IslandWood Endeavors

Coming to a Close....

2010-06-03T18:52:00.000-07:00

(An entry I wrote for the main IslandWood blog...)

The year is wrapping up. Both cohorts have finished their last weeks of solo teaching. The only things that lie between us and graduation are a week of team teaching and presenting our independent study projects, non-profit management projects, and portfolios.

In these last couple weeks, many of us have been doing some final reflections on what this year has meant to us. We have turned in official assignments to our instructors and mentors in which we have reflected on our growth as an educator, but we have also been chatting casually around the Commons and over cups of iced chai teas at the Treehouse Café down the hill about how much we have grown in all realms of life this year. Although everyone is taking their own unique lessons from their IslandWood experience, many of us feel like we have grown monumentally as educators, members of a small community, and personally.

As educators we have been pushed to try approaches we've never tried before, worked with kids who have had life experiences that make it very difficult for them to be in a new environment like IslandWood, and debriefed our experiences, both successful and unsuccessful a million times with our peers, mentors, and instructors to seize all the possible opportunities for growth.

As members of a small community, we have had to figure out how to be with the same 29 people practically 24/7. We live together, we eat together, we work together, we take classes together, and we socialize together. We've been in quite the IslandWood bubble all year, which has brought its fair share of frustrations, but more important are the laughs and the compromises and the ways we have learned to understand one another. Even after long days of teaching and very little sleep, we have learned to love each other despite our quirks and flaws and to be patient with one another as we all try to figure out our lives.

And even with the due dates for our big projects looming and a long year of work and growth on our backs, we still find time to jump out of the bubble and savor the occasional ice cream cone at Mora's in Winslow or dance to groovy beats at the Folklife Festival in Seattle.

Dinner in the Woods and An Adventure in the Woods!

2010-05-04T11:34:00.000-07:00

After a year of planning, IslandWood's biggest annual fundraiser, Dinner in the Woods, was celebrated on Saturday. This was an all-hands-on-deck event, with every member of IslandWood's staff and almost all of the grads pitching in to help serve food, set-up, entertain the kids, check coats, photograph, schmooze, and clean-up. About 400 guests were ushered onto IslandWood's campus for the evening. As they mingled before the banquet, many grads and other helpers presented them with trays of mouthwatering appetizers including such IslandWood originals as sunchoke fritters with onion jam drizzled with balsamic reduction and sour cream, rabbit empanadas, oyster shooters over a bed of smooth stones, and polenta squares with gorgonzola spread, sweet olive paste, and toasted sage leaves.
The dining hall field was transformed the week before the event into a grand platform tent for the banquet (see video of the tent being built here) and decorated with elegant mint green table cloths and potted native plants available for the guests to bring home afterwards.
At around 6:30, the guests were seated and served a feast of roasted lamb, arctic char (a sustainably-raised fish with qualities of both salmon and halibut), asparagus, and a pilaf of ancient grains. As the foods delighted their taste buds, the guests bid on grandiose auction items like trips to Costa Rica and a custom glass sculpture by Preston Singletary, who also happened to be present at the dinner. A 5th grade student who had come to the School Overnight Program just a few weeks prior gave a brief speech about his experience, a teacher who has brought her classes to IslandWood for years told of its effect on her students, and a board member told about his perceptions of the program. After learning about all the remarkable things IslandWood does, the guests participated in Raise-the-Paddle, where they donated high sums out of the goodness of their hearts. This was incredible to see, knowing that each donation made was going to make it possible for more students to experience nature like never before. Dinner in the Woods was quite an extravaganza, and it was amazing to play a role in such an important part of IslandWood's future. Even though many of us worked late into the night clearing tables and cleaning the tent and kitchen, there was a sense of satisfaction and camaraderie that accompanied the feeling of a job well done for a good cause.

Today, Cohort E had a Natural History Super Monday session. While natural history courses at other schools might involve sitting in a classroom watching a powerpoint presentation or even walking around outside while the professor points out the leaf shapes of certain plant families, IslandWood's natural history classes are much more adventurous than that! Today, we tromped through the thick forest in a corner of IslandWood rarely seen by humans, down below the Teams Course.

We investigated new plants that are sprouting up with the warm spring sunshine like star flower, cascara, trillium, fringe cup, and spiny wood fern. We stared snails in the eye, or rather the tentacula, and swung from invasive ivy vines.

We crawled into the mouth of a glacial erratic shaped like a giant snapping turtle, and slid down slick muddy slopes. We discovered steep gullies, seas of stinging nettle, two coyote dens, deer bones, two western red-backed salamanders, a stalactite-like fungus, huge old-growth stumps, moss-draped big leaf maples, a dead shrew, all 7 kinds of ferns that grow at IslandWood, and a murky vernal pool.

Speaking of murky vernal pools...
Charlie decided to earn a quick twenty bucks from the rest of us by bellyflopping into one of them!

See what I mean by adventurous natural history classes?
I love IslandWood!

A Weekend at Wilderness Awareness School

2010-04-11T21:39:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago, instructors from IslandWood and North Cascades Institute (NCI) converged at Wilderness Awareness School (WAS) for the second portion of the exchange between the three programs. The first portion of the exchange was at NCI and can be read about here. It was good to see familiar faces from our weekend at NCI but this time, the scenery was a little different. Instead of tall snowy peaks gazing down at us, we were amidst mossy vine maples and tall cedars in a little pocket of forest right outside the town of Duvall. We had gathered some preliminary knowledge of WAS's programs from chatting with their instructors at NCI, so we knew that they took more of a "listen to the earth" approach than the other two programs, but we didn't know what we were in for when we arrived to spend the weekend there.

From the very beginning, their instructors helped us explore by engaging all of our senses and asking us questions to guide us to a deeper understanding. They taught us how to use owl eyes, fox feet, and deer ears in order to be aware of as much as possible around us. They encouraged us to slip off our shoes to truly feel the ground beneath us and walk even more silently, then, barefoot, we padded to find our own special place within the trees, a Sit Spot, from where we could observe the world around us. They took turns telling us the story of how Wilderness Awareness School came to be as we sat around a fire that had been started with a hand drill in a round hut called Malalo ya Chui, which means Lair of the Leopard. We learned bird language, experienced the WAS questioning approach, discussed edible plants, and tried our hand at a 2-match fire.

We had a pasta potluck that evening, complete with stinging nettle tomato sauce, and chatted while passing around one of the WAS instructors baby, Wilder. After dinner, we played games of stealth in front of the blazing wood stove, then a small group of us hiked through the darkness down to the pond to star gaze.

After a night spent shivering in my sleeping bag in below freezing temperatures, a cup of coffee and my enthusiasm to learn more about WAS's programming gave me energy to face the new day. Between sips of freshly brewed hemlock tea, a group of us learned how to make bow drill sets and sat whittling away around a fire until we all had our very own bow drill kits to bring home. While we made our kits, other groups tracked cougars, followed the beat of a drum blindfolded through the forest on a Drum Stalk, and explored the rest of WAS's land, called Linne Doran, meaning Pond of the Otter.

When all the groups finished, we came together to try making a coal using a giant bow drill kit. The drill was about 3 feet tall, so it took a lot of us to pull the rope wrapped around it back and forth to get the base board hot enough to form a coal. But we did it, and it was sure a sense of accomplishment! Before leaving, we had an enlightening conversation about the natural directions and the indicators of awareness within teaching. They're hard to explain, but in brief, they are part of an educational theory that is based on the natural tendencies of humans over the course of a day and the course of a program, including energy levels and times for reflection. I found a lot of truth in the theory and you can learn more about it in Coyote's Guide to Connecting with Nature, the book on everything WAS.

It was an incredible weekend and all of the IslandWood instructors who attended picked up new approaches to teaching that we have been weaving into our School Overnight Program lessons. I personally have started doing Sit Spots, animal senses, bird language, and a story of the day with my students, all of which I learned more about at WAS. The instructors from NCI, IslandWood, and WAS also formed a warm supportive community, the ties of which will hopefully hold strong into the future.

Bones and Printmaking

2010-02-01T22:05:00.000-08:00

Today was Super Monday!

Super Monday is what we call the supplemental training session we have for two hours on every Monday of our non-teaching weeks. The focus of these sessions varies. Back in the fall we explored the bog during a natural history Super Monday and we've also had sessions that have taught us about ways to use creative writing and rhythm in our teaching, bird call identification, and fun group management techniques. Super Mondays are always a blast and teach us very helpful skills to implement into our teaching.

Today was no exception. We were led by two of our naturalist instructors down to Mac's pond where we were told to trail-blaze around to the far side. Picking our way through prickly salmonberry branches with our boots sinking into decomposing logs, we hiked through a part of IslandWood we had never seen before. As we rounded up through the trees behind the grove of cattails, something white caught our eyes. There, nestled into the hemlock needles and moss on the forest floor, was an assortment of bones! Among them, a hip bone, a femur, and a skull. Upon closer inspection, our naturalist detective minds figured out they were the bones of a female deer. As we called out for our classmates to come look, a few of them hollered to us that they had found bones too! Lots of them! We scrambled through the brush and our eyes widened when we came upon what they had found— it looked like a deer crime scene! There were many large femurs, jaw bones, pelvises, a couple strings of vertebrae, and three more skulls, one with sturdy antlers protruding from the top.

Our instructor Greg informed us that he had been scouting some sites to take our Natural History class last week and happened upon these bones. He told us that the other cohort had done some exploring during their Super Monday session last week, but that it was such an astonishing scene that he encouraged us to put on our detective caps and develop some theories to help solve the mystery. Practically before the last word left his lips, we scattered around the thickly wooded hillside, our eyes pinned to the ground in hopes of finding more evidence.

Within seconds, shouts started rising up from all over, "There are more bones over here!" "There's a fully connected leg under this tree!" "This skeleton still has muscle attached!" Sure enough, there were deer bones at various stages of decay strewn all over the forest. Some were hidden under draping sword ferns while others were lying open on top of stumps.

For some people, this scenario might have been a nightmare, but for environmental educators like us, it was fascinating! After about an hour of detective work, we regrouped to discuss our theories. Many of us concluded that the most likely cause of this scene was that people had been dumping roadkill over the hillside from the highway a couple hundred feet above us for quite some time, which wild animals like coyotes had then gnawed clean, but we're not sure. There are so many possibilities! One of the IslandWood grads is planning to do her independent study project at the site in the spring to continue excavating, map out all the bones and further investigate causes.

After retracing our steps back around the pond to the main trail, we hiked back to campus where most of us attended a professional development session with Mette Hanson, a well-known printmaker in the Pacific Northwest. IslandWood hosts Artists-in-Residence a few times every quarter who run workshops for kids and sometimes lead evening programs or performances. In December, we had African drummer extraordinaire Jah Breeze as an Artist-in-Residence, and in January we had poetry guru Vicky Edmonds. Although the primary focus of Artists-in-Residence is to work with the kids, they sometimes also offer professional development sessions for IslandWood staff and grads.

In today's session, we learned about the art of printmaking then got the opportunity to carve our own print blocks and roll on a variety of brightly colored inks to make a series of prints from our blocks. Needless to say, it was a wonderful way to spend the afternoon and all of the participants were very proud of their final prints. I love taking a break from the rest of my life to sit down and just let the creative juices flow.

<— Two runs of my print, a djembe drum with mushrooms at its base, both strong IslandWood symbols for me.

An Adventurous Weekend in the North Cascades

2010-01-23T23:28:00.000-08:00

Last weekend, most of the IslandWood grads drove up to the North Cascades Institute (NCI) to spend three days with the grads from their program along with the apprentices of the Wilderness Awareness School (WAS). It was the first trip in a three part exchange series between the environmental education schools that aims to foster the sharing of ideas and facilitate making connections with others in our field. From the trip preparations, I knew I'd be meeting new people and seeing a different program, but I could not begin to foresee the great adventures I'd go on or the incredible experiences I'd have with new friends.

The IslandWood grads all carpooled across Puget Sound on the ferry then cruised up I-5 to the North Cascades Highway 20 where we drove east a couple hours along the Skagit river, which just so happens to be where bald eagles like to spend their time in January because of the heavy salmon runs. We saw so many eagles during our drive that we lost count! Their majestic figures perched on branches next to the rushing water and their wings spread wide soaring over us as we craned our necks to catch final glimpses of them through the sun roof. Finally we drove over Diablo Dam, onto NCI's road and into their campus. The sites that greeted us were breathtaking. Snowy white peaks peered at us over conifer-covered foothills, contrasting sharply with the uncharacteristic bright blue sky.
That afternoon we explored our new surroundings, met the students from NCI and WAS, learned about NCI's climate change summer leadership program, and played a few raucous rounds of environmental education-themed trivia, with team challenges like making up the best campfire song, matching famous environmentalists with their quotes, and putting all the mountains in the Pacific Northwest in order from north to south. It was a great way to get to know the people from NCI and WAS and break the ice for the rest of the weekend.

The next morning, I awoke to Sarah (my IslandWood cabinmate and NCI roommate) saying, "It snowed last night" as she peeked out the blinds of our room. Excited, I leapt out of my bed and opened the shades only to find out that in her quick glance she had mistaken the white bark of a few fallen birch trees for snow. Although slightly disappointing, it was a humorous way to start the day. We had breakfast, then did more activities to learn about NCI's environmental education program, including a hike around some of their forest trails and a walk to Diablo Dam to learn more about its history and uses (it produces 25% of Seattle's power!). Although we didn't get to see NCI's program in action with kids since they only teach in the Fall and Spring, it sounds very similar to IslandWood's. 5th graders come overnight for a few days and learn about the natural environment through experiential, inquiry-based activities, except the whole program is based in the Cascades so deals a lot with mountain ecosystems, glaciers, and the dam.

Sarah and I on Diablo Dam The ravine below the dam

In the afternoon, we got to choose from a few hikes led by NCI grads. I chose one up to Pyramid Lake, which was supposed to have quite the altitude climb but be of medium length. Boy were we wrong!
We ended up climbing 1,500 ft. in 3 miles for a 6-mile roundtrip, which was somewhat higher and farther than predicted, but the big surprise was that it took almost double the amount of time we had thought it would because there was snow covering more than half the trail that had been packed down into ice! This made for a slippery, yet thrilling hike, especially on the way back down.
The whole trip was definitely worth it, though, because the forests were beautiful and at the top was Pyramid Lake, thoroughly frozen over with views of Pyramid Peak right behind it. After resting up from our tricky hike and "skating" all over the ice, a few of us decided that we wanted to explore further, so we climbed a rock slide that led up one side of the lake. It was steep and covered in snow, so we had to do most of it on our hands and knees, but I loved every second of it! It had been far too long since I had gotten to explore new terrain in such an intrepid way. When we reached the top, we were rewarded with a fantastic view of the lake and Pyramid Peak spreading out like a royal flush before our eyes.

After just barely making it back to the trailhead before the last streaks of daylight faded, we returned to NCI for dinner and a campfire with everyone else. Campfires are one of my favorite things in the world (going hand-in-hand with roasted marshmallows and stargazing) and we all had a wonderful time sharing our favorite stories, songs, and skits from IslandWood, NCI, and WAS. We sang and laughed long into the night, and one-by-one, people drifted back to their lodges until only four of us were left: Sarah, Gerolf (a German guy from WAS), Erin (an NCI grad), and myself. We put out the last few pulsing embers of the fire, then wandered campus for awhile, pausing every once in awhile to appreciate the blanket of stars that was being revealed by the parting clouds. We hung out with the WAS apprentices for awhile in their lodge and walked with them down to the lake shore, but then decided to strike out on our own to walk along the road to Diablo Dam. The way was mostly pitch black, but instead of being nervous, I trusted in my nighttime abilities. I've been leading plenty of night hikes with kids at IslandWood this year without any source of light and my night vision has improved drastically. It did feel slightly disconcerting at first to be walking at night along a route that I hadn't memorized by heart like the trails of IslandWood, but although I felt blind, I trusted in my senses and soon I felt right at home in the darkness. When we got to the dam, we gazed down the steep wall and listened to our shouts echo through the ravine far below. Then we hung out for a long time and just talked. About a lot. About life. Then we walked back, picking out constellations in the sky above us, and hilariously skipping for a spell to warm up. We even saw a gloriously orange shooting star streak over our heads! Sarah and I crawled into our beds around 2am, exhausted but sublimely content from the evening spent out in the night with new friends.

(I didn't bring my camera so credit for this photo of the dam goes to photographer: 'seawallrunner')

Our alarm rang bright and early the next morning because it was Kelly's birthday, and at NCI, there's a tradition of jumping into the lake on your birthday. Even if it's the middle of January. Even if it's freezing. A bunch of us had agreed to do it with her, but when our alarm went off at 7:30, Sarah and I groggily agreed that after only 5.5 hours of sleep, our warm beds were more appealing than a freezing lake so we reset our alarm for later and attempted to return to dreamland. Our third roommate, Minna, however, rolled out of bed and convinced us to go, so we pulled on our sweatpants and fleeces and ran down through chilly drizzle to the rocky shore with a small troop of IslandWood grads and WAS instructors.
There was no reason to delay, so we stripped down to our underwear and ran in, shrieking bloody murder as we submerged our heads in water that was so cold we couldn't breathe. We ran back out as quickly as we had run in, still yelling obscenities at the cold, but with huge grins on our faces as we toweled off and pulled our clothes back on. Mountain lake jumping is something else that's right near the top of my list of favorite things to do, but I hadn't done it in years, mostly because I've spent the majority of the past four years in Ohio where mountain lakes are as prevalent as Egyptian pyramids (read: non-existent), so being back in the beautiful Cascade mountains and starting my day by bolting into a freezing mountain lake was exhilarating and a refreshing renewal of who I am now that I'm back in the Pacific Northwest. Not to mention, the most startling and invigorating way to wake up ever.

Awhile later, we cleaned out our rooms, packed up our cars, and waved goodbye to our new NCI and WAS friends, but the weekend didn't end there. A few of us made a detour into Rockport State Park, home of some of the biggest old growth in the Skagit Valley. The sun shown down in misty streaks into the mossy eden and many of the trees were wider than I am tall. We took a lovely hike through the ancient forest and marveled at what those trees must have witnessed in their lifetime.

Then we piled back into the cars and drove back towards Seattle, making a pit-stop at an authentic Mexican food trailer where we ate spicy chicken tacos and the cook asked me for my number. Once in Seattle we celebrated Kelly's birthday at a German pub for awhile before heading back on the ferry to Bainbridge where we collapsed from exhaustion.

The weekend was an incredible mountain retreat into which I poured heaps of physical and social energy. It was an extraordinary feeling to be exploring the magnificence of my own Pacific Northwest backyard while seizing every possible moment and a reminder to do it more often.

Home for the Holidays!

2010-01-20T22:19:00.000-08:00

This is a quick post about winter break since I jumped right from the beginning of December to the beginning of January in my last two posts.

For the first time in four years, I didn't have to navigate any airports to get home for the holidays. No flight cancellations due to inclement weather. No stale airplane air. No lugging my suitcases from one terminal to another. Instead, I bought a train ticket from Seattle to Portland and rode down in style on the tracks alongside Puget Sound while reading Barbara Kingsolver's The Poisonwood Bible and sipping root beer from the dining car. My whole life I had wanted to travel by train and while not as romantic as I had dreamt it to be, the experience was much more pleasant than air travel.

I arrived home just in time to fry up some latkes and celebrate the final night of Chanukkah with my dad, complete with candles, Chanukkah stories, and dreidel spinning. A significant portion of the next day was spent with my mom traversing our favorite Christmas tree farm seeking out the perfect tree to brighten up our living room for the holiday season. We nicknamed the one we decided on 'Spring Green' because of its cheery bright green hue. The next morning, we drove north to my gramma's house in Sequim, which just so happens to be only a couple hours from IslandWood, so I practically returned to where I had come from only two days prior. We celebrated an early Christmas with my gramma, saw my cousins perform in their church's rendition of A Christmas Carol, and generally enjoyed the feeling of the season with family.

Christmas Eve and Christmas Day both brought delicious food (think: roasted lamb, baked apples, pumpkin coconut chicken soup, rosemary asparagus, pan de yuca, apple sausage, and pumpkin ice cream sundaes), a leisurely morning of presents, walks through the neighborhood, sunshiny runs through Grant Park, and countless games of chickenfoot dominoes. It was a very relaxing Christmas spent with my family and I'm very grateful to be able to enjoy a Christmas of plenty while others aren't so fortunate.

The rest of break in Portland was a whirlwind of city outings, catching up with good friends, and a trip up to the mountain for some cross-country skiing at Teacup Lake. I went out to tea with Katya at Tea Chai Té on NW 23rd, continued the tradition of spending a few hours at Pied Cow hashing out life with Audrey, strolled the waterfront and esplanade with Erin discussing the concept of home, wished Adrienne a buen viaje on her way to Ecuador for the semester, shopped in sweet little boutiques for a new winter coat with my mom, and had ginger buckwheat pancakes with my dad at Cup & Saucer. The trip up to Mt. Hood was lovely too, and although the snow conditions weren't optimal, it was still fabulous to be back on my skis after such a long time and return to my favorite ski trails around Teacup Lake. It also snowed in Portland for a day, which is a rare and wonderful occurrence! I took many walks through the neighborhood and caught many a snowflake on my tongue that afternoon and evening. It was beautiful to see Portland transformed into a Winter Wonderland and all of its residents turn into children again as they run outside with wonder and joy on their faces.

After another train trip back up north spent chatting with my enjoyable seatmate and gazing at the water and small towns zipping by my window, I lugged my suitcase, backpack, computer bag, and ski bag into a taxi, through the ferry terminal, and across the sound and was more than happy to finally deposit them all in the trunk of Leora's borrowed car when she picked me up from the ferry dock in Winslow. Off and away we went to celebrate New Year's. Our last few hours in 2009 consisted of catching up over Mexican food, casually celebrating East coast New Year's with Greta, Matt, and Kelsey since they were getting up early to go snowboarding the next day, and playing Scrabble in front of the fire with Minna, Ilya, and Minna's friend Lisa. It was all a very relaxing way to spend the evening, but a half hour before midnight Leora and I politely excused ourselves from Minna's house, drove back to IslandWood, and hiked through the forest to the canopy tower. There, we climbed the 179 steps 120' up to the top deck above the treetops as the thick curtain of clouds parted and revealed the Blue Moon (2nd full moon in one month) and millions of bright stars. A few minutes before twelve, fireworks started going off across the water in neighboring towns further south along the sound, and at midnight we howled at the silvery moon to welcome in 2010. We spent the next two hours listening to other people around the island yip and holler when their own clocks struck midnight, star-gazing, picking out constellations, making New Year's resolutions, reflecting on life, calling back to the sea lions barking down at the harbor, watching giant bats flit across the sky, and marveling at the magic of it all. It was the perfect way to ring in the New Year.

The next few days were spent showing Leora IslandWood in the daylight, and celebrating the New Year in the Japanese tradition at the Mochi festival (see previous entry + the video I just uploaded in that entry of me pounding the mochi!).

I also saw a total of four movies in theaters over break: Up in the Air, Invictus, The Blind Side, and Avatar. I was very impressed with all of them. In different ways, granted, but I would highly recommend each one of them, which hasn't happened much in the last few years of movie releases. So do yourself a favor and find time to watch all of them at some point, most importantly Avatar because the message Avatar has for the human race is one that is still not heard loudly enough.

Needless to say, winter break was a time of much merriment and love. Winter quarter has now begun and it couldn't be busier. Lots of teaching, work, and life to figure out. I'll do another update soon about it all, plus the weekend retreat I just spent at North Cascades Institute high up in the mountains!

Hope 2010 is treating everyone well!

Mochi Celebration, Adventure Races, New Classes

2010-01-11T00:27:00.000-08:00

(This is my most recent entry for the official EEC blog. I'll post a separate one on here soon summing up the last weeks of teaching, finals, and winter break.)

2010 is off to a great start with a week full of great new ways for us to push ourselves to become the best environmental educators we can be!

On Sunday, the annual Mochi Tsuki Celebration was once again held at IslandWood. Every year the Bainbridge Island Japanese American Community puts on the Mochi Tsuki Celebration as a homage to the age-old Japanese New Year's tradition where the delicious Japanese rice treat of mochi is made by hand. The event is famous on the island and people from Seattle even make the ferry trip over to experience the festivities. With a reputation like that, there was no way I was going to miss it!

Much of the mochi-making took place outdoors where sweet rice was steamed over wood fires until it was sticky. It was then transferred to a large stone mortar where members of the audience volunteered to help pound it repeatedly with heavy wooden mallets. The mochi pounding looked like so much fun that I decided to try it, and it was a blast! Between each rapid blow of my mallet, one of the event workers stretched and flipped the mochi, making me nervous that I was going to break his fingers, but he knew what he was doing and he got the whole audience laughing and cheering.

After about 15 minutes, the mochi had a soft doughy consistency and, still warm, it was taken to a table inside where kids and adults alike waited eagerly to roll it into balls with sweet bean paste in the center. What resulted were delectable balls of soft stretchy mochi that were gobbled up by the crowds of participants!

The rest of the event was fascinating as well, with historic displays about the deportation of the Japanese Americans from Bainbridge Island during WWII and multiple taiko drumming performances that left everyone's hearts racing and faces smiling. I got to see my mentor, Greg, and his baby daughter, Josephine at the celebration too! (See BIJAC's website for further information about their organization and the Mochi Tsuki Celebration.)

The quarter officially started for the grads on Tuesday and after sharing stories about our winter breaks over breakfast in the Great Hall, we split into groups for an adventure race around IslandWood! From the garden to the suspension bridge to the pond to the treehouse we ran, completing various IslandWood-themed tasks at each venue to earn points for our team.

At one place, we had to work as a team to help one of our teammates scurry sideways along a rope to get a rubber chicken tied midway up a tree. At the suspension bridge, we had to lead our teammates blindfolded across the bridge without them touching the railings. At the pond, we had to fill a container of water using only our hands. The race was a lot of fun and it was a great way to reconnect with our fellow grads and get reacquainted with all the trails.

The rest of the week held many workshops, classes and trainings to enhance our teaching.

We had a tracking outing with our Natural History & Ecology course, learned how to use IslandWood's collection of Native American baskets to teach our students about the cultural history of the region, met with our mentors to prepare to start teaching again, fine-tuned some of the watershed curriculum activities, improved our liaison skills, and learned about the sustainable features of IslandWood's buildings. Three of our four winter quarter classes began as well. I'm particularly looking forward to learning how to use visual, musical, movement, and theatre arts to teach environmental science lessons in the Arts Integration course and the 'visionary schools' project that spans both the Foundations of Education course and the Curriculum & Instruction Methods course. For this project, we get to develop plans for founding our ideal school. My mind is already racing with visions of school gardens, service-learning components, outdoor adventure trips, mixed-age classrooms, and lots of experiential learning opportunities in my ideal school!

Sunset from Ferry, photo by Emily Jane Schankerman (EEC grad)

Tomorrow we start our first team-teaching week of the quarter. I can't wait to see the kids' grinning faces as they get off the buses!

Bog Cranberries, Team-Teaching, Tiny Horses and Thanksgiving!

2009-12-01T17:29:00.000-08:00

The last couple weeks have held many exciting activities!

For Cohort B's Super Monday session (a bi-weekly 2-hour supplemental training), we got to explore IslandWood's bog for the first time! A bog is a very delicate ecosystem, so we only teach our students about it from the edges, but for our Super Monday session, we were led through it by two of our prime naturalist instructors, Karen and Greg. We donned our rubber boots and rain gear, and braved the pouring skies to learn more about this rare and exciting ecosystem! In pairs, we became experts on different bog plant species then took turns teaching other pairs about our plant in Each One Teach One style, a teaching method we use often with students since it empowers them to share their knowledge with others.
My partner, Minna, and I became experts on the bog cranberry, a species of wild cranberry that grows in bogs throughout the Pacific Northwest. It was interesting to learn about the cultural uses of the bog cranberry in native tribes and how to distinguish it from the mountain cranberry.
We had a blast snacking on juicy, and sometimes sour, little cranberries as we taught our peers about their unique characteristics and helped them pick prime berries to taste. We then continued our trek through the soggy bog to learn about other plant species from our fellow grads, sometimes sinking up to our knees in the wet sphagnum moss. The whole bog experience was certainly a memorable one spent learning, laughing, and absolutely loving our job as outdoor educators.

Last week was supposed to be another solo-teaching week for Cohort B, but one of the schools that was scheduled to come had to drop out because their administration decided to cancel all field trips this fall to limit any potential exposure to swine flu, so most of us ended up team-teaching since there were fewer kids than expected. I had the opportunity to teach with my friend Jenn who was a middle school science teacher for two years before coming to IslandWood. We were the leaders of Team Ravine, and boy did we have a blast! Our kids were excited about everything we did and always had interesting and thoughtful comments to add to group discussions. I was able to try out a new approach for facilitating the Community Agreement (a set of guidelines for the week that the kids come up with for themselves) at the beginning of the week and had much success. I also led a really thought-provoking discussion and exploration at the Blakely cemetery, focusing on how much the people who are no longer with us can teach us about the history of the place where they lived. I'm always impressed with how respectful and pensive the children are when exploring the cemetery. They don't hesitate to delve into questions of how the people died, how old they were when they died, who they are buried with, and what kinds of lives they led when they were alive. Those are just a couple highlights of what turned out to be a very enjoyable week. Even though Jenn and I had different teaching styles, we learned a lot from each other, and were kept laughing the whole time by our enthusiastic and humorous kiddos.

Team Ravine having a W.A.M.!

(Water Appreciation Moment)

On the last day of every teaching week, it is tradition for all the instructors to dress up with some kind of theme. Past themes have included pajama day, sunglasses in the rain, awkward tuck day, and 80s hairdo day. Cohort A even did one where they all wore unicorn horns that they had individually decorated with ribbons, glitter, and paint since their cohort's mascot is the unicorn.

Not to be outdone, this week Cohort B decided to show off the extreme pride we have for our mascot, the Tiny Horse (lonnng story involving deer tracks resembling tiny horse hoof prints...), so I made everyone "Tiny Horse Bling" using my childhood collection of My Little Ponies and horse figurines. Each team-teaching pair picked out their own tiny horse necklace, then we sported our tiny horse bling with prideful grins the whole day!

Cohort A doing our Tiny Horse gallop!

(we're obviously the coolest people you know...)

At the end of the short teaching week, I got bigs hugs from all of my Team Ravine kids as they boarded the bus, waved goodbye as they pulled out of the parking lot, had an interesting debrief lunch with the rest of Cohort B and our mentors, then jumped in the car with my fellow grad, Kelly to drive down to Portland for Thanksgiving!

It was my first Thanksgiving home since high school because I went to college in Ohio and could never fly back west just for the weekend, and a perfect Thanksgiving it was. I truly have so much to be grateful for in my life! Lots of delicious food, wonderful times with family, long talks with friends, contra dancing, hot tubbing, game-playing, and pet cuddling filled the long weekend. I even baked a gluten-free pecan pie and two gluten-free pumpkin pies from scratch! Now I'm rejuvenated for another three weeks of teaching, studying, and exploring before winter break!

My First Nighttime Sit Spot Experience

2009-11-17T22:37:00.000-08:00

As part of my Natural History and Ecology course, we had to pick a place anywhere on IslandWood’s land to be our Sit Spot. We were told to return to our spot twice a week in September and once a week for the rest of the year to understand it intimately in all its seasonal changes. Each time we go, we’re supposed to sit for at least a half hour, and simply be in that place, observing the goings on of the natural world around us. We’re also encouraged to go at different times of day and in different weather so as to get to know our spot in all its diversity.

My Sit Spot is against a large tree root along an open part of the marsh shoreline, with views over the cattail marsh on one side and into the shady hemlock forest on the other side. In September and October, I went to my spot many times, in rain and in sun, but always in the daylight.

However, on November 4th, I did my first nighttime sit! It was so thrilling and peaceful at the same time. The moon was full, or maybe right on the verge of being full and the its light reflected off the water in the marsh, setting a peaceful, all-is-right-with-the-world mood to the scene. The walk to my spot via the eastern side of the Marsh Loop was adventurous and stunning in its darkness. The moonlight did not penetrate the forest in most places and no matter how long I stopped and waited, my eyes did not seem to adjust any further. It seemed like there just wasn’t enough light for them to adjust to. I had use my "fox feet" to sense what was ahead of me as I walked along the trail. I tested each step with my toes as there were many roots, fallen logs, and minor changes in elevation, many of which I don’t think I’ve consciously noticed before since I’ve taken my sense of sight for granted during the other hikes to my spot. I made my way along the trail very slowly and just had to trust myself that I had taken that path enough times to know most of the twists and turns, although sometimes I stood in one place for a few seconds trying to distinguish any of the shapes and shadows ahead of me to figure out where to go next. I finally made it to my spot after what felt like ages and was in awe of the moonlit world that glowed in front of my eyes. As I settled down, I noticed a star, or possibly a planet, was shining right at the tip of the tall skinny snag a ways out in the marsh, making it resemble a candlestick. Over the course of the half hour I was there, the time of which I could just faintly make out by tilting my watch into the moonlight, the stars moved in a SE direction, so even just a few minutes after my arrival, the snag was no longer a candlestick glowing bravely in the dark marsh.

Soon after I sat down, I heard a rustling in the branches to my right and a tiny movement in the water. It seemed like the animals were stirring in their nighttime rest to make sure that I was not a threat, but then went back to being still or asleep, and I didn’t hear another sound of wildlife the rest of the time I was there. I did, however, hear a very loud floater plane or helicopter that flew right overhead. It was a shock after getting used to the calm and peacefully quiet night and so it probably seemed louder than it would have in the day since it was such a stark contrast. Soon enough, it flew out of range and the soothing hush fell over the forest and marsh once again. Since there was now more light for my pupils to take in, I noticed my eyes were adjusting and could make out more dimensions of the world around me. I couldn’t see any insects or bats flying over the marsh and wondered why. Dogs barked far away, and their voices sounded absurdly domestic compared to what I knew was roaming around me in the forest. The moon rose higher, up to about 25° over the SE horizon, and my body temperature fell lower, prompting me to pull the flaps of my hat farther down over my ears and tie the cords tighter under my chin. Since the sense I usually use the most, my sense of sight, was so much diminished, I noticed that some of my other senses had become heightened. For instance, my nostrils were working overtime trying to take in as many scents as they could and I became aware that my hat smelled like pears—how peculiar. Another sense that was heightened was my sense of hearing, as I desperately hoped I would hear any sort of animal that may be displeased with my presence before it stumbled upon me. Because of this, I was also very aware my own sounds; my breathing, my feet rubbing against the dirt, and the scratching of my pencil as I blindly jotted notes in my “Rite in the Rain” all sounded monsturous in volume.

Before tucking my notebook back into my backpack, I took a moment to appreciate the glowing patches of light the moon made on the florest floor. Then, trying not to let myself get too caught up in thought of the recent coyote spottings in the area, the howls that had been heard the night before on IslandWood’s land, the fatal coyote attack that had just occurred in Canada, and the fact that it was a full moon, I rose from my Sit Spot and made my way slowly but confidently around the rest of the Marsh Loop towards the cabins, singing “Baby Moon” softly the whole time in hopes that I would alert any coyote residents that a human was coming long before I happened to step on its den....

The whole experience was transformational and I returned to my cabin that night feeling triumphant and at ease with life.

2009-11-15T23:22:00.000-08:00

You can read all about my liaisoning experience and the grads' Halloween party at the official EEC blog that I'm contributing to here:

http://islandwoodeec.blogspot.com/

Enjoy!

Love to all,
Me

The First Two Months and All That Jazz: Installment II

2009-11-09T21:36:00.000-08:00

The last week of September slipped into October when we weren't watching. The last apples were bought from the Farmers Market and a chilly bite began to lace the air.

The last weekend in September, a bunch of IslandWoodies went to the Harvest Fair. It was a beautifully sunny day and the farm hosting the event was full of hay rides, pie contests (the head IslandWood chef, Jim, was the head judge!), barbecue, sheep sheering, giant zucchinis, live folk and bluegrass music, pony rides, corn-on-the-cob sharing, fresh hot apple cider, and happiness.

(Recession Pie, made with green tomatoes!)

The week that led from September into October was extremely overwhelming because even though we hadn't finished our two summer quarter courses (and still haven't), we started our three fall quarter courses and our year-long practicum course. Talk about a heavy courseload! So now, in addition to our Natural History & Ecology and Classroom Management courses, we also have Child Development, Science Methods, Environmental Education: History, Issues, and Methods, and our student teaching practicum. I'm starting to figure out how to balance it all, but it does get overwhelming at times trying to juggle all of my coursework in addition to teaching in the School Overnight Program and my two campus jobs. My two jobs are EEC Marketing Assistant and EEC Media Relations Blogger. As the marketing assistant, I give tours to prospective grads and figure out good ways to publicize the EEC (Environment, Education, & Community) graduate program to potential students all over the country. Plus, if someone else is giving the tour and wants to show a grad cabin to the prospective student, I get paid for a half hour of cleaning my room to keep it presentable for the tour. Sweet deal, huh? Not many people can say they get paid to clean their room! For my other job as one of the EEC bloggers, I will be contributing entries to the official IslandWood EEC blog that anyone who is interested in the program can read to get a better feel of what we do here and what we think of it. There are two other bloggers, Ally and Diana, so we're going to switch off weeks we write. I'll let you all know if I write anything on that blog that I think is noteworthy.

The first full week in October, we finally started teaching! That week was team-teaching week, so I was in a team with two other grads, E.J. and Lily. The week was exciting since we had been waiting so long to actually be working in the field with kids, but it was also challenging in many unforeseen ways. The kids we had were a handful, but trickier than that turned out to be the task of melding the instructors' three very different teaching styles into something the kids could rely on for the week. The kids never really got into a rhythm since we expected very different things from them, but I think they still had a good experience. I learned a lot from my team teachers and picked up a few things to try from their teaching styles, but for the most part, I was relieved when the week was over. Thinking about not only how to teach the kids and have a successful week with them but also having to think about how to have a successful week with my team teachers was too much to handle and I eagerly awaited when I could have my own group.

That weekend, I had a handful of very special visitors! My mom came for the whole weekend, and my Gramma and Aunt Terri came for Sunday afternoon. I loved sharing my IslandWood world with all of them! My mom got to meet lots of my fellow grads that I've been talking so much about and sleep in my wonderful treetop loft. We had sweet mother daughter talks and cuddle times, thoroughly explored IslandWood, and spent a morning kayaking.

(We found the Frog Rock, one of Bainbridge Island's quirks!)

When my Gramma and Aunt Terri came on Sunday, we went out to eat at The Public House (fondly referred to as the Pub), ate ice cream in the autumn sunshine in front of Mora, strolled through town a bit, and toured IslandWood on golfcart since my grandma couldn't hike the trails. It was fantastic having three generations of women here together! And Gramma and Aunt Terri brought me yummy homemade applesauce, strawberry-rhubarb preserves, and a bowlful of crisp apples from Terri's garden!

That week, I did a lot of studying and classes, but I also got to visit my liaison school, Roxhill Elementary, and teach them an IslandWood pre-lesson, something to whet their appetites for coming to IslandWood! I did a lesson in both 5th grade classes where the kids got to collage together their own mural of an ecosystem as they learned about the different abiotic, biotic, and cultural parts! It was a little chaotic at times, but all in all lots of fun!

The next weekend, I took advantage of an offer that one of IslandWood's board members had donated to anyone who wanted to go: a private tour of the Tacoma Glass Museum led by the museum's curator and the head artist of the featured exhibit, Preston Singletary. Preston Singletary is a renowned Native American glass artist and his pieces were very beautiful. I didn't take any photos inside the museum, but here are a few from outside.

That night, Greta, Susie, and I went to the Pumpkin Walk, an annual event put on by the Bainbridge Gardens where there are over 300 Jack-O-Lanterns lit up along a pathway through the gardens. Some were even in themed displays! So cool!

Three weeks ago, I finally began solo teaching, the core reason why I'm here! I had my very own group of nine 5th graders from Concord International School to teach and explore with for four days, and it was a blast! Concord is very ethnically diverse and seven of my nine kids were latino/a, which I loved! Our group had such a fantastic energy and zest and really bonded through the ups and downs of the week.

Some days there were no discipline issues, while other days it felt like I was constantly having to address something. One of the days there were no issues was Harbor Day. We had a great brainstorm session on what a watershed is, watched a short video about the cultural history of Blakely Harbor (it used to be the biggest mill in the world!), then trooped down the trails to the to see it for ourselves. We had fun exploring under rocks to find crabs, played detective to find evidence of the mill, and spotted a Great Blue heron on a rock a little ways away.
The rest of the day we had a humorous lunch, hiked the Lower Loop trail, and did some very peaceful activities on the Suspension Bridge. On the bridge, all the kids laid down on their stomachs to observe the world around them and under the bridge then wrote about it in their journals and shared what they had written with the rest of the group in a relaxing gathering in the middle of the bridge. This was probably my favorite time with the kids all week and I really saw some of them come out of their shell.

We also saw tons of banana slugs that day! It's an IslandWood tradition to kiss or lick a banana slug to feel the tingly sensation on your lips or tongue, so 6 of my kids, their teacher who was spending the day with us, and the chaperone all kissed banana slugs that day! I was so proud of them!

The rest of the week was somewhat of a roller coaster. We had a fine night hike, until I came back to the prep room that evening after dropping the kids off at their lodge to hear that one or two of them, unbeknownst to me, had been mischievously throwing gravel at another group who was gathered on a landing below while we were doing silent solo sits on the pond dam . The next day had to begin with a serious talk from the SOP coordinator, so that got us off on a little bumpy start plus many of the kids were coming down with colds, so the morning was a little more frustrating, but after a lunchtime discussion about how we had to turn things around, we had a fun afternoon on the Floating Classroom and examined marine invertebrates in the lab. We wrapped up the last day with an exciting garden exploration, dynamic People & Places mindmap, and a reflective letter to themselves activity in the Living Machine. It finally felt like everyone really understood the rhythm of being in Team Rain and I wished that I could have had them for a couple more days.

I felt very close to all but one of my kids and thought I had built a good rapport with all but that one, since I kept having to address discipline issues with him. During the closing Friendship Circle, all the kids at IslandWood have a chance to give gratitude to someone or something that they are thankful for from that week. That Thursday, many kids were thanking their instructors and I casually glanced around the circle to see if any of the kids I had become close with would thank me. Then I heard a voice from across the circle saying, "I'd like to thank my instructor, Zoë." I looked and it turned out to be the one kid I hadn't thought I had reached! The one kid I thought hadn't liked me! And lo and behold, he was the one thanking me! It really showed me that if you keep believing in a child and showing them that you value them as a person no matter what they do, they're going to understand and appreciate that. I saw that sometimes we impact our kids more than we realize. That moment really tied together my whole week beautifully, and my kids and I all gave each other big hugs before they got on the bus. I think I'll always remember them for what we went through together my first week of solo teaching and how much I learned from them. They're great kids and I was able to tell them individually on that last day how much I know they're going to change the world. I miss them already!

The weekend before Halloween was a long weekend for Cohort B. I went to the pumpkin patch with Minna, her daughter Anneli, and Ilya on Saturday, which was so much fun! How can you beat getting to go with a 2-year old on her first trip to the pumpkin patch? It was sunny and beautiful and we bought too many pumpkins and ate sweet corn right off the stalks.

I decorated my porch with all the harvest bounty from the pumpkin patch too! How festive!

(The most beautiful Indian corn I've ever seen!)

Saturday night was Kate's 90's themed birthday party, which was supposed to be a dance party but ended up being a late night Taboo marathon complete with pages of hilarious memorable quotes.

Sunday and Monday were spent finishing my species accounts, which are page-long reports and drawings of 15 IslandWood species, ranging from the Big Brown bat to Old Man's Beard lichen. Sunday was also Howl-O-Ween, the Halloween event IslandWood puts on every year. I took a quick study break to peek in on the end of the event.

Especially impressive were the pumpkins that IslandWood's kitchen staff carved. They worked on them all week!

On Tuesday I gave my first tour to a prospective grad, which was a lot of fun. She kept saying the same sorts of things that I did when I first discovered IslandWood, like "If I designed my own graduate program I don't think it would be as perfect as this!" and I got to honestly say to her that I said the same things when I was a prospective student and I still think they're true. Then I took the ferry and the "Frog Car" (IslandWood's Prius) over to Seattle to lead an informational meeting for the parents of Roxhill, my liaison school, with Soren, the head of school partnerships. It went well and I got really excited for my Roxhill kids to come the following week!

Last week they finally came, and I got to try on the liaison hat for the week, which was a new and exciting role for me! I had a great team of other liaisons, Charlie and Liz, since their schools were here this week too, and we rocked the liaison duties! I love those kids!

More to come on that later since there's so much to say about it and this entry is long enough. More to come on our pumpkin carving party, Halloween, and a brief weekend foray to Portland in the next entry too!

If you made it through both installments of these entries, you're a rockstar. Summarizing 2 whole months is a big task and I even feel guilty that I left some things out!

As always, I love hearing your thoughts and feedback, so please don't hesitate to drop a quick comment.

Love to everyone,

The First Two Months and All That Jazz: Installment I

2009-10-28T03:08:00.000-07:00

(entry started 10/26/09, finished 10/28/09)

First of all, thank you to everyone who wrote me little notes in the comment section or via email about how much they enjoyed reading my last entry. I'm keeping this blog primarily to have a place where I can spill all my thoughts on everything that happens during the course of this IslandWood journey, but I also wish I could bring everyone I love here to share this incredible place with me, so knowing that you're reading my words and enjoying them is the next best thing.

Since I spent the whole last entry writing about the physical place of IslandWood, I feel like I should try to summarize what I've been doing here since I arrived on August 26th. Wow, today is October 26th. I just realized I've been here exactly 2 months. In some ways it feels like it's just flying by. I already know that when the time comes to leave this place, I'll look back and wonder where it all went. It will be one of those years that slips through my fingers like sand and I'll just have to scramble to catch as many seashells as I can as it goes by. On the other hand, however, it feels like much more than 2 months have passed. We've done so much and I've already learned so much that it seems impossible that it all fit into just a little over 8 weeks. Mind-boggling, in fact. I literally just counted the weeks on the calendar over and over again thinking I must be making a mistake somewhere since there's no way for it all to have fit. But it's true. 2 months. 8 1/2 weeks. 62 days. Countless moments of discovery.

The theme of the first week was "Sense of Place". It was a time for us to figure out where we had come, why we were here, and how this place was going to cradle our year of growth as educators and people. We did solo walks along the trails guided by notecards with inspirational and thought-provoking quotes, questions to ponder, and small actions to take, such as touching moss and counting the bird calls we could hear. We were led through the forest blindfolded to touch various leaves, taste berries, wrap our arms around tree trunks, feel the soil, and other experiences excluding our sense of sight. At one point I was led to a small lean-to fort that had been made with sticks propped against a large Douglas Fir tree. I felt around blindly and figured out what it was then found the entrance and crawled inside. I sat there with my back against the trunk imagining the small fort around me. The staff ended the activity by leading us to a clearing among tall cedar trees, laying us down while still blindfolded, and sprinkling sticks, pieces of bark, and cedar sprigs on our bodies. In the silence that followed, it felt like we were getting a glimpse of what it might feel like to return to the earth someday when our lives have been lived to their fullest.

The theme of the second week was "Making Connections". Our 'Natural History & Ecology' and 'Classroom Management' courses started, both focusing a lot on small group discussions, interactive projects, and brainstorming sessions. The grads come from a wide variety of backgrounds, and those backgrounds began to come out of the woodwork during the class discussions as people talked about different experiences they had had while teaching public school, doing scientific fieldwork, working at summer camps, being part of co-ops, living on the streets of Seattle, being in the army, being home-schooled, working at bike shops, rehabilitating wild animals, and hailing from all parts of the U.S. As I began to get to know my fellow grads both in the classroom and out, I got more and more excited about this eclectic group of people I was going to be spending the next 10 months with.

During the second week, we also got to know the rest of our IslandWood family a little better at the 'All Staff and Grad Picnic'. We traversed the grounds on a geo cache hunt in teams then ate catered Mexican food while the sons and daughters of staff broke open piñatas and made ice cream in ziploc bags filled with ice and rock salt. That weekend brought an intensive Wilderness First Aid training, which counted as Wilderness First Responder re-certification for me. The 16 total training hours were chock full of acronyms to help us remember treatment protocol (ABC = airways, breathing, circulation & R.I.C.E. = rest, ice, compression, elevation), practicing bandage wraps on each other, and lots of fake injuries, blood, and symptoms that we had to treat in outdoor scenarios. It was a lot to re-learn and remember in two days but I passed my re-certification practical skills exam and written test, so I guess I could save someone in the backcountry if it came down to it. I hope....

During these first few weeks, there was a prevalence of blackberries along the trails, beside the roads, and around the graduate commons so we all had perpetually stained fingertips, ate homemade blackberry jam, and watched the fawn triplets and their mother nibble the sweet berries off the vines.

The third week was a blast. Since we here at IslandWood are big believers in experiential learning, what better way to learn how to teach IslandWood curriculum to 4th-6th graders than to be the students ourselves?! So that week, we split into groups with staff instructors to simulate a condensed School Overnight Program (SOP) week, so for four days we got to be the kids!

We cranked the Floating Classroom to the middle of the pond to take water samples.

We collected water invertebrates to inspect under microscopes.

We hiked down to the harbor to look for crabs and measure the tidal changes, we did a scavenger hunt at the cemetery, we learned the ABCs of the ecosystem (Abiotic, Biotic, Cultural), made a model of the watershed, did mind-maps in the Treehouse and the Learning Tree, ate in the dining hall, sang songs at campfire, and slept in the bunk beds in the student lodges on-campus.

It was a full and exhausting week but very fun since we were experiencing so many aspects of IslandWood that we had only heard about, but now were living! Plus, it was one big grad slumber party the night we spent in the lodge since we're never all together at night since some grads live off-campus and even those who live on-campus are split up among cabins and the grad lodge. I slept in a room with Ally, Lindsey, and Minna, who are three off-campus grads. It was interesting to talk to them as we drifted off to sleep that night about our reflections of the program so far, our hopes for the year ahead, and the differences between on and off-campus living.

The following weekend, I had my first big excursion into Seattle.

I stayed with Katya in her little studio apartment and helped her adopt a cat from the Humane Society (who now has a wonderful new home with Hillary, the IslandWood graduate program coordinator since Katya couldn't keep her).

I went out to dinner at an open-air Mexican restaurant with Yitka, then we went to Gasworks Park to see the cityscape at night. As we stood in the grass chatting with a homeless man who had struck up a conversation with us and taking pictures of the silhouettes of families and friends enjoying the night on one of the hills, we glanced up at the night sky and saw the longest, brightest shooting star we had ever seen! It started on one side of the sky and shot across the darkness with a brilliantly bright tail trailing behind and fell almost to the horizon! It was so long that we heard the exclamations of people all over the park as others pointed it out to them. Later, one of my professors told me that he had read in the newspaper that it wasn't actually a shooting star and was really a Japanese satellite at the end of its lifetime crashing through Earth's atmosphere!

Sunday morning I went out to French brunch with Rachel, who I haven't seen for three years.

Then Katya and I explored Pike Place Market, had delectable corn-on-the-cob Ecuadorian style with fresh cheese, and generally wandered around the city getting to know Capital Hill and Downtown Seattle.

Katya and I finished the weekend off with fancy drinks at the Tex-Mex restuarant her boyfriend works at then booked it back to the apartment so I could catch the ferry with Sarah.

I came back to the island that evening and went apple-picking with Minna, her daughter Anneli, and Ally the following morning. Minna's dad owns the Northwest College of Art so we strolled around the college's old estate land, picking wormy apples, unripe pears, and sour crab apples and climbing cedar boughs. It was a nice casual way to get to know all of them, plus I got a bagful of fresh apples and pears out of it!

The next week, we were split into the cohorts that we'll be in for the whole fall quarter, Cohort A and Cohort B. The cohorts have now have been given a variety of nicknames, such as (in A & B order) Cohort H2O (due to the torrential rainstorms that have occurred their teaching weeks) & Cohort H1N1 (due to swine flu sweeping through our cohort), Cohort "My golly, there's something really incredible going on here" (I have no idea why) & Cohort Survivors (due to us surviving swine flu, a horrible car crash, and an owl attack, respectively, all within the last month). Cohort A's mascot is the Unicorn and Cohort B's mascot is the Tiny Horse (long story... stemming from our Natural History class on tracking). I'm in Cohort B and there's definitely some competition between the two cohorts, although it's all playful. As you can see, a tiny horse is not afraid to take on a huge unicorn. ;)

Anyways, that week (Sept. 14), we were split into our cohorts. My cohort spent that week learning about our liaison duties, observing a liaison visit at a school in Seattle (which turned out to be my liaison school, Roxhill Elementary!), getting our UW orientation since we're technically also UW grad students, having more 'Natural History & Ecology' and 'Classroom Management' classes, and then rejoining Cohort B on Friday for training on how to use and debrief the Teams Course with kids. The Teams Course is a low ropes course with element names like Nitro, Islands, Mohawk Walk, Whale Watch, and Spiderwebs, all involving some challenge for a team to accomplish by working together. For instance, on Mohawk Walk, the team must get all members from the beginning to the end while tightrope-walking a foot off the ground between a few trees by holding onto each other and dangling ropes. The kids learn a lot about teamwork from the Teams Course and sometimes magic can happen with groups you never thought could work together but somehow pull through and form a bond that lasts the rest of the week.

(a small section of Mohawk Walk)

That weekend, most of the grads and many of the education staff went camping on Dungeness Spit, up near Sequim. I carpooled with Ilya, Minna, and her adorable 2-year old daughter Anneli. A major bridge was stuck open on the way up, so we sat in traffic for a couple hours and then later got lost while trying to find the campground but we had a blast joking around and walking Anneli up and down the side the road while waiting for the bridge.

I ended up starting to get sick the first night of camping, so I went home the next afternoon instead of staying the whole weekend like originally planned, but it was still fun with a boisterous group around the campfire the first night and a blustery hike along the ridge above the spit the morning before I left.

I spent the next few days with a moderate case of swine flu, being the fourth grad to come down with it. It spread like wildfire, especially in Cohort B, and about half the grads ended up coming down with it at some point.

When I finally started feeling better, I joined in mid-week to shadow IslandWood alumni who had come back to teach a week of SOP so that we could see what a real SOP week is supposed to look like with kids and an experienced instructor. The alumna I shadowed was named Corwine and she was great! We figured out that we had actually met briefly last January when I toured campus and she had shown me her cabin, which turns out is Sarah's side of my cabin this year! Corwine had a real knack for working with the kids. Our group was from St. Thomas independent private school and consisted of very smart, goofy, creative kids. Corwine, Greta (who was shadowing with me), and I had a lot of fun with our St. Thomas kids and it was fantastic to finally be in the field with kids! My first experience with an actual SOP campfire was wonderful. The kids performed all the songs and skits, and they were hilarious! I sang, cracked up, and cheered, and then was contentedly reflective during the closing slideshow of pictures of the kids exploring IslandWood all week. I learned a lot from observing Corwine, although I wish I had not been sick because I missed out on a couple days of shadowing her that I think would have been very valuable.

That weekend, I went into town for a bit with Susie and Greta while the weather was still nice to experience the Farmers Market and Mora's infamous ice cream, which seriously deserves the reputation. I had one scoop of sabayon (marsala wine and egg custard) and one scoop of Mexican chocolate on a gluten-free cone. Blissfully delicious!

And that concludes the first installment of my 2-month reflection! I've already written the second installment, but I didn't want to overwhelm you by posting a single entry that would take ages to read so I'll post the second installment in a few days.

Thanks for reading, everyone!

As always, I love hearing your thoughts and feedback, so please don't hesitate to drop a quick comment.

Love to all,

Zoë

IslandWood is Home

2009-10-14T23:35:00.000-07:00

Since the moment I arrived, I've wanted to put my thoughts on my life here into words. This place has affected me so profoundly even though I've only been here for exactly 7 weeks today. The time has simply flown and I can already sense that a piece of my heart will remain here no matter where the rest of my life takes me. IslandWood has become home faster than any other place I've lived in my life outside of Portland.

I'm living in a cabin on the edge of the forest. A mother deer and her triplet fawns often come graze and nibble blackberries in the meadow in front of my cabin.

All around are towering Douglas firs and Big Leaf maples, which are currently swaying precariously in the high gusts of wind that are accompanying the torrential rain storm we've been having today. But oh wait! Patches of blue are now wafting overhead between puffy gray rain clouds. Even though I like autumn with its fiery leaves floating down to earth and the dried cornstalks propped against porch railings and piles of big orange pumpkins heaped at farm stands, there's always a part of my that clings onto the sunny flip-flop carefree weather of summer. I never want to say goodbye to the days of swimming in rivers, barefoot beach walks, sunny harbor kayak explorations, and late-night campfire gatherings, even though I know it's just for 7-8 months. So as much as I love the sound of rain on my roof as I'm falling asleep and puddle jumping, I can't help but smile as periwinkle blue sky and bright sunshine push through the storm.

(the left side is mine)

Ah, but I've been distracted. Back to my cabin. The front faces southwest so the afternoon light streams through the large picture window and higher row of three smaller windows, warming the interior of my cabin with a golden glow. When the sunshine comes in at just the right angle, it hits the mini disco balls I've hung from the rafters and sends dancing sparks of light swirling around my room, sometimes to a dizzying effect. I've decorated with lots of bright colors—reds, turquoises, oranges, yellows, blues, and pinks—so that I can walk into my room and step into an exotic land out of the rainy pacific northwest rainforest. I tucked all sorts of inspiring and memory-provoking mementos high and low, including photos of those I love, the Ecuadorian flag, the parasol I got in Chile, my Indian tapestry, soul collage cards, prayer flags and framed Z, O, Ë photos from Audrey, my "Always Evolve" painting on a wood cookie from Lili, my afghan my mom made me freshman year of collage, an Otavalo tablecloth, and lots of cards, letters, and images that I've received throughout the years. The furniture that came with the cabin is all made from Red Alder branches and saplings from IslandWood's land and is well crafted to show off the bark and varying colors of wood. And to top off the room, I have a small lemon tree that my mom gave me as a cabin-warming gift in a bright yellow pot on the side-table next to me. For the first month I was here, the lemon tree was blooming and filled my cabin with the sweet scent of lemon blossoms. Now, the blossoms have fallen, but a bouquet of sweet peas from the Bainbridge Farmers Market is perfuming my cabin nicely.

I moved my bed up to the loft where I tucked it next to the window. Now when I lie in bed, it's like a treehouse because I gaze out into the leafy branches of Red Alders on the edge of the forest behind me. In the mornings, birdsong from amidst the branches greets me and sometimes at night the loud hooting of barred owls echoes through the darkness. The cabin's water heater if up in my loft, and I've grown to be comforted by the tick-ticking it makes when it's warming up as it means hot showers and warm radiative heating from pipes in the floor.

The cabin building is divided into two halves, kind of like a duplex. I have one side and my cabinmate Sarah has the other. We have separate entrances and separate living spaces and lofts, but share a bathroom, to which we have separate doors. Sarah and I get along quite well and agree on the living expectations of sharing a space. We're very similar in many ways but also have taken different paths to get to IslandWood, so every conversation with her brings reassuring confirmations but also new insights and ideas to mull over. We've had a few cozy movie nights and a couple nice cabinmate dates. The first was out to 122 Winslow, a small fancy restaurant in town where I had the best salad of my life—a warm smoked trout salad with apples, bacon, potatoes, and balsamic onion vinaigrette. The second cabinmate date was to the Treehouse Café, a little spot in Lynwood with a warm ambience. We perched on tall chairs tucked in the back and talked over blackberry crisp and the dreamiest soy caramel steamer of my life. I like having my own space in the cabin, but I also really like having Sarah so nearby. We both need to spill our thoughts on the day's happenings some evenings when we come home so it's nice to have someone I trust, respect, and enjoy to do that with. We've both expressed that we're very excited to get to know each other more and I can't wait to continue to do that!

About 200 feet along a skinny path from my cabin is the Graduate Commons, where I share a kitchen, living room, study, and laundry room with the 15 other grads who live in cabins. Sounds pretty hectic, and sometimes it is, especially during dinner or breakfast rushes, but most of the time it's not too bad because we all eat at slightly different times so usually there are only 1-2 other people preparing food at the same time as me, while 1 or 2 others eat at the dining tables or hang on the couches or use the computers in the study. There are three fridges and plenty of food storage closets so we all have our own shelves, so that's not a problem. Plus, there are two stoves, two ovens, two microwaves, two toasters, and two sinks, so it's rare that there's an appliance someone needs that's too full to be used. The kitchen can get pretty messy but everyone seems to pitch in a fair amount to do general tidying and we all have assigned Commons jobs that rotate every two weeks. Even when it gets messy, it's not too irksome since I don't have to live there. I can always do some cleaning then escape back to the peace and order of my cabin. It's nice to have two different parts of my home, though. When I feel like being social, I can go to the Commons. If I need some time to chill by myself, I can hang out in my cabin. It's a good balance.

There's also a vegetable garden next to the Commons, so I've enjoyed fresh cucumbers and tomatoes, and others have harvested a lot of chard and kale. I also try to hit up the Farmers Market in Winslow on Saturdays if I can to stock up on other local fruits and veggies. I love fresh produce!

IslandWood itself is beautiful. Beyond words. There are 255 acres of gorgeous temperate rainforest, cattail marsh, bog, pond, ravine, and meadows, and miles of trails. But it's not just land; there are venues to use scattered about that kids helped design to add whimsy and exciting learning experiences. On the edge of the bog, a treehouse wraps around one of the tallest Douglas firs at IslandWood.

A bird blind perches on the shore of the marsh, with eye slots cut out at two heights so both adults and children can watch the red-winged blackbirds, kingfishers, wood ducks, and herons without the birds noticing their presence.

Stretching about eighty feet above the ravine is a suspension bridge that, although very sturdy, sways and bounces with excited kids on it. The floor of the bridge is metal grate so the kids can lie down and gaze through the holes at the stream at the bottom of the ravine, while feeling like they are levitating in the air.

Although kids helped design all of IslandWood, one of their most creative contributions was the floating classroom on Mac's pond. It's a square wooden raft with benches along the sides that detaches from the dock and can be moved along two underwater wires into the middle of the pond by students turning big metal cranks. Once in the middle, the kids can take water samples by lifting hatches in the floor.

Over 150 high, reaching above the treetops is the canopy tower which was just completed this year. I've heard watching the sunrise from up there is magical, although I have yet to do so myself. In one of the side ravines is the Learning Tree, which is a classroom on stilts, parallel to the tree branches with a deck encircling a hexagonal classroom with big windows and skylights.

On the edges of IslandWood's land are a historical cemetery and Blakely Harbor. Although not technically IslandWood property, these are great venues for teaching the kids about Bainbridge history. The cemetery has headstones dating back into the 1800s, some in Japanese and some clustering in familial groups with tiny headstones for babies. There's a Jewish section with piles of smooth round stones placed upon the headstones. There are also two graves of native women who had converted to Christianity and wanted to be buried in a Christian cemetery but were denied because they were native and so were buried right on the other side of the cemetery property line in the shrubbery on the edge of the forest.

Blakely harbor is a fun place to take the kids. It used to be the site of the largest mill in the world and still has all sorts of remnants and evidence of this, such as old water-worn bricks, the base wood beams of the mill buildings, and the skeleton of the electrical plant. The kids to get guess what happened there, then we show them a video of the mill's history when we return to campus. They also get to explore, climb on rocks, and seek out scurrying crabs.

The main campus itself is incredible. All the buildings are LEED gold-certified or higher. For those of you who aren't in the environmental spectrum, that means that they're all very sustainably built. Think sheets of solar panels on the roofs, a living machine to recycle wastewater, big windows facing south to collect light and heat, radiative floor heating, composting toilets, sustainable and/or recycled materials used, etc. And the best part of how sustainable the buildings are? All of the workings of the buildings that make them so sustainable are openly viewable instead of hidden behind walls so that the kids can see and learn what's happening. The main campus buildings are: the Dining Hall, the Admin building, the Learning Studios (where my graduate courses take place, the prep room for teaching is, and the microscope labs and classrooms for kids are located), the Welcome Center, the Art Studio, the Great Hall, Bluebill Cove (conference hall), and four lodges for kids and other guests to stay in (Invertebrate Inn, Birds Nest, Mammals Den, and Ichthyology Inn). Besides being sustainable, all buildings are beautiful and put off a very homey vibe.

Admin Building

Dining Hall

Art Studio

Learning Studios

Ichthyology Inn

The dining hall staff cook incredibly delicious food. As a grad, I only eat in the dining hall when I'm teaching the school overnight programs I am so well-fed during those weeks! They mostly make comfort food so the kids don't get homesick, which includes dishes like pancakes, bacon, sausage, fruit salad, and muffins for breakfast; sandwiches, chips, fruit, and cookies for lunch; and roast turkey, mashed potatoes, tacos, pizza, veggies, brownies, and homemade ice cream sandwiches for dinner. Sounds like pretty general camp fare but even though the dishes are common, the way the kitchen makes them is not. They use as many local and/or organic ingredients as they can and really put effort into making the food good. They don't think, 'Psh, it's just for kids, it doesn't have to taste good.' They value the kids just as much as anyone and really put effort into it. Plus, they pay extremely close attention to any dietary restrictions anyone has, which means that I don't have to skimp at meals just because I can't eat gluten! They've made me gluten-free pizza, polenta dishes, rice bread, gluten-free muffins, portabella mushroom pizzas, flourless chocolate torte, and chocolate mousse! I'm so grateful!

There's also a garden on campus. It's much, much bigger than the graduate garden since it used to both educate the kids and to provide some of the food used in the dining hall. It has a beautiful fountain, a cob oven, many beds full of lettuce, herbs, pumpkins, garlic, kale, chard, sunchokes, cauliflower, broccoli, beets, sunflowers, apple trees, bay leaf trees, jasmine vines, blueberries, cranberries, squash, peppers, nasturtiums, onions, comfrey, tomatoes, potatoes, and so much more! There's also a very high tech greenhouse that self-monitors everything from ceiling covers to ventilation slats and is filled with plants that prefer warmer climates like papaya, ginger, cactus, and stevia, which is so yummy! Just a teensy piece of stevia leaf fills your mouth with a strong sugary flavor! Not only do the grads have full access to the garden next to the Commons, since we maintain that one, but we're also welcome to help ourselves to the plentifully growing goodies in the campus garden too.

And I can't forget about the Friendship Circle! The Friendship Circle is where the kids and instructors all gather every morning for songs and an introduction to the day, and is also the place where Wednesday night campfire takes place, almost entirely filled with kid produced songs and skits, with the grads opening and closing the campfire with traditional African drumming. The Friendship Circle is a place of lots of music, smiles, and laughs.

(at Wednesday night campfire, there IS an actual fire,

this picture is from a morning gathering)

IslandWood is wonderful. I just can't get enough of the seas of ferns, the huge yellow Big Leaf maple leaves drifting to the ground, the rainbow of hemlock needles tucked into the crevices of roots, the spotted banana slugs plugging along, the fluttering Red Alder leaves spotting the canopy, the symphony of bird songs weaving through frog croaks, the nonchalant gaze of a black-tailed deer as she looks up from her munching, the barnacles polka-dotting every rock and brick at the harbor, the owls, bald eagles, ospreys, and great blue herons that grace us with their soaring presence, the towering Douglas Fir trees, the graceful Western Red Cedars, the funky-looking mushrooms that pop up overnight, the hammering of woodpeckers and sapsuckers ringing through the trees, the coziness I feel in every building especially my cabin, and above all the freshness of the air, pure and rejuvenating.

That's all I'm going to write for now because this entry is long and it's late. Hopefully this gives you an idea of my world right now. I'll write about the people I share this world with and everything I've been doing in it in the next entry or two. For now, just know I am happy and picture me in all the places I've just described.

Love to all. I hope you too are happy wherever you are.

Thanks for listening.

~Zoë