Is This A Real Egg?

Years back, I took my Second Grade class to Slide Ranch in Marin, a working educational, ecological farm. There, we visited the hen house and observed the hens sitting calmly on their nests. One clucked and strutted away, revealing a perfect, white egg. I directed Adina to pick it up and bring it to us. She did so tenderly, held it up and asked, "is this a real egg?" A Slide Ranch teacher took the egg, placed it in a Safeway egg carton and showed the class. "Oooohhhhh," they all said, "it is real."
Many of today's children do not know where their food comes from. They have spent too little time out in farms and gardens to make the connection between picking tomatoes and salsa, between chickens and eggs. They have spent too little time in woods and fields to deeply appreciate predators and prey, the web of life, tracks and scat — and tree forts.
When I teach a Zoo School class at the Oakland Zoo, I am amazed by the wealth of factual knowledge the students have about animals. Animal Planet has created generations of zoological geniuses. They can name an exotic animal species like an expert, but can't name the plants or animals in their own habitats. They seem to be void of hands on, three dimensional experiences in nature.
As I tour students around the zoo grounds, we observe magnificent creatures: tigers, elephants, monkeys, giraffe, but it is the backyard animals that get visiting youngsters most excited. While checking out a dream view of the male lion, lying in the sunshine, mane, paws and teeth exposed, a child will ignore the cat and scream, "Lizard!!!!" at the sight of a plain, brown, tiny lizard on a rock. The same holds true for the many birds, squirrels, hummingbirds and butterflies that cross our path on a zoo tour. Nothing is more exciting then seeing a gopher popping out of his hole. Nothing.
In the book Last Child in the Woods: Saving Our Children from Nature-Deficit Disorder, author Richard Louv believes that children have traded in real nature experiences for television, computers and organized sports. He blames paranoid parents, sensationalist media, dependence on technology and uncreative school programming. He believes that nature is needed in the lives of children to lower stress, increase connections to friends, inspire confidence, compassion and a sense of place in the world. (Click here for more about Nature Deficit Disorder on KQED's Forum.)
My first memories were of exploring the woods by my house with my dog, digging in the dirt or sitting in a tree pretending to be a squirrel. I am certain these experiences lead me to be an adult who cares about nature.
It does seem clear that children benefit from free-form, outdoor nature play, but not all Bay Area children have a safe wood in their backyard. Please share with us your ideas for places for children to connect with nature, besides the zoo, of course.
Now, stop reading and go out and play.
Amy Gotliffe is Conservation Manager at The Oakland Zoo.


2 Comments
Nice piece Amy.
Just last week I was preaching the same sermon, frustrated that my students all seem to share the perception that cool animals can only be found on TV. Fortunately, kids are plastic and much more receptive trying new things. I was supposed to be off tomorrow but just got a call that a co-worker is sick, so I have to go spend a day watching burrowing owls and jack rabbits…boo hoo.
This reminds me of the time my family and I went to the Wild Animal Park in San Diego. I asked my kids what their favorite animal there was and all three said the chipmunk by the side of the road. And when we went to Disneyworld, they were blown away by this little black snake on the sidewalk (sorry Mickey).