Category: Uncategorized

A different sort of week

September 30th, 2019

Week two as an outdoor educator was COMPLETELY DIFFERENT from week one.

I had six fifth grade boys from a small, private school.

We spent about half of the week working with another group from the same school – a group of eighth graders with three boys and four girls.

For those of you keeping count, that’s TEN students for TWO adults. A group of students who, overall, were very chill and well-behaved.

Compared to the previous week, it almost felt like a vacation. But I got bored.

Most of my “career” has been spent with students like those I met during that first week, especially that one challenging student. When I got to the end of that week, I knew that I would miss him. And I wondered how I would feel when I had an “easier” group.

Turns out, I like the “challenge.”

Don’t get me wrong – both groups had their challenges…and both groups had their joys! Each week I got to watch kids who didn’t really know each other develop better relationships. And I got to watch the kid who stood quietly in the back step up and share brilliant ideas that turned around the team-building activities. And I got to watch kids put in the work to hike and discover nature.

But when all was said and done, week 1 left me feeling more fulfilled. For a long time, I’ve believed in the value of long-term relationships with kids. And when last week came to an end and those kids loaded up on the bus, I remembered why. Kids need people who will show up for them over and over and over again. Kids need those stable, consistent figures in their life who will remind them that they are valued, even when they’re acting completely ridiculous.

So, for the next six weeks I’ll continue working as an outdoor educator. I will do it with joy and I will grow in skills that wouldn’t develop in any other setting (like fire-building and tree identification…maybe caterpillar identification, too). But when all is said and done, I know it will be time for a new adventure.
How to survive the first week as an outdoor educator

September 22nd, 2019
- Accept that you will make mistakes
- Find reasons to laugh
- Drink lots of coffee
- Confiscate students’ bug spray
- Be prepared to throw plans to the wind
- Plan on not showering
- Wear comfortable shoes
- Call for support when you need it
- Drink more coffee
- Optimize the time and tools that you have
This week was long. There was a “challenging” student in my field group (we spend anywhere from 5-9 hours with our field group each day). He and I butted heads a lot and there were times when the rest of the group got really fed up with his behavior. But at the end of the week, I was sad to see him go.

I come from a work environment where I saw the some of the same kids two to four times a week for three years. In this new world, I get them for a few days. So while I would LOVE to spend more time with that kiddo and learn more about his motivations and his hopes and his fears, I don’t get to do that.

And that’s hard.

Way harder than I thought it would be.

But I know that he’s going back to a school with teachers and staff that want to see him succeed. They spent the week communicating with me about his highs and lows, trying to find ways to make sure he stayed with our group. And, y’all, he did succeed…in more ways than one. He caught crickets and salamanders. He was a beast at the more physical team-building activities. And he got to be comic relief in our skit. And when he left, he gave me a high five with eye contact.

So, now I get to look forward to doing that again next week and the next and the next. And in between all of the weeks, I get to find rocks and trails.
Learning…

September 16th, 2019

After less than two weeks of training, tomorrow I dive head-first into being an outdoor educator. If you’ve known me for more than two minutes, you know that I’m fairly passionate about the outdoors and I’m fairly passionate about education. But this is a beast of a completely different matter.

Over the past two weeks, I’ve lashed canoes together to build a catamaran. I’ve donned a bee suit and worked my way into a hive. I’ve identified and eaten edible plants. I’ve hiked in and around the “classroom,” sometimes at night. I’ve been blindfolded and done corny team-building activities with the 17 other folks who are in this with me. And more often than not, I have felt completely out of my element.

I haven’t done research projects on birds or studied extensively studied environmental science. I haven’t taught kids how to backpack or how to build fires. Heck – I don’t even cook my own food over a fire when I’m camping. I don’t know how to identify birds by their call or find salamanders under rocks.

For two weeks, I have been completely intimidated, terrified, and overwhelmed.

But then I find myself laying in the grass, trying to write down everything I’ve learned (and everything I still need to figure out), and a tiny caterpillar crawls across my notebook. Or I find myself coming down a trail as the sun as setting and I just pause to listen. Or I hunt for quartz and successfully come up with two pieces that will create a chemical reaction, sure to wow a bunch of wily kiddos on a night hike.

Every day is a new chance to learn or discover or experience something. I am trying to focus on that…the advantage that gives me. Like the kids who will roll in tomorrow, I am here to learn. And we get to do that together.
Two months

September 8th, 2019

At this point in time, I’ve been on this journey for two months. And for the first time in two months, I actually have a plan for two months out.

If you’ve known me for more than a minute, you probably know that I like plans. And structure. And being in control of everything that happens.

For the past two months, all of that – those comforts – have been more or less absent from my life. I have been at the mercy of the weather and other people and the efficiency of Wifi in coffeeshops, AirBnBs and breweries. One morning, I woke up without knowing where I would be sleeping that night. Being flexible has taken on a whole new meaning!

And even though I have the next two months planned (what?!?), I know that the day-to-day within these months will require that same flexibility. I’ll be taking groups of students on hikes to find mushrooms. We’ll talk about pond ecology. There will be team-building games on a low ropes course.

But as much as I plan and prepare and even though I could read through an entire field guide, there will be days when it rains. There will be kids who refuse to participate in team-building games. And someone might have an asthma attack or go into anaphylactic shock (I went through first aid/CPR training the other day and I’m still shaking off the “worst case scenario” mentality.)

The next two months will be look completely different from the last two months. But they will continue challenging me to be more flexible and remain open to learning, growing and experience life in new ways.
Wait…what’s happening?

September 3rd, 2019

The past week was a little bananas.

First there was Ohio.

Then there was Arkansas.

I started in Heber Springs…where I dug through boxes of my things to find layers for colder weather and extra towels…made cream puffs and pie…helped make a giant batch of spaghetti for a church dinner…annoyed my parents’ dog…checked on my plants. And I hiked my hometown trail (pretty sure some friends dragged me up it, kicking and screaming, sometime during high school…so much has changed).

From there, I headed south to see family (a visit that was made complete with freshly caught & fried fish + hush puppies…I made the cole slaw).

And because I’m a little bit crazy, I woke up around 1:30 am on Sunday and drove to Nashville. I spent the day with some of my favorite people and went to bed completely exhausted…but with an entirely full heart.

Now it’s time to close this giant loop by heading up to New Hampshire! I’ll spend September & October (plus a smidge of November) working at an outdoor education center. It’s going to be completely bananas and I couldn’t be more excited.
The good, the bad and the messy

August 29th, 2019
On the way to Ohio, I stopped in Connecticut to visit some friends. I got a walking tour of New Haven (including East Rock), ate falafel and made pie. There wasn’t really a plan for what would go into the pie…but someone got excited and showed up with a mess of fruits. Nectarine, plum, blueberries, currants, peach, apricot…they all went into the pie.

Then I slept.

The next morning I got up early, walked to a coffee shop to knock out some work, and then started driving to Ohio. Questioning myself the ENTIRE WAY.
- Why am I doing this? I’m trying to be more open to people and opportunities…
- What if it’s awkward? We make jokes.
- What happens if we hate each other? I leave.
- Do I know anyone else in the Columbus area? Yes.
- Is he going to make me meet his people? That would be too weird. He wouldn’t do that!!
- Will we disagree over where to eat dinner? Probably…but we’ll both be too polite to argue about it.
- What if I try to make a pie for him and I forget how to make pie? That. Won’t. Happen.
As you can see, it was a long and very eventful drive. But suddenly, I was there.

And…it was awkward. And there were moments when we didn’t like each other and we were too polite to choose places to eat dinner and I did have to meet his people, but I was able to show up (on one occasion) with a slew of hand pies. It’s overwhelming to think about Ohio in one big chunk though. So let’s break it down:

THE GOOD

Hanging out with his people…

THE BAD

Because we didn’t know how to translate our phone-based interactions (after meeting in person twice) to real-life…

THE MESSY

And now I’m going to New Hampshire.

Right.

After a month of talking on the phone, being in the same place at the same time was weird. We couldn’t figure out how to do that. And on top of that, New Hampshire was looming in the future.

By the end of my visit, it was slightly less awkward to spend time in the same place. And we figured out how to work through some of the moments when we didn’t like each other.

Then…I left. Now there are two months looming ahead of us when I’ll be in New Hampshire (working at an outdoor education center!!) and he’ll be in Ohio. Like I said – messy.

I really like black and white…yes and no…forward and backward. But this is one of the situations that’s grey, maybe and sideways. So we have two months to talk. And then we’ll see where we are.
Yurts & Hand Pies

August 19th, 2019

I spent this past weekend staying in a yurt in Norway, Maine. And hiking. And throwing pies into wood-fire ovens.

Last month, at the Kneading Conference, I met a few people who were amused by my life choices. Some people looked at me with concern and trepidation. Some people just laughed and made jokes about how I lived in my car. Some people expressed authentic support. And then some invited me to come visit.

But, let me back up…to my arrival in Norway.

I jumped into the line prepping pizza for a community garden’s weekly pizza night. I met people who work and volunteer in the garden. We swapped adventure and experience stories. And I was invited to join in arts activity with youth the next day.

Somewhere in the midst of the community garden pizza party, my friend mentioned that they were planning a pizza night at home for Sunday. Firing up their oven…and I was invited to join…and throw some pies in the mix.

WOOD FIRED HAND PIES?!? Basically a dream come true.

So, Saturday consisted of foggy hiking…arts-ing…story-swapping…pie dough making (in a yurt). And then listening to thunder and watching lightning while falling asleep in a yurt.

On Sunday, I tackled one of my bigger trails and was ready to do more when I finished. “More” meant pie. Rolling, filling, pricking…that part was easy. Even tossing in random pizza toppings to make some savory hand pies (some of which we ate for breakfast topped with fried eggs). The whole day was a series of things that I knew and loved and enjoyed.

But then there was the fire.

How hot does it need to be?

How long do they bake?

Will they slide off the peel?

Flame or no flame?

How should I know??

Baking pie with wood fire was a completely new experience. So, I didn’t know…exactly. But I knew the proper cooking temp and approximate time. And I knew how dough reacts when it’s first exposed to heat. And I knew what happened when you put a loaded pizza crust in a wood fire oven.

Applying prior knowledge to this new situation (Vygotsky & accommodation), we were able to successfully bake some beautiful hand pies in a wood fire oven. And only one pie almost got stuck to the peel.
What doesn’t belong

August 17th, 2019
I have used Couchsurfing for years. Since college. Time and time again, I have found it to be an effective way to travel. It’s allowed me to develop some sweet connect with people, learn local secrets, and fill otherwise quiet evenings. Every time I set out to find a place to stay using the website, I ask several questions:
- Does this host have good reviews?
- Does this host have plenty of pictures?
- Is this host’s profile complete?
- Does this host include a decent description of the home/couch/etc?
The website, couchsurfing.com, has their own verification process that can “increase” the security of various stays. I don’t pay much attention to that since I’ve spent so much time figuring out my own way to read people. But this time…I could have done better.

Everything was great! It really and truly was a good experience – a blueberry farmer let me hijack his kitchen to make three blueberry pies and a pile of blueberries & cream hand pies for the crew of pickers he hired for harvest season. I met some folks from Arkansas, Tennessee and even Missouri (the town where I went to college!). Great people. Interesting conversations. I took off during the day to hike and spent the afternoon baking/reading.

With a plan to get up at 5 am to shower and head back down to Portland, I said “Good night” and “Thanks” and crashed pretty early. In my space downstairs.

My host was still awake…not quite ready to head to the loft upstairs. (aka – His Bed)

About fifteen minutes later, I think I hear him talking to one of the pickers…”You’re more than welcome to come upstairs…Mary Elizabeth.”

He wasn’t talking to a picker.

He was inviting me – a relative stranger who gave NO indication that such an invitation would be welcomed – to his bedroom.

It would be easy to skim past this interaction…completely ignore it and just tell you all about that time I made a bunch of blueberry pies and watched the sun set over a blueberry farm.

But this isn’t that simple. Or sweet.

It’s a narrative on the state of the world where I rack my brain trying to figure out what I did wrong…how I led him on…what I should have done differently…and then I tell myself that I’m overreacting to a simple invitation.

But I don’t think I overreacted. I’m still a little salty. Baking for people…traveling solo…having strangely deep conversations with relative strangers. Those are a normal part of my life.

Being invited into bed with a stranger.

That’s the thing that doesn’t belong.
Different sort of adventure

August 16th, 2019

We’re going to flash back for a minute.

About four-five weeks ago.

I was in North Carolina. There was a beach. It was hot. I hung out on the hot beach and read. A lot.

Then I figured, “Let’s mix things up a bit!”

So I downloaded Bumble.

(cue shocked gasps)

I decided that it would be fun to connect with some new people and just, ya know, try something different.

I went out with five guys.

Each time, I was very honest about my situation: “I’m currently wandering! North Carolina is just a stop along the way…let’s have fun!”

And it was fun! I discovered a semi-secret beach down a sandy trail. Found the best fish tacos and the most extensive beer list on the island. Went kayaking.

And I met a guy from Ohio.

Twice.

Over the past several weeks, we’ve kept in touch…a lot. He likes communicating (and I don’t). He’s great at talking about his feelings (and I’m not). He likes thinking about the long-term (and I’m basically living in my car).

So now I’m going to Ohio. Not for hiking…not for bread…not for any typical adventure that I would pursue. But this is most definitely an adventure.
Acadia Adventures

August 15th, 2019

I disappeared into Acadia National Park last week and I have absolutely no regrets.

It’s a busy season on the island, so finding a place to settle down and use WiFi was quite the challenge. And to be perfectly honest, I didn’t really want to do that. There was too much to hike. (If you keep up with my photos on Instagram or Facebook…just a warning: there’s still more to come.)

The hiking in Acadia is pretty different from what you typically find in Tennessee. There’s a LOT of change in elevation. I love that…but I am also incredibly challenged by that. Hiking five miles in east Tennessee is nothing compared to hiking five miles along trails in Acadia. I finished every day completely exhausted, but eager to do it all over again the next day!

One of my favorites was North Bubble. It’s not the highest summit or the most popular trail (but it is pretty well-traveled). Somehow though, it wound up on my list. The night before, I mapped out my route – starting at Jordan Pond, heading up North Bubble and then looping up to Conners Nubble and coming back down to summit the South Bubble. My bag was stocked and ready to go.

And that morning, I didn’t even stop to make coffee.

I got to the parking lot and immediately took off along the trail. I started working my way around a few “mosey-ers” who were working their way around the pond.

Then things picked up…and I headed up. And up. And up.

I beat everyone to the summit.

Then I sat down and cried.

Crying on mountains and in the midst of trees is not unusual for me. The woods have always been a safe space…that’s where I go to deal with all of the feelings that get overwhelming in normal circumstances.

Leaving Nashville hasn’t been easy. There are days when the relationships that I’ve left seem too big to carry. And there are days when I think about packing it all in and going back.

Then I look ahead…and I look around. I stop to consider all of the stories that have unfolded over the past five (?) weeks. The people I’ve met and the challenges I’ve faced and the moments of peace that I’ve experienced. I don’t know what’s next and I’m not completely sure what’s behind…but I’m just really glad that I’m “here.”

It’s like summiting a foggy mountain. You can’t really see the whole picture…but you know that what ever is out there is breathtaking. And you celebrate that you get to experience this tiny piece of it.