A Note From The Director

Where should we plant this tree?

Ideas on different ways to model environmental stewardship

Imagine you are part of a small group participating in an environmental restoration project. Your group is presented with a straightforward question: where should we plant this tree?

There are many ways to find an answer, but they can mostly be narrowed down to two approaches: #1. Find someone else to answer the question, ideally an expert who knows what they are talking about. #2. Figure out an answer yourself.

Neither approach is inherently better, but each leads to different experiences for the people tasked with planting the tree. An example of #1: Not long ago I participated in a tree planting project in the southern part of Albuquerque. I arrived wearing dirt-ready clothes and was pleased to find holes already dug, cottonwood poles ready to plant in those holes, and plentiful instructions and insights from professionals. I was there to do the labor, and it was great. We got a lot done, and made a meaningful impact on that environment. That day, I left feeling satisfied, connected to my fellow tree-planters, and eager to do it all again. I want to see our trekkers participating in more projects like that.

However, following the path laid out by experts is not the only way to do it. If our goal is to inspire environmental stewardship (which it is; it’s part of our mission), we can create deeper learning a more lasting impact and by putting trekkers in charge with guidance from the professionals. If our question is “where do we plant this tree?,” I have a deep trust that young people possess the capacity and creativity to answer that question well. This is not an anti-professional or anti-intellectual stance; it’s an educational stance. Experiential learning at its best is more than just engaging your body in the work. The Gold Standard of experiential learning, in my eyes, is one in which kids (and the rest of us) work alongside people with more experience or professional training, not underneath them.

In our context at the Gulch, that means asking trekkers to engage in research, observation, and conversation with each other, and with outside experts, to come up with answers. This method is not always the best, and it’s not always possible. It takes time and resources, and it is less efficient than showing up to a site with pre-dug holes — sometimes you just need to get the trees in the ground. But when done well with guidance from caring educators, this experiential approach holds much more potential for learning and satisfaction. It also creates a rich culture of learning and confidence, important ingredients in inspiring a lifetime of environmental stewardship.

I have been pondering these questions because our Basecamp property, gorgeous though it is, is in need of restoration. I have documented the reasons for this in past newsletters, and highlighted what we’ve done so far: forest thinning, prescribed fire, partnerships like those with Chizh for Cheii and the Forest Stewards Guild, invasive species removal, and more. But today I am taking a step back to ask a more fundamental question: how do we decide what to do in the first place? How do we determine where to plant that tree, and what kind of tree to plant, and whether we should be planting a tree there in the first place… it’s a long list of questions. And how do we begin answering them? What does this reflection and intentional methodology look like in action? This newsletter wll provide a glimpse into our ever-evolving asnwers. Thank you for your continued support and engagement with Cottonwood Gulch.

Jordan Stone, Executive Director