time comprehending exactly what I was looking at, nevertheless I immediately started taking a video and trying to identify the thing I was seeing. Through zooming in I could see a little amber ball on each of these moving things, instantly I knew this was some type of aphid, or at least a hemipteran. Hemipterans are ‘true bugs’, an order of insects with piercing-sucking mouthparts and two pairs of wings. The little amber ball that you see on the back of each aphid is called “honeydew”- this is a sugar-rich secretion that is produced by phloem-feeding hemipterans, such as aphids. Honeydew is a resource that is often preyed upon by other insects, especially ants. Ants use aphids as a form of livestock, carrying aphids to different plants through their lifecycle and defending them in order to use the honeydew (McVean, 2017)!

The next insect that I am going to share with you is a green-striped grasshopper! This is a photo that I took last summer in preservation park while trail running- I nearly tripped while trying to stop and take a photo of this guy when I spotted it! I run a lot on trails in the summer so that’s when I find I get the most identification done. I definitely slow myself down doing this… and miss a lot of bugs because I’m running… but it combines two things I love into one, so I don’t mind! Now, I’m sure grasshoppers are not a new thing to anybody reading this, but seeing this photo of a grasshopper made me think of a cool fact that I wanted to share!

Pink grasshopper pic is from Michelle W., @pufferchung on iNaturalist

No, this photo of a pink grasshopper is NOT photoshop, pink grasshopper morphs are real and do exist in nature! The pink colour is caused by a rare genetic mutation known as erythrism- this is a recessive gene like the one that causes some animals to be albino (Griffiths, 2023). Naturally, this makes it very difficult for the individual to properly camouflage, therefore it is generally selected against making these very rare to find.

The third insect that I am going to talk about is another hemipteran that had a very big year last year… The cicada! The cicada that is pictured above is a dog day cicada, they emerge in August, the ‘dogdays’ of summer. However, last year there was a huge cicada event that happened south of the border, featuring a different type of cicada, which I’m sure many of you have already heard of. There was a double periodical cicada emergence of brood XIII and XIX throughout some parts of the USA (Sherriff, 2024). But what does this mean? Periodical cicadas are any of the seven species from the genus Magicicada, these cicadas breed on either a 13- or 17- year cycle, where they breed, die, and their larvae go dormant underground for years before emerging and beginning the cycle again. In 2024, both the 13- and 17- year broods emerged at the same time, causing a massive and rare explosion of cicadas (Sherriff, 2024). This was a dream for insect lovers, and a nightmare for insect haters. I wished I could have been able to make it to the states to see/hear it myself, however this dog day cicada was the only one I got to see.

Beck, L., Cable, T. T., & Knudson, D. M. (2018). Interpreting cultural and natural heritage for a better world. Sagamore Publishing

Griffiths, E. (2023, July 3). Rare pink grasshopper spotted in garden. BBC Wales News. https://www.bbc.com/news/articles/czknv1233dko

McVean, A. (2017, August 16). Farmer ants and their aphid herds. McGill Office for Science and Society. https://www.mcgill.ca/oss/article/did-you-know/farmer-ants-and-their-aphid-herds#:~:text=Several%20species%20of%20ants%20have,ants%20as%20a%20food%20source.

I loved reading your post! Your passion for insects shines through, and it’s truly inspiring! Even for someone who doesn’t naturally gravitate toward bugs, your enthusiasm and storytelling make them feel so fascinating and almost otherworldly. Your encounter with the woolly aphids sounds like such a surreal moment—I can only imagine the mix of curiosity and amazement you felt when you realized the branch was actually moving!

Your connection to iNaturalist is also really cool. It’s great to see how citizen science platforms fuel your curiosity and help you learn more about the world around you. I admire your dedication to stopping mid-run just to capture a grasshopper photo—it’s clear that your love for insects is deeply ingrained in how you experience nature.

When I think about music, what immediately comes to mind is Spotify, the radio, singing, and instruments. Arguably, I would think that is what would come to mind for the majority of people. Even though I love and enjoy nature in every form, and consider myself knowledgeable about many aspects of it, I do not typically connect it to my own idea of music. 

We always end up associating the creation, production, and performance of music with humans, and our species. In fact, I decided to search up ‘music in nature’ and ‘nature in music’ on Google out of curiosity. Funny enough, the majority of pictures that showed up were people sitting in nature, singing, with a guitar, or wearing headphones. Why is it that we associate music with people? What about other species, or the sounds that parts of landscapes create themselves? Well, what if I told you that some of the core aspects, that rhymes and the ideas of using musical instruments, comes from animals? Species that predate us by millions of years use these same elements (Gray et al, 2001). In fact, “The ability to memorize and recognize musical patterns is also central to whale and bird music-making” (Gray et al, 2001). This makes me think of how often music is used for memorization, such as songs about places in the world or numbers or names. When I want to retain information, I find it easier to remember by making up a song for it. Did I learn this from nature? How can this contribute to my role as an interpreter? I subconsciously use music and rhymes for my own memorization, yet I have never thought about using it as a way to teach others, especially if it is new or complex information that could be harder to retain.

To end off this blog post, I want to share a song that takes me back to a natural landscape. As I have mentioned here before, I had the privilege of being able to study abroad last year. Somehow, this increased my love for nature even more, because I was able to see its beauty in new ways, in many different places. One of those places was Scotland, where I decided to do a solo weekend trip to see the Scottish Highlands. I was in a bus full of groups of people, and as the only individual of the party, I was put in the single seat next to the bus driver. At first I did not know how to feel about this, but I left feeling extremely grateful for it. I could immediately tell the driver had a love for what he did, and he had an entire playlist curated for the trip. As I sat next to him, I could see the connection he made to each song and what was in front of us. A particular song he played stuck out to me, titled The Glen by Beluga Lagoon. Every time I hear it, it takes me back to beautiful rolling mountains, and the sense of place and peace I felt on the trip. 

Gray, P. M., Krause, B., Atema, J., Payne, R., Krumhansl, C., & Baptista, L. (2001). The music of nature and the nature of music. Science.

Thank you for sharing your unique perspective on music in nature! I love how you challenge the human-centered idea of music and explore how animals, especially birds, use rhythm and patterns in their songs. It made me think about another incredible example, whales!

We often associate birds with nature’s music, but to me, whale songs are one of the most hauntingly beautiful expressions of sound in the natural world. Their melodies aren’t just for enjoyment—they serve essential purposes like communication, mating, and even maintaining spacing between pods. Some species, like humpback whales, create evolving songs that spread across populations, almost like cultural music traditions in human societies. The fact that whales memorize and modify their songs over time is a testament to their intelligence and connection to sound.

Edward Hyams’ words challenge us to reconsider our relationship with the past. He suggests that integrity is about keeping a story intact, ensuring that its pieces remain connected rather than forgotten. Without a conscious effort to remember, history risks becoming fragmented, leaving us with only disjointed glimpses of what once was. The past does not vanish simply because we have moved forward; it continues to exist, shaping our present whether we acknowledge it or not. To ignore history is like assuming a landmark vanishes the moment we leave it behind. It is still there, holding meaning, waiting for those who seek to understand it.

This perspective aligns with chapter 15 of our textbook, which emphasizes the role of interpretation in bringing past events, artifacts, and architecture to life. Historical interpretation is not passive; it actively shapes identity, values, and community. When interpreters weave historical narratives into engaging, thought-provoking experiences, they provide audiences with a deeper understanding of their place in the world. History, in this sense, is not a relic of the past but a living force that continues to shape our present and future.

One of the primary benefits of historical interpretation is its ability to foster a strong personal and collective identity. As individuals engage with stories of past struggles, triumphs, and transformations, they develop a sense of belonging and purpose. Communities thrive when their histories are acknowledged and shared, reinforcing collective memory and strengthening social bonds. A city with well-preserved and interpreted history is more than just a location—it becomes a meaningful home, enriched with stories that give depth to its streets, buildings, culture, and traditions.

A real example that beautifully expresses my above points is the immersive open-air museum Pioneer Village in Toronto. Visiting as a child on a school field trip was an unforgettable experience—the first time I ever felt like I had stepped into a different time period. The village is so well preserved and carefully maintained, aiming to breathe life into the past and share it with the community. Spaces like Pioneer Village provide a tangible, immersive way to experience history, making it feel real and relevant rather than a distant memory. Pioneer Village provides a setting where visitors can actively engage with history through interactive exhibits, costumed interpreters, and preserved buildings. The experience of walking through the village, seeing how people lived, worked, and interacted in the 1860s, made history feel tangible and alive. Skilled interpreters bring the past to life through compelling storytelling of the landmarks, foods, smells, demonstrations, etc., making historical events accessible and relevant to both younger and older audiences. 

This active engagement with history can lead to transformative experiences and inspire new ways of thinking. When individuals see themselves reflected in historical narratives, whether through the resilience of their ancestors, the lessons drawn from past mistakes, or learning about how people lived in the 1800s where we live today—they gain a deeper understanding of their role in shaping both the present and the future

A historical interpreter in action at the Pioneer Village in Toronto!

Thank you for sharing this unique perspective on historical interpretation! Your discussion of Edward Hyams’ ideas and the role of immersive experiences like Pioneer Village highlights an essential truth—history is not merely something we look back on; it is something we live within. The way we choose to interpret and engage with the past directly influences our present identity and the narratives we carry forward.

One aspect of historical interpretation that particularly resonates with me is how it shapes not just our sense of belonging but also our sense of responsibility. When we engage with history actively, rather than passively consuming it as a set of facts, we are better equipped to recognize patterns, avoid past mistakes, and cultivate a more informed and empathetic society. This is especially important when considering histories that have been overlooked or silenced.

For example, in addition to sites like Pioneer Village, I find that even lesser-known or unconventional historical spaces—abandoned buildings, forgotten trails, or local archives—hold immense power in shaping our understanding of the past. The stories they contain may not always be formally curated, but they still challenge us to question, explore, and interpret. In this sense, history is alive not just in the grand, well-preserved landmarks but also in the overlooked corners of our communities, waiting for those who seek to understand them.

I was reading the article linked in our course Ares Reserve for Unit 5, and it has me thinking about the way we teach science and how it shapes the way we interact with the world. Specifically, I’ve been thinking about how disconnected traditional science education feels from real-world environmental challenges. We spend so much time memorizing facts, but when it comes to the most urgent issues (climate change, biodiversity loss, food security), how much of our education actually prepares us to do something about them?

The article from Science is about the convergence of science education (SE) and environmental education (EE). The authors argue that while SE focuses on knowledge and technical skills, EE is about values and behavior change. The problem is that these two fields are often treated separately when they should be deeply interconnected. At the end of the day, what’s the point of learning about the carbon cycle if we’re not also learning how our daily choices impact it?

There’s something oddly passive about how science is often taught. Environmental education is often framed as something more political or value-based, and because of that, it gets sidelined in formal education settings. But this divide is artificial, science doesn’t exist in a vacuum or independently. It’s part of how we make decisions, how policies get written, and how industries function. The authors of the article argue that if we want science education to be meaningful, it has to include the ethical and social dimensions of real-world issues.

One idea from the article that really stuck with me was the role of citizen science. Imagine if instead of just reading about ocean acidification in a textbook, students actually went to a local water source, tested its pH levels, and contributed their findings to a global database. Not only would this make science feel more real, but it would also show that individuals can actually contribute to scientific knowledge. That’s a huge mindset shift from the “science is for professionals in labs” attitude that makes people feel disconnected from it.

It also made me think about the role of technology in bridging this gap. The authors discuss how information and communications technology (ICT) can make science more accessible and interactive. Platforms like iNaturalist, where people can document biodiversity in their own communities, or NASA’s citizen science projects, where regular people help analyze satellite images, show that technology can turn passive learners into active participants. (here are some links if you're interested!!)

https://www.inaturalist.org/

https://science.nasa.gov/citizen-science/

Overall, this is what’s been on my mind over reading that article, how science education isn’t just about information but about action. I think if we actually blurred the line between science and environmental education, we’d be a lot better at preparing people for the world we live in. I understand there are limitations, such as funding, time, and resources, but this is just something interesting to think about. What do you think, should science education focus more on real-world action and problem-solving, or is it enough to understand the concepts? How has your own experience with science education shaped the way you engage with environmental issues?

Reference:

Thank you for such a thoughtful and insightful post! Your point about the disconnect between science education (SE) and environmental education (EE) really resonated with me. Science shouldn’t just be about memorizing facts—it should be about action, problem-solving, and understanding how our knowledge applies to real-world issues. I completely agree that without integrating EE, SE can feel passive, and we miss out on preparing students to tackle urgent challenges like climate change and biodiversity loss.

I also loved your discussion on citizen science. The idea that students could actively contribute to research rather than just passively learn is a game-changer. Platforms like iNaturalist and NASA’s citizen science projects prove that real data collection isn’t just for professionals—public participation strengthens scientific research and engagement.

To answer your question about my own experience with science education, i believe it has given me a more critical lens when looking at environmental policies. It’s easy to accept initiatives that sound good, but without deeper analysis, they can have unintended consequences. Biofuels, for example, were widely promoted as sustainable, yet large-scale production led to deforestation and food shortages. This is why science education must go beyond theory—it should equip us to think critically and challenge policies based on evidence.

Some of the most common art forms are expressed through photography, singing, painting and dancing. It is evident that art can be presented in various forms. Similar to nature, art is unique in the sense that it is open to interpretation. The way that one person perceives an art piece might be different from how another individual perceives it. Likewise, the way one person perceives nature might be different from how another individual perceives it. For instance, one person might interpret seeing a snake as a rare sighting, whereas another person might interpret this sighting as a danger and reason to flee the scene.  

As mentioned in week four’s content, it is essential for nature interpreters to be aware of risk, both positive and negative. Nature interpreters who intend on immersing their audience (and selves) in nature need to especially be aware of risk. That is why it is important to consider low-risk activities as a nature interpreter. Activities such as photography are low risk and an effective method to engaging an audience with nature.  

Photography and poetry are my own personal means of using art to interpret nature. If you were to look through my phone, you would find several poems pertaining to nature and even more pictures of nature.  

The best pieces of art, are those that evoke an emotional response within the audience. Whether that emotional response be anger or happiness, the effectiveness of an art piece is only as true as its ability to portray an emotion.  

Environmental documentaries are a prime example of using art to interpret nature. The combination of photography and instrumental music evokes a certain emotion. The audience might forget the content of the artwork, but they will never forget the emotion that they felt in that moment when experiencing the artwork. That is the beauty of art – you might not know what you are looking at, but you know how it makes you feel. For instance, a documentary might play a clip of polar bears jumping from ice block to ice block as a result of the melting iced caps. This cinematography, in conjunction with the music, evokes a response within the audience.  

Photography and poetry alike enable the audience to engage all five of their senses: taste, touch, smell, sight and hearing. In order for art to be an effective tool within nature interpretation it is essential that it captures the audience’s attention, conveys a message and evokes the “gift of beauty”.  

The textbook references the “gift of beauty” which essentially means providing the audience with the opportunity to take appreciation for the ‘full picture’ of the art. In my own personal defintion, the “gift of beauty” means appreciating the small details within the artwork. For instance, this might mean appreciating the specific hue of a flower petal and understanding that it is more than a decoration. The colour of the flower petal is what attracts pollinators which assist in reproduction for both the plant and the pollinator. This detail, although minute, is very important and often overlooked.  

Thank you for your thoughtful blog post—it made me realize that nature documentaries are an art form in their own right. As an avid National Geographic watcher myself, I’ve always appreciated the way these documentaries capture the beauty of the natural world while also telling deeply compelling stories. Your point about art and nature being open to interpretation really resonated with me, especially in how filmmakers use cinematography, music, and narrative to shape our perception of the environment.

According to storyteller Susan Strauss (1988), "in the world of interpretation, the job of the storyteller is to bridge the gap between human beings and the natural world." Nature documentaries exemplify this idea by making complex ecological relationships accessible and engaging. A great example of this is Netflix’s docuseries Island of the Sea Wolves, which I recently watched. Shot on Canada’s Vancouver Island, this documentary stood out to me because of how character-driven it was. The series follows individual Wolves, Bears, Marmots, and more, giving them names and personalities, which makes their struggles and triumphs feel even more impactful. By focusing on these personal narratives, the series builds an emotional connection between the audience and the Canadian west coast wilderness.

Beyond their surface-level depiction of landscapes and wildlife, these meaningful documentaries craft engaging narratives that elicit empathy and curiosity. By following the journey of a single animal or pack or wolves, viewers become invested in the stakes of survival, migration, and adaptation. This form of storytelling transcends mere observation—it immerses the audience in the struggles and triumphs of nature, making the issues of conservation and climate change feel personal and urgent. 

Privilege can be defined as something that provides advantages without being noticed by the person that has them. When I first started reading this unit, I realized that I have never thought about how privilege could play a role in nature interpretation. Privilege affects everyone and is often invisible, meaning that we can all be guilty of overlooking it. It provides groups of people with advantages that others may not have. While studying this unit, I found the backpack metaphor helpful in relating privilege to this course. Another metaphor compared privilege to a bubble; just like bubbles in a champagne glass, privilege is nearly invisible, rises to the top, and cannot be entirely avoided (Reagle J). Viewing privilege in this way helped me understand how it influences who feels welcome and included in natural spaces.

Economic privilege is a widely discussed form of privilege that we encounter daily. I often think about how different wealth statuses provide certain advantages or disadvantages, and unfortunately these inequalities extend to nature interpretation. Park entrance fees, transportation costs, and the expense of outdoor gear are all barriers that can prevent someone from enjoying nature. While nature is typically viewed as free and accessible to everyone, these costs create a barrier preventing it from being equally available to everyone. For instance, I think back to camping trips with my family when I was a child. The three-hour drive to the campsite, the cost of gear and food, and the park fees all added up. Looking back, I realize how fortunate I was to have those experiences, knowing that many people cannot afford such opportunities. In my hometown of Dundas Ontario, there are many waterfalls I used to visit as a kid. They always free to explore, with no cost for parking or entrance. In recent years, however, entrance fees and parking charges have been introduced, creating a barrier for individuals. This has been upsetting to witness because it excludes those who may not have the financial means to enjoy these spaces.

Another over-looked privilege in nature interpretation is language. As someone who speaks English, the most widely used language in the world, I rarely face barriers when engaging in natural spaces. Signs, guided tours, and educational materials are predominantly offered in English, which can exclude individuals who speak other languages. This is something I have never reflected on before because it’s a barrier I’ve never encountered. For example, on hikes, trail signs might describe the local flora and fauna and interpretive materials in parks often share the history of the area. Language barriers can not only diminish the experience but also pose safety risks, such as when signs warn about dangerous animals or poisonous plants. For non-English speakers, these gaps in communication can prevent them from fully connecting with and enjoying the natural world.

One way to address this issue is to offer pre-recorded audio guides or written descriptions in multiple languages. These resources would make nature interpretation more inclusive and encourage everyone (regardless of their native language) to explore and learn about nature’s wonders. Personally, I’ve travelled to many parts of the world and visited natural sites where I was able to fully participate because resources were offered in English. This privilege is something I’ve often taken for granted.

Reflecting on privilege in nature interpretation has been eye opening. It’s easy to overlook the ways in which systems and structures cater to those who already hold certain advantages. By acknowledging these privileges and striving to address issues related to safety, finances, and language, we can create more inclusive environments for nature interpretation. Doing so will give more people the opportunity to connect with the natural world and share in its beauty.

Thank you so much for sharing your experiences. Reflecting on our own privilege is crucial when exploring these concepts, and your insights are both thoughtful and eye-opening. I thoroughly appreciated how you used the backpack and champagne bubble metaphors to illustrate the subtle yet pervasive nature of privilege. These comparisons make the topic more relatable and emphasize how privilege often goes unnoticed by those who have it, even as it shapes access to natural spaces.

I strongly agree with your stance on reducing barriers to the environment. Your points about economic privilege, such as park fees, transportation costs, and the price of outdoor gear, are particularly compelling. While nature is often viewed as free and accessible to all, these hidden costs create inequities that many people face daily. The example of increased fees in Dundas is a powerful reminder of how policies can unintentionally exclude those with fewer financial resources. Ensuring equitable access to nature should be a priority for everyone involved in environmental management.

Your discussion of language barriers as a form of privilege is also incredibly important. Offering resources like pre-recorded guides or translated signs would make natural spaces more inclusive, allowing individuals from diverse linguistic backgrounds to fully engage and connect with nature. It’s a simple yet impactful way to create a more welcoming environment.

An environmental interpreter’s job is to convey information about the environment in a way that enhances the visitor’s experience. It is crucial for the interpretation to be entertaining for visitors while also being informative. A useful skill for making interpretations engaging is having a good sense of humour and maintaining a light-hearted tone. A skilled interpreter should be able to present typically dry or complex facts in ways that appeal to visitors’ humour, imagination, or emotions when appropriate. If the interpreter is truly passionate about the material they are presenting, they should be able to tap into their emotions and use them to connect with their audience. For instance, when discussing the discovery of a new species, presenting the information in an excited and enthusiastic manner would be the most appropriate. Conversely, if the topic is the negative impacts of climate change, adopting a more sombre and reflective tone would be fitting. Knowing when each tone is appropriate and being able to effectively convey these emotions to an audience is an essential skill for any nature interpreter.

Another important skill for nature interpreters is the ability to pivot when necessary. When working with the general public, interpreters may encounter visitors who disagree with the information being presented. This can create tension among visitors or even between the interpreter and a visitor. In these situations, it is important to remain calm and redirect the conversation toward a more neutral topic. To avoid potential conflict, it is often best to steer clear of controversial topics such as politics or religion. Another instance where pivoting can be helpful is when a visitor does not understand the content being presented. While some visitors may openly express confusion, others may not voice their misunderstandings. In such cases, it is important for the interpreter to pay attention to visitors’ body language and non-verbal cues. For example, if a visitor appears confused or distracted, it may be a sign that the interpreter should adjust their approach or presentation style.

Changing the way content is presented can also be helpful since people have different learning styles. Some visitors may prefer to learn through visual aids such as images or videos, while others might benefit more from audio explanations or hands-on experiences. This is why employing a variety of interpretive methods is important for expanding the audience and making the content accessible to as many people as possible. Nature interpreters can connect with audiences through various formats, including podcasts, blog posts, videos, infographics, and, of course, in-person experiences in nature. Each location has its own advantages and disadvantages and may appeal to different learning preferences. In the end, being a successful nature interpreter requires a combination of kindness, passion, and empathy. These qualities ensure that every visitor’s experience is meaningful, enjoyable, and impactful, helping them to develop their own connection with the natural world.

Illustration of four learning styles: visual, auditory, reading & writing, and kinesthetic. Image courtesy of Preply, licensed under CC BY 2.0.