Louv’s book explores the rift between children today and nature experience, and suggest strategies to repair it. Photo © J.T. Thomas
Some of the fondest memories of my childhood are of the fun things I did outdoors after my mom said, “Go outside and play.” With neighborhood friends, I roamed the woods, climbed trees, built forts and played kick-the-can until I was summoned home to dinner. Other adults my age had similar experiences in nature, spending hours exploring natural areas near their homes. Unfortunately, many adults’ memories of outdoor play end with wistful head-shaking, a sigh and the lament, “Too bad our kids can’t do that anymore.” And everyone sadly nods in agreement.
Richard Louv, author of Last Child in the Woods: Saving Our Children from Nature-Deficit Disorder, talks with parents, children, teachers, scientists, religious leaders, child-development researchers and environmentalists about how the link between today’s children and nature has been severed. According to Louv, this separation from the natural world has some serious side effects, including a diminished use of the senses, attention problems and increased emotional and physical afflictions. In my own experience as an environmental educator, I have seen how the natural world is a powerful motivator for students of all abilities. Direct contact with nature can often improve self-esteem, reduce stress and increase creativity. A student who routinely struggles with traditional school assignments often flourishes when introduced to the same curriculum using the outdoors as a learning mode.
Today’s kids are, as Louv says, “increasingly disconnected from the natural world.” Instead of passing the summer months hiking, camping and telling stories around a campfire, they are more likely attending computer camps or weight-loss camps, leaving them thinking of nature as more of an abstraction than a reality. Shouldn’t we be worried that a 2002 British study revealed that eight-year-olds could identify Pokemon characters far more easily than they could name an otter, a beetle or an oak tree? Louv’s book provides insight into this problem, which he calls “nature-deficit disorder,” as well as solid advice on possible solutions.
When Louv was growing up, the children who wanted to stay indoors were considered the “weird” ones. “The woods were my Ritalin,” he said. “Nature calmed me, helped me focus.” Nature-deficit disorder is not a medical condition, but a description of the symptoms that are displayed when children are cut off from nature. How did this happen? Louv indicates that it is partly due to the proliferation of technology. Cable TV, video games, iPods and the Internet have all reduced the time children spend outdoors. Kids in this electronic generation may be able to recite data about the Amazon rainforest, but they’ve spent no time in the nearby woods. In one interview, a fourth grader in San Diego said, “I like to play indoors ‘cause that’s where all the outlets are.”
Louv points out that societal issues are also partly to blame. These include parents’ fear of the threats posed to their children by traffic, strangers, Lyme disease, mosquito-borne viruses and other hazards of the natural world. In the author’s words, “We have scared children straight out of the woods and fields.” Schools further alienate children from the natural world with their emphasis on more and more homework, their structured schedules and their lack of access to natural areas. Even neighborhood associations and city governments have put in place legal restraints that have restricted children’s outdoor play. It is not unusual for trees in parks or playgrounds to be cordoned off, preventing tree climbing and possible lawsuits. There are communities that prohibit the construction of even the simplest tree house without the proper building permit. Even good intentions have unintended consequences: Laws designed to protect endangered flora and fauna have eliminated or restricted access to large areas of coastline, meadowland and wilderness.
Louv argues for a return to a society where all citizens are aware of and have an appreciation for nature. Recognizing that “parents already feel besieged by the difficulty of balancing work and family life,” nature can be viewed as an antidote to many of the problems he identifies. He urges parents to be aware of the distinction between a “constructively bored mind” and a “negatively numbed mind.” He holds that constructively bored kids “eventually turn to a book, or build a fort, or pull out the paints and create.” Negatively numbed minds are primarily the result of hours of television and video games. Often the numbness wears off when the electronic devices are no longer available.
To help a bored child see that nature is an option worth pursuing, Louv has created a list of strategies caring adults can employ. He encourages adults to spend more time with children. Take them on walks in the nearest natural area, and limit the amount of time they spend watching a screen. Remember that special outdoor space you knew as a child and look around your neighborhood for a similar place to share with a child. Your job, he says, as a caring adult isn’t to hit them with another “fine educational opportunity,” but to show them that even the vacant lot behind your house is a cool place to visit. Avoid forced marches in favor of relaxed saunters with no particular goal in mind. One of his easier suggestions is to introduce children to gardening, having them plant seeds that germinate quickly and mature into plants that yield fruits or vegetables that are favored foods.
Louv’s book provides a much-needed look at the rift between children today and nature experience. He shows that it’s still possible for any parent, grandparent or other caring adult to reconnect children with the natural world. To re-create that sense of wonder about the world we live in that is so beneficial for children as well as adults, one just needs to open the door and step outside. So this holiday season, why not substitute the gifts of nature for those all-too-typical electronic gifts?
Tim Whitley is the director of the Rachel Carson Center, a natural resource program within Churchill High School in Eugene, Oregon.