OUTDOOR CLASSROOM OBSERVATIONS

The temperature was easily 10 degrees warmer in the dining hall. This was not necessarily a good thing since the morning humidity was suggestive of a rain forest; almost thick enough to slice and serve. 

Of the hundred fifty or so souls at Camp Men-O-Lan, I was the lucky one. While for 2+ days my coworkers battled foreign mattresses, assorted unfamiliar bedfellows (some with home sickness, some with smelly wet socks) and the creak and groan of camp buildings settling in for a dark night, I was in my cozy bed at home looking forward to the luxury of my own shower. That is not to say I enjoyed waking while the dominant hour was still an unreasonable 5. But it sure beats having to sleep at camp. 

I have, in years past, felt a little sorry for myself when it came time for Outdoor Classroom. Spending hours preparing a medical plan, packing supplies, collecting medications and tracking down forms, it is always a little anticlimactic when I watch the last of the middle-schoolers and their teachers exit the building. I am usually left on campus with the other 400 or so (smaller) scholars of Penn View. Well I've learned my lesson about feeling sorry for myself because THIS year, there were no nurse-parents available to volunteer for the longest day of camp. It seems it was easier to find a sub to cover my office for 7 hours than it was to find a medical person to spend 17 hours away from home to be on standby for a long outdoor exercise in learning. So there (a little reluctantly) I was. Be careful what you think you wish for.

Having had enough of the stifling humidity of the dining hall, I took my laptop out into the crisp air on the front porch to do some writing. This should have been an uneventful task. There were no obvious external outlets so I determined it would be necessary to send my laptop and cord out the window. Good thing Bonnie was an able assistant (and NOT just because I was too weak to manipulate the screen to an open position.) It was more significantly a "good thing" because when I asked her to hand the chubby laptop out to my waiting hands, she coolly reminded me that someone less DAFT would just unplug the computer and send out the cord. Good point. (and duh....)

On the sturdy and surprisingly comfortable wooden porch furniture, I was at certain intervals surrounded by a fleet of dedicated middle school teachers. Bedecked in sweatshirts and bandanas (the apparent traditional garb of Outdoor Classroom) they were diligently sifting through Landis Supermarket bags of damp camp journals. Giving themselves to the task, they read student entries with an enthusiasm I found inspiring for instructors who lacked a decent night of sleep.

The elusive sun made its first Thursday appearance mid-morning, pressing its warmth through newly emerged leaves, catching light on the raindrops which fell the night before. It was seriously beautiful.

But then I was assaulted.  NOT COOL.  I felt something tickling my head and lifted away a surprised brown spider with rather hairy (and unsettlingly meaty) appendages. I'm not sure which of us was more displeased to discover the other and in a rather disturbing turn of events, I had no idea where the wild flicking motion of my hand had sent him. Did I mention I hate spiders?  I took a little walk around the porch to give the ugly fellow some time to find a new head to bother. 

While on the porch, a marvelous little man stopped by for a visit.  His mother is one of our science teachers and the aforementioned adorable little man is currently her three-month-old excuse for not having to WORK. Along with premature worry lines on his tender and expressive forehead, little Ezekiel was sporting the tiniest pair of crocs ever manufactured.  Sweet Ezekiel was too agreeable for his own well-being and was abruptly swept off by another of our coworkers without complaint.  He might have loudly and wisely refused this hasty relocation had he known he was headed to the "archery area" for observation.  The business of preadolescent students displaying archery skills is a dicey proposition AT BEST and upon discovering the whereabouts of the little darling, his return to the safety of the porch was promptly manipulated by his prudent mother. 

   

LOOK AT THOSE CHICKLET-SIZED SHOES! 

Nearly missing lunch, I was pampering a student's swollen ankle. In my absence, helpful coworker Heidi assembled my black bean taco. This creation was better than camp food has any right to be.  I KNOW camp lunches were not this delicious when I was a young camper... (Of course my childhood camp food preparation was not directed by a man in an official white chef jacket as was the case at Men-O-Lan.)

By one hour after lunch I had burned through most of what was previously considered a generous supply of instant ice packs, resorting to stuffing latex exam gloves with ice cubes from the kitchen.  Desperate times call for desperate measures. The downside to having the actual school nurse accompany an outing so rife with blisters and headaches is that familiarity breeds neediness. Just like the elementary students in the hallway who feel the need to report every Band-Aid as they pass me by, middle school students see my face at Outdoor Classroom and it prompts in them an overwhelming urge to whine. Not counting medications, I received approximately 40 complaints of illness or injury during my one day "shift." (This sorry pitiful condition seems to occur when children bring their boo-boos and belly-aches to the same school nurse they've visited since age 5...) Receiving a cotton ball of Caladryl on a barely visible rash, one of these needy students proprietarily remarked, "Can I tell you how nice it is to have our "own nurse?" I realize I should be thankful I am apparently so approachable and I'll try hard to remember that while I practice a firmer Nurse Cratchet face in the mirror.

The rain held off nicely, allowing for fabulous pastimes including (but not limited to) tie-dying t-shirts, the knuckle-scraping phenomenon of the ga-ga pit, Frisbee golf, pond fishing, paddle boating, obstacle course navigating, and the actual launching of rockets made from scratch.  Given the ominous forecast, it was a bullet dodged. In fact the wettest students were the victims of plummeting water balloons rather than the precipitation so maliciously predicted by forecasters. (Such harbingers of doom.)

Middle School Students Playing Three Blind Mice

 

The elementary students are always very curious about the "big kids" who get to go to camp for school.  They can hardly wait for their turn. Two of my own children have experienced this rite of passage and though it has been twelve years since my firstborn participated I can still say with conviction that I do not envy the laundry-processing mothers of this muddy crew.

So during my very small window into the Outdoor Classroom experience, this is what I discovered. People were smiling, nature was beaming all around us, and learning was happening in a very sneaky way. Food webs and pesticides were discussed and absorbed without obvious props like desks and textbooks. Memorable classes were taking place under towering oak trees, learners too engaged to scratch at the new mosquito bites on their mud-smudged legs. It turns out my coworkers (those sleep-deprived educators pretending they are just ring-leaders of fun in the woods) are categorical charlatans. 

Well-played teachers, well-played…