As far as school field trips go, there are generally two
different types. There’s the kind where you go on a short tour
through a factory or local business, have a nice lunch, then come
home with tons of free samples. And there’s the kind where you
go
”
out among nature.
”
As far as school field trips go, there are generally two different types. There’s the kind where you go on a short tour through a factory or local business, have a nice lunch, then come home with tons of free samples. And there’s the kind where you go “out among nature.”
Bet you can’t guess which kind I like the best.
That said, you can imagine everyone’s surprise when I volunteered to go with my son’s third grade class to hike at the local wetland estuary – mind you, a place not only filled with nature, but one that was at least 25 miles from a Starbucks.
Now don’t get me wrong. I have nothing against field trips. I completely support their educational value. But I don’t need to tell you that the thought of being “out among nature” with a bunch of 8 year olds brings up all kinds of issues.
Like, for instance, will there be snakes? What about spiders? Can you wear trendy clogs instead of hiking boots? What’s the best way to get out of quicksand? If you’re late getting back, will you be left behind to fend for yourself? And, most importantly, can you bring coffee on the school bus?
If you think these aren’t important questions then – ha! Think again.
When we got off the school bus, we were greeted by a friendly park ranger, and I immediately relaxed.
In fact, I was all Zen as she guided us around while pointing out all sorts of fascinating wetland features. She told us that the Indians used the buckeye tree for fishing. And that you could boil the end of a pussy willow then eat it. And that we really should see the tule grass in the spring. And, oh yeah, did you know we’re standing in a field completely covered with snake holes? SNAKE HOLES?
“YEEEEEEEEEEEEK!” someone yelled. I turned to other parents and was about to launch into a diatribe about how adults really should learn how to control their personal fears and about how we should all be good role models for the children and all that, but I felt someone tugging on my sleeve.
“Mom,” my son hissed. “Stop screaming. You’re scaring the other kids.”
OK, so maybe it was me. But she did say “snakes”.
The rest of the day was a blur. That is, except for lunch. Which any fool knows is the main focus of any field trip. Now, before you raise your eyebrows at me, this is merely an observation. I mean, there you could be standing in the Louvre with a group of kids, and the docent could be saying, “And here is the rarest Da Vinci painting in the entire world. It’s made out of pure gold mixed with crushed rubies and is worth more than all of the European countries combined.” Someone will still raise their hand asking how long it is before they eat.
But let me just say, I didn’t leave the wetlands without learning a thing or two about life. I learned that despite potential snakes, the wetlands really isn’t such a bad place to go for somewhere without a shoe display or a food court and with a little luck and a big enough parka, it’s possible to sneak a cup of coffee onto the school bus.
