Programs show that being outside can be ‘more fun than most video games’ and TV

Seatle PI – March 15, 2007
By Fiona Cohen

The group, including four third graders, one kindergartener and one preschooler, followed Heerdt through West Seattle's Me-Kwa-Mooks Park on one of Seattle Parks and Recreation's "Parks in the Dark" tours. Kids and parents clutching flashlights follow him around parks in winter, learning about animals and plants.

"I expect them to get an appreciation of nature," Heerdt says. "I expect them to see that being outside is fun, more fun than most video games and anything on TV."

Getting children outside is an increasing preoccupation of parents and educators.

Kids spend more time indoors than their parents' generation did. A 2004 University of Michigan study found that in 2002-03, kids ages 6 to 17 spent an average of 50 minutes a week doing outdoor activities. Twenty-one years ago, kids spent most of their time indoors too, but they still managed 100 minutes a week of outdoor activity, twice the 21st-century kids' average.

The missed exercise probably speeds the rise of obesity and diabetes among young people.

Some argue that kids' indoor lifestyles affect their brains, too. In his book "Last Child in the Woods" (Algonquin, 335 pages, $13.95), journalist Richard Louv cites studies showing that exposure to nature improves academic performance and diminishes depression and attention-deficit disorder.

Frank Hein, program manager of the Woodland Park Zoo, says children need nature to be healthy.

The zoo aims to make that possible, even on gloomy days, with Zoomazium, the children's building that opened last spring. It offers kids a naturelike environment with rough rocks, mountains, a treehouse and a dimly lit cave.

Some kids find parts of the setup scary.

"The younger kids are always looking to the older kids to know what to do," says Gregg Burke, education programs supervisor at the zoo.

"The kids create their own adventure," Hein says.

He also hopes to inspire children to explore the real natural world -- the one outside, with the nasty weather.

One corner of the Zoomazium has a "nature exchange." Kids bring in items they found in the wild, or pictures and stories of wildlife sightings. They discuss their discoveries with the zoo's naturalists, who give them points that they can use to acquire something from the zoo's collection of treasures. An antler is worth 2,000 points; a fossil trilobite gets the kids 10,000.

Less than a year after it opened, the exchange has 6,000 active traders -- kids who explore woods and beaches looking for interesting items to bring back.

On just his second visit, Jake Rappaport, 6, brought in a spiky seedpod. Zoo corps coordinator Kathy France gave him 200 points, which he decided to bank for something big.

His mother, Jennifer Chase-Rappaport, says the nature exchange changed how her son looks at the outdoors.

"I think it's actually made him a little bit more focused on what's actually around him. Instead of being off on his own planet in his thoughts, it's kind of keeping him on this planet."

Before, his main scientific interests were extraterrestrial: rocket ships and aliens. Now he's observing the world around him, his mom says.

"The other day we walked out of the house to go to school, and we looked out on the fence, and there was a half-eaten apple on top of the fence. He immediately started to speculate how the apple could have gotten there. What sort of creature could have put the apple on top of the fence?" Chase-Rappaport says. "Before, it would have been 'Aliens put it there.' "

Hein hopes the kids who learn about nature at the zoo will learn to support conservation -- and grow up to become environmentally conscious adults.

"It almost never happens when you're 36 years old. It happens now," he said.

Hein sees signs of a movement in support of these ideas, in the wake of Louv's book. The Washington Legislature last spring approved a study to evaluate outdoor education.

Audubon Washington and Seattle Parks and Recreation are turning an 80-year-old house into the Seward Park Environmental and Audubon Center, the third center of its kind in Washington. (The others are in Sequim and University Place.) Like Zoomazium, the center aims to introduce kids to nature.

Gail Gatton, the center's executive director, would like to incorporate technology such as GPS and a digital-media player to appeal to gadget-loving kids.

"I'm completely into how do you use what they're comfortable with."

Children love facts and details, but many of the facts they know are about fantasy worlds.

For example, a 2002 Science article describes a study that found that a sample of British 8-year-olds could name Pokemon characters 80 percent of the time but native wildlife only half the time.

Over in Me-Kwa-Mooks Park, Heerdt did his best to reverse that trend. As the group moved around the 20-acre waterfront park, he gave the name (English and often Latin) of every creature, plant and piece of seaweed they encountered.

"Whoa, cool!" exclaimed Case, shining his flashlight over a barnacle-encrusted piece of sea wall.

Abbey Plankinton, 8, turned over rocks with her parents.

Heerdt told them a Suquamish legend about Octopus Woman. He pointed out how the tops of beach rocks are different from the bottoms, and showed the kids how to put the rocks back carefully.

Back on land, he showed them stuffed specimens of a pileated woodpecker and a Western screech owl. He dressed Case as a woodpecker, with four-toed feet, a stiff tail, brain padding to prevent headaches and an 8-foot-long ribbon of tongue.

Case wanted to know how the stuffed birds were made.

Heerdt explained that they were road-killed animals. He explained about how the taxidermist removed the insides, scooping out the brains with a special brain spoon.

"The Egyptians did that through the nose," said Case, sharing some facts about ancient mummies.

When Heerdt put the specimens back in his car, he said he'd be gone for 30 seconds.

The kids started chanting: "One ... two ... three ... four ... five ..."

"These third-graders are a literal lot," said Steven Sterne, Aaron's dad.

Heerdt pointed to a pile of dirt on the ground.

"What's that?" he asked.

"Poop," one of the kids said.

Wrong. Heerdt reached his hand inside the pile and showed a tunnel leading away. A mole made it, he explained.

He took a stuffed mole out of his pack and passed it to the kids. It was the size of a hamster, with velvety fur, a pointed nose and spoon-shaped hands.

Aaron Sterne, 5, refused to touch it.

"No I don't want to hold a mole. No, I don't. It's going to bite me," he said.

This exasperated his 8-year-old sister, Olivia.

"It's a dead mole. It won't bite you," she said.

The tour clambered up a steep trail into the woods. Heerdt pointed out where a house once stood, and he talked about the plants and landmarks along the way. They looked under the bark of a rotting log, and found a slug, and some slug eggs, wood lice and spiders. He also pointed out old driveways and a sewer line.

Heerdt built a campfire in a metal tub, and showed the kids how to make a treat by dipping a piece of bread in condensed milk and coconut, roasting it on the campfire then drizzling it with chocolate sauce. The result was "Angels on Horseback."

"I think because it falls off so easily in the fire," Heerdt says.

He thinks giving kids an interest in nature is simple: Just expose them to it.

"Kids always respond really well to the environment. They're fascinated by it. It doesn't take any effort at all as long as they're comfortable outside."

My son, Jed Cohen, a 5-year-old preschooler, was not comfortable by the end of the tour. He started the program excited. He twirled his flashlight and combed the beach for shells. But as the time got later, his voice started rising to a whine. His feet were too cold, the trail too steep and his flashlight too dim. He worried the campfire would burn him and he refused to try the roast marshmallows.

The other kids had no such problems, though it was past 9. They ate as much sugar as the adults allowed.

Bryce Villatoro-Thomas, 8, brandished a skewer with a pair of flaming marshmallows.

"I am the human torch!"

Heerdt says his groups usually go overtime.

"We always stay too long," he says. One time, the security company guarding Camp Long kicked his group out at about 10 p.m., an hour after the program was supposed to be over.

Aaron roasted marshmallows and ate them with chocolate sauce. He had enjoyed exploring the park in the night, he said.

Mostly.

"I loved it except when the guy was talking."

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