GRADUATE ALUMNI NEWSLETTER

THE PICKET POST

810 State Route 20, Sedro-Woolley, Washington 98284 • (206) 526-2567 • ncascades.org/study

Winter 2013, Volume I: Edition II

Hey

Alu

mni

!

G R A D U AT E M . E D . P R O G R A M

Louisville, Kentucky is pretty much the exact opposite of North Cascades National Park. As you in the Pacific Northwest are wrapping yourselves in Gore-Tex, I’m

putting on some respectable shoes for a walk in the frosty sunshine in the Gateway to the South. You at the Environmental Learning Center watch glacial rivers flow where coyotes, bears and bald eagles are regular visitors. At Whitehall Historic Home and Gardens, where I live, my animal neighbors are mostly robins, gray squirrels and cottontail rabbits that hide among the prize-winning peonies and gorge themselves under carefully pruned beech trees.

Am I crazy for leaving the North Cascades? I left behind six years of work there with people who have similar visions and goals. I left that to come back to a place where the topography extends below the ground, rather

Returning Home by Carolyn Waters, Cohort 6

Hello Alumni! I hope you are all enjoying the lengthening of days and the cold snowy nights that traditionally define winter. For this quarter’s newsletter, we have amazing contributions from Katie Roloson, Carolyn Waters and Susan Brown, and I am grateful for the time and thought they have dedicated to their writing. The goal of the newsletter continues to be about sharing stories between alumni, while also contributing thought-provoking articles on the state of environmental education or the world at large. If you are interested in contributing to future newsletters, we would love to hear from you! Talk to you all soon!

than above, and where some people have never heard of environmental education, including some of my family members. At Thanksgiving dinner, several relatives felt compelled to remind me that “You’re not going to find a job in forestry here!” That’s right Grandma, but mostly because I never studied forestry.

So, it’s really different. I’m trying to build a new professional network while also picking up where I left off with the natural history of this place. It’s hard to be patient with the process–I’m not going to be able to identify nearly 300 tree species by next week (compare that to just a few dozen in Washington).

It’s exciting though, because I get to become a naturalist all over again; and this time it’s in the place where I was born. Since graduating from North Cascades Institute’s Graduate M.ED. Program, I’ve been jealous to see the new cohorts beginning summer block each year, knowing the experiences they will have and wishing I could do it all over again. Well, this time I’m the professor and I get to plan my own hikes. So far I have learned that black walnuts grow all over this city, free for the taking, and I can find fruits like wild persimmon

Please send ideas or suggestions to stephanie_bennett@ncascades.org

continued on next page...

and pawpaw within walking distance of my house. I’m currently working on a geology lesson that involves caves and sedimentary rocks that were never touched by glaciers.

I also get to do my own research about programs here in Kentucky, and I’m entering at an exciting time. One year ago the Kentucky Department of Education approved an environmental literacy plan. This year, the Kentucky Association of Environmental Educators welcomed the first-ever meeting of the Southeast Environmental Education Conference in conjunction with our own conference. Louisville is home to one of the nation’s largest new urban parks projects, 21st Century Parks – the leaders of which coincidentally hired North Cascades Institute for education consulting. I see the opportunity to pluck the fruits of potential here, in a place where environmental education programs are forming and growing, and the soil of history is rich with nutrients like Wendell Berry, Barbara Kingsolver, John James Audubon, Frederick Law Olmsted and Daniel Boone. I don’t yet have a job in the environmental education field here. It’s frustrating because I know I’m one of the most qualified people around. Like becoming a naturalist again, finding the right job will not happen overnight. The lesson I am learning now is to be patient and enjoy the journey. To begin, I’m following Saul’s lead in taking every opportunity to sit down with new, like-minded friends to enjoy a six-pack and some stimulating discussion to explore the realms of possibility.

Carolyn continued...

Coming up atNorth Cascades InstituteMarch 13th - Start of Mountain School

March 17th to 20th - Cohort Eleven Capstones

March 21st - Cohort Eleven Graduation

March 23rd - Sourdough Speaker Series: Wolves in the Land of Salmon

March 24th - Tracking the Elusive on the Skagit

May 4th to May 5th - San Juan Treasures: Exploring Yellow and Jones Islands by Boat and Boot

May 17 to May 19: Printmaking with Ink and Watercolor

For more information, or to register visit: ncascades.org/signup/programs/classes

Raven sketch, Clint Hensley

I’m sitting here in Joshua Tree National Park, sketchpad and pen in hand, drawing in the moonlight. The moon isn’t even full on this December evening; it is just a crescent. But still it illuminates every rock and plant along the bare ground as far as I can see. My breath even reflects the moonlight. I don’t know the temperature, but if I spill water from my

water bottle it freezes instantly. I am on a road trip with my sister who is presently in the tent wrapped in two sleeping bags. It is 7pm.

If I were back in the Pacific Northwest at the Environmental Learning Center in this very moment, I would never be able to draw by such a meager moon. But here in the desert the landscape is lit up like day. No headlamp needed. The desert is crisp and clear with very little moisture to cloud things up. Everything is light in color, reflecting the beaming moon rays. In the Pacific Northwest, vegetation tends to be darker, broader and friendlier to take advantage of any sun that shines down. Plants in the desert are always on the defensive, with thick, prickly leaves to protect them. Broadleaves aren’t practical in a place where sunny days are many, moisture is little and temperatures are hot.

While observing this Southwestern moonscape, I vividly recall when I first saw moonlight in an illuminated way in the North Cascades where I’ve worked and lived since 2007 when I became a member of Cohort 7. An Institute staff member told inspiring tales of being up high in snowy mountains when the sky is clear and the moon is full. During Cohort 9’s residency, I convinced a grad to do a moonlit hike with me to Trappers Peak. From this vantage point looking across the landscape I saw the Pickets, Triumph and waves of other peaks glowing in the moonlight. More locally, as we traveled through deep snow, individual snowflakes and crystals on the snowy surface displayed a constant light show sparkling around us. I have hiked up Trappers Peak multiple times before,

but this moonlit adventure is most memorable. As an Institute grad and employee, I have been blessed with many North Cascades adventures with a wonderful community of people. Every year, I get to know a new cohort of folks and adventure buddies—each who bring their own set of stories, talents and personalities. This keeps things vibrant up at the Learning Center. Consequently, I continually acquire new mannerisms, phrases and life-long friends in the process.

Another perk working with grads is that many begin the program with a limited knowledge of the natural history of the Cascades; so I am surrounded by people asking questions, eager to learn about this place. I am happy to share in the natural history of the region, as I too was in a similar position when I arrived at the Learning Center several years ago. Since participating in the grad program, making observations while adventuring has fostered a natural curiosity in me. I don’t want to view a place from the roadside. Instead I want to get in far enough and spend enough time to experience and learn about a place. This is a gift the grad program gave me. This natural curiosity now travels with me when I go to other places, like the Southwest. Years ago I never would have sat outside on a cold winter night drawing in the moonlight. My tolerance for cold, and physical discomfort in general, in order to observe, record and appreciate the natural world has grown—along with my fleece and puffy coat collection.

In the Pacific Northwest, I watch moon phases and hope for the perfect combination of snow, clear skies and full moon. Here in the desert almost any night is a good night for a moonlit adventure or low-key evening with hot drink, pad and pencil. No matter where you are, as long as you are exploring and dragging other people with you, you are building upon the community of people who appreciate learning and being in the natural world. And that will make a difference.

Drawing in the Moonlightby Katie Roloson

Katie Roloson’s blockprint of the Enchantment Lakes Area (Prusik Peak). One of the most beautiful places in the Cascades. Lots of goats.

Life as a Grad in Bellingham: Rediscovering my connection with natureBy Susuan Brown, Cohort 11

In future issues of our alumni newsletter, we want to include updates on exciting things happening in your life! This could be a vacation you just went on, a new professional position, getting married, having a kid or talking about the great environmental education trip you just led! Photos are welcome too.

Please email Stephanie at Stephanie_Bennett@ncascades.org with any updates you’d like to share with our alumni community!

chattermarks.orgA blog about Living, Learning and Teaching in the North Cascades

Keep in Touch!

Wow, life as a graduate student sure is different in Bellingham than at the Environmental Learning Center! My parents always use “air quotes” when referring to the North Cascades Institute residency as “grad school” because of how much fun it is. But now that I am back at Western’s campus I can finally relate to what “real” grad school is like. I greatly miss the adventure of living in Diablo and the company of the wonderful North Cascades Institute community. But this new chapter of grad school has proven to be just as enlightening and educational, although in an entirely different way. Classes with John Miles, Gene Myers and our other professors have opened my mind to understanding aspects of environmental education that have never occurred to me before.

Initially after leaving Diablo and moving to Bellingham, I was worried I would lose my connection to nature and my sense of place. Instead of leading waterfall hikes, I am now in a classroom. Instead of watching the snowline get lower and lower, I am now writing papers. Instead of falling asleep to the sounds of roofalanches and waking up to bird songs, I now listen to traffic and college students on their way home from parties. My field guides have since been traded for textbooks. But just because the nature of my environment has changed, that doesn’t mean my connection to the

natural world is lost. It took some getting used to but I have found ways to appreciate nature everywhere I go. Although I enjoy listening to the rain while I read for class, puddle-jumping on campus, and taking in the smell of wet leaves as I walk home, living in Bellingham has taught me to especially appreciate sunshine. I have learned to take advantage of sunny days, whether it’s finding a new trail outside of town or just sitting on my deck while catching up on homework.

I try to set aside time to be outdoors every day, even if it is just taking a quick walk around the block during a study break. In fact, it is those subtle nature experiences that affect me the most. Opening up the window to listen to the chickadees, admiring the vibrant colors of the last maple leaves to fall among a sea of evergreen, listening to the waves break while I drink coffee by the bay. These are the moments that remind me why I am here and where my place is in this world.

As graduation grows near, I am anxious to see what the next phase of my career in environmental education will be. I don’t know what I will do or where I will be, but I do know that the skills and knowledge I have gained from all aspects of this unique program will guide me to be successful in helping others find their own connections to nature.