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Human-Nature
Our relationship with the natural world.
by Peter H. Kahn, Jr., Ph.D.
Created Oct 23 2009 – 12:05am
In a New Jersey town, a controversy about a pool has pitted neighbor against neighbor. Here’s the issue, as reported in the New York Times (9/7/2009). There’s a natural swimming hole, called Graydon Pool. It’s 2.6 acres. For over 90 years, children in that town have grown up swimming in this pool. It has a sandy bottom. Cool spring currents flow into it. But many residents would like to plow under this natural pool and replace it with a blue, concrete pool with “thoroughly disinfected” chlorinated water. They call this a “real pool” – a “bona fide pool.”
My colleague, Dr. Pat Hasbach (a clinical psychologist in Eugene, Oregon) and I recently presented a paper at the North American Association for Environmental Education. In our presentation, we asked: What would be missed by future generations if the “bona fide pool” people win out? For one thing, kids and adults won’t feel the sand between their toes. They won’t sense the fluctuations of water temperature in places where the cool streams feed into the pool. They won’t experience the periodicity of usage due to the seasonal fluctuations, the presence of bugs that might land on the water and birds that might be on the shore, leading to a deeper connection to a natural ecosystem. They’ll lose a sense of healthy fear that emerges in unstructured bodies of water.
Children will lose these experiences and not even be aware they’ve lost them. This is the issue I’ve written about in other posts as the problem of Environmental General Amnesia [click here; and also here]. The problem is that as we lose the richness and depth of pervasiveness of interaction with nature, we shift the baseline of what is recognized as healthy nature experience.
To counter the problem of Environmental Generational Amnesia, there’s a lot of work being done in connecting children to local, domestic nature. In his important book, Last Child in the Woods, Richard Louv develops this idea. My co-edited volume, Children and Nature, speaks to this issue, as well.
But what I’ve written about in an earlier post [click here] is that to flourish children need to interact not only with domestic nature, but wild nature.
If we’re brainstorming on a grand level, maybe there’s a new movement to start. Maybe we could call it – The Rewilding of the Child Movement. Or maybe that’s part of a larger movement: The Rewilding of the Human Species Movement! And likely enough, to rewild the species we need to rewild ourselves. How do we rewild ourselves? I’ve been wondering about that. I’ve been trying to feel a little of what that space might be like. With that in mind, here’s a brief personal reflection, which I used to conclude the conference presentation to environmental educators:
There’s a mountain pool that you find hiking up the wild river. The water emerges into it from porous volcanic rock. The water flows from the cold country. It’s too cold to plunge in. But you’re in. You’re in because your lover is nearby and you need to prove your manly-hood. But just as fast you’re out. Your mind can’t believe that mere water can be that cold. It would have been twenty strokes across. You give up that thought. You need to get warm fast. How? It’s easy. You move naked to your beloved and put your arms around each other. Other people say that that pool is too cold. You can’t swim in it. They say let’s make a better one. They do. It’s filled with chlorinated water that’s not too hot and not too cold. Every day of the year it’s that same temperature. It’s called the tepid pool. The pool-man comes once a week. He squeegees the sides and adds blue dye and oils the pump. The pool-man says you gotta love the tepid pool.
Where would you like to swim? Your choice.