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Friday, July 15, 1988

UPRIVER REFLECTIONS: Georgian Bay

Flowerpot Island, Georgian Bay Islands National Park

July 15, 1988: Lynn Noel

Swimming in Georgian Bay is like flying. You can hang suspended over the drowned towers of the Niagara escarpment, like some stranger from the future exploring a giants' Atlantis. You can dive from the turreted rocks into bottomless space; then the water hits with the shock of glass as you break the surface, splintered bubbles flying white as ice, silver as a broken mirror. It's cold in the green depths and you surface gasping, your breath as ragged and tight in your chest as the thin air of a mountaintop. Then the water takes you, and you can scull and stroke and sculpt your way through this strange element that lets you fly as air will not, yet you cannot breathe it as air will let you. I wish I were a fish. Or a bird. But for a while, in the Bay, I can be both.

July 16, 1988: Teresa Garen

Planted on a rock and looking into the sparkling Georgian Bay, I can feel the touch of Nature. The cities, the highways, the noises all have a way of distracting me from that original force drawing me into conservation work: the experience of Nature itself. Today it calls to me. This piece of land surrounded by water (our journey's theme) has escaped distractions. Unnatural sounds are few: an occasional boat or airplane. A pair of preening ducks sit silhouetted against the sky, giving no attention to me. The sun falls, barely in sight; the clouds grow shades of pink and orange. The waves lap against the shore. No analogies are needed for the color of the sky, the smell of the air, the feel of the water. Each sensation is quite distinctly its own -- nothing else. Shadows grow longer, camp is far away. I am filled again with the energy of Nature, the energy drawing me back to work...

Thursday, June 30, 1988

UPRIVER REFLECTIONS: Jacques Cartier Provincial Park

Tuesday, June 30, 1988 6:00 p.m.

I'm ensconced in the gamekeeper's lodge at Jacques Cartier Provincial Park, deep in the heart of Québec just north of Québec City. Past both windows runs the Jacques Cartier River, swollen from the last week's rain. Around the bend upstream, I know, unfolds a glacier's causeway of sinuous valley, guarded by slate-blue cliffs with their secret hoods of mist. This secretive valley leads your mind's eye upriver into the boreal forest, wild rapids and lake-studded plateaux of the Canadian Shield. Heritage River indeed! The Jacques Cartier is what it's all about.

Yesterday we canoed this nominated Heritage River with Dénis Tremblay, Chief of Visitor Services. Oh, la belle rivière! Glossy in the brilliant sunshine after three days of rain, she was glorious, brimful, the ride of the summer. It was my first real taste of the voyageur's life this summer -- the reason I'm here singing about rivers. This is why they left their Québec farms and shipped out with La Compagnie: to run rivers like the Jacques Cartier. To ride a red canoe down the gullet of a blue gorge with your eyes filled with sunshine and spray, ears filled with thundering rapids and still pools of birdsong, lungs filled with fresh pine, fresh wind, fresh water. To feel the river lift you, toss you up and over each bright wave; to feel the paddle hard in your wet hand, the only thing keeping you (AAAUGH!) from that rock straining up through the beer-brown foam of the river.

"A gauche! A gauche! Pad-del toute straight! NOW!" yells Dénis fluently, and fluently we're through it and tingling into the runout, shaking water from our eyes and hollering "Yee-HAH!" in any language. Now that can make you understand the voyageurs.

LEFT: Looking upriver into the fault-block valley of Jacques Cartier Provincial Park, surrounded by the Laurentides Wildlife Reserve.
PHOTO: Lynn Noel
RIGHT: Alain Meunier and Teresa Garen examine the specially designed "passe migratoire" that allows returning salmon to bypass the warm, still waters above the Domtar hydroelectric dam at Donnacona, PQ, to reach higher oxygen and lower temperatures upriver on the Jacques Cartier. PHOTO: Lynn Noel

At Georgian Bay Islands National Park, Alain Meunier (right) and Teresa Garen (bottom right) help "rainmakers" experiment with a watershed demonstration from the WaterWatchers education kit, loaned by the Massachusetts Water Resources Council in co-operation with the Boston Museum of Science.

Wednesday, June 01, 1988

GOING UPRIVER: EE Essay by Alain Meunier

ESSAY: THE ROLE OF OUTSIDERS IN ENVIRONMENTAL EDUCATION

personal comments by Alain Meunier

GOING UPRIVER provided insights on the role of outside educators coming into communities for brief stays. What can the role of these outsiders be in the local context? This essay outlines some of our experiences with GOING UPRIVER.

Over the course of the summer, we identified several issues of local and regional interest: drought, heatwave, acid rain; decline in salmon population; sea lamprey and bird migrations; water diversions, water levels, shoreline erosion; water quality, ground water pollution, "beaver fever" (or schistosomiasis), and water treatment. We also identified several ongoing themes or areas of experimentation within our program: the relationship between local and regional environmental institutions; program content and program format; legitimizing the local view and insiders' work; high profile vs. low profile programs; promotion of the Canadian Heritage Rivers System within QLF/Atlantic Center's philosophy and guidelines; and the relationships between cultural and natural history. However, most of our learning focused on the philosophical issues of environmental education and awareness.

There are, of course, many different definitions of environmental education and awareness. I would like to highlight a nuance between these two themes. The word "education" usually evokes a teacher-student relationship: a person who has knowledge teaching someone who does not have it. In contrast, environmental awareness does not necessarily involve a knowledge transfer but rather focuses on something that we may know already but which is outside of our attention. The relationship is one of facilitator and participant. The dimension of "knowing" and "not knowing" refocuses on perceptions and sensitivity, with a greater involvement in the learning process. The choice of method along the education-awareness learning spectrum will depend on the participants involved as well as the content of the learning.

In the context of this summer, we have dealt with both ends of the spectrum. Let me share with you one brief situation. At the beginning of the summer, in New Brunswick, a Park employee working at the gate of a provincial campground came to chat with us about what we were doing around here. Since we were at the campground for a week, without fees to pay, we were certainly a curious bunch to him."Environmental education," we said. "We teach people about the environment." Well, that didn't go over easy. He started firing questions at us, such as "how many tributaries are there in the Saint John River?" to teach us a lesson. He had been living in the area for a long time, and felt that he didn't need to be taught by some young kids who knew practically nothing about the area. This very antagonistic relationship was not appropriate for learning about our environment. The teacher-student relationship was not appropriate for the park worker and certainly not for us either.

In some situations, if the learning contract is very clear (when people know what to expect of the program), adults can function positively in a teacher-student relationship. In her program, Lynn introduces many ideas and historical data, but songs and stories make the process lighter and the teaching relationship practically without tension. Songs like "Topophilia" focus more on awareness and sharing than on actual historical data. The
public generally reacts very well to this song for this reason. Our work with children also employed the teacher-student relationship with an awareness theme. Using games as a pedagogical method is fun for children, so they do not associate programs with school.
There are serious limitations in using an awareness-based approach to learning. As a group coming from the outside linking up with a local organization, GOING UPRIVER must offer a specific service for which locals (insiders) see a need. Awareness can be rather vague in its presentation and may well be harder to "sell." (see note)

"Outsiders" and "Insiders" dynamics are central to our work this summer. We are on a regional tour, and it is important to bring a message which is relevant to the local community we are visiting. At the same time we are not from the area and we do not have the local knowledge required to make presentations on local issues. Our very brief time in communities did not allow us to research local themes in depth. However, regional themes are more appropriate to the work we are doing, as such themes are managable for outsiders to research. Local groups may also need to know what is going on at a more regional level. Fostering this awareness, rather than "educating" on specific local issues, was the purpose of GOING UPRIVER.

(Editor's note: Awareness-focused programs also often beg the question of how to address specific environmental issues. Extensive research in environmental education has exploded the myth that increased aware-ness leads necessarily to changes in behaviour. Research does, however, support the role of awareness programs as a positive first step.)
Evaluation of education programs is a challenging task: "results" are long-term, qualitative, and intangible. GOING UPRIVER compounds this task with the need to evaluate three distinct nonformal education programs (CROSSCURRENTS, WATERWATCH, and the CHRS exhibit) within the context of an international tour. We developed a two-tier system for gathering response data from audiences and sites (external methods) and recording our own activities and responses (internal methods).