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The morning mist still clung to the grass when we began work that morning, 15 years ago. Four preschool teachers moving quietly through the predawn light, our breath visible in the crisp air as we arranged tiny treasures beneath the oak growing in the corner of our schoolyard. Cedar boughs we had just picked at a nearby creek formed a fragrant carpet. Heart-shaped gems caught the first light. Miniature plates held invisible offerings. Then, the final touch, a winding trail of glitter led from the school doors to this enchanted space we’d created.
\n\n\n\n“Aaaah, the fairies came, the fairies came! There are sparkles everywhere!” The children’s voices erupted in wonder as they burst outside for morning play. Their small feet danced along the glittering path, eyes wide with the magic of discovery. For them, there was no question, the fairies had visited. The evidence sparkled beneath their sneakers.
\n\n\n\nAs I watched their faces, alight with that particular glow children get when the world reveals its magic, I realized we weren’t just building a fairy garden; we were constructing a bridge between worlds. It’s a bridge that Indigenous cultures all over, including my nation, the syilx (pronounced SEE-ulh, where you pronounce the “h” sound after the “l,” and known colonially as the Okanagan), have always known how to cross.
\n\n\n\nIn my early-childhood-development training, we studied the neuroscience of young minds, and how neural pathways form at lightning speed, creating the foundation for all future learning, behaviour, and mental health. The textbooks called the times when this happens “critical developmental windows.” But my syilx Elders recognized it as a sacred time when children stand closest to kwulencuten (kwool-en-CHOOT-en), the energy of Creation itself.
\n\n\n\nElder Auntie Linda often reminds us, “Little ones haven’t forgotten how to listen to the land yet. Their ears still hear what ours have been trained to ignore.” Modern psychology might call this “magical thinking,” but in our teachings, it’s simply accurate perception. For example, where adults see an empty meadow, children see the swaying forms of unseen relatives.
\n\n\n\nThat fairy garden became more than a playful activity, it was an act of cultural preservation. By encouraging the children’s natural communion with the unseen, we were honouring sqilx’w (SKAY-ulh, meaning “Indigenous”) ways of knowing that have been systematically suppressed by colonial education systems. When 4-year-old Kiya insisted she saw tiny footprints near the berry offerings, we didn’t correct her. We asked, “What do you think the fairies wanted to tell us?”
\n\n\n\nHer answer was, “They’re happy we remembered them.” We responded with a nod of recognition.
\n\n\n\nThere is a particular magic in creating for children what we once longed for ourselves. Maybe it’s the way you hide handwritten notes in their lunchbox because no one did that for you. Maybe it’s the way you build blanket forts with them, just to feel the thrill of that secret hideaway you never had. This act is not just nostalgia, it is reconciliation. It is the grown-up version of you whispering to the child you once were, saying, “I see what you needed. I can give it now, even if it’s through someone else.”
\n\n\n\nThis is the heart of adult play, an often overlooked necessity—as critical to our well-being as sleep or nourishment. Play is not frivolous. It is how we process, how we remember who we are beneath the weight of bills and deadlines and responsibilities. It is how we return to our essential selves.
\n\n\n\nPsychologists say that this is one form of “re-parenting,” giving little ones the joy, security, and wonder we may have missed ourselves. But sqilx’w teachings take it further. Play is not only a form of therapy, it’s ceremony. When we kneel in the dirt arranging tiny plates for fairies, we’re not just playing, we’re remembering. We’re realigning ourselves with the truth that the world is alive, layered, and full of beings seen and unseen.
\n\n\n\nI saw this transformation in my coworker, who was a survivor of the Sixties Scoop—when about 20,000 Indigenous children in Canada were taken from their families and placed in non-Indigenous adoptive families—and had been severed from her Nehiyaw culture and community. As she carefully placed a miniature cedar-bark canoe near our fairy garden’s “stream” (a winding line of blue fabric), her hands began to shake.
\n\n\n\n“My kokum [grandmother] used to tell me stories on our visits about the Little People who lived in the rocks,” she whispered. “I hadn’t thought of that in 30 years.” The act of creating magic for children had become medicine for her own inner child.
\n\n\n\nThe act of imagining a better world is the first step in manifesting it.
This is why adult play is just as vital as child’s play. Whether through video games that let us safely navigate challenges, art that externalizes our inner landscapes, or hiking that realigns us with natural rhythms, play brings us back into right relationship with Creation. syilx Elders teach that the Spirit World isn’t “somewhere else.” It’s here, woven into the reality of the everyday, waiting for us to perceive it. When we allow ourselves to get lost in play, we’re not being childish, we are in fact practicing a type of sacred attention.
\n\n\n\nIn syilx epistemology, the land speaks. The rivers, the fir trees, the coyotes, the stones, they are all relations, and they communicate through dreams, visions, and the stories passed down through generations. Imagination, then, is not make-believe, it is the act of tuning into the time and place you are standing in, becoming one with the energy of place. When you learn to collapse time and place in this way, you become one with the tmixʷ (t-mee-UH, which translates roughly to the spiritual energy of all animate and inanimate beings), understanding you too are tmixʷ.
\n\n\n\nThe act of imagining a better world is the first step in manifesting it. We are opening the door to the Spirit Helpers, to the ancestors, to the versions of ourselves that coexist across time and space.
\n\n\n\nThe more I study quantum physics, the more I realize it’s describing the same reality as syilx captikʷł (oral storytelling laws, pronounced something like chap-TEEKH), just in different languages.
\n\n\n\nIn syilx science, the observer doesn’t stand apart from whatever they’re observing. Imagination isn’t separate from reality, it’s how reality shapes itself. This is why dismissing children’s visions of fairies or spirit animals isn’t scientifically sound—it’s a cultural bias that limits our perception of reality’s full spectrum. It speaks to the syilx knowledge that we are beings existing in a spiral of many worlds at once, so we are responsible for how we engage with them.
\n\n\n\nQuantum physics says that some particles exist in multiple states simultaneously until observed, suggesting that reality itself is participatory and responsive to consciousness. This mirrors syilx teachings that perception shapes our experience of the world and that unseen dimensions coexist with our own. Just as Indigenous knowledge systems have long understood that observation is a sacred act of relationship (where listening to the land changes both the listener and the land), quantum physics demonstrates that at the most fundamental level, the observer cannot be separated from what is observed.
\n\n\n\nQuantum physicists and syilx Knowledge Keepers agree: nothing is truly separate, and wonder is the most accurate response to existence.
When children see fairies or when we speak to Spirit Helpers, we’re not imagining fiction but engaging with layers of reality that non-Indigenous science is only beginning to map—a world where, as both quantum physicists and syilx Knowledge Keepers agree, nothing is truly separate, and wonder is the most accurate response to existence.
\n\n\n\nSo, when syilx storytellers recount the adventures of senklip (SIN-kleep, Coyote), they’re not just entertaining, they’re activating a living field of relationships. As children imagine Coyote’s antics, they’re not fantasizing, they’re practicing the ceremonial observation that maintains a balance between the many worlds. This explains why, in our preschool program, children who regularly engaged in imaginative play demonstrated not just enhanced creativity, but what we call “spiritual discernment”: the ability to sense energetic truths beneath surface appearances.
\n\n\n\nThe Eurocentric world often dismisses imagination as frivolous, something to outgrow. But cutting-edge science like quantum physics—with its teachings of multiple universes and observer-shaped reality—shows what Indigenous cultures have always known: there’s more to this world than meets the eye. When children see fairies, or when we feel the presence of Spirit in that warm summer wind, we’re not hallucinating. We’re perceiving.
\n\n\n\nThe most powerful spirit work isn’t only reserved for sweat lodges or longhouse ceremonies; it’s embodied in our everyday life. Building blanket forts becomes ceremonial world-building. Baking cookies transforms into offering-making. Even something as simple as hiding love notes in a child’s lunchbox is akin to the way we as syilx peoples leave offerings for the unseen. For instance, we have specific ceremonies to show our gratitude to the Sacred Beings that caretake our homelands alongside us as sqilx’w.
\n\n\n\nToday I think of Kiya, now 18 years old, who recently told me she still leaves tiny offerings under her backyard cedar “just in case.” And I carry my colleague’s transformation, the way rebuilding fairy gardens helped her rebuild a connection to the stories stolen from her.
\n\n\n\nThis is how culture survives, it’s in these small, sparkling moments where you experience a glimmer of remembrance. When we kneel to peer under toadstools with wide-eyed children. When we pause our busy adult lives to really listen to the wind through pine needles. When we choose, again and again, to believe in the spirit of wonderment that systems of oppression have tried to remove from us. And when you finally glimpse that flicker of movement at the corner of your eye, that shimmer you’d have dismissed yesterday, you’ll understand.
\n\n\n\nThis isn’t imagination. There is a whole world calling.
\n\n\n\nThis story was first published on The Green House, our membership platform. Join us there for early access, discounts and freebies, community discussions, and to support our work telling the large and small stories of how we can live sustainably.
\n","protected":false},"featured_media":2538,"template":"","meta":[],"categories":[50,20,8,10,6,43,40,7,22],"tags":[121,127,671,571,482,575,60,120,670,572,574,573],"class_list":["post-2546","articles","type-articles","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-indigenous","category-kids-parenting","category-living","category-magazine","category-planet","category-black-sheep-parent","category-science-tech","category-society","category-voices","tag-children","tag-education","tag-imagination","tag-kelsie-kilawna","tag-land-protectors","tag-okanagan","tag-opinion","tag-parenting","tag-physics","tag-storytelling","tag-syilx","tag-traditional-knowledge"],"yoast_head":"\nsmuqaken Marchand, 16, shows her niece, pl̓pal̓wícyaʔ Marchand, 7, syilx teachings of water motion, showing her how the bough moves in the water and what it does for the spirit.
\n"},"alt_text":"","media_type":"image","mime_type":"image/jpeg","media_details":{"width":1500,"height":1001,"file":"2026/01/Imagination-header.jpg","filesize":276675,"sizes":{"medium":{"file":"Imagination-header-300x200.jpg","width":300,"height":200,"filesize":18474,"mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/01/Imagination-header-300x200.jpg"},"large":{"file":"Imagination-header-1024x683.jpg","width":1024,"height":683,"filesize":121976,"mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/01/Imagination-header-1024x683.jpg"},"thumbnail":{"file":"Imagination-header-150x150.jpg","width":150,"height":150,"filesize":8799,"mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/01/Imagination-header-150x150.jpg"},"medium_large":{"file":"Imagination-header-768x513.jpg","width":768,"height":513,"filesize":78514,"mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/01/Imagination-header-768x513.jpg"},"full":{"file":"Imagination-header.jpg","width":1500,"height":1001,"mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/01/Imagination-header.jpg"}},"image_meta":{"aperture":"0","credit":"","camera":"","caption":"","created_timestamp":"0","copyright":"","focal_length":"0","iso":"0","shutter_speed":"0","title":"","orientation":"0","keywords":[]}},"source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2026/01/Imagination-header.jpg","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/media/2538","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/media"}],"about":[{"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/types/attachment"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/users/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/comments?post=2538"}]}}],"wp:term":[[{"id":50,"link":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/category/society/indigenous/","name":"Indigenous","slug":"indigenous","taxonomy":"category","yoast_head":"\nGrowing up, I watched my family—uncles, cousins, and kin alike—transform right before my eyes into Coyote, senklip (pronounced SIN-kleep), during the summer when our community would engage in land-based storytelling. They would carefully tie coyote fur to their bodies, slip into their moccasins and buckskin outfits, and paint their faces. In an instant, they became the trickster, teacher, and protector of our syilx/Okanagan homelands.
\n\n\n\n(The colonial name used for my people is “Okanagan.” When settlers first met syilx peoples, they asked who they were. The response was “sukanaqin”—pronounced soo-ka-NAW-kayn, meaning long-distance runners who carried messages from valley bottoms to mountaintops. The settlers anglicized the name to “Okanagan,” a term that later came to describe our homelands and the syilx, which is pronounced something like SEE-ulh, where you pronounce the “h” sound after the “l”. A note on language protocol: Teachers of nsyilxcen—syilx language, pronounced en-SEE-ilh-chin—use lower case when writing our words, and I follow this practice. It reflects syilx egalitarian values, emphasizing that no one thing is more important than another.)
\n\n\n\nCoyote is a central and important being in our syilx ways. When I was a child, my family and community would gather to reenact senklip stories on our land, which still happens today through our storytellers. These plays opened our big, curious eyes to the wonderment that is Coyote. Our people, of all ages, would tell these stories on the very soil where they happened, soil that recognizes our footsteps and voices as sqilx’w (SKAY-ulh), meaning those torn from the land, of the land: Indigenous.
\n\n\n\nThis syilx understanding—that when we were gifted life here, we were torn from the land to become a creation of it—is what makes sqilx’w people an extension of the land. It enables sqilx’w peoples to care for the land through its processes and protocols.
\n\n\n\nStorytelling is a powerful tool. During these times of storytelling, we commune with the spirit, working with the unseen forces, which some may understand as inanimate energy. Embodiment practices play a large role in knowledge transfers between generations. We believe that by physically engaging their bodies and flooding their minds with story, we help our children internalize our teachings.
\n\n\n\n“To learn, we must do,” is something our young people are told in their formative years, to help them understand that there is no learning that can be done purely by listening, but must be experienced, repeatedly. This hands-on approach ensures that our teachings are not only learned intellectually but also experienced and felt. They then live deeply in our core memories and seep into our bones. We become one with them.
\n\n\n\nIn syilx understandings, senklip represents our humanness and ego—the mind if it were detached from spirit and heart. We are taught that senklip is always around, in every room, always listening and waiting for direction. One of the first teachings we had came from our aunts, who would remind us, “Be careful what you say; your words are powerful, and senklip is always waiting to take your words as prayers.”
\n\n\n\nThis mindfulness led to deeper teachings later in life about the power we hold as individuals. We learned that as human beings we are shapers of energy, and, since our voices emit energetic frequencies, we are constantly speaking things into existence.
\n\n\n\nThere is no learning that can be done purely by listening.
When you are born sqilx’w, it is believed you are torn from the land itself, with your DNA matching the DNA of the land that called you to be here. As such, we are responsible for caring for the land as we do our own skin, co-creating with its energy in ceremony to ensure the well-being of all life in our homelands, including visitors, by praying for healthy watersheds, snow, and all that sustains the people and the land.
\n\n\n\nBy understanding and embracing this responsibility, we can better care for our world and each other, always mindful of the power of our words and actions.
\n\n\n\nTo first share these teachings with children, we use senklip stories. In our stories, senklip is often pompous, selfish, jealous, prideful, funny, egotistical, but also caring. He gets things done in ways that might seem “unethical.” We love him, though. In all our stories, the other Animal People and Creation always showed him love. They might get annoyed and crack jokes about him, but they’d always say, “Oh, that’s just Coyote,” and then bring him back to life after he did something he knew he shouldn’t. He had endless lives in our stories.
\n\n\n\nAs a storyteller, I honour the protocols of our stories by creating new ones that help others understand the teachings of our land in the same way, but without exploiting our oral stories that should be passed on in a very specific way, following protocol. Please feel free to share this little senklip story I wrote for you all with your family. Stories are where we first learn the power of our words.
\n\n\n\nLong ago, when there were only Animal People, senklip, Coyote, was doing what he did best: poking his nose where it didn’t belong. Perched on a ridge overlooking the valley, he had his ears perked, twitching like he was trying to pick up a radio signal.
\n\n\n\nThe People below were loud that day, flinging their words around like stones in a river. senklip smirked. “Huh,” he muttered to himself, tail wagging mischievously. “They’re out here talking like words are just noise. Looks like it’s time for your favourite and most best-looking teacher to step in.”
\n\n\n\nNow, being the trickster, senklip wasn’t about to just hand out the lesson like a nice, neatly folded blanket. No, no, no. He had flair. He had style. He transformed himself into an Elder, complete with a wool coat and aviator sunglasses that made him look wiser than he actually was (not hard to pull off when you’ve been around as long as he had).
\n\n\n\nHe strolled into the village, leaning on a walking stick he didn’t need but thought added to the vibe. The People, curious as ever, gathered around.
\n\n\n\n“Elder,” one of them said, bowing slightly. “What brings you here today?”
\n\n\n\n“Oh, just my feet,” senklip replied with a sly grin. “But while I’m here, let’s talk about your words. You’ve been throwing them around like rocks, but did you know they’re more like seeds? Some of them sprout flowers, some sprout thorns, and some…” He paused for dramatic effect. “Well, let’s just say they sprout trouble.”
\n\n\n\nThe People exchanged nervous glances. Trouble? That didn’t sound great. “What do you mean, Elder?” a young girl asked.
\n\n\n\nsenklip’s grin widened. “I mean, your words don’t just hang out here in the valley. They fly off into the Spirit World, into Creation, and, oh, you know, into my ears. I hear everything.” He twirled his stick for emphasis. “And let me tell you, I’ve been bored lately. So, what do you think I’m doing with all those careless words?”
\n\n\n\nThe People blinked at him. One brave soul ventured, “Uh… what?”
\n\n\n\n“Oh, I’m taking them and turning them into lessons!” senklip’s eyes gleamed with mischief. “You know, a little chaos here, a little wisdom there. Keeps things interesting.”
\n\n\n\nLet’s talk about your words. You’ve been throwing them around like rocks, but did you know they’re more like seeds?
The People were starting to squirm now, which senklip revelled in. “But don’t worry,” he said with a wink. “I’m feeling generous today. Let’s do a little demonstration.”
\n\n\n\nHe led them to a patch of soft dirt and handed them each a stick. “Go ahead, speak something into the earth.”
\n\n\n\nThe People hesitated, then started murmuring. Words of kindness, anger, hope, doubt. The dirt began to shift and sprout. Flowers bloomed, thorny bushes clawed their way up, fruit trees emerged, and tangled vines spread everywhere, making a mess of the place.
\n\n\n\nThe People gasped. “What does this mean?” one of them asked.
\n\n\n\n“It means,” senklip said, flicking his tail, “that your words have power. They don’t just sit there in nothingness—they grow into something. And trust me, I’ve seen some of you plant real doozies.” He wrinkled his nose for effect. “Like that time you called your neighbour down. That grew into a thorn bush so thick I’m still untangling it.”
\n\n\n\n“But Elder,” another said, “how do we know which words to use?”
\n\n\n\n“Oh, easy,” senklip replied with a shrug. “Be like Fly.”
\n\n\n\n“Fly?” The People looked at each other. “That buzzing little pest?”
\n\n\n\n“Yep, that’s the one,” senklip said, grinning. “You all know the story. Fly was small, sure, but when it mattered, he had the song that brought Brother Black Bear back to life. Proved that no voice is too small—although, personally, I like mine big and loud.” He howled for good measure, making a few of the kids giggle.
\n\n\n\n“Here’s the deal,” he said, leaning on his stick again. “Speak wisely. Speak kindly. And remember, I’m always listening. Don’t make me turn your careless words into a lesson you won’t forget.” He gave them a cheeky grin. “Or do. I could use the entertainment.”
\n\n\n\nWith that, senklip strutted off, tail high in the air, leaving the People to ponder their words and the mischievous teacher who never really left them alone.
\n\n\n\nAnd somewhere, high on a hill, senklip sat back down, ears twitching, waiting for the next careless word to come his way. Because after all, a coyote’s work is never done.
\n\n\n\nThis story reminds us of the power our words hold. Just as your words plant seeds in the earth, so too does the land speak back to you. The land carries your words, your thoughts, your actions—it holds them in its roots, in its waters, in the wind that blows across the hilltops. Every word, every action, leaves an imprint, just as you leave footprints in the soil. Be mindful of what you leave behind, for the land, like the spirit world, will always remember. It nourishes what you sow, so use your words as carefully as you step upon the earth, for it too will grow what you plant.
\n\n\n\nAgain as my Aunt would say, “Be careful what you say; your words are powerful, and senklip is always waiting to take your words as prayers.”
\n","protected":false},"featured_media":2333,"template":"","meta":[],"categories":[42,50,20,8,43,7,22,9],"tags":[121,127,571,482,575,60,120,572,574,573,358],"class_list":["post-2335","articles","type-articles","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-bc","category-indigenous","category-kids-parenting","category-living","category-black-sheep-parent","category-society","category-voices","category-west-coast","tag-children","tag-education","tag-kelsie-kilawna","tag-land-protectors","tag-okanagan","tag-opinion","tag-parenting","tag-storytelling","tag-syilx","tag-traditional-knowledge","tag-youth"],"yoast_head":"\n“It was snowing. [My elder] sent us up to the river to have a bath… His reasoning behind that was, in order for us to become a good man when we grow up, we had to go bathe in the river,” elder Everson Waters explains in a recording describing the coming-of-age rituals of the Xwémalhkwu (Homalco) people. “He said going to the river will help you make those good decisions in your life.”
\n\n\n\nWaters’ account is included in an episode of Remember—Recordings of Elders Explored, a podcast put out by 100.7 The Raven, the nation’s radio station. His story, along with others from the same batch of recordings, is now being reinterpreted as a graphic narrative titled Xwémalhkwu Hero Stories, set to be released on November 22.
\n\n\n\n
The Homalco First Nation recorded Waters and other elders in the 1990s and early 2000s. They discussed history, tradition, and daily life in their territory, which encompasses the Homathko Icefield and all of Bute Inlet (some 200 km northwest of Vancouver) on the BC mainland and the 100-odd km stretch of Vancouver Island coast between Sayward and Comox.
The recordings were a “treasure that they didn’t know what to do with,” says podcast host Tchadas Leo, a member of both Homalco First Nation and the Stillaguamish Tribe in Washington State. Education Without Borders (EwB)—a Vancouver-based charity that funds educational activities for marginalized communities in both South Africa and Canada—initially approached The Raven about supporting the station’s language and culture programming. The station manager pitched the idea of a series featuring the recordings. He recommended Leo to host based on his past broadcasting experience, and a podcast featuring 11 of the elders was launched to mark 2022’s National Day of Truth and Reconciliation.
\n\n\n\nIn conjunction with the podcast, the comic project aims to help preserve the Xwémalhkwu language—ayʔaǰuθɛm (Ayajuthem)—and, according to Leo, “help Indigenous youth reconnect to their culture even more.” Co-sponsored by EwB, the UBC Comic Studies Cluster (a research group that studies comic art and supports local comic artists), and other UBC departments, the book includes a glossary of translated ayʔaǰuθɛm terms paired with illustrations referencing where they were mentioned in each story. At first, 100 copies of the book will be given to the Nation. Distribution to the wider public is being figured out and will be announced at a later date.
\n\n\n\nThe recordings of elders were a treasure that Homalco First Nation didn’t know what to do with.
Leo selected three BC-based Indigenous artists to write and illustrate: Valen Onstine, who is Nehiyaw (Cree) and Dane-zaa; Gord Hill, who is Kwakwaka’wakw; and Alina Pete, who is Nehiyaw from Little Pine First Nation in Saskatchewan.
\n\n\n\nIn November 2023, a group including Leo, the artists, Homalco First Nation Chief Darren Blaney, the UBC Comics Studies Cluster’s Biz Nijdam, and EwB co-founders Cecil and Ruth Hershler took a trip up to Bute Inlet to kick off the project and build relationships with each other and Xwémalhkwu elders. The visitors toured historic village sites like Muushkin (Old Church House) and New Church House, went whale-watching, and visited Xwémalhkwu hunting camps.
\n\n\n\nArtist Alina Pete spoke with me over Zoom.
\n\n\n\n(This interview has been edited for length and clarity.)
\n\n\n\nBring me back to the beginning of the project. How did it start for you?
\n\n\n\nWe spoke to Tchadas online, and he filled us in on what he was wanting to do. He sent us a bunch of recordings beforehand, and I was assigned river bathing and coming-of-age ceremonies, specifically. I listened to that and compared it to some of my own reserve’s coming-of-age ceremonies, which are very different.
\n\n\n\nFrom the beginning, we knew that we were going to listen to the recordings and then have this amazing trip out to the traditional territories to meet with some of the elders. Part of working with First Nations communities is developing a relationship with the people that you work with. Biz was really big on trying to set up relationships that go forward and are reciprocal, so we’re each receiving something from this and it’s not just monetary.
\n\n\n\nOnce we got out there, we had a big meal with the elders, one of whom was Tchadas’ father! We got to hear some stories about Tchadas as a kid. We teased each other…it was really fun.
\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/11/Tchadas-photo-.jpg\")
One of the elders was saying that once colonization happened, the government was like, “You used to range in this territory seasonally. We can’t let you do that anymore, so we’re going to round you up and put you over here.”
\n\n\n\nThe elders at that time said “That’s a bad island to set us up on, because the winter storms there are really bad.” They lived there for a few years, and then Old Church House was destroyed in a winter storm.
\n\n\n\nThey were moved to New Church House, which is what’s marked on most maps as Church House. No one lives there today, but most of the buildings are still standing. We went out to Old Church House and New Church House, and the elders were telling us about the fishing areas. They pointed out oyster beds they used to maintain.
\n\n\n\nWhat were you curious to ask the elders about?
\n\n\n\nOne of the things that struck me was that, though the cultural differences are really big, talking with the elders felt like talking with my own elders. Often when you ask a specific question, they won’t answer it completely, or they’ll answer it in an oblique way. It’s because part of Native teaching is that people are supposed to figure things out for themselves.
\n\n\n\nI knew the responsibility that had been put in my lap to tell these stories correctly, even though I’m not from that community. I really wanted to represent them accurately and faithfully, while being aware of the fact that, especially for coming-of-age ceremonies, there’s ceremonial aspects that you don’t talk about outside the community.
\n\n\n\nSo it was like, what can I tell about these stories? We went back and forth on the script. It’s not censorship, but it is protecting intimate knowledge.
\n\n\n\nThe purification ceremonies in our culture would be like one or two ceremonies and the teachings that had led up to it, whereas here it was a year of bathing in the river at all seasons. It has multiple connotations. There’s the physical cleansing, but there’s also the toughening up. You need some physical and mental fortitude to force yourself to go into the waters. The young boy [in my section of the book] doesn’t want to go into the river.
\n\n\n\nHow would you describe your illustration style?
\n\n\n\nMy art style is very cartoony and really appeals to younger kids. I was aware that though [the book] was geared more toward teenagers, it was also relevant to younger kids [who] would be wondering about what would happen when they come of age. I leaned into the kid-friendliness of my art.
\n\n\n\nWe wanted a raven character who was the throughline, that was telling all the different stories about the community. I had a trickster raven appear in the story to talk to this boy, and [the raven] convinces the boy that he should probably just wet his head! I had a cheeky cartoon raven inject a little comedy into an otherwise fairly serious story about a boy coming to terms with what’s required of him to become a man.
\n\n\n\nValen has a gorgeous style—it’s more suited to a serious, almost documentary, style of comic. And Gord’s got this amazing style that blends traditional formline art with comic art. I think Tchadas did a really good job pairing us up with our subject matter to take advantage of the strengths of our art.
\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/11/Raven-cartoon-panel.jpg\")
What does it mean for you to be selected to work on this project?
\n\n\n\nThis was life-changing for me. I’ve been working as a freelance artist [for over ten years] and I’m used to jumping in on a project, learning what I need to get it out the door, making the comic, running it by editors, and then I walk away. And I don’t think about it again.
\n\n\n\nI knew going in that it was going to be more relational, because they were asking such an intimate thing of me. I approached it in a really different way. I smudged. I went into it with a really true mind of what I wanted to accomplish, knowing that getting to know them as people was going to be really important.
\n\n\n\nGift-giving is part of this relational way of working in comics, and I want to carry it forward.
Now, they’re organizing a follow-up as the book is going out. We’re going to do a launch party that all of us are going to travel to. We’re going to have gone on this amazing journey together.
\n\n\n\nI intend to take some of my originals, frame them up, and give them as gifts back to the elders as a full-circle for my story [of] working with them: “Hey, you entrusted me with your stories, and I hope I told them right. Here is how I want to thank you, by gifting you with the art I made to honour what you have given me.”
\n\n\n\nThat fits with the teachings from my people, but also from out here. The potlatches are famous as a way to show what the artisans of your community can contribute, but also that you have wealth and you’re willing to give it away to other people for their gain and benefit. That gift-giving is part of this relational way of working in comics, and I want to carry it forward into working with Native communities in the future.
\n\n\n\nWhat do you want young readers to take from reading the book?
\n\n\n\nI hope that young kids want to engage their elders and even just their parents. My story was only about a young boy, so girls can ask their female relatives and be like, “What was our coming-of-age [ceremony]?” I also hope that it inspires other kids to tell their stories through comics. They’re just so accessible—they’re so engaging. It’s one thing to pick up a historical book and have to dig through that. It’s another to read a comic.
\n","protected":false},"featured_media":2322,"template":"","meta":[],"categories":[13,42,50,20,8,7,9],"tags":[534,121,568,127,569,170,70,283,573,570,358],"class_list":["post-2321","articles","type-articles","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-art-design","category-bc","category-indigenous","category-kids-parenting","category-living","category-society","category-west-coast","tag-artists","tag-children","tag-comics","tag-education","tag-language","tag-nehiyaw","tag-podcasts","tag-sun-woo-baik","tag-traditional-knowledge","tag-xwemalhkwu","tag-youth"],"yoast_head":"\nOne of Alina Pete’s comic panels for the new book Xwémalhkwu Hero Stories
\n"},"alt_text":"","media_type":"image","mime_type":"image/jpeg","media_details":{"width":1500,"height":1000,"file":"2024/11/Homalco-header-image.jpg","filesize":444375,"sizes":{"medium":{"file":"Homalco-header-image-300x200.jpg","width":300,"height":200,"filesize":29548,"mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/11/Homalco-header-image-300x200.jpg"},"large":{"file":"Homalco-header-image-1024x683.jpg","width":1024,"height":683,"filesize":236512,"mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/11/Homalco-header-image-1024x683.jpg"},"thumbnail":{"file":"Homalco-header-image-150x150.jpg","width":150,"height":150,"filesize":12005,"mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/11/Homalco-header-image-150x150.jpg"},"medium_large":{"file":"Homalco-header-image-768x512.jpg","width":768,"height":512,"filesize":149251,"mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/11/Homalco-header-image-768x512.jpg"},"full":{"file":"Homalco-header-image.jpg","width":1500,"height":1000,"mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/11/Homalco-header-image.jpg"}},"image_meta":{"aperture":"0","credit":"","camera":"","caption":"","created_timestamp":"0","copyright":"","focal_length":"0","iso":"0","shutter_speed":"0","title":"","orientation":"0","keywords":[]}},"source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/11/Homalco-header-image.jpg","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/media/2322","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/media"}],"about":[{"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/types/attachment"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/users/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/comments?post=2322"}]}}],"wp:term":[[{"id":13,"link":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/category/society/art-design/","name":"Art & Design","slug":"art-design","taxonomy":"category","yoast_head":"\n“Remember the furnace guy is coming this morning,” my husband yelled from the other room.
\n\n\n\n“Maybe I should move the laundry so my underwear isn’t in his face?” I chuckled at the idea and then dutifully pulled my freshly dried clothes off the rack.
\n\n\n\nWhy is our washing not in the tumble dryer like a normal family with two kids and two dogs, you ask? Because we never replaced it when it broke four years ago.
\n\n\n\nGoing dryer-free was initially an experiment: Were we three dryer sheets to the wind to think we could actually go without something so seemingly essential? Could we even find floor space for a rack in our no-basement, 90-square-metre home? We live in Alberta, where rain, snow, or smoke prevent outdoor airing much of the year. But between dryers’ carbon footprint, the microplastic they spew into the air, plus the wear they put on clothes, it was worth it to find out.
\n\n\n\nAnd the experiment was a resounding success! Line-drying 100% of the time is not for everyone, but with some hacks, climate hope, and lateral thinking, it might be easier than you think.
\n\n\n\nWhen it comes to our laundry, North Americans are statistical outliers. As noted by a 2020 peer-reviewed article in PLOS ONE, over 80% of US and Canadian households have a tumble dryer, among the highest percentages in the world. To contrast countries with similar demographics, Australia sits at 55%, the UK at 58%, Norway 47%, and Germany 42%. Globally, these numbers are even lower: Libya, for instance, is just 18%. That said, the study’s authors note that many Asian countries that used to have few dryer-owning households are seeing sharp increases, which reflects a global trend.
\n\n\n\nI recently replied to a social media post in which the original poster discussed laundry systems in her tiny apartment. It sparked a long thread wherein people from around the world shared their perspectives on drying clothes.
\n\n\n\nMany folks talked about drying all their laundry on racks, radiators (mmm, warm), and lines. Others only dried socks, undies, and towels in a small machine or a combination washer-dryer, because many Europeans have much smaller homes and make do with what fits. Some told me about innovative alternatives such as a DriBuddy in South Africa—basically a solar-powered drying bag you hang clothes in—or a dehumidifier with dryer function in the UK. One respondent from Nigeria commented on how many people there just use the sun, and there were comments from Europeans about heat-pump dryers.
\n\n\n\nLike any reasonable person, I wonder why I stress about kilowatts of energy use while Taylor Swift takes her private jet from Tokyo to Las Vegas to smooch her boyfriend. But I decided long ago to spend less time being annoyed about how my carbon footprint compares to celebrities’ and billionaires’, and more time contemplating my climate shadow—a term coined by writer Emma Pattee as a way of considering our climate impacts beyond emission reductions, by including everything from the discussions we have to how we vote—because my children are standing in it.
\n\n\n\nThe cost of dryers goes beyond the obvious dollars and cents; in fact, according to Natural Resources Canada, they require more energy than any other household appliance, despite their infrequent use. Natural Resources also reports that in 2021—the most recent year for which data is available—the average household dryer released 1.1 metric tonnes of “carbon dioxide equivalent” into the atmosphere per year, the same amount as ranges. Fridges, the next highest emitters, produced an average of 0.8 metric tonnes.
\n\n\n\nDryers constitute anywhere from 5% to more than 12% of our household energy needs.
University of Alberta professor of textile sciences Rachel McQueen has made it her mission to help Canadians ditch their dryers.“Canadians per capita have among the highest GHG [greenhouse gas] emissions in the world,” she said in a 2023 interview with U of A’s student paper. She pointed out that home energy use is a big source of emissions in Alberta because “most of our electricity is sourced through fossil fuels.” As dryers can constitute anywhere from 5% to more than 12% of our household energy needs, it makes sense to start here.
\n\n\n\nMost Asparagus readers are likely aware that washing synthetic fabrics releases teeny plastic fibres into our waterways (up to 35% of ocean microplastic pollution is thought to come from our washing machines). But recent studies have also shown dryers emit microplastics right into the air we breathe! So unless your wardrobe consists only of handspun wool dyed with the herbs you grew in your organic garden, your laundry is likely contributing to that problem.
\n\n\n\nThere is a laundry list of valid reasons not to toss your tumble dryer, from mobility concerns and time constraints, to inhospitable local climates and sensory issues—air-dried towels are admittedly scratchier, more on that later. Division of labour within a household is also key; Eric and I are pretty 50/50 on chores, and I’m not sure I could do it without that. So I’m here for anything you can do, be it line-drying select items, dryer-sharing in an apartment building, or even just sharing this article.
\n\n\n\nOne impediment of particular note is that some communities have restrictions around air-drying laundry. The Town of Cochrane—the municipality closest to our rural-ish home, doesn’t have a bylaw against it—but depending on where you live you might not be able to throw your clothes on an outdoor line. Some homeowners associations have created policies against it, builders have created covenants against it, and condo boards have either forbidden it or created very specific restrictions on the type and placement of the drying apparatus.
\n\n\n\nThis all seems especially backwards considering that Newfoundland, for example, has created an entire tourism brand around laundry hanging in the sunshine! (Seriously, if you haven’t seen their ad called The Secret Language of Clotheslines, it’s worth 1:11 of your time on YouTube.)
\n\n\n\nOne reason we choose to live rurally is that no one cares about our dirty laundry—literal or otherwise. But we still had to put a lot of thought into how to air-dry inside when the air outside is too smoky or moist. We chose a laundry rack hanging from above on a pulley. We can raise our clothes about 1.5 m above our heads near our cedar-panelled ceiling (cedar being naturally moisture-resistant). Conveniently, the rack also hangs right next to a vent that assists in the drying process.
\n\n\n\nRecently, I’ve heard more concerns about increased moisture and mould resulting from indoor drying—this can have impacts on both health and home. We did consider this, but my impression is that it’s mostly an issue in wetter climates like the UK. Even there, committed line-dryers are finding solutions such as opening windows, turning a dehumidifier on (still way less resource-intensive than a dryer), using a heated drying rack, or walling off a dedicated drying room.
\n\n\n\nMy greatest fear was actually how hard it would be. And no doubt, it does take more time and mental capacity. Our kids were 2 and 4 when we started this, and both just out of diapers. Our husky seemed to moult all year. (And now we have two!) But it turned out that it wasn’t nearly as time-consuming as I thought; we just had to change the way we did laundry—slower, more individually, and a bit at a time.
\n\n\n\nWe each have our own dirty clothes hamper now, even Eric and I, which helps us stay accountable. Hanging slows down the pace of laundry, and that’s actually a good thing—sometimes I just grab a few items at a time throughout the day to put away, as the rack is right in the hallway. If we have anything that really needs to dry in a jiffy, we put it over the heat vent in our tiny bathroom and it’s usually good in a couple of hours.
\n\n\n\nLine-drying wasn’t nearly as time-consuming as I thought.
I love any system that lets me be lazy; this one means we wash fewer things, less often. Jeans only need to be laundered every five wears or so and wool hardly ever. We’re careful not to put things in the hamper just because we can’t be bothered to put them in the correct drawer. (Well, three of the four of us are—looking at you, Eric!)
\n\n\n\nAnd the only thing I miss? Fluffy towels. I really, really miss leaning into a dryer full of warm cotton and pulling out the fluffiest towels imaginable. So sometimes (shhhh, don’t tell the Adulting Police) I go over to my parents’ house with a bin of laundry and do it there, just so I can have this cozy multi-sensory experience. Even though we don’t actually own fluffy towels anymore, the warmth still gets me every time.
\n\n\n\nAlong with our dryer, we ditched our regular towels at the local humane society and replaced them with Turkish towels, which are thin, tightly woven cotton towels that were originally used in Turkish baths. They are meant to be air-dried and come in gorgeous colours. They’re pricier, but we reckon we save at least C$10 a month from not having a dryer, so it’s nothing compared to that. They never quite get fluffy, per se, but they also don’t get crusty like regular towels do on the line, and instead seem to get softer the more we wash them.
\n\n\n\nAre you sold on saying bye-bye dryer? I’m very excited for you. And Asparagus Editrix-in-Chief Jessie’s cat Barnaby would like you to know you can send him all those wool dryer balls you’ll no longer be using, because they make great cat toys.
\n","protected":false},"featured_media":2196,"template":"","meta":[],"categories":[21,20,8,10,43,22],"tags":[545,249,455,412,471,60,239],"class_list":["post-2195","articles","type-articles","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-home-garden","category-kids-parenting","category-living","category-magazine","category-black-sheep-parent","category-voices","tag-appliances","tag-brianna-sharpe","tag-energy-efficiency","tag-green-living","tag-laundry","tag-opinion","tag-textiles"],"yoast_head":"\nThe author raising her drying rack to the ceiling
\n"},"alt_text":"Brianna Sharpe, a fair-skinned woman with brown hair and glasses, pulls on a rope raising a ceiling-mounted drying rack in the hallway of her home.","media_type":"image","mime_type":"image/jpeg","media_details":{"width":1500,"height":1000,"file":"2024/05/Gus-Social-Media-Line-Drying.jpg","filesize":175933,"sizes":{"medium":{"file":"Gus-Social-Media-Line-Drying-300x200.jpg","width":300,"height":200,"filesize":14306,"mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/Gus-Social-Media-Line-Drying-300x200.jpg"},"large":{"file":"Gus-Social-Media-Line-Drying-1024x683.jpg","width":1024,"height":683,"filesize":92780,"mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/Gus-Social-Media-Line-Drying-1024x683.jpg"},"thumbnail":{"file":"Gus-Social-Media-Line-Drying-150x150.jpg","width":150,"height":150,"filesize":8087,"mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/Gus-Social-Media-Line-Drying-150x150.jpg"},"medium_large":{"file":"Gus-Social-Media-Line-Drying-768x512.jpg","width":768,"height":512,"filesize":58946,"mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/Gus-Social-Media-Line-Drying-768x512.jpg"},"full":{"file":"Gus-Social-Media-Line-Drying.jpg","width":1500,"height":1000,"mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/Gus-Social-Media-Line-Drying.jpg"}},"image_meta":{"aperture":"0","credit":"","camera":"","caption":"","created_timestamp":"0","copyright":"","focal_length":"0","iso":"0","shutter_speed":"0","title":"","orientation":"0","keywords":[]}},"source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2024/05/Gus-Social-Media-Line-Drying.jpg","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/media/2196","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/media"}],"about":[{"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/types/attachment"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/users/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/comments?post=2196"}],"wp:attached-to":[{"embeddable":true,"post_type":"articles","id":2195,"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/articles/2195"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https://api.w.org/{rel}","templated":true}]}}],"wp:term":[[{"id":21,"link":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/category/living/home-garden/","name":"Home & Garden","slug":"home-garden","taxonomy":"category","yoast_head":"\nThis spring, I watched as a mother held her daughter’s hand up the stairs into the community greenhouse in Cochrane, AB, the town where I live. Once inside the tiny house-shaped building, they both looked around, amazed by the beans and tomatoes vining up the walls.
\n\n\n\n“It reminds me of home,” the mother smiled warmly, referring to her country of origin, Bangladesh. Although the plants were different from what she had grown there, the feeling of lush growth felt comforting. She said she was having a hard time gardening in Alberta, with our strong winds, clay soil, and drastically swinging temperatures. We talked shop, shared ideas for what to grow, and then she held her daughter’s hand down the stairs again.
\n\n\n\nI spent my spring in this greenhouse working as the educator/coordinator for a local non-profit called Cultivate Cochrane, teaching kids and families just like this about worm poop tea (a natural fertilizer), “armpit pruning” tomatoes (to improve plant health and fruit ripening), and a solar-powered fan that sucks (read on to learn more!). After construction finished, I taught over 600 local youth about gardening and sustainability. They ranged in age from teens down to babies, although the littlest did less “learning,” and more experiencing. When I think about that mother and daughter, I’m grateful to be part of a space that connects our community members to themselves, to one another, and to the food that nourishes us all.
\n\n\n\nIf you’re not familiar, community greenhouses are like community gardens, but enclosed so gardeners can grow food in harsher climates. A notable early Canadian example is in Inuvik, NT, where the community garden society in the arctic town converted a 370 square-metre hockey arena into a greenhouse in the late 1990s. Cochrane’s is only about 12 square metres.
\n\n\n\nBut this community greenhouse isn’t just notable for being tiny. It’s called the Passive Solar Roller, a name that refers to both the way it’s heated, and the wheels on which it gets towed by a team of heroic volunteers from Big Hill Towing to schools (including my son Little Grey Lamb’s) and gathering places like the Boys and Girls Club. But don’t let the “passive” in its name mislead you; like many other community greenhouses, this mobile growing space actively contributes to building connection, sustainability, and resilience in Cochrane.
\n\n\n\nAlthough I was already an avid gardener, I didn’t know much about greenhouses before taking on this role. I quickly learned that one reason this greenhouse is special is that it looks like a tiny house for plants. This isn’t simply for the cute design, but to provide effective insulation. Most conventional greenhouses have a clear material on all sides. They let in tonnes of light, but need a heater to offset the heat lost from poor insulation. Some also use external energy for fans to get rid of extra heat. But in a passive solar setup, the building collects and retains solar energy without any intermediary devices to capture, store, vent, or convert it.
\n\n\n\nIn passive solar design, materials are intentionally chosen for how they impact the light, temperature, and humidity inside the greenhouse. R-values (a measure of insulation effectiveness), roof angles, and heat transfer qualities of wall materials were all meticulously researched by board members and local sustainable design company OnGrowing Works in the hopes of creating a three or four season growing space. Although the goal is to have fresh local veggies in an Alberta January, this greenhouse is an experiment, so its winter performance is still unknown. The Roller also features a single solar panel (which a purely passive system wouldn’t) to power a “climate battery”: a fan that sucks the hot air in the greenhouse down into the soil bed and forces it out as cooler air.
\n\n\n\nKids are having a powerful concrete experience that will kickstart learning. When they taste a bean, they begin to wonder what we’ll do with everything we grow.
There are so many cool things we can teach kids about greenhouse design. But “thermal mass” (a material’s ability to store heat) and “glazing systems” are just terms that go in one ear and out the other for most students until they cross the greenhouse threshold. The experience is what makes those concepts meaningful.
\n\n\n\nWhen I led teens on backcountry trips in my 20s, my colleagues and I talked a lot about the four-stage experiential learning cycle we’d witness. A fight between paddling partners who end up tipping the boat? That’s the first stage: “concrete experience.” Stewing about it for a while? “Reflection.” Concluding that teamwork might be necessary for paddling is what’s called “conceptualization.” Trying that out and managing to canoe in a straight line is “experimentation.” Over the course of three weeks, they’d learn 50 lessons a PowerPoint presentation could never begin to teach.
\n\n\n\nAlthough the short greenhouse programs mean I’m never able to see all the stages, I can tell kids are having a powerful concrete experience that will kickstart the other steps. When they taste a bean, they begin to wonder what we’ll do with everything we grow. We tell them about Cochrane’s community fridge, where residents can bring extra food for those who need it. We talk about food security, and people who need to choose between buying a meal’s worth of protein or two meals’ worth of veggies.
\n\n\n\nI talked a lot with students about how a seed grows into something we can eat. It’s tempting— and sometimes necessary, because short attention spans—to end the lesson there. But a garden is so much more than what we see on the surface. Even beyond the root system that’s obvious when we pick a carrot, the plant actually feeds into a vast, delicate, and largely invisible network of mycorrhizae. These symbiotic systems of roots and thread-like fungus (mycelium) are essential to soil health, plant life, and ecosystem integrity. As biologist Merlin Sheldrake says in his book Entangled Life, “mycelium is ecological connective tissue, the living seam by which much of the world is stitched into relation.”
\n\n\n\nWhen most kids first heard that there are more microorganisms in a single tablespoon of soil than there are people on Earth, they thought I was making it up. I always gave a giggle when watching their eyes widen at the realization soil is actually alive.
\n\n\n\nMy own kids quiet down and breathe more deeply inside the greenhouse, even if I’m making them do something “character building.”
It’s valuable, of course, to explain the finer aspects of growing and passive solar—kids love watching the pollination demonstration, touching building materials, learning about the importance of native plants, and exploring soil composition. But the first thing most of them comment on when they enter the building? Their senses.
\n\n\n\n“It smells like nature!” said one Grade 2 student, closing her eyes and smiling. My own kids quiet down and breathe more deeply inside the Roller, even if I’m making them do something “character building” like watering the plants. When we put our hands in the earth and support a living thing, we dig down to some very important truths about being human.
\n\n\n\nCreating these spaces for our young people is more important than ever. Natural disasters and extreme weather are already foisting a worrisome future at their feet. Even if they are not consciously aware, so many of the youth I’ve worked with feel it on some level—and are grateful for joy to supplant the worry.
\n\n\n\nWhen I work on community projects, I involve my kids as much as possible so they see the work it takes to make an idea into reality. One of Cultivate Cochrane’s goals is to build a massive community greenhouse where education, food security, and community-building can go hand in hand. But as a stepping stone, the board got a C$65,000 grant from the Canada Healthy Communities Initiative to build this way smaller greenhouse. The tiny Solar Roller allows my kids to take child-size bites of an idea that exists only as a sketch. Mini Ewe has favourite plants to visit, and Little Grey loves checking on his little box of worms.
\n\n\n\nKids are always thrilled to hear that we think this might be the only passive solar greenhouse on wheels in North America. (Please be in touch if we’re wrong!) And they’re intrigued to learn that it’s an experiment we’re figuring out as we go. Will we be able to grow spinach in February? Follow along to find out!
\n\n\n\nCultivate followed up our youth programs with visits to farmers markets and libraries over the summer. There’s a special kind of magic watching the kids I taught lead their parents into the greenhouse and tell them all the things they learned about helpful insects, native plants, and vermicomposting.
\n\n\n\nWe think this might be the only passive solar greenhouse on wheels in North America.
Even though their visits were often less than an hour, I heard from teachers that students would refer back to the experience through the rest of the semester. Some remembered shaking tomato flowers to “be the bee” and speed pollination along. Others recalled parts of a plant or a solar panel. My own son was able to articulate why the bean he planted earlier in the year wasn’t thriving based on what he saw in the greenhouse.
\n\n\n\nThese tiny threads of experience are more powerful than they might seem. The best thing we can do as parents and educators is create authentic learning experiences for our kids; ones where they can see real-world connections up close. These opportunities branch out like fungal pathways, spreading roots and rhizomes through individuals and communities. My favourite feedback came from a student in my son’s Grade 1 class, who, after leaving the greenhouse, told their teacher, “When it was done, we wanted more!”
\n\n\n\nWhen I started this job, I saw myself as a guide through some basic biology and science curriculum. But as I watched students and my own kids explore the magical world of the greenhouse, I got the sense that something deeper—maybe even mycelial—was happening. Their experiences were feeding a whole new way of looking at the world around them.
\n","protected":false},"featured_media":1771,"template":"","meta":[],"categories":[21,20,8,10,43,22],"tags":[249,121,127,236,432,60,120,453],"class_list":["post-1772","articles","type-articles","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-home-garden","category-kids-parenting","category-living","category-magazine","category-black-sheep-parent","category-voices","tag-brianna-sharpe","tag-children","tag-education","tag-gardening","tag-local-food","tag-opinion","tag-parenting","tag-solar-energy"],"yoast_head":"\nThe author (right) and a colleague outside the Passive Solar Roller
\n"},"alt_text":"Two women stand behind an information table in front of a greenhouse on a trailer with solar panels on the roof.","media_type":"image","mime_type":"image/jpeg","media_details":{"width":1500,"height":1125,"file":"2023/01/bsp-greenhouse-header.jpg","filesize":"303407","sizes":{"medium":{"file":"bsp-greenhouse-header-300x225.jpg","width":300,"height":225,"filesize":"17959","mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/01/bsp-greenhouse-header-300x225.jpg"},"large":{"file":"bsp-greenhouse-header-1024x768.jpg","width":1024,"height":768,"filesize":"159090","mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/01/bsp-greenhouse-header-1024x768.jpg"},"thumbnail":{"file":"bsp-greenhouse-header-150x150.jpg","width":150,"height":150,"filesize":"7280","mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/01/bsp-greenhouse-header-150x150.jpg"},"medium_large":{"file":"bsp-greenhouse-header-768x576.jpg","width":768,"height":576,"filesize":"93262","mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/01/bsp-greenhouse-header-768x576.jpg"},"full":{"file":"bsp-greenhouse-header.jpg","width":1500,"height":1125,"mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/01/bsp-greenhouse-header.jpg"}},"image_meta":{"aperture":"0","credit":"","camera":"","caption":"","created_timestamp":"0","copyright":"","focal_length":"0","iso":"0","shutter_speed":"0","title":"","orientation":"0"}},"source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2023/01/bsp-greenhouse-header.jpg","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/media/1771","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/media"}],"about":[{"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/types/attachment"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/users/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/comments?post=1771"}]}}],"wp:term":[[{"id":21,"link":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/category/living/home-garden/","name":"Home & Garden","slug":"home-garden","taxonomy":"category","yoast_head":"\nIn the spring of 1999, I was in Grade 6 at the tiny elementary school in Frelighsburg, QC, when the principal and local parents had an idea with the future in mind. On Friday afternoons during the fair-weather season, our entire class headed outside to plant trees on a big section of the hilly playground that was being converted back into a wild space.
\n\n\n\nIt gave our squirmy, over-energized, 11-year-old bodies something physical to do at a point in the week when we were already imagining Saturday morning cartoons and playing in our backyards. It wasn’t all energy release, though; the weekly activity also taught us about the trees we were planting in what is now the town’s arboretum, used as an outdoor classroom for the elementary school.
\n\n\n\nLearning outside is clearly not new, but the practice got a major boost in many countries around the world in response to Covid-19, given the safety from infection and freedom from masks that the outdoors can provide. Outside, both kids and teachers can breathe a little easier and see each other’s faces. These settings also engage students in a more hands-on way that has lasting positive effects—from increased concentration to more deeply anchored learning, and potentially improved mental health—even after they return inside.
\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/10/Why-Learning-Outside-Isnt-Going-Anywhere_WebBody2.jpg\")
In the province of Québec, outdoor education has gained enough traction for Dr. Jean-Philippe Ayotte-Beaudet to be appointed to a new research chair on the subject at the Université de Sherbrooke in April 2022. Ayotte-Beaudet started researching outdoor science education for his masters thesis in 2013. He now collaborates on many projects looking into the benefits of outdoor learning for kids of all ages.
\n\n\n\n“Teachers are trying to connect more school learning with real life context,” says Ayotte-Beaudet. “I think that students and kids have been on different kinds of screens more and more, especially intensively during the pandemic… We focused on being indoors and on screens, and I think [outdoor learning is] a way to try and balance things out.”
\n\n\n\nHe says there is some resistance to the format, though, stemming from aversion to the risk of a kid hurting themselves on a school’s watch. “In our society, we are always the target of zero risk,” he says. “But at the same time, I think we neglected the risks of not going outdoors—for physical developments, learning, and psychological benefits.”
\n\n\n\nEducators are rethinking how information is transmitted, by anchoring it in concrete experiences.
To shed light on those benefits, he’s currently involved with a study led by McGill University’s Dr. Marie-Claude Geoffroy, researching the psychological effects of outdoor school on a group of 2,000 Grade 6 students from lower income backgrounds, whose lives may have been especially disrupted by widening inequalities caused by the pandemic. This study will test the effectiveness of outdoor education as a strategy to improve mental health, the hope being that the results will encourage decision-makers to implement this type of curriculum based on empirical evidence.
\n\n\n\nThe fact that the country now has a research chair on outdoor education also lends the practice needed legitimacy, as Ayotte-Beaudet points out that many teachers get criticized for replacing classroom curriculum with “just going outdoors to play.” Though outdoor learning does intrinsically help kids be more active, what educators are actually doing is rethinking how information is transmitted, by anchoring it in concrete experiences. And that’s not just the case for the more obvious arts and science classes—the format is being applied to subjects like math and languages too.
\n\n\n\nAyotte-Beaudet speaks of students interacting with the world around them across subjects, like learning to add using the house numbers on a street instead of being taught static ways of counting while sitting at a desk. This method isn’t reserved for younger kids either, as teachers have taken high school students out to gather data about passing cars to learn about probability and statistics.
\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/10/Montreal-class.jpg\")
“If you have a specific task… you will be more able to talk about that to your family,” he points out. “And [kids] don’t realize it, but when you talk to someone else about something you learned, [you’re anchoring] more deeply your learning.”
\n\n\n\nIn 2022, Ayotte-Beaudet’s team published a report based on surveys of more than 1,000 Québec preschool, elementary, and high school teachers, of subjects including math, arts, and science. The study found that over 95% of the participating educators observed significant improvements in students after the implementation of outdoor learning, including attention, learning, motivation, and overall well-being. Not to mention that over 90% of these same educators reported improvements to their own well-being. These shifts are consistent with the attention restoration theory, which posits that mental fatigue and concentration can be improved by being in nature.
\n\n\n\nAyotte-Beaudet points out that this movement promoting outdoor education is sprouting up differently from other curriculum changes. It’s coming from the grassroots teachers themselves, rather than being imposed top-down by school boards and principals.
\n\n\n\nIn 2019, Arbre Évolution—a cooperative that focuses on reforesting and greening communities—worked with regional marketing and community development agency Visage Régionaux to create an organization called Le Semoir, which offers eco-education workshops for school classes. (Full disclosure, my cousin Simon Côté co-founded the co-op and works as its administrator.) Established throughout the province of Québec, Le Semoir is a logical extension of Arbre Évolution’s work, implementing a youth-centric educational focus deployed through theory classes, workshops, and outdoor learning for kids.
\n\n\n\nIn Le Semoir’s mostly rural home region of Bas-Saint-Laurent, they’ve grown the Verger de l’évolution (“evolution orchard”) where students start planting fruit trees and other crops, like tomatoes, peppers and ginger, in Grade 4, and reap the fruits of their labour three years later. On a typical day in the orchard, students take a seat in the outdoor classroom equipped with a chalkboard, where they might learn about a plant’s life cycle before planting seedlings, and eventually tracking the plant’s growth through drawings.
\n\n\n\nMental fatigue and concentration can be improved by being in nature.
Le Semoir’s activities aren’t restricted to rural areas, though. They work with schools in cities like Montréal, Québec City, and Sherbrooke, where students and their teachers participate in workshops like learning how to compost, foraging for edible urban plants, and exploring Indigenous approaches to medicine.
\n\n\n\nBy being present in communities of all kinds, the organization is helping students rethink what a natural space looks like beyond tranquil forests and idyllic fields. This perspective shift is an important step in helping shape a generation that will need to fight for these spaces, care for them, and hopefully make them greener by redesigning cities and towns to be more resilient through the climate crisis. As heat increases each summer, there’s an immediate need to make our urban spaces more verdant, and cooler as a result.
\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/10/Why-Learning-Outside-Isnt-Going-Anywhere_WebBody1.jpg\")
Thinking back to my own elementary school, I see the long-term benefits this sort of approach can have. In the arboretum my class helped plant, students now adopt a tree to learn about its leaves, and fruits or nuts. The planting exercise sowed the seed of my own interest in trees, teaching me how they should be planted in the spring or fall because cooler temperatures stimulate new root growth—knowledge I’ve since used when planting trees in my own backyard.
\n\n\n\nLe Semoir also believes in turning the benefits of outdoor learning into lifelong habits that protect the ecosystems we live in. To instill and inspire this passion, they don’t just drop into a school, give a workshop, and head on their way as an isolated event. Instead, their goal is to pass along knowledge to help everyone involved build long-term skills that can continue to be shared. Educators attend the workshops and activities alongside their students, so they have a learning experience of their own. Teachers can then become another link in the chain, weaving the content gleaned from workshops into writing or math exercises in the classroom, says Le Semoir coordinator Laurence Côté-Leduc.
\n\n\n\nTeachers can become another link in the chain, weaving content gleaned from workshops into exercises in the classroom.
Though Le Semoir took off in a major way province-wide during Covid—enrollment jumped from around 150 workshops in 2020 to about 350 in 2021—Côté-Leduc, sees its long-term value too: “Even post-pandemic, there’s always a need to get out from between the classroom’s four walls.” (Quotes from Côté-Leduc are translated from an interview conducted in French.)
\n\n\n\nHeading outside isn’t just beneficial for the kids either. Teachers have plenty to gain, as it changes the teaching relationship. Research chair Ayotte-Beaudet explains that teachers surveyed told researchers that in their classrooms they’re always telling students, “Don’t talk that loud and be more quiet.” He adds that the need to quiet students becomes less necessary outside, letting teachers focus on educating rather than discipline.
\n\n\n\nQuebec isn’t the only province where teaching is getting an outdoor twist. In May 2022, the British Columbia School Trustees Association (BCSTA) wrote a letter to the provincial government requesting it provide funding to BC’s 60 school boards to help make outdoor learning more permanent. Since the province passed regulations mandating that Indigenous learning be included in the curriculum in 2017, the practice of using the outside as a classroom has only increased.
\n\n\n\nThe BCSTA’s president, Carolyn Broady—who sits on the West Vancouver school board—sees these developing teaching approaches as setting the next generation on environmental career paths. She cites partnerships between schools and organizations like the federal Department of Fisheries and Oceans. In this setting, students receive instruction from scientists working on ocean protection, repairing local ecosystems, or the environmental impact of ocean pollution. Broady points out that students have gone on to enroll in related fields of post-secondary study after these learning experiences.
\n\n\n\nThese teaching approaches set the next generation on environmental career paths.
She attests to the change outdoor learning has made in the community of Bowen Island, whose school is governed by the West Van school board. Since 2012, elementary-age kids at Bowen Island Community School have been learning about things like stream-keeping and land stewardship. “Often, it’s the classroom teacher who is passionate about something like this,” highlights Broady, confirming Ayotte-Beaudet’s observations from across the country. “That starts [outdoor education] in a school district, and [it] grows and grows from there.”
\n\n\n\nBowen Island’s outdoor learning program reaches beyond nature and into technology, as kids between kindergarten and Grade 3 have learned to create QR (quick response) codes that have been placed on panels beside trees and plants on the school grounds. Visitors scan these codes and tap on the links they generate, which lead to videos of the students describing the plants and explaining facts like whether the species is native. “It’s tying that science bit in—the technology built into the natural, place-based stuff,” says Broady. Once the QR codes were set up, students led their parents through the plant circuit they’d created to pass on the knowledge they’d organized.
\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/10/Why-Learning-Outside-Isnt-Going-Anywhere_WebBody3.jpg\")
Broady also explains that the effects of kids being more aware of their surrounding environments extends beyond the confines of curriculum. After kids in her school district participated in a West Vancouver community garbage cleanup, the school board received supportive feedback letters from retirees and seniors.
\n\n\n\nThis anecdote reminds me of how simple actions can have impacts beyond their immediate goals. The trees my class planted 23 years ago are now a flourishing green space for locals and visitors to enjoy a shady, leafy spot. And the kids now learning outside will take the perspectives and skills they gain into their adult lives.
\n\n\n\nLe Semoir’s Côté-Leduc points out that today’s kids are not only the people who will experience the environmental consequences of previous generations’ actions. They’re also “the decision-makers of the future.” With the growth in outdoor learning, we can hope some of these future society-shapers will make choices informed by deep connections to place and nature.
\n","protected":false},"featured_media":1456,"template":"","meta":[],"categories":[20,8,10,51,9],"tags":[79,359,121,458,58,127,105,141,234],"class_list":["post-1449","articles","type-articles","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-kids-parenting","category-living","category-magazine","category-vancouver-area","category-west-coast","tag-bc","tag-caitlin-stall-paquet","tag-children","tag-co-ops","tag-covid-19","tag-education","tag-mental-health","tag-nature","tag-quebec"],"yoast_head":"\nThese students will visit the Le Semoir orchard over a three-year period.
\n"},"alt_text":"Four children sit in the grass of the Le Semoir orchard.","media_type":"image","mime_type":"image/jpeg","media_details":{"width":1500,"height":1000,"file":"2022/10/Why-Learning-Outside-Isnt-Going-Anywhere_WebHeader.jpg","filesize":"280302","sizes":{"medium":{"file":"Why-Learning-Outside-Isnt-Going-Anywhere_WebHeader-300x200.jpg","width":300,"height":200,"filesize":"18946","mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/10/Why-Learning-Outside-Isnt-Going-Anywhere_WebHeader-300x200.jpg"},"large":{"file":"Why-Learning-Outside-Isnt-Going-Anywhere_WebHeader-1024x683.jpg","width":1024,"height":683,"filesize":"147382","mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/10/Why-Learning-Outside-Isnt-Going-Anywhere_WebHeader-1024x683.jpg"},"thumbnail":{"file":"Why-Learning-Outside-Isnt-Going-Anywhere_WebHeader-150x150.jpg","width":150,"height":150,"filesize":"7396","mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/10/Why-Learning-Outside-Isnt-Going-Anywhere_WebHeader-150x150.jpg"},"medium_large":{"file":"Why-Learning-Outside-Isnt-Going-Anywhere_WebHeader-768x512.jpg","width":768,"height":512,"filesize":"91301","mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/10/Why-Learning-Outside-Isnt-Going-Anywhere_WebHeader-768x512.jpg"},"full":{"file":"Why-Learning-Outside-Isnt-Going-Anywhere_WebHeader.jpg","width":1500,"height":1000,"mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/10/Why-Learning-Outside-Isnt-Going-Anywhere_WebHeader.jpg"}},"image_meta":{"aperture":"0","credit":"","camera":"","caption":"","created_timestamp":"0","copyright":"","focal_length":"0","iso":"0","shutter_speed":"0","title":"","orientation":"0"}},"source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/10/Why-Learning-Outside-Isnt-Going-Anywhere_WebHeader.jpg","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/media/1456","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/media"}],"about":[{"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/types/attachment"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/users/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/comments?post=1456"}]}}],"wp:term":[[{"id":20,"link":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/category/living/kids-parenting/","name":"Kids & Parenting","slug":"kids-parenting","taxonomy":"category","yoast_head":"\nAlmost everything changes by inches, so slowly that you don’t realize it’s happening. When children are little, we cannot quite fathom that they won’t always be small enough for us to protect. The Earth, too, shifts in slow arcs of evolution, its shape worn down by wind and water, its cycles and seasons unchanged for millennia. We imagine there is always more time to prepare for change and alter course — until suddenly there isn’t.
\n\n\n\nLast summer, BC experienced a record-breaking and fatal heat wave; in the months that followed, additional extreme weather events rocked the province. The message of the last year is clear: the window to prepare or alter course has passed. But there seems no greater urgency today — among the public or in government — than there was last year.
\n\n\n\nAs the world we leave our children changes no longer by inches but by great awful leaps, we will be forced to take stock of this horrifying inheritance we’ve left behind. By our inaction, by our indifference to urgent warnings, by our belief that change comes slowly and that there is always more time to intervene, even when it is clear: there is no more time at all.
\n\n\n\nMy little brother spots the frog first and calls us over to look, pointing in excitement. A frog? A frog! We all come running. Frogs, we are convinced, would make the best pets — that is, if we can ever catch one. No matter how slow, how careful, how quiet we are, they always manage to hop away, our hands closing on empty air in the spot where they’d just been, grass rustling in their wake.
\n\n\n\nBut this frog is different. He is stuck inside the window well, a semi-circle of corrugated tin about two feet deep carving out space around the basement window. It’s too deep for him to escape on his own. We kneel alongside my brother, the mid-summer Ontario sun hot on our little heads. His chubby toddler finger points. “Look,” he whispers. “Catch?”
\n\n\n\nThe heat is oppressive. It is impossible to take a full breath, impossible to move at a normal pace.
As the oldest kid, this is my job. I reach wide, careful to avoid the tin — the metal gets so hot in the summer sun that it will burn my skin if I brush against it. I close my fingers in slow-motion around the frog’s body, waiting for him to wriggle and jump.
\n\n\n\nBut he is dry and weightless in my hand, an empty shell, hollow and unmoving. Dead. I drop his little body and it flutters across the rocks like an autumn leaf. I jerk back in surprise; the hot tin of the window well burns the underside of my arm, and I jerk again from the pain, falling backwards onto the grass.
\n\n\n\nThe weather app on my phone tells me it’s 39°C, but the large outdoor thermostat hanging next to my door shows 41°, and it’s not quite 11 am. If I stay out here too long (that is, more than three minutes) I start to feel drunk — dizzy, lightheaded, nauseous. Everything feels bleached out and paper-thin: the grass under my toes, the leaves on the trees, the dirt in the garden. The heat is oppressive, a physical weight on my body. It is impossible to take a full breath, impossible to move at a normal pace. Every task feels impossible: cooking, chores, sleeping, thinking. I press my hand to my children’s foreheads a hundred times a day to make sure they’re still hydrated enough to sweat.
\n\n\n\nThis is the tail-end of June 2021, and we are midway through a six-day heat wave that is going to get much, much worse before it gets better. It’s not really a heat wave at all, which would be uncommon, but not unheard of, here in Surrey, BC, on the west coast of Canada.
\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/09/The-Pain-of-Parenting-Through-the-Climate-Crisis_WebBody.jpeg\")
No, this is a heat dome, a weather term most of us have never heard before this week. Heat builds up under a high-pressure “lid” and can’t escape, even at night when temperatures should drop. Each day is disastrously warmer than the last.
\n\n\n\nBefore it eases, a total of 619 people will die throughout the province; a BC Coroners Service report issued nearly a year later will identify that most are elderly, living alone, and often in poverty, without means to cool off. Ambulance and emergency services will be so overwhelmed that people will wait hours for help after calling 911, adding to the deaths. Crops will shrivel up. A whole town will burn down, dried out like tinder after days on end under some of the hottest temperatures on record in the country.
\n\n\n\nI try not to think about how bad it is, what it means, as I put the kids to bed with fans running and bottles of water nearby. But after years of “canary in the coal mine” warnings on climate change, I know that this is now a legion of canaries: a screeching, terrifying, deadly symphony, and they’re all on my doorstep.
\n\n\n\nThey say this is a once-in-a-millennium occurrence. But it takes less than half a year for us to be rocked by more extreme weather. In November, BC is swamped by torrential rainfall caused by an “atmospheric river” — a weather phenomenon in which a massive corridor of warm moisture-heavy air is carried inland from the Pacific Ocean — leading to flash floods that wipe out bridges, highways, homes, towns. Countless livestock drown on flooded farms. Several people lose their lives, their cars swallowed up in washouts and mudslides.
\n\n\n\nA month later, we’re hit again: a polar vortex brings frigid air from the North Pole, driving overnight temperatures to -15°C near the coast, worse inland, and doubly frigid with the wind chill. I’ve experienced colder weather in my childhood in Ontario and Alberta, and during winter visits to the Maritimes to see my sister. But this is different. With its typically temperate climate, our region’s systems aren’t designed for this — we have limited city equipment to deal with ice or snow, not enough hydro crews to manage frozen wires. Many people don’t even own snow boots let alone snow tires, and I don’t know a single person with a block heater on their car.
\n\n\n\nI press my hand to my children’s foreheads a hundred times a day to make sure they’re still hydrated enough to sweat.
Our houses aren’t built for these extremes either. Certainly, my 80-year-old house isn’t. In a normal year it’s only a problem on a handful of days. But after living through a 60-degree change in temperature over a span of six months, from 40-plus in summer to -15 in winter, the notion of a “normal year” seems quaint at best, and foolhardy at worst.
\n\n\n\nDuring the heat dome, we ran a pair of aging window air conditioners all day and night for weeks (a luxury many people didn’t have at all) and the interior of the house still ran into the low 30s. During the vortex, our furnace was hard pressed to keep up at times, and we pulled out rarely used electric blankets. In both instances, we were ready to decamp to the homes of my siblings if necessary, where newer construction and ventilation systems kept things not just tolerable but borderline normal. Most things in life are manageable with the right tools and enough money to purchase them — even, it seems, a climate crisis.
\n\n\n\nShortly after the new year, my husband and I start talking about ways we can change the house, within our means, to make it better. Not “granite countertops and fancy appliances” better, but “ready to withstand whatever weather may be coming our way in the future” better. In the middle of a discussion about potential cooling systems, I break down, crying so hard I can barely catch my breath.
\n\n\n\n“What were we thinking?” I ask between sobs. “What were we thinking?”
\n\n\n\nMy pragmatic partner assumes I am talking about the house, this ancient imperfect too-small home that has kept us safely and gratefully housed in a region known for its ongoing housing crisis.
\n\n\n\n“It’s fine. It’s great. We can figure this out,” he says. “I’m adding a new fan in the attic, OK?”
\n\n\n\nHe knows the fact he can fix and build and wire without help from contractors will ease my stress about what we can or can’t afford. But I shake my head, stare at my hands in my lap. It’s not the money, or the house, or anything we can repair or renovate.
\n\n\n\n“I mean the kids. To bring them into… all this. What were we thinking?”
\n\n\n\nI’m in part responsible for a world no longer stable enough for my children to inherit in safety. We all are.
I’m not the first to wonder about the wisdom of having had children in a world that caught fire faster than we expected — or sooner than we wanted to believe, at any rate. I’ve written about it before. I’ve laid awake nights pondering it. The question was always pressing and ever-present but still, in most ways, vague: Climate change was out there somewhere. Climate change did not feel like it was in southwestern BC, where the transition from one season to another is a mild shift of rainfall averages.
\n\n\n\nBut when I kissed my children’s sweaty sleeping foreheads in the middle of the heat dome, the question was on my lips. And when I broke down over a conversation about cooling pumps, about the privilege to even have such a conversation, it was impossible to ignore. It’s a question without an answer, really. I have to wrestle with the grief that I am in part responsible for the world that is no longer stable enough for them to inherit in safety. We all are.
\n\n\n\nThere’s a series of trails through a ravine near my house, which permits me the illusion of being in some far-flung forest, miles from the city. In February, during a walk on a misty-grey day, I hear the distinctive croak of a frog. It takes me by surprise and I pause, standing still to listen for it again. It’s somewhere to my left, in a jumble of fallen logs, decomposed leaves, and pockets of rainwater.
\n\n\n\nHe croaks again, and then again. Is this the right time of year for a frog to be awake? Isn’t it too early, not warm enough? I have a sudden urge to find him, catch him up in my hands and carry him home. Frogs would make the very best pets, after all — if you could catch one. I am hit with the visceral ghost-memory of a dried-out husk of a frog in my hand.
\n\n\n\nHow he must have suffered, trapped there for days without water in the hot summer sun. If only we’d found him sooner, I think, the echo of childish grief. Surely we’d have saved him, if we’d known what was coming, rescued him if we’d just realized in time. Maybe. I hope so. But it seems it is easy to believe there’s still time to play, even when it is clear: there is no more time at all.
\n","protected":false},"featured_media":1073,"template":"","meta":[],"categories":[11,20,8,10,26,6,22],"tags":[121,292,71,145,526,60,120,666],"class_list":["post-762","articles","type-articles","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-climate-change","category-kids-parenting","category-living","category-magazine","category-natural-history","category-planet","category-voices","tag-children","tag-christina-myers","tag-climate-crisis","tag-family","tag-grief","tag-opinion","tag-parenting","tag-weather"],"yoast_head":"\nWe imagine there is always more time — until there isn’t.
\n"},"alt_text":"A person wearing brown shoes stands at a red heart with yellow lines radiating from it drawn on a concrete sidewalk.","media_type":"image","mime_type":"image/jpeg","media_details":{"width":1500,"height":1000,"file":"2022/09/The-Pain-of-Parenting-Through-the-Climate-Crisis_WebHeader.jpg","filesize":"254277","sizes":{"medium":{"file":"The-Pain-of-Parenting-Through-the-Climate-Crisis_WebHeader-300x200.jpg","width":300,"height":200,"filesize":"20317","mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/09/The-Pain-of-Parenting-Through-the-Climate-Crisis_WebHeader-300x200.jpg"},"large":{"file":"The-Pain-of-Parenting-Through-the-Climate-Crisis_WebHeader-1024x683.jpg","width":1024,"height":683,"filesize":"250082","mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/09/The-Pain-of-Parenting-Through-the-Climate-Crisis_WebHeader-1024x683.jpg"},"thumbnail":{"file":"The-Pain-of-Parenting-Through-the-Climate-Crisis_WebHeader-150x150.jpg","width":150,"height":150,"filesize":"8195","mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/09/The-Pain-of-Parenting-Through-the-Climate-Crisis_WebHeader-150x150.jpg"},"medium_large":{"file":"The-Pain-of-Parenting-Through-the-Climate-Crisis_WebHeader-768x512.jpg","width":768,"height":512,"filesize":"143241","mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/09/The-Pain-of-Parenting-Through-the-Climate-Crisis_WebHeader-768x512.jpg"},"full":{"file":"The-Pain-of-Parenting-Through-the-Climate-Crisis_WebHeader.jpg","width":1500,"height":1000,"mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/09/The-Pain-of-Parenting-Through-the-Climate-Crisis_WebHeader.jpg"}},"image_meta":{"aperture":"0","credit":"","camera":"","caption":"","created_timestamp":"0","copyright":"","focal_length":"0","iso":"0","shutter_speed":"0","title":"","orientation":"0"}},"source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/09/The-Pain-of-Parenting-Through-the-Climate-Crisis_WebHeader.jpg","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/media/1073","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/media"}],"about":[{"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/types/attachment"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/users/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/comments?post=1073"}]}}],"wp:term":[[{"id":11,"link":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/category/planet/climate-change/","name":"Climate Change","slug":"climate-change","taxonomy":"category","yoast_head":"\nWhen 3-year-old Jude Leyton of Kingston, ON, was found in the woods last spring after three days lost and alone, the constables on his case were shocked he was alright — and credited his wool sweater for keeping him warm. When Leyton’s parents put that sweater on, they likely had no idea it would save his life.
\n\n\n\nWool is a radical textile hidden in plain sight.
I’m not saying we should dress our children in sweaters every day lest the unthinkable happen. But this story reminds us that wool is a radical textile hidden in plain sight. Particularly as we search for alternatives to oil-based-polymer clothing made in exploitative factories — wool just might be the soil-to-soil solution for so many of our woes.
\n\n\n\nWool is truly a wonder-fibre. Wool’s air pockets can help us regulate our body temperature. Its elasticity makes it ideal for long-lasting, well-fitting clothing. Wool can absorb up to one-third of its weight in water without feeling damp. It is naturally fire retardant (as you may remember from my article about mattresses). Because wool doesn’t wrinkle, nor does it like being washed and dried, tired parents do even less laundry. I have literally never washed most of my kids’ sweaters.
\n\n\n\nThe Vikings’ sails and overclothes were likely made of wool; it’s difficult to say for sure, as these organic materials have long since biodegraded, a testimony to wool’s eco-footprint. The mythical Amazon warrior women are depicted as wearing felted wool garments in battle. Women resisting German occupation in both WWI and WWII stitched coded messages in their knitting patterns.
\n\n\n\nI have literally never washed most of my kids’ sweaters.
Parents scouring Facebook Marketplace for vintage cable knits are a far cry from these epic histories. Particularly because wool-coveting is often accompanied by worry about the cost. A responsibly sourced Merino base layer set from Canadian company Wee Woolies costs about US$70 — that’s almost half of our weekly grocery bill. A pair of Smart Wool socks is about US$13, or three dinners’ worth of proteins. Even though I know wool’s qualities make it invaluable, that’s still a lot.
\n\n\n\nBut I feel like wearing ethically sourced wool is a teeny, tiny act of rebellion against the fast-fashion petrostate. So I scour buy-and-sell groups; if I’m lucky I can find a base layer set for US$20 and a set of four pairs of pre-loved socks for US$12. But thrifting takes mental bandwidth and time, and still isn’t free. All hail hand-me-downs and friends who know the value of circulating our sacred wool items.
\n\n\n\nPeople who know me are likely chuckling by this point (in a mockingly exasperated way, if they’re my husband). At the end of last year, I started needle felting, which is the art of stabbing a very poky needle into loose wool until it becomes a solid sculpture. I just love the way that wool’s tiny fibres weave together with friction and force to create something magical. Since then I’ve become deeply enamoured with all things sheep and sheep adjacent. I knew I was in a special place when I started watching Outlander to ogle the wool, not the humans wearing it.
\n\n\n\nFor thousands of years, humans made nature into clothing — silk, wool, cotton, flax — knowing each step like the backs of our very tired hands. Of course, the need for textiles would also cause enslavement, wars, and colonization. But over the last century, humans have discovered increasingly toxic ways to make textiles faster and cheaper: from chemicals (a recent study found toddler clothing from online retailer Shein contained 20 times the safe limit of lead), to pesticides (in the early 1970s, 80% of US-produced DDT was used on cotton crops), to oil-based textiles (about 60% of material made into clothing worldwide is plastic, according to the United Nations Environment Program).
\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/09/WoolBody1.jpeg\")
Author and farmer Rebecca Burgess is the executive director of the American non-profit organization Fibershed. In her 2021 book of the same name, Burgess warns that “we have been blindly wearing carcinogens, neurotoxins, and endocrine disruptors on the biggest organ of our body — how crazy is that?” Burgess believes that, like we did with tobacco and DDT, we’ll realize too late what we’ve done to our bodies and our ecosystems.
\n\n\n\nBurgess is passionate about “fibresheds”: regional textile networks of local farmers, spinners, weavers, designers, dyers, and creators. These fibresheds are focused “on the source of the raw material, the transparency with which it is converted into clothing, and the connectivity of all the parts.” Soil to skin, back to soil again. Of course, Indigenous peoples around the world and through time have been deeply connected with their fibresheds, but without this name attached. Nonetheless, I like how the word “fibreshed” links into our notions of watershed and foodshed.
\n\n\n\nWhen considering expanding my family’s wool wardrobe, I was briefly lured by flashy companies. I considered Wool&’s dress challenge, in which customers get a US$100 gift certificate for wearing a Wool& merino dress every day for 100 days and document each outfit. I’m proud to say I paused before hitting “buy now” on any of their dresses, which cost between US$128–188.
\n\n\n\nAlthough the company motto is “Live simply. Consume carefully. Do good,” what specifically are they doing to support those principles? In some cases, they say, Australian wool is shipped to China for processing, and then to Portland, OR, for retail. Even if I accepted this dress would cross oceans, I’d want to know about their farm standards. By late 2024, they aim to phase out mulesing (painful skin removal to prevent parasites), but that’s a basic no-brainer. I’d want to see way more that’s in line with the Responsible Wool Standard, for example.
\n\n\n\nLarge companies that walk the talk when it comes to responsible wool are rare. But it isn’t hard to source felting and weaving fibres close to home, as Alberta has the second highest number of sheep in Canada, with almost a fifth of the country’s sheep in total. We have one of Canada’s few large mills, which are also among the last North American mills to perform every step of the process themselves, from super-dirty raw fleece to finished yarn and roving (carded and combed fibres that have not yet been spun). They source their wool with integrity from Western Canadian producers adhering to ethical standards. Their dyes are minimal-impact, and they even boast a line of naturally dyed yarn.
\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/09/WoolBody2.jpeg\")
Keeping with the idea of exploring my fibreshed, I drove 20 minutes to spend a morning with Tara Klager, the writer, shepherd, and farmer behind Providence Lane Homestead. My 4-year-old human, Mini Ewe, and I watched the “flerd” (flock/herd of sheep and alpaca) go about their happy daily routines. Many of Klager’s sheep even follow her around, not because they are mindlessly obedient—as the ridiculous phrase “sheeple” implies—but because, as Klager points out, they are excellent judges of character, and she is their person.
\n\n\n\nProvidence Lane is grounded in regenerative agriculture, a beautiful term with no universally accepted definition. It incorporates permaculture, biodynamics, the water cycle, rotational grazing, and so much more, as I’ve written about elsewhere. Sheep, it turns out, can actually revitalize our essential native grasslands and play a key role in rebalancing the ecosystem when raised in line with regenerative agriculture.
\n\n\n\nFor thousands of years, humans made nature into clothing, knowing each step like the backs of our very tired hands.
Klager wants people (you?) to contact local farms, go for a visit, and ask good questions about whether their practices match your values. How does your farm help heal the land? What specific regenerative strategies do you use, if any? Tell me about your sheep care; what makes a healthy, happy animal in your mind? What specific animal care standards do you meet or exceed? Klager is proud to be animal-welfare certified by A Greener World, for example.
\n\n\n\nTo Klager, regenerative agriculture is about restoring balance to the land through technical expertise and exceptional animal care. “Where I’m standing is as much of an actor as I am. The land isn’t a canvas I can impose my vision upon. It’s a stage with a full cast and crew and I’m one more player, just the latest in millennia.” Regenerative agriculture is “a good way to reconcile the future with the past, science with storytelling, legacy with inspiration, settler with Indigenous, and humanity with the natural world we’ve worked so hard to subdue.”
\n\n\n\nKlager is able to make this beautiful vision a reality. But she knows too well that wool is hugely devalued on the world market. Seventy-five years ago, she said, wool was a hot commodity and Canada was on the leading edge. But in the era of fast fashion and synthetics, some shepherds are forced to destroy their fleece because it’s not worth the time and money to process. But some, like Klager, are taking it to woollen mills, spinning it themselves, and hand-dyeing it for personal use or to sell. In fact, I recently helped on a sheep-shearing day, and came away with floofy raw fleece to clean, card, and spin or felt.
\n\n\n\nI just bought a pair of locally hand-dyed indigo wool socks from The General Bean, which I’m quite excited about. I like picking up locally made woollen goods like these, but for more substantial pieces, I have to go farther afield. I’ve been lucky enough to buy some key pieces from lovely Canadian companies like Anian, whose wool is post-consumer recycled. I regularly check the Patagonia sales for myself, and Wee Woolies for the kids, as they both make efforts to ensure ethical, sustainable sourcing (though much of their wool is from New Zealand).
\n\n\n\nIn the era of fast fashion, shepherds are forced to destroy their fleece because it’s not worth the time and money to process.
I don’t buy these items often and so many can’t afford them at all. So until more local-ish wool options are produced at a scale large enough to be affordable (which I believe is possible with enough consumer demand and fibreshed advocacy) I’m happy thrifting and getting hand-me-downs, felting the kids some not-plastic toys, and knitting the occasional small piece.
\n\n\n\nI bought a skein of yarn Klager spun, made with adorable Shelby and M’lynn’s fleece; I’m making Mini Ewe a headband to keep her hair out of her eyes at ballet class. It’s a minuscule action, but every stitch puts a tiny, rebellious smile on my face.
\n","protected":false},"featured_media":307,"template":"","meta":[],"categories":[19,20,8,10,43,22],"tags":[249,124,531,60,94,239,530],"class_list":["post-309","articles","type-articles","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-fashion-beauty","category-kids-parenting","category-living","category-magazine","category-black-sheep-parent","category-voices","tag-brianna-sharpe","tag-fashion","tag-natural-fibre","tag-opinion","tag-recycling","tag-textiles","tag-wool"],"yoast_head":"\nMini Ewe meets real-live ewes at Providence Lane Homestead near Cochrane, AB.
\n"},"alt_text":"","media_type":"image","mime_type":"image/jpeg","media_details":{"width":1500,"height":1125,"file":"2022/08/Wool-1.jpg","filesize":"307404","sizes":{"medium":{"file":"Wool-1-300x225.jpg","width":300,"height":225,"filesize":"22143","mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/Wool-1-300x225.jpg"},"large":{"file":"Wool-1-1024x768.jpg","width":1024,"height":768,"filesize":"182756","mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/Wool-1-1024x768.jpg"},"thumbnail":{"file":"Wool-1-150x150.jpg","width":150,"height":150,"filesize":"8304","mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/Wool-1-150x150.jpg"},"medium_large":{"file":"Wool-1-768x576.jpg","width":768,"height":576,"filesize":"111943","mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/Wool-1-768x576.jpg"},"full":{"file":"Wool-1.jpg","width":1500,"height":1125,"mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/Wool-1.jpg"}},"image_meta":{"aperture":"0","credit":"","camera":"","caption":"","created_timestamp":"0","copyright":"","focal_length":"0","iso":"0","shutter_speed":"0","title":"","orientation":"0"}},"source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/Wool-1.jpg","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/media/307","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/media"}],"about":[{"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/types/attachment"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/users/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/comments?post=307"}]}}],"wp:term":[[{"id":19,"link":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/category/living/fashion-beauty/","name":"Fashion & Beauty","slug":"fashion-beauty","taxonomy":"category","yoast_head":"\nI am in awe of young children, first as an educator and now as a mother of two young kiddos. I wish we were more like these thoughtful, empathetic, loving little humans. The way they notice and observe the tiniest of bugs on the sidewalk, the wholehearted love they have for their family, their natural kindness towards others, and their continual efforts to strive for justice and fairness.
\n\n\n\nAs expectant parents, we begin to think about how we will teach our children about life. We lie awake at night questioning our job as parents and teachers. What kind of role model will I be? How will I educate my child about kindness, empathy, and a belief in equality and inclusivity in a world that challenges these qualities even as an adult?
\n\n\n\nWhen my son entered grade 1, my skills and abilities as an educator and mother were tested. Every day as I picked my little man up from school, we had discussions about the “happenings” of the day, what words were used by students, what actions were displayed and what feelings were expressed. He now had to navigate a new world full of different people with diverse beliefs, values and behaviours, just like an adult entering a new job environment.
\n\n\n\nHow will I educate my child about kindness and empathy in a world that challenges these qualities even as an adult?
As my son’s world transformed, my guidance and teachings suddenly required modification and questioning: How do I teach my child to be kind and stand against injustice? How do I encourage empathy among students that mistreat him? How do I teach him to be brave and use his voice for peace?
\n\n\n\nBooks have a way of influencing. They’re also a great tool to teach children some of the most important lessons in life. Here are five books (appropriate for ages 4–7, give or take a year) that will inspire children and adults to try and make the world a better place with their words and bravery.
\n\n\n\nwritten and illustrated by Peter H. Reynolds
\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/09/Books-For-Budding-Activists_WebBody1.png\")
Say Something, written by Canadian author and illustrator Peter H. Reynolds, uses simple yet powerful words to encourage his readers to, “Say something. With your words. With your art. With your music. With your poetry. With your courage. Or simply with your presence.” The positive messages like, “If you see someone lonely… SAY SOMETHING… by just being there for them,” resonate like a choir in a concert hall. Large bold words are combined with colourful textured backgrounds.
\n\n\n\nAs an artist, I appreciate how he creatively uses specific colours to create emotions. For example, blue for loneliness, green to represent speaking up for nature, and red for standing up against a bully. His artwork is simple yet impactful. This book sits on my special bookshelf at home, and is a favourite with both of my kiddos. I love this book for the powerful evocations and messages of positivity and kindness.
\n\n\n\nwritten and illustrated by Kathryn Otoshi
\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/09/Books-For-Budding-Activists_WebBody2.jpeg\")
One is a symbolic book about standing up to bullies. This story is about Blue, a quiet colour who enjoys looking up into the sky and splashing in puddles. The conflict occurs when Red, a hothead, picks on Blue. With colours as characters in the story, Otoshi does a wonderful job evoking compassion and empathy from readers by incorporating relatable human qualities into each character. Even as an adult, I have authentic sad emotions when Blue is mistreated.
\n\n\n\nThe story continues as Red picks on Blue and the other colours, and grows more powerful, hotter, and redder until One comes along. Number One uses his voice, brings the colours together, and stands up to Red. This thoughtful, character-building book brings the reader into the story with a brave and positive message of how to stand one’s ground. It really does only take one person, one child, one “number” to make a difference.
\n\n\n\nwritten by Miranda Paul, illustrated by Ebony Glenn
\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/09/Books-For-Budding-Activists_WebBody3.jpeg\")
“There are times we should be quiet. There are days for letting go. But when matters seem important一SPEAK UP! Let others know.” Miranda Paul uses a melodic, rhythmic writing style to voice a clear message: SPEAK UP! Paul provides opportunities for young readers to participate in the story by using repetition. My own children love joining me on each page in unison as we cheer loudly, “SPEAK UP!”
\n\n\n\nThe story gives tangible examples of how together — through kindness, thoughtfulness, empathy and resilience — we make a positive difference with our everyday actions. “When a rule just isn’t fair, or has gotten much too old — SPEAK UP! Work for change. Justice comes when we are bold.” This book is a no-nonsense, literal guide that provides solutions to simple, real life scenarios. As an educator, I appreciate all the teachable moments and opportunities for discussion and learning.
\n\n\n\nwritten by David A. Robertson, illustrated by Julie Flett
\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/09/Books-For-Budding-Activists_WebBody4.jpeg\")
When We Were Alone won Canada’s 2017 Governor General’s Literary Award for picture books. In this touching story, a grandmother (Nókom) and her granddaughter garden together. The little girl asks her Nókom about her colourful clothes, long hair, and Cree language.
\n\n\n\nThe grandmother describes how the residential school she attended “far away from home” attempted to strip away Indigenous children’s culture through haircuts, uniforms, and language rules, and prohibited them from seeing their own families. Nókom shares how she and her friends resisted these injustices, and how as an adult she lives true to herself and her Cree culture.
\n\n\n\nJulie Flett’s art captures our hearts with her soft colour washes and overlapping collages creating texture and depth. I love how she contrasts Nókom’s bright red dress with the neutral colours of the environment, symbolizing the strength and determination of a woman who found joy in a difficult, unjust time in her life. Robertson addresses a painful topic in a story children can relate to and empathize with. Through his words, they are empowered to embrace their own cultures and respect others’. It’s the kind of story that instills the importance of standing up for each other to prevent future injustices.
\n\n\n\nwritten by Alice Schertle, illustrated by Jill McElmurry
\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/09/Books-For-Budding-Activists_WebBody5.jpeg\")
This book was my children’s favourite read when they were young, and we still share our love for it today, years later. Little Blue Truck is a fun book, full of heartwarming messages, and teachings of friendship. The author uses sing-song rhyming that creates a joyful reading experience for all. Children are captivated by the cheerful illustrations and the anthropomorphic farm animals.
\n\n\n\nThe story follows the eponymous little blue truck who shows compassion and love towards his community, including a rude, grumpy dump truck. In the end, Blue’s animal friends rally behind him when he finds himself stuck. “Now I see / a lot depends / on a helping hand / from a few good friends.” Like all the books in this list, Schertle’s story motivates readers to be kind, help each other, and to join together to make a difference.
\n","protected":false},"featured_media":1404,"template":"","meta":[],"categories":[13,20,8,10,43,7,22],"tags":[57,69,127,316,170,60,61],"class_list":["post-1163","articles","type-articles","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-art-design","category-kids-parenting","category-living","category-magazine","category-black-sheep-parent","category-society","category-voices","tag-activism","tag-books","tag-education","tag-janel-nail","tag-nehiyaw","tag-opinion","tag-social-justice"],"yoast_head":"\nThis morning as I watched 6-year old Little Grey Lamb lick the peanut butter and jam off his toast, I knew the fate of that bread: although I consume many kid leftovers, there was no way I’d put that slobbery mess in my mouth or in soup stock, and we’re choosy about what goes into our backyard compost. It was landfill-bound.
\n\n\n\nWhile some food waste is just the collateral damage of having kids, there is so, so much more we can prevent or divert. According to a 2019 report by Toronto-based food rescue organization Second Harvest, over half of Canada’s food is wasted every year, which is more than the global average of one third, and higher even than in the US, where between 30% and 40% of food is wasted. And 14% of that Canadian waste comes from households just like mine.
\n\n\n\nIt’s tempting to close our eyes to what we put in our trash cans, but the facts are hard to ignore. Wasted food is responsible for 8% of global greenhouse gas (GHG) emissions. Meanwhile, almost one in seven Canadians is food-insecure. That number goes up to one in five when there are children in the home.
\n\n\n\nWasted food is responsible for 8% of global greenhouse gas emissions.
Fixing food waste doesn’t automatically solve hunger, at home or abroad. But in lower-income countries, helping farmers avoid food loss and spoilage can make more food available to those who need it. In higher income countries, reducing food waste along the supply chain means retail costs can go down.
\n\n\n\nAddressing food waste feels overwhelming, because it is. It’s hugely complex, but I’m choosing to start in my kitchen and work my way out.
\n\n\n\nThe term “farm to table” is popular on restaurant menus and grocery store placards, but it can be hard to wrap our heads around the costs of that journey. Author and advocate Tristram Stuart said in a 2019 interview that “wasting a third of the world’s food supply represents a colossal amount of completely needless deforestation, carbon emissions, soil erosion, fresh water use and species extinction.”
\n\n\n\nGlobal emissions from wasted and lost food are around three times the amount produced by aviation. While agricultural practices, land use, and supply chains are the biggest GHG culprits, I’ve come to appreciate that any household scraps I can’t compost will soon be releasing methane in a landfill — without helping anyone’s garden grow.
\n\n\n\nSome environmental costs of food production are inevitable, but food waste is by definition avoidable.
The food system guzzles up our water as well, so wasted food means wasted water. The American National Resources Defense Council estimates that throwing out one hamburger wastes as much water as a 90-minute shower, and an egg uses the equivalent of an 11-minute shower. Some environmental costs of food production are inevitable, but food waste is by definition avoidable. These are unnecessary impacts.
\n\n\n\nWhile it’s impossible to create a one-size-fits-all solution to manage these impacts, Stuart has no problem coming up with one word to describe the food system: “Ecocidal.” It’s a decidedly glum term, but it contains a (very tiny) glimmer of hope. We got ourselves into this mess because our actions are powerful. We need to remember that power to effect change as we look for solutions.
\n\n\n\nIt’s been difficult to focus on food waste over the course of the pandemic. When my childcare went from part-time to zero-time, it was a struggle to even make dinner, let alone make plans for those poblano peppers I purchased on a whim. But a recent article I wrote on global food waste reminded me of everything we already do in my family — and also that I’d better use my privilege to do more.
\n\n\n\nWhile many families are tossing less due to meal plans and less-frequent shopping trips, both were pre-pandemic normal for us. We have a backyard composter (OK, three) and garden boxes ready to receive their output. Our freezer is full of veggie scraps for “someday soup.” I pack leftovers for lunches, and make breadcrumbs from stale crusts. I scan the quick-sale section of No Frills, looking for discounts on soon-to-expire tins, and cereal in damaged boxes.
\n\n\n\nI also lose track of mystery meals at the back of the fridge. I lament liquified lettuce in the crisper.
But I also lose track of mystery meals at the back of the fridge. We toss things based on expiration dates (which I know are woefully unregulated and misleading for consumers, but until a better system comes along, I often err on the side of caution). I lament liquified lettuce in the crisper. And the lamenting intensifies as I consider that Canada’s National Zero Waste Council says the amount of vegetables this country wastes every day is equivalent to 470,000 heads of lettuce.
\n\n\n\nI’m far from perfect, so I asked my savvy group of parent friends for their tips. Here’s a selection:
\n\n\n\nVanesa’s one word struck me as important, so I asked her for more. Vanesa is originally from Mexico, where the mothers and grandmothers say “la comida es bendita” and “la comida es sagrada” (meaning “food is blessed” and “food is sacred”). Food is sacred and wasting it is akin to sin. Luckily, “all leftovers can be tacos.” Vanesa has made tacos for me, and I assure you this is a delicious solution.
\n\n\n\nI’ve gotten so lost in statistics on food recovery and tips to prevent loss, I’ve forgotten our relationship with food is a contract. In taking care of our bodies, we are obliged to also take care of our planet and community.
\n\n\n\nI want to be part of food rescue efforts in my community, so I reached out to a local non-profit, the Cochrane Food Connection. It turns out there is a tonne of work being done. Most grocery stores and restaurants are diverting waste by giving to food banks or community outreach programs, though a couple are not. It was disheartening to discover not everyone is on board, but I’m stoked there are people out there inviting companies to participate, even if they’re not always getting the answers they want.
\n\n\n\nIn taking care of our bodies, we are obliged to also take care of our planet and community.
I found out that a community pantry is being launched this month; I’m sure my kids would like to become volunteers (a.k.a. food rescue adventurers) if we can. I also learned some retailers are donating food they can’t sell to a program that will help young parents learn to cook for their families. News like this makes the tough truths of food waste go down a bit easier.
\n\n\n\nEating our food before it goes bad won’t fix the food system, nor will it magically mean the end of hunger. But 63% of Canada’s household food waste is avoidable, so each bit we prevent puts less pressure on the planet. Ultimately, I want my children to know that preventing food waste isn’t only a set of habits we perform, but a sacred responsibility we uphold.
\n","protected":false},"featured_media":305,"template":"","meta":[],"categories":[18,14,20,8,10,43],"tags":[249,109,33,145,214,425,60,94,93],"class_list":["post-310","articles","type-articles","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-awards","category-food","category-kids-parenting","category-living","category-magazine","category-black-sheep-parent","tag-brianna-sharpe","tag-community","tag-composting","tag-family","tag-food-security","tag-food-waste","tag-opinion","tag-recycling","tag-zero-waste"],"yoast_head":"\nWhile some food waste is just the collateral damage of having kids, there is so, so much more we can prevent or divert.
\n"},"alt_text":"Image of a variety of food waste","media_type":"image","mime_type":"image/jpeg","media_details":{"width":1500,"height":1004,"file":"2022/08/Food-waste-1.jpg","filesize":"305736","sizes":{"medium":{"file":"Food-waste-1-300x201.jpg","width":300,"height":201,"filesize":"22831","mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/Food-waste-1-300x201.jpg"},"large":{"file":"Food-waste-1-1024x685.jpg","width":1024,"height":685,"filesize":"157413","mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/Food-waste-1-1024x685.jpg"},"thumbnail":{"file":"Food-waste-1-150x150.jpg","width":150,"height":150,"filesize":"10205","mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/Food-waste-1-150x150.jpg"},"medium_large":{"file":"Food-waste-1-768x514.jpg","width":768,"height":514,"filesize":"98495","mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/Food-waste-1-768x514.jpg"},"full":{"file":"Food-waste-1.jpg","width":1500,"height":1004,"mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/Food-waste-1.jpg"}},"image_meta":{"aperture":"0","credit":"","camera":"","caption":"","created_timestamp":"0","copyright":"","focal_length":"0","iso":"0","shutter_speed":"0","title":"","orientation":"0"}},"source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/Food-waste-1.jpg","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/media/305","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/media"}],"about":[{"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/types/attachment"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/users/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/comments?post=305"}]}}],"wp:term":[[{"id":18,"link":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/category/awards/","name":"Awards","slug":"awards","taxonomy":"category","yoast_head":"\nBrooke Huxtable has been home for the better part of a year and misses her cheer mates. The teen from Mississauga, ON, has multiple diagnoses — including autism, epilepsy, and a hearing and vision impairment — and is a member of the first special abilities team to ever represent Canada at the International Cheer Union World Cheerleading Championships. Her team won the bronze in 2018 and a silver in 2019, and were training for the 2020 competition when Covid-19 shut the world down.
\n\n\n\nBut with many summer camps either delaying or cancelling their openings, it’s looking like Brooke may spend another summer at home. With the ongoing pandemic, emergence of variants, and the slow-to-start vaccine rollout, most in-person camps and recreational activities for kids with special needs stand to be cancelled or heavily modified.
\n\n\n\nFor families with children and youth on the autism spectrum and with considerable health issues, virtual programming has been a mixed bag. Just like with virtual schooling, some kids have found it hard to connect with instructors and teachers, while others have had the time to breathe and learn important life skills in the safety of their homes.
\n\n\n\nCovid has been tough on all kids, but our kids with special needs need that social interaction so much more.
“Covid has been tough on all kids, but our kids with special needs need that social interaction so much more,” says Brooke’s mom, Caroline Huxtable. “But finding a program for our children, where they are supported by trained staff in an inclusive environment, where they aren’t judged and where their potential and their talents are encouraged, is quite challenging. Cheering was great for her in all those aspects, so it was a blow when she couldn’t do it anymore.”
\n\n\n\nIn the past year, Brooke bonded with her family members over a variety of virtual activities like yoga, art, and cooking. She especially enjoyed the Zoom cooking sessions conducted by Chef Anthony Go. Before the pandemic hit, he had been conducting in-person cooking classes for individuals with a developmental disability as part of a program developed by Autism Ontario and the non-profit Big Spoon Lil Spoon.
\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/12/Screen-Shot-2022-12-02-at-4.57.22-PM.png\")
When day programs were shuttered, Go — who lives as an adult with autism spectrum disorder — switched to online cooking classes, which will also be offered this summer.
\n\n\n\n“Being able to participate in Chef Anthony’s program for Brooke has been hugely beneficial, because she’s dealing with our kitchen and the tools in it,” says Caroline, a registered early childhood educator. “It helps to tie in what she learns at cooking programs outside. She can translate these skills to her real, daily life. It’s been an eye-opener for me as well — I’ve realised that I should be involving her more in prep at home.”
\n\n\n\nBrooke — who is usually in a special classroom at her high school — did get a bit of a break from homeschooling, though. She was able to attend school for a few months at the beginning of the year, and her cheer teammates and coach met a few times in person for mental health chats. She has also resumed her therapeutic horseback riding lessons, which not only help her with physical therapy but also with the much-needed opportunity to connect socially with the staff and volunteers at the stable.
\n\n\n\nMedical experts have emphasized the need for relaxation and recreation for kids already stressed with having to flit between online and in-person learning for over a year now. Additionally, virtual camps for kids on the spectrum have their unique challenges. Younger kids find it hard to focus on instructions and often need to be redirected, resulting in frustrated kids and instructors alike.
\n\n\n\n“Recreational activities for children with developmental disabilities — when conducted in the right environment — have tremendous positive impact,” says Dr. Patrick Jachyra, a postdoctoral fellow at the Azrieli Adult Neurodevelopmental Centre at Toronto’s Centre for Addiction and Mental Health. “The key, however, is constructing environments that set children up for success, as recreational activities can also be a stressful experience if, for example, the social and physical environment are not tailored to the needs of children with developmental disabilities.”
\n\n\n\nRecreational activities can be a stressful experience if the social and physical environment are not tailored to children’s needs.
Jachyra’s research examines how physical activity impacts the mental health of individuals with developmental disabilities across the lifespan. He cautions that virtual programming is not a one-size-fits-all solution. “For some kids on the spectrum, virtual recreation might be an option for those who are comfortable with being in a virtual environment, and have the ability to follow along with all activities and events,” he explains. “For others, virtual environments might be an option if they have the appropriate support such as a parent or caregiver who is close by to potentially help out if needed, along with breaks structured into the activities.”
\n\n\n\nFamilies of kids with developmental disabilities aren’t the only ones impacted by cancelled or transformed summer camps this year. Children with cancer have long found joy and connection at in-person camps like those conducted for years by the privately funded, nonprofit Camp Ooch and Camp Trillium.
\n\n\n\nThis past year, these camps moved to a virtual platform, which had benefits like making camp programming available to kids in hospital who wouldn’t have been well enough to attend in person. But actually being with kids who share a diagnosis was invaluable, according to Letitzia Serbanescu, mother to an 8-year-old with cancer. Serbanescu spoke recently at a panel conducted by the camp to discuss strategies and safety measures for this summer.
\n\n\n\nWhen she went to camp, it was an eye-opener for her. She felt she wasn’t alone.
“My daughter, when she was 6, two years ago, hadn’t really seen too many kids at the hospital, she was in her room a lot,” says Sebanescu. “She went through hair loss and hadn’t seen too many kids going through the same, so it wasn’t good for her self-esteem. But when she went to camp, she met and mingled with kids at different stages, and it was an eye-opener for her. She felt she wasn’t alone.” The camp is hoping to organise “family retreat style” in-person overnight camps, where families will move around in bubbles and participate in socially distanced activities.
\n\n\n\nOne of the camp’s highlights is for staff to do a cheer when families arrive.This year staff hope to do it, albeit masked and safely apart.
\n\n\n\nMeanwhile, Caroline is also hoping for some cheer: specifically for Brooke to reunite with her cheermates, and ideally participate in some summer camps so they can both get a break. Stretched thin from being Brooke’s caregiver and teacher rolled into one, while managing the house and working at her job — Caroline just isn’t excited about summer this year.
\n\n\n\n“I usually look forward to summer, but with no ability to make arrangements or plan anything, it is just more of the same,” she says. She is waiting to hear from an epilepsy camp among others, but is aware that this year it will look vastly different. “Fortunately, Brooke just got her first vaccine on May 24th. So I am feeling more comfortable about her attending, but still expect a high level of precautions. Brooke is still homeschooling, so it will be a very long summer if kept home through till September… and I am getting Zoomed out!”
\n","protected":false},"featured_media":1659,"template":"","meta":[],"categories":[49,20,8,7],"tags":[373,109,58,156,127,105,61],"class_list":["post-1531","articles","type-articles","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-human-rights","category-kids-parenting","category-living","category-society","tag-baisakhi-roy","tag-community","tag-covid-19","tag-disability","tag-education","tag-mental-health","tag-social-justice"],"yoast_head":"\nLast February, I invited a group of friends over to mend clothing and drink tea. While the snow fell outside, we gushed over thread colours, shared techniques, and admired one another’s handiwork. I repurposed an old (unused) diaper liner into a patch for jeans. My friend Gisele showed us how to darn a wool sock, whisking us back to a slower time. Although the evening was more banter than backstitch, it turned fixing fabric into a chance for connection instead of a chore.
\n\n\n\nOur plan to meet again in March was ripped away like almost everything else that month. But the spirit of that gathering has stuck with me, beyond just being a symbol of the “before times.” Although I can’t mend in community, making colourful repairs to my kids’ clothing has become a way to affirm my love for them and the world we live in. And more than that — it’s a reminder that we can always create new stories using pieces of broken ones.
\n\n\n\nI’m not writing this piece as a mending expert; I don’t have much technique, and nothing I’ve done is particularly Insta-worthy. But my stitches seem to hold, and are a way I resist both the monotony of stay-at-home parenting, and the lure of online pandemic shopping.
\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/patched-jeans-1-1024x765.jpg\")
This September, five-year-old Little Grey Lamb started kindergarten. The tiny backpack we bought him last year wouldn’t hold all the things he’d need for class, so I picked up a new-to-us one at our local gear exchange. It’s sturdy but shabby, so I embroidered yellow stars to hide some tiny holes. Showing up on that first day, so many other kids had brand-new Avengers or Spider-Man packs. I momentarily felt bad. But not only has he never asked for such a bag, I know when he looks at those little stars, he remembers how I make things special for him by making special things for him.
\n\n\n\nMaking colourful repairs to my kids’ clothing has become a way to affirm my love for them and the world we live in.
Mending influencer Kate Sekules (yes, there is such a thing!) says “the opposite of hate is mending,” which resonates with me. This small act conveys so much care for my family and the planet. As the pandemic pushes us indoors, it’s also making us all reevaluate our commitment to “fast fashion” — and reaffirming our commitment to sweatpants. It’s dismaying that Amazon founder Jeff Bezos has become US$74 billion richer through this time. But I think, increasingly, people are trying to reuse what we own instead of making people like him richer.
\n\n\n\nMy friend Jess says her mending is aspirational: she dreams of living a handcrafted life, but her family’s day-to-day means that fast fashion and quick fixes are realities. “Mending is kinda like my middle finger to [those realities],” she says. “If I can get clothes to last through both kids, at least it’s something.” When possible, she buys clothes from organic indie designers, and mending them when they’re worn out helps justify the expense.
\n\n\n\nLike so many parents over the last seven months, I’ve spent 4000% more time with my kids than I ever thought I would. So much of it has been warm and wonderful. But while I think I’m a great part-time stay-at-home parent, I’m distinctly mediocre when I have to do it full time — so I’ve had to find ways to make this new life my own. There are always dishes in the sink, and I’m pitiful at keeping the living room tidy, but I’ve canned our jam for the year and mended my way through a small pile of worn-out knees.
\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/gisele-1.jpg\")
Similarly, my friend Gisele uses needle and thread to make her home-bound existence more enjoyable. “Mending got me through helping my kids with pandemic schooling at home,” she says. “Anyone who has taught a kid to read knows what torture this is. Having something simple to do at the same time gave my hands something to do and helped me not go crazy.”
\n\n\n\nAs Kate Sekules pointed out in a recent episode of the vintage style podcast Pre-Loved, the history of mending is “not … very sexy.” In conversation with the show’s host, Emily Stochl, Sekules goes on to explain that across time and culture, clothes were often the most valuable and labour-intensive thing people would own. These days, of course, the opposite can also be true. Mending takes time and mental space, which are resources many can’t justify spending when t-shirts are $5 at Walmart.
\n\n\n\n“[Mending] has got a sort of shameful history, of course, because mending in history speaks of poverty and deprivation, and even worse things,” Sekules says. Perhaps in homage to that painful history, she is trying to politicize mending; she’s created a series called “sewhername,” in which she stitches the names of Black women who have died at the hands of the police onto pieces of clothing.
\n\n\n\nThere are many cultural histories wound up in the act of fixing clothes, most notably the Japanese tradition of sashiko: that swoon-worthy white stitching over dark fabric. The fractal-like patterns are actually lines of running stitch carefully linked together. According to Atsushi Futatsuya — a sashiko educator who grew up surrounded by this centuries-old technique — it was created of necessity by Japanese families who couldn’t afford new clothing or fabric. “Sashiko was developed for that purpose of surviving through the days, especially in winter: repairing, mending, stretching the fabric,” he says. “It is the deep down history.”
\n\n\n\nNeedles and thread have long had the potential to add strength in tough times, to show care in a bleak world.
Even the iconic white thread on indigo fabric of sashiko reveals its history, says Futatsuya, as they were the cheapest and most available materials. The creative stitching would have been done by someone for whom speed was important and whose skill with a needle would make their fabric stronger.
\n\n\n\nFutatsuya is an ardent protector of what he calls “the Japaneseness” of this stitching practice. “If one starts not caring [about] the origin of its culture, then the culture may be repainted,” he said in an interview earlier this year with Matador. “There are people behind the culture.”
\n\n\n\nMy little projects are not sashiko. In fact, Futatsuya is worried that sashiko culture is being “re-painted” by the new (non-Japanese) trend of visible mending. But through these varied histories, I’m reminded that needles and thread have long had the potential to write new stories: to give new life to a garment, to add strength in tough times, to show care in a bleak world. These days, we need to believe we can put something beautiful on top of something broken — not to erase the flaws, but to make the burden bearable.
\n","protected":false},"featured_media":323,"template":"","meta":[],"categories":[18,19,20,8,10,43,22],"tags":[249,121,124,60,120,94,239,93],"class_list":["post-343","articles","type-articles","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-awards","category-fashion-beauty","category-kids-parenting","category-living","category-magazine","category-black-sheep-parent","category-voices","tag-brianna-sharpe","tag-children","tag-fashion","tag-opinion","tag-parenting","tag-recycling","tag-textiles","tag-zero-waste"],"yoast_head":"\nMending by the author’s friend Jess: “This mend was just trying to get the rhythm of the stitching on the left leg, and trying to create a patch from scratch. I want my kids growing up knowing rainbows and all they stand for.”
\n"},"alt_text":"Jeans with mended thighs. One leg has a dark rectangle patch with a stitched rainbow; the other has rows of yellow stitches.","media_type":"image","mime_type":"image/jpeg","media_details":{"width":1298,"height":1298,"file":"2022/08/Jess-1.jpg","filesize":311206,"sizes":{"medium":{"file":"Jess-1-300x300.jpg","width":300,"height":300,"filesize":29972,"mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/Jess-1-300x300.jpg"},"large":{"file":"Jess-1-1024x1024.jpg","width":1024,"height":1024,"filesize":369617,"mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/Jess-1-1024x1024.jpg"},"thumbnail":{"file":"Jess-1-150x150.jpg","width":150,"height":150,"filesize":8244,"mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/Jess-1-150x150.jpg"},"medium_large":{"file":"Jess-1-768x768.jpg","width":768,"height":768,"filesize":212360,"mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/Jess-1-768x768.jpg"},"full":{"file":"Jess-1.jpg","width":1298,"height":1298,"mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/Jess-1.jpg"}},"image_meta":{"aperture":"0","credit":"","camera":"","caption":"","created_timestamp":"0","copyright":"","focal_length":"0","iso":"0","shutter_speed":"0","title":"","orientation":"0","keywords":[]}},"source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/Jess-1.jpg","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/media/323","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/media"}],"about":[{"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/types/attachment"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/users/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/comments?post=323"}]}}],"wp:term":[[{"id":18,"link":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/category/awards/","name":"Awards","slug":"awards","taxonomy":"category","yoast_head":"\nOne morning at the elementary school in Delta, BC, where Shaista Kaba Fatehali teaches, the principal came to tell her she’d be getting a new student. Fatehali asked his name so she could label his cubby. It was Ahmed; he was a refugee from Syria.
\n\n\n\n“In my school,” says Fatehali, “we’ve had such an influx of refugee students.” Most of them were displaced by the Syrian civil war that began in 2011. In September 2015, the body of 3-year-old Alan Kurdi washed up on a Grecian shore, prompting Canada to open its doors more widely to Syrian asylum-seekers like Ahmed’s family. According to Immigration, Refugees and Citizenship Canada (IRCC), 64,765 Syrian refugees arrived between November 2015 and May 2019.
\n\n\n\nFatehali’s kindergarten classroom would be Ahmed’s first formal learning environment, so she expected some academic deficits. What she wasn’t prepared for were “the social and emotional challenges we would both have to overcome.” For instance, she’d assumed he’d experience separation anxiety, but didn’t realize school bells and airplanes overhead would scare him.
\n\n\n\nTo ease Ahmed’s transition, his 17-year-old brother Hamza — whose lack of formal schooling kept him from entering Canadian high school — came too. While Ahmed learned his alphabet, so did Hamza. The older boy also learned simple conversational English. On the last day, the kindergarten students received report cards. Hamza asked Fatehali where his was.
\n\n\n\nFatehali didn’t realize school bells and airplanes overhead would scare her new student.
“I, of course, did not have one for him. But instead told him all that he had learned and accomplished,” says Fatehali. “I could see he was proud of himself. Through school, Hamza learned that he was accepted and valued in his new country.” This moment made Fatehali realize that helping refugee students feel they belong could be a stepping stone to success in their new country. She went searching for tools to help teachers do just that.
\n\n\n\nWhen Syrian refugees began arriving, IRCC had published a population profile — containing information about Syrian newcomers’ demographics, cultural considerations, and health characteristics — which the BC teachers’ union had given its members. The profile provided a helpful baseline, but Fatehali knew building bridges in the classroom would require stories kids could relate to.
\n\n\n\nShe found herself staring into a void where there should have been children’s literature — particularly picture books — about refugee kids settling into new environments. “There wasn’t any literature out there that didn’t just talk about a refugee crisis,” says Fatehali, who is also a PhD candidate in early childhood education at Concordia University Chicago, and founded Thrive Kids!, a learning-coaching company.
\n\n\n\nShe decided to write a book herself in which new students could see themselves, and other students could glimpse a newcomer’s viewpoint. She drew on her own family’s experience leaving Kenya after neighbouring Uganda expelled residents of Asian descent in 1972, triggering fears of similar expulsions in nearby countries.
\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/09/This-Picture-Book-Helps-Refugee-Kids-Integrate-at-School_WebBody1.jpg\")
The result is Back Home (2019), the story of 5-year-old Asha on her first day of school in a new country. As a first-time writer with no agent, Fatehali faced repeated rejection in her search for a publisher, some of which she thinks stemmed from the story’s central family being Muslim. In the end, Back Home found a home with Virginia-based Brandylane Publishers.
\n\n\n\nAs Asha enters her classroom, she’s bombarded with the unfamiliar and afraid to leave her father’s side. Throughout the day, Asha’s classmates smile at her and include her in their play, and she notes similarities between the values of patience and generosity in her new classroom, and those in her class back home. She remembers old friends fondly as she connects with classmates. At the end of the day, Asha realizes: “I feel happy. I feel like I am at home.”
\n\n\n\nOne of the greatest challenges at the elementary school level is the lack of teacher training in how to support refugee students.
“It is extremely important, when we deal with kids, that we create a sense of, ‘Home is where we are,’” remarks Neila Miled, a PhD candidate in educational studies at the University of British Columbia who has extensively explored the topic of “home.” Her research includes a project with high school girls from refugee backgrounds who were given cameras to document their experiences and concerns. She’s also worked with a community organization to help resettle Syrian refugees.
\n\n\n\nA major finding of Miled’s research is that: “No other institution in our society could make you feel [more] at home, or homeless, like schools.” The teacher’s role, then, is crucial. Unfortunately, Miled explains, “one of the greatest challenges at the elementary school level is the lack of teacher training in how to support refugee students.”
\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/09/This-Picture-Book-Helps-Refugee-Kids-Integrate-at-School_WebBody2.jpg\")
Fatehali concurs. She had to change her dissertation topic because she couldn’t find enough teachers to study who had training in working with refugee students. That lack of teacher training coupled with non-existent literature reflecting these students’ experiences makes the need for a book like Back Home even greater.
\n\n\n\nRefugees come from all over, so Fatehali wanted the book to be relatable to children with a range of experiences. To that end, she created a main character who is Muslim, but doesn’t have a distinct national identity: “If I say this girl is from Syria then it kind of shuts people out.” To nail Asha’s generic Muslim look, Fatehali collaborated with illustrator Michelle Simpson on details like Asha’s dress and hair covering. Though Asha covers her head with a scarf, some of her hair peeks through, which is acceptable for children in many Muslim cultures. Her school clothing could be worn in many parts of the world.
\n\n\n\nThis decision has proven fruitful. Fatehali finds that kids reading her book relate to Asha, regardless of where they were born or whether they’ve experienced trauma. Many children she’s met when reading the book at schools have told her about feeling uncomfortable in new situations or not wanting to leave their parents. Fatehali’s goal was a book children from refugee backgrounds could relate to, but it turns out Asha’s story holds meaning for their classmates, too.
\n","protected":false},"featured_media":1390,"template":"","meta":[],"categories":[18,49,20,8,7],"tags":[69,121,109,127,145,146,270],"class_list":["post-601","articles","type-articles","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-awards","category-human-rights","category-kids-parenting","category-living","category-society","tag-books","tag-children","tag-community","tag-education","tag-family","tag-refugees","tag-taslim-jaffer"],"yoast_head":"\nDetail from the cover illustration of Back Home
\n"},"alt_text":"Illustration—a group of kids, some of them wearing hijabs, sit on a green rug in a classroom and wave hello.","media_type":"image","mime_type":"image/jpeg","media_details":{"width":1500,"height":1000,"file":"2022/09/BackHome-header.jpg","filesize":"281777","sizes":{"medium":{"file":"BackHome-header-300x200.jpg","width":300,"height":200,"filesize":"18617","mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/09/BackHome-header-300x200.jpg"},"large":{"file":"BackHome-header-1024x683.jpg","width":1024,"height":683,"filesize":"145663","mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/09/BackHome-header-1024x683.jpg"},"thumbnail":{"file":"BackHome-header-150x150.jpg","width":150,"height":150,"filesize":"7826","mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/09/BackHome-header-150x150.jpg"},"medium_large":{"file":"BackHome-header-768x512.jpg","width":768,"height":512,"filesize":"89960","mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/09/BackHome-header-768x512.jpg"},"full":{"file":"BackHome-header.jpg","width":1500,"height":1000,"mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/09/BackHome-header.jpg"}},"image_meta":{"aperture":"0","credit":"","camera":"","caption":"","created_timestamp":"0","copyright":"","focal_length":"0","iso":"0","shutter_speed":"0","title":"","orientation":"0"}},"source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/09/BackHome-header.jpg","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/media/1390","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/media"}],"about":[{"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/types/attachment"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/users/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/comments?post=1390"}]}}],"wp:term":[[{"id":18,"link":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/category/awards/","name":"Awards","slug":"awards","taxonomy":"category","yoast_head":"\nWhen my kids crawled into my bed this morning, they felt feral and fragile; we became foxes denning from a storm, and only unfurled when the wrestling began. The wilder ways of this time in general are comforting, as we explore the land, plant seeds, and watch robins. By nightfall, however, I’m often flooded by the very human anxiety I push aside through the day.
\n\n\n\nAnxious people are told we need to find calming strategies, but self-regulating in a pandemic feels impossible. Instead, like the foxes we started the day as, my family is learning to lean on one another and the land to get us through this. No element of an ecosystem is resilient on its own — connection is survival.
\n\n\n\nWhen we bought our mini-acreage, we imagined solar panels, a food forest, herb spirals. Five years and two kids later, we still have none of these things; but in this more isolated time, we’re digging into those dreams again. When the kids are finally in bed, we nerd out on permaculture videos. A method of growing things based on ecological patterns and human-nature harmony, permaculture also holds some surprising parenting truths.
\n\n\n\nPermaculture (a mash-up of “permanent agriculture”) is more than just gardening; it’s a practice that honours the connections between all elements of an agricultural system. Although the term permaculture itself is relatively new, these principles have often-unacknowledged roots in Indigenous understandings of ecology, which I’m committed to learning more about. In words attributed to Oren Lyons, faithkeeper of the Turtle Clan of the Onondaga Nation of the Haudenosaunee: “The environment isn’t over here, the environment isn’t over there. You are the environment.”
\n\n\n\nPermaculture helps us remember that we’re not a neutral presence in the garden. Whether we’re growing balcony tomatoes or farming our yard, permaculture offers principles that make growing systems sustainable by mimicking nature. While a conventional gardener might plant flowers they like the look of, a permaculturist would choose species similar to their area’s native plants that will both thrive and benefit the local ecosystem.
\n\n\n\nBy treating kids’ tough emotions like dandelions, and making the effort to understand them, we can ride them out together.
Permaculture is reminding me of parenting truths I knew in some distant pre-pandemic time. Many call dandelion, nettle, and vetch “weeds,” but permaculture teaches that their job is to tell us what’s going on beneath the surface. Our berry patch is full of dandelions this year; our neighbour sprays his, but we listen to ours. Alright, we still pull them sometimes, but first we listen. Dandelions restore soil health, particularly in disturbed areas — they’re telling us that the earth needs care. By treating Little Grey and Mini Ewe’s tough emotions like dandelions, and making the effort to understand them, we can ride them out together. And, actually, that goes for my tough emotions too.
\n\n\n\nOn day 25 of self-isolation, Little Grey Lamb kicked me in the face in a fit of (mostly) well-intentioned energy. Keeping my feelings inside felt too hard, so I wept. In front of my kids. And they held me and said lovely things. It didn’t scar them — in fact, they were fantastic. When I cried that day, I told them tears are safe, I’m okay even though I’m sad. We don’t pulverize our dandelions, we feed the need that brought them forward.
\n\n\n\nSince then, we’ve started naming our emotions more frequently. Grey and I made a feelings chart out of fairy cards; after a tough time, I either lead him over to it or he asks me to take him. We look at the pictures, and he points to one or two. I never blame or shame him, but instead help him move through discomfort.
\n\n\n\nRecently, Little Grey spent the morning zooming around the yard yelling “Look out! I’m… Goshawk Man!” in honour of the bird we just identified. It’s hard to express how excited I am that this imaginary winged superhero has replaced Paw Patrol. Like many other Canadians, we’ve become amateur birders. We love naming birds, but the principles of permaculture also remind me to help the kids see how birds fit into the big picture. How are the wolf willows, waxwings, and wild strawberries connected?
\n\n\n\nSometimes it’s hard to see. “Flowers are futile,” Eric said last summer. “They’re pretty, but pricey, so what’s the point?” I side-eyed him at the time, but he’s since come to love that the lupines we plant will fix nitrogen in the soil that will feed future plantings, and attract butterflies and bees that will pollinate our elderberry bushes. These in turn provide medicine for us, and food for cedar waxwings, who will distribute their seeds through poop (which is good for us, as we need more productive vegetation).
\n\n\n\nI’ve even read that elderberry bushes can lure bugs that would otherwise eat our nearby raspberries and haskaps by tempting them with a readily available food source — without even hurting the elderberries. The bushes’ leaves build the soil in the fall, which will help us grow more flowers and food. Relationships are essential to building healthy natural systems; the more interconnections, the better.
\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/permaculture-1.jpeg\")
Teaching ecological literacy to my kids has felt amazing. But between the flowers and the foxes, my anxiety still sprouts. Will my dad’s cancer treatment be impacted? How do I hold on to my career without childcare? Will I ever pee alone again? The kids ask when they’ll see granny and grandpa again, how long isolation will last, why other kids are allowed to play with one another and they aren’t. These questions consume me. As a way of processing all this, I ask another: What if my family were an ecosystem?
\n\n\n\nLike ecosystems, humans grow stronger through connection. In fact, the concept of co-regulation is foundational to child development: Infants lack the capacity to regulate their own emotions, so ideally they’re soothed by their caregivers’ voices, touch, attentiveness. Over time, they learn that help does come, and calm is within reach. Co-regulation also models what a mature nervous system looks like. My kids still need a lot of co-regulation. But in this time of fried nerves and hundred-mile stares, my own emotional regulation is far from robust, and I need it too. Just as our garden needs interrelationships to thrive, my family’s connection will help us through this time.
\n\n\n\nLike ecosystems, humans grow stronger through connection.
Ecosystems look messy; they’re teeming with life, colourful, and loud. Eric and I recently watched a video from Calgary’s Verge Permaculture, in which co-owner Rob Avis explained the difference between order and organization. Organization, he said, is a tree nursery: there are few relationships between species, and it’s dependent on human input. Order is a forest: if a human walks away from an orderly natural system, the system will continue to thrive.
\n\n\n\nThe journey through this pandemic has been wild. I’m not going to pretend that Covid-19 is just some simple weed we need to find the beauty in. A pandemic is a global threat — it has no dandelion sheen. At first, I thought I could organize it away with schedules and Zoom classes. Instead, my feral little family needs to embrace the mess of the forest, stay connected, and tap into the order of things.
\n","protected":false},"featured_media":329,"template":"","meta":[],"categories":[18,21,20,8,10,43,22],"tags":[249,121,154,145,236,624,120],"class_list":["post-344","articles","type-articles","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-awards","category-home-garden","category-kids-parenting","category-living","category-magazine","category-black-sheep-parent","category-voices","tag-brianna-sharpe","tag-children","tag-climate-change","tag-family","tag-gardening","tag-native-plants","tag-parenting"],"yoast_head":"\nIn the midst of a suburban neighbourhood hides an agricultural oasis: bees buzz, raised beds overflow with herbs, greens, and rhubarb; fields brim with rows of garlic, potatoes, melons, tomatoes, peppers, cucumbers, beets, and squash. It’s not uncommon to find farms in the Vancouver, BC, suburb of Delta — about a quarter of which is zoned for agricultural use — but this isn’t your standard Delta farm. Here at Farm Roots Mini School, the farmers are teens and their teachers, and the fields, beds, and beehives are one giant classroom.
\n\n\n\nFor two dozen students, the school provides an opportunity to learn about agriculture in a hands-on way — from managing a small orchard of a couple dozen trees to starting seeds, planting crops, and weeding. The program is run by the Delta School District on 3 hectares of land a few blocks away from the waters of Boundary Bay, within several hundred metres of the US border.
\n\n\n\n“It’s different than a typical classroom. It’s very open. We have a different schedule but we’re still getting all of our academics in a unique way,” says Denzel Chand, a grade 12 student in his second year of the program. He plans to pursue post-secondary studies in agriculture and business — an area he wasn’t aware of before attending the school.
\n\n\n\nHis career goals have been shaped by the curriculum at Farm Roots, where students connect not only to the land, but also the food system. The curriculum exposes students to agricultural careers and teaches them how to produce their own food.
\n\n\n\nIt’s an approach to education with the potential to fill gaps in the agricultural sector. According to the last agricultural census, farming is an aging field, with the average Canadian farmer aged 55 years old. In 2011, less than half of farmers (48%) were over 50. Five years later, that percentage was up to 55%. Although, the percentage of farmers under the age of 35 increased from 8% to 9% in that time. (The middle bracket of farmers aged 35 to 54 decreased from 45% to 36%.) Even in agricultural communities like Delta, some people worry that youth are growing disconnected from the production of their food.
\n\n\n\n“There was something definitely missing in the bricks-and-mortar aspect of our schools,” said Paige Hansen, the district vice principal of special programs with the Delta School District. “And farming was a sort of a way to connect, away from the industrial school model, and actually connect to the community that had been built on agriculture.”
\n\n\n\nEven in agricultural communities, people worry that youth are disconnected from the production of their food.
Farm Roots Mini School is open to students from Grade 10 to 12, from both within and outside Delta. Students spend half their time at the mini-school — where courses include environmental sciences, entrepreneurship, land and food systems, and English — and half of their time at their regular home high schools. Now in its fourth year, the program has grown from eight to 24 students.
\n\n\n\nAccording to Cody Forbes, a teacher and coordinator for the school, the coursework incorporates agriculture and farming as much as possible. For example, in chemistry class, students learn about common chemicals used in agriculture and their environmental impact. The students also learn from local experts and visit agricultural facilities — such as dairy farms and greenhouses — that can’t be offered on site.
\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/12/farmroots-body-1024x418.jpg\")
“What we can’t learn about firsthand on our farm, we have the very generous community within Delta that allows us to go into their space and do a little bit of learning there as well,” said Forbes.
\n\n\n\nTheir school days all look different, depending on the time of year. In the winter, students spend more time inside the classroom. In the spring, there is more outdoor work, including starting seeds, planting crops, weeding, watering, tending to the bees, and caring for trees in the orchard. The program reflects the range of crops and animal production in BC, allowing the students to learn about the diversity of the province’s agricultural industry firsthand.
\n\n\n\n“When more kids are engaged in hands-on learning, such as food systems and gardening and farming, they’re learning a really useful skill,” Hansen adds. “Particularly in light of this latest pandemic, the idea of having food security and knowing how to plant your own food is more relevant than ever.”
\n\n\n\nMany Farm Roots students have been able to continue outdoor work on the farm since the Covid-19 pandemic began, and the school is going ahead with six weeks of student programming this summer. However, because of the ongoing need for physical distancing, the program will go on hiatus for the 2020–21 school year.
\n","protected":false},"featured_media":1727,"template":"","meta":[],"categories":[14,20,8,51,9],"tags":[30,127,465],"class_list":["post-1781","articles","type-articles","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-food","category-kids-parenting","category-living","category-vancouver-area","category-west-coast","tag-agriculture","tag-education","tag-shelley-tomlinson"],"yoast_head":"\nStudents from Farm Roots Mini School in Delta, BC, help out in the fields at Schoolhouse Farm, also in Delta.
\n"},"alt_text":"A group of students tend to the soil in the middle of a sunflower field, under a blue sky with clouds.","media_type":"image","mime_type":"image/jpeg","media_details":{"width":1500,"height":1000,"file":"2022/12/farmroots-header-1.jpg","filesize":"296476","sizes":{"medium":{"file":"farmroots-header-1-300x200.jpg","width":300,"height":200,"filesize":"16963","mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/12/farmroots-header-1-300x200.jpg"},"large":{"file":"farmroots-header-1-1024x683.jpg","width":1024,"height":683,"filesize":"150885","mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/12/farmroots-header-1-1024x683.jpg"},"thumbnail":{"file":"farmroots-header-1-150x150.jpg","width":150,"height":150,"filesize":"7071","mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/12/farmroots-header-1-150x150.jpg"},"medium_large":{"file":"farmroots-header-1-768x512.jpg","width":768,"height":512,"filesize":"90264","mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/12/farmroots-header-1-768x512.jpg"},"full":{"file":"farmroots-header-1.jpg","width":1500,"height":1000,"mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/12/farmroots-header-1.jpg"}},"image_meta":{"aperture":"0","credit":"","camera":"","caption":"","created_timestamp":"0","copyright":"","focal_length":"0","iso":"0","shutter_speed":"0","title":"","orientation":"0"}},"source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/12/farmroots-header-1.jpg","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/media/1727","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/media"}],"about":[{"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/types/attachment"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/users/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/comments?post=1727"}]}}],"wp:term":[[{"id":14,"link":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/category/living/food/","name":"Food","slug":"food","taxonomy":"category","yoast_head":"\nAs an on-again-off-again cyclist, I’ve always had a grudging admiration for those people who choose to ride everywhere, all of the time. I know people on Vancouver’s North Shore who ride to and from work — up to 25 kilometres away — every day, and even more that ride for fun and fitness. I can actually see myself commuting with rain gear and a briefcase, but what would happen if I also had a family to transport?
\n\n\n\nI asked North Vancouver District councillor Mathew Bond. When Bond’s daughter Wilhelmina was born, he didn’t rush out to buy a minivan: he decided to stick with his bright red 2016 Ezee Expedir cargo bike. When he became a father, Bond stepped back from his career as a transportation systems engineer for BC’s Ministry of Transport and became a stay-at-home dad. Because his work as a city councillor tends to be confined to evenings, he’s free during the day to parent.
\n\n\n\nWilhelmina is now 6, with a 3-year-old sister named Coral. Bond still loads them onto the back of his bike and rides with them all over the hills and streets of North Vancouver.
\n\n\n\nA basic cargo bike like the Benno Carry On can be purchased for under US$1,500, but if you add extra carrying capacity and electric-assist, prices can quickly reach five times that number. So before you spend that much money, you really need to make sure it’s the right choice for you. Bond says he bought his cargo bike before they were all the rage, and he chose an electric version to take on the hills in his area.
\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/09/Car-Free-Parenting_WebBody1.jpg\")
Bond cautions the curious to test ride these bikes before making a commitment. “My suggestion to people thinking about a cargo bike is to go borrow or rent one. Try it out, see what it’s like, even if it’s just for a day or just for a ride,” he says. “If you haven’t been biking in a long time, or you’re not a person that bikes regularly, try a little trip to the grocery store. I regularly put $300 worth of groceries on the bike. Carry some other things around before you carry your children around on it.”
\n\n\n\nTry it out, see what it’s like, even if it’s just for a ride.
But Bond’s biggest tip is a simple one: get advice from people already riding. In Vancouver, there are family biking Facebook pages, which include members that are taking their kids on cargo bikes. Social media offers a community that can answer questions about what type of bike will work best for each person’s circumstances. You can ask questions like: What kind of gear do you need, and where can you get it? Who has the best shops and the best services?
\n\n\n\n“And get a buddy and do a few rides… while they’re out and about on their cargo bike,” says Bond. “See where they go, what they do and how they do it. And ask them to come with you on your first few rides, or when you’re trying something like carrying a large load.”
\n\n\n\nIf you’re planning on loading your kids onto the bike, you have a whole new set of concerns, according to Bond. First off, is helmet safety: “You have to wait till your child’s head fits a helmet.”
\n\n\n\nBond started each of his girls riding up front in a seat between his arms. When Bond’s youngest, Coral, started riding, he added a second seat on the back of the bike for Wilhelmina. Eventually both Bond’s girls wound up riding on the rear carrier. If you’ve got two small people on the back of a bike, face them away from one another so they don’t knock helmets.
\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/09/Car-Free-Parenting_WebBody2.jpg\")
The father of two also has some advice for those in the driver’s seat. “Make sure you’re comfortable. Build up your confidence, and learn your routes,” he says. “Take your kids on a ride in the park, somewhere safe, and then kind of build up from there.” He’s also the former president of the North Shore Mountain Bike Association and believes that cycling with his girls gives them a better understanding of their hometown. While most kids travel in a rear-facing car seat, his girls are riding along with him.
\n\n\n\n“Kids have a lot less freedom nowadays,” says Bond. “Because they get driven around, they don’t even understand their own neighbourhood. I think developing that kind of sense of place is important.”
\n\n\n\nAs well as helping his daughters to map out their own hometown, the bike trips build confidence and knowledge in his daughters. “The girls know how to get to Lynn Valley, or their friend’s house. Wilhelmina can give me directions: ‘Okay, it’s this way. And let’s go here; let’s go there. Remember when we saw that animal here?’”
\n\n\n\nBond’s final piece of cargo-bike advice is to think carefully about storage. If you live in a condo or apartment, or if you have to navigate a small elevator, what are the best places to park and lock your bike? And if it’s electric, where can you plug in to charge it?
\n\n\n\nBond has a parking space with a regular electrical outlet, but had to ask his strata for permission. And then they had to figure out how much to charge him.
\n\n\n\nAfter years of riding everywhere on a cargo bike, juggling kids, and home, and council work, Bond is happy with his choices. “When I tell people I use it for almost all my everyday trips, many are stunned, but also excited, and ask ‘Well, how do you . . . ?’”
\n\n\n\nWhen I tell people I use it for almost all my everyday trips, many are stunned, but also excited.
Growing up on the back of a cargo bike has one more important benefit for Bond’s daughters. It’s no surprise that Wilhelmina is proud that she can now ride on her own.
\n\n\n\n“I already knew how to pedal when I was 4,” she says. “I practised and practised… I first started with no pedals. Then I said, ‘I have enough balance Papa.’ Then I tried the pedals.”
\n\n\n\nAnd when asked if she had ever fallen: “Yeah. But not too hard.”
\n","protected":false},"featured_media":1265,"template":"","meta":[],"categories":[11,20,8,6],"tags":[282,121,112,120],"class_list":["post-715","articles","type-articles","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-climate-change","category-kids-parenting","category-living","category-planet","tag-barry-rueger","tag-children","tag-cycling","tag-parenting"],"yoast_head":"\nIn the eco-mommy-blogosphere, one topic is most polarizing: diapers. The cloth and disposable camps come armed with decades of research into why any choice other than theirs is terrible for the planet. And no wonder: The average child wears around 4,000 diapers in its first two and a half years. Add in an aging population, and diapers are a $65-billion-dollar industry globally.
\n\n\n\nSo who’s got it right? With impacts including carbon emissions, water usage, toxic chemicals, industrial waste, and disposal, this is a complex issue with no simple answers. Here’s the science you need to cut through the stench:
\n\n\n\nAs more people become alarmed by the garbage crisis, cloth diapers have made a comeback. But they’re generally made of cotton, and even organic cotton production uses massive amounts of water. Manufacturing one kilogram of cotton fabric — roughly equivalent to 24 prefold diapers — requires 10,000 litres of water. (Prefolds are fabric pads used with waterproof diaper covers.)
\n\n\n\nWater consumption and carbon emissions from laundering are another major impact of cloth diapers. (More on this below.) Many cloth varieties can be used with disposable inserts, which reduce the cleaning required, but add to overall diaper waste. Some companies claim their inserts are flushable, but they’re not suitable for most sewage systems. Given that flushed wet wipes have caused the formation of giant “fatbergs” in sewers — the largest so far reportedly weighs 400 metric tonnes — it’s easy to imagine the damage flushed diaper liners could do.
\n\n\n\nOne-child’s-worth of cotton diapers consumes between 48,000 and 126,000 litres of water.
From manufacture to disposal, one-child’s-worth of cotton diapers consumes between 48,000 and 126,000 litres of water. Disposables use less, but the amount is still substantial: between 35,000 and 75,000 litres per child. Alternatives to cotton like bamboo or hemp could prove more friendly to our climate and water supply, but more research is needed, according to a diaper life-cycle analysis led by Australian environmental engineer Kate O’Brien.
\n\n\n\nDisposable diapers are typically made from absorbent softwood pulp and petroleum-derived polymers, lined with plastic and bound with glue. They dominate the market because they’re convenient. But the adhesives responsible for “ultra leak protection” come with ecological costs: they’re heavily processed fossil fuels. The additional plastics associated with packaging add up too, as do emissions from transportation.
\n\n\n\nResponding to consumer concern over waste, both the disposable and reusable diaper industries commissioned studies comparing them. According to one study backed by Procter & Gamble — a big player in the disposable market — diapers became lighter by more than 50% between 1988 and 2010, reducing environmental impacts from raw materials and manufacturing.
\n\n\n\nThe adhesives responsible for “ultra leak protection” are heavily processed fossil fuels.
Researchers have also examined whether disposable diaper materials pose a human health risk. One recent study published in Reproductive Toxicology found all four diaper brands tested contained volatile organic compounds (VOCs) linked to asthma and cancer (as did 11 menstrual pad brands). Some of these chemicals can be absorbed by the reproductive system, and are linked to issues like early-onset puberty. Meanwhile, disposables-industry-funded studies maintain the diapers are completely safe.
\n\n\n\nMost “green” disposables are made from either unbleached materials, recycled pulp, or both. That’s good, because diaper materials are most often bleached with chlorine, polluting waterways with the carcinogen dioxin. But buyer beware: You might see ECF (Elemental Chlorine Free) among the ecolabels, which means the diapers were bleached with a harmful chlorine derivative. Look for those labeled Totally Chlorine Free (TCF), which use safer alternatives.
\n\n\n\nOther green varieties replace petrochemical plastics with bamboo and corn. These have potential to reduce impacts, but can shift the environmental burden, since they’re still water, land, and energy-intensive to produce. One Australian study found that materials for compostable diapers require 1.4 times more land to produce than regular disposables.
\n\n\n\nJust because a label says “100% recycled,” doesn’t mean the company pays workers fairly.
When it comes to disposables claiming recycled materials, check the percentage. Huggies Pure & Natural has been widely criticized for only using recycled material in its packaging (and just 20% at that). Seventh Generation fessed up to dying diapers “eco-friendly” brown. And just because a label says “100% recycled,” doesn’t mean the company pays workers fairly or minimizes pollution in its factories. Look for companies that are genuinely invested in a fair and circular economy, with certifications like Cradle to Cradle.
\n\n\n\nRegarding potentially hazardous chemicals, a recent study by the French agency for environmental health found that “green” diapers also contained harmful chemicals like dioxin, formaldehyde, and VOCs.
\n\n\n\nDiapers make up an average of 4 to 10% of our collective solid waste. By one measure, disposables amount to 10 kilograms of waste per week, compared to 0.11 kilograms for cloth diapers. And the hard truth is, every disposable diaper that ends up in the landfill will be there for a very long time: an estimated five centuries.
\n\n\n\nAs Sherry Schiff, a groundwater expert at the University of Waterloo, points out in an online essay, diapers put materials that require sewage treatment into a landfill. With contaminants like E. coli bacteria in our landfills, we risk harming our water supply, or those dealing with the mess. Read the fine print on disposables or on your municipality’s website, and you’ll see the request to flush human waste down the toilet before disposing. Whether that’s a realistic expectation of consumers already opting for convenience is another question. (Though many moms vouch for a bidet-style “diaper sprayer.”)
\n\n\n\nEven biodegradable materials like softwood pulp need special conditions to break down.
But what about biodegradable varieties? It’s a moot point if they’re in the landfill, research shows, as even biodegradable materials like softwood pulp need special conditions to break down. Eventually diapers may be compostable, but more work needs to be done. If you’re lucky, you live in one of the few places that does “compost” diapers, like the City of Toronto, though the word is a simplification. Diapers are picked up curbside from green bins and processed: agitated in hot water so plastic materials separate from organic waste and pulp, which go on to compost in an anaerobic digester, using microbes. All plastics and synthetics go to the landfill.
\n\n\n\nComposting also requires land. The City of Toronto is running out of space in its landfill for waste and compost, and many alternative waste facilities aren’t equipped to handle human waste. Nor is curbside diaper pickup cheap.
\n\n\n\n“Cloth nappies washed in cold water in full loads and line-dried have the lowest environmental impact,” O’Brien explained over email. But if you’re not going this route, the overall impacts of cloth and disposables come out even, though each system makes its impacts in different ways.
\n\n\n\nThe good news with cloth diapering is caregivers have more control over their environmental impact. Cloth diapers’ biggest resource-draws are the water and energy used in production and washing. Tumble drying cloth diapers boosts their contributions to global warming by 43%. Renewable energy and efficient washing machines can tip the scale further for cloth diapers. Bonus points if they’re used on more than one child. For disposables, the only substantive way to reduce their impact is to use fewer, O’Brien points out. (Google “elimination communication,” and brace yourself for the mommy blogosphere).
\n\n\n\nCloth nappies washed in cold water in full loads and line-dried have the lowest environmental impact.
Those daunted by cold-water washing and hang-drying can focus on mitigating the environmental impacts that concern them most. If you care about water usage, use a front-loading machine for cloth diapers, or opt for disposables that use less water in their manufacture (bamboo holds a lot of potential). If it’s toxic chemicals in our landfills and water supply, look for cloth diapers certified for meeting the Global Organic Textile Standard (GOTS), which addresses both environmental and labour issues. Or choose disposable varieties that say “unbleached,” “chlorine-free,” or “glueless.”
\n\n\n\nConcerned about carbon emissions? Wash cloth diapers with cold or solar-heated water and hang dry. And don’t use commercial diaper services: the transportation emissions can cancel out the benefits. If the sheer volume of resources and waste weigh you down, go cloth or get creative in using fewer diapers.
\n\n\n\nConsidering green disposable alternatives add significant cost to a necessity many already struggle to cover, it’s important to note the science says not to stress too much. Your energy may be better spent demanding local government invest in diverting organic waste from landfills, and supporting energy-efficient homes. “Nappies are visible, and the debate is loud,” says O’Brien. “As if this is the only environmental impact of a new human on the planet.”
\n","protected":false},"featured_media":1010,"template":"","meta":[],"categories":[20,8,10,6,39,23,28],"tags":[415,121,330,262,120,104,94,93],"class_list":["post-557","articles","type-articles","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-kids-parenting","category-living","category-magazine","category-planet","category-plastic-pollution","category-start-small","category-decider","tag-bathroom","tag-children","tag-erin-flegg","tag-lauren-kaljur","tag-parenting","tag-pollution","tag-recycling","tag-zero-waste"],"yoast_head":"\nI was at a playgroup just before Halloween, casually eavesdropping on some moms talking about buying costumes. “I just couldn’t believe what the Aurora costume cost me at the Disney Store: 80 bucks!” one said. Another spent even more on an adult Daffy Duck costume so she’d match her daughter.
\n\n\n\nI thought about joining in, but what would I say? “Oh, tell me about it! I had to pay a whopping $8 for my 4-year-old son’s Elsa costume on VarageSale!” Confident that wouldn’t make me any friends, I pragmatically chose silence.
\n\n\n\nMost of my family’s possessions, from puzzles to furniture, were acquired through swapping, bartering, thrifting, or inheriting. If I really can’t find it second-hand, I buy online to avoid splurging on things we don’t need. You won’t find many brand-name goods in our house, though we rarely say no if we’re given something useful-but-branded. (That said, gender-binary-and-unrealistic-body-enforcing franchises like Barbie are a no-go for me.) The kids don’t look like they came out of a catalog, but they don’t seem to mind.
\n\n\n\nModern parenting is so closely tied to consumerism, I’m tempted to return to my short-lived anarchist phase.
Parents are a marketer’s dream: we’re tired, short on time, and want “the best” for our kids. At some point, we were sold the idea that having a great family life meant buying stuff. On any given Saturday, my local Walmart is 1,000-times busier than our river trail system. I get it; so many of us are strapped for cash, but it takes time and mental space to find quality used goods. Modern parenting is so closely tied to consumerism, I’m tempted to return to my short-lived anarchist phase. Instead, I remind myself good parents don’t have to be good capitalists.
\n\n\n\nLike so many North American families, our budget gets eaten up by childcare, mortgage payments, and groceries. The average Canadian carries C$23,000 in non-mortgage debt, according to the Credit Counselling Society. In light of how easy it is to slide into the red, I try to cut every corner I can.
\n\n\n\nFinances are an incentive to live lighter, but planetary and human costs loom larger for me. Between their greenhouse gas emissions, water pollution, and exploitative labour practices, I’m just not keen on the textile and toy industries. I know my individual actions are a drop in the bucket, but doing nothing while the planet burns doesn’t feel like an option.
\n\n\n\nMy family bonds through activities that don’t involve purchasing stuff.
In a 2018 literature review on how materialism develops in children, researcher Marsha Richins emphasizes the importance of parents helping kids develop a sense of identity beyond their things. My family bonds through activities that don’t involve purchasing stuff. When the kids ask for toys, our typical answer is “we’re choosing to spend our money in other ways.” Then we go to the pool, put on our cross-country skis, or take out a game from the library.
\n\n\n\nUnless you live on a sailboat or in the wilderness (both very appealing), it’s not easy to resist the commodification of childhood. Some days I feel like Disney characters lurk in every corner, while Paw Patrol hides in plain sight.
\n\n\n\nResearch shows that kids who consume more TV with targeted ads have higher rates of materialism. The Canadian Pediatric Society recommends choosing non-commercial television sources, and avoiding ads when possible. For a time, I tried to parent totally screen-free while working from home with two kids under five. It was disastrous for my mental health.
\n\n\n\nI still try to regulate what my kids watch; they’re usually happy with streamed episodes of Magic School Bus and blurry re-runs of Today’s Special. Although I’d enjoy Miss Frizzle or Muffy Mouse toys, I appreciate these shows’ lack of large-scale merchandise tie-ins.
\n\n\n\nThe average Canadian household spent C$3,430 on clothing in 2017, according to Statistics Canada — just a few hundred less than on recreation. I’m thrilled we don’t spend anywhere near that. But the fact 90% of our clothing is secondhand is a sign of our privilege: thrifting takes time, scanning online sites requires technology and time, and my hand-me-downs come from a community lucky enough to have clothes to pass along.
\n\n\n\nMy kids are young, but I’m already stockpiling ideas for the future. Sarah Elmeligi of Canmore, Alberta, told me she only buys secondhand clothes for her two teens. For Christmas, Elmeligi asked her 14-year-old what she wanted, and her list specified only used clothing. When asked why, the teen mentioned the clothing industry’s pollution and abuse of workers, and pointed out that “used clothes are so much more unique. I’m curious to see what people find for me!”
\n\n\n\nWhen we get a box of hand-me-downs, we look through it as enthusiastically as we would store aisles — trying things on, putting on fashion shows, and assembling outfits.
By framing consignment clothing as an expression of creativity, I hope to foster this same attitude in my kids. When we get a box of hand-me-downs, we look through it as enthusiastically as we would store aisles — trying things on, putting on fashion shows, and assembling outfits.
\n\n\n\nAs writer Jillian Johnsrud pointed out in a 2016 blog entry, “Shaped by Poverty,” buying secondhand can be hard for those raised with less. “I still struggle walking into a thrift store, there is something about the familiar smell of used clothing that makes me feel uneasy,” she wrote. “We don’t want to look poor.” As someone who can afford to shop at the swankier consignment stores, I know I’m lucky not to be saddled with those associations.
\n\n\n\nI really like what Tracy Keats-LaPointe of Calgary does with her kindergarten-aged son. If he wants something new, “he will make a ‘sell’ pile from his current toys so that he can afford to buy it, and also make space for it in our minimalist toy collection.” They sell on Facebook Marketplace or to local consignment stores, and rarely buy anything actually new.
\n\n\n\nI’ve personally had great luck on Varagesale, a local-to-your-community buy-and-sell app that’s a bit less anonymous than similar services, because participants need to sign in with Facebook accounts. The Buy Nothing Project has local Facebook-based groups that let communities create what they call a “gift economy.” (A box of baby blankets is currently on my porch waiting for a young single mother to pick it up, in fact!) While we don’t yet have one in my town, toy libraries are popping up globally for parents who either can’t afford — or don’t want to buy — piles of new things to spice up their toybox.
\n\n\n\nIn the lead up to this Winter Solstice, my family is going to try out a reverse advent calendar. Instead of the kids opening a door and getting a chocolate each day, we’ll find a new way to give back to the community together. If all goes according to plan, we’ll give winter gear to a homeless shelter, carol in our neighbourhood, and bake cookies for a seniors’ residence.
\n\n\n\nThe laughter those moms shared over costume-buying reminded me that parenting culture not only encourages consumerism, we often don’t know how to connect without it. In retrospect, I wish I’d found a way to join their conversation. Whether you’re buying used or refusing to buy, these choices need to be normalized. Not just for our pocketbooks, but for the planet, and the little people who will inherit it.
\n","protected":false},"featured_media":319,"template":"","meta":[],"categories":[20,8,10,43,22],"tags":[249,98,327,60,120,94,93],"class_list":["post-345","articles","type-articles","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-kids-parenting","category-living","category-magazine","category-black-sheep-parent","category-voices","tag-brianna-sharpe","tag-ecology","tag-holidays","tag-opinion","tag-parenting","tag-recycling","tag-zero-waste"],"yoast_head":"\nThis year, we’re trying out a reverse advent calendar. Instead of the kids opening a door and getting a chocolate each day, we’ll find a new way to give back to the community together.
\n"},"alt_text":"A box with 12 advent calendar-like sections inside decorated with paper stars and holly and labelled “Give Back Until the Light Comes Back.”","media_type":"image","mime_type":"image/jpeg","media_details":{"width":1500,"height":1125,"file":"2022/08/give-back-box-1.jpg","filesize":"307987","sizes":{"medium":{"file":"give-back-box-1-300x225.jpg","width":300,"height":225,"filesize":"18657","mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/give-back-box-1-300x225.jpg"},"large":{"file":"give-back-box-1-1024x768.jpg","width":1024,"height":768,"filesize":"128844","mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/give-back-box-1-1024x768.jpg"},"thumbnail":{"file":"give-back-box-1-150x150.jpg","width":150,"height":150,"filesize":"8464","mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/give-back-box-1-150x150.jpg"},"medium_large":{"file":"give-back-box-1-768x576.jpg","width":768,"height":576,"filesize":"80736","mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/give-back-box-1-768x576.jpg"},"full":{"file":"give-back-box-1.jpg","width":1500,"height":1125,"mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/give-back-box-1.jpg"}},"image_meta":{"aperture":"0","credit":"","camera":"","caption":"","created_timestamp":"0","copyright":"","focal_length":"0","iso":"0","shutter_speed":"0","title":"","orientation":"0"}},"source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/give-back-box-1.jpg","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/media/319","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/media"}],"about":[{"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/types/attachment"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/users/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/comments?post=319"}]}}],"wp:term":[[{"id":20,"link":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/category/living/kids-parenting/","name":"Kids & Parenting","slug":"kids-parenting","taxonomy":"category","yoast_head":"\nLittle Grey has just learned the number 50, so lately everything takes place in that many minutes, days, or years. “Mama,” says my preschooler, looking up from his Lego space shuttle, “I love our home. I want to still live here in 50 years.”
\n\n\n\nI smile and say, “Well, that would be lovely.” I hope he doesn’t hear my voice falter, or notice that my smile never quite reaches my eyes. I have no idea if our neighbourhood will still be habitable by that point; in Canada, 61% of insured damage from extreme weather events between 2010 and 2017 was in my home province of Alberta. There’s ample evidence indicating that these volatile trends will only increase. Additionally, I worry about our off-grid well if the water table becomes polluted, or just too low to provide our family with potable water.
\n\n\n\nI’m suddenly both angry and sad — all I should be worrying about is whether I will still be around with him in 2070, not whether our neighbourhood will be.
\n\n\n\nAs the US experiences its first wave of climate change migrants, I wonder: how did I just give birth to two tiny people only to worry about whether they’ll be pushed from their home by the time they’re adults? I’ve begun to deeply understand why some people are choosing not to bring children into this mess at all.
\n\n\n\nHow did I just give birth to two tiny people only to worry about whether they’ll be pushed from their home by the time they’re adults?
One of the authors of the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change’s most recent report warns that the governments of the world are “nowhere near on track” to meet the goal of limiting global warming to 1.5C above pre-industrial temperatures. As individuals, we absolutely should be following the steps listed in the BBC’s response to the IPCC report — but as parents, many of us are still trying figure out how the heck to prepare our kids for the realities that no earthly policy or lifestyle change could prevent. Variations on the question “How do I talk to my kids about climate change?” dominate my search history.
\n\n\n\nWhen I first started writing this column, I was planning on teaching my children about all the “bad stuff” as soon as I could dress it up in developmentally appropriate language. In my last article, I cited a piece by American environmental journalist Michelle Nijhuis, called “How I Talk to My Daughter About Climate Change.” Reading her article led me to realize that my original plan may not be the best tactic.
\n\n\n\nI recently had the privilege of talking to Nijhuis herself. She and her family live in the Columbia Gorge in Washington State, where periods of heavy smoke are the norm each summer. This is similar to Alberta, and Nijhuis, too, is concerned about her 10-year-old growing up in this reality. But, as she describes in that article, she’s letting her daughter learn about terrible things “bit by bit,” and allowing her to “choose when and how much to ask.”
\n\n\n\nI was planning on teaching my children about all the “bad stuff” as soon as I could dress it up in developmentally appropriate language. But that may not be the best tactic.
Nijhuis confirmed that I’m not alone in my initial impulse to teach my kids about the carbon cycle, fracking, single-use plastics, and other staples of environmentalism as soon as they can understand the words. “But what’s more important,” she said, “is thinking about what skills you need to navigate your relationship with the planet, with a changing climate.”
\n\n\n\n“We’re going to have to solve problems together, whether this means having productive conversations at a town council meeting, or organizing your neighbourhood to evacuate in case you have a wildfire… These skills are going to become more important as we have to start to deal with the causes of climate change, hopefully, and mitigate the effects.”
\n\n\n\nSo my new question is how to raise kids who are ready for the realities of the future, whatever those may be. For this, I turn away from Google, and towards a few wise people doing amazing work with youth. Through our conversations about how we can raise kids who are ready for whatever the future holds, I found three common threads: perception, reciprocity, and resilience as empowerment.
\n\n\n\nMichelle Nijhuis says that exposing our children to bad news too early can take an “emotional toll” on them. Educator Jessica Krause would no doubt agree, and confirms how pivotal it is to help young children feel connected with the natural world without feeling fear — it should be their home.
\n\n\n\nKrause teaches at New Jersey’s Ridge and Valley Charter School, where much of the curriculum is adapted from activist and eco-philosopher Joanna Macy’s work. “At our school,” Krause told me, “we don’t allow bad news until grade 4. We try to limit… pain and suffering, to have loving experiences of the natural world. So that when they’re ready, they can take hold of that as a root to move forward. Not that we keep information out, but we try to handle it so it make sense for the ages we teach.”
\n\n\n\nKnowing what’s right there around you — for food, for medicine, for fibre — this is a skill of perception.
“Out here on the east coast,” Krause continued, “we are just inundated with water. Knowing the weeds that can survive, knowing the plants that can help us… knowing what’s right there around you — for food, for medicine, for fibre — this is a skill of perception.”
\n\n\n\nI have a lot to learn about the land in terms of food and medicine sources, and am excited to dive into these lessons. For now, we are learning about tracking the animals who live here, and talking about what they can teach us.
\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/mini-ewe-feet-1024x478.jpg\")
Helping our kids learn what could feed, clothe, and sustain them in a time of need is more than just a skill of perception. There must be an attitude of reciprocity as well, Krause noted. “Trees are not objects, they are subjects… We try to teach young children about their place in the universe first… When we do their birthday celebrations, for example, we tell them that they are 13.7 billion years old, and it’s just these past five years that they’ve come into [human] form. We connect them to being stardust.”
\n\n\n\nWhen children perceive the gifts in the world around them, and feel reciprocity in their community of beings, they can both adapt to a changing world, and fight to preserve its integrity.
\n\n\n\nFor now, I won’t worry about explaining the impact of industrial development on groundwater to a 3-year-old.
This is revolutionary to me — it is also immensely relieving. For now, I won’t worry about explaining the impact of industrial development on groundwater to a 3-year-old.
\n\n\n\nWe’ll talk about the bigger issues when the kids are ready, and I’ll continue to role model by being a good environmental citizen. But today we sit and marvel at how a pelican floating on the lake’s surface might feel, and what gifts it brings. In time, my kids might ask about the threats facing pelicans, and how we might help them as part of their community.
\n\n\n\n“Everyone likes to be resilient,” said Michelle Nijhuis, quoting an acquaintance, “but no one likes the experience of actually becoming resilient.”
\n\n\n\nThat said, some people are helping others to see opportunity in the uncomfortable process of building resilience. Chris Gilmour is one — a writer and educator with the Changing World Project, he’s inspired by the need to not only help slow global warming down, but to teach people how to adapt to the changes that will inevitably occur.
\n\n\n\n“I work with hundreds of kids and adults a year, and many of them are still learning how to be in a stressful situation and still be able to see it through a calm lens… to re-centre, reconnect.”
\n\n\n\nGilmour is far from alone in seeing the tremendous need to adapt to these changing conditions. What’s different about his approach, though, is that he wants people to approach this need “with a positive outlook. It’s about empowerment, not fear or helplessness.
\n\n\n\nWhen I think about the kids, one thing I want them to do is not fall apart when shit gets hard.
This ability to find composure amidst challenge is one that Krause also sees as crucial: “When I think about the kids, one thing I want them to do is not fall apart when shit gets hard.”
\n\n\n\nGilmour encourages parents and teachers to resist protecting our youth from dissonance, but to instead guide them through it. Whether it’s resolving a schoolyard conflict, organizing a school walk-out, or planning a mountaineering expedition, our job as adults is not to tell our kids what to do, but to stand by and support them as they work through the hard stuff on their own.
\n\n\n\nI also spoke with 20-year-old Lily Barraclough, who embodies young people’s capacity to meet dissonance with a brave face and stand tall in its shadow. Barraclough is the Canadian program coordinator for iMatter, an inspiring youth-led organization agitating for hardcore climate policy. “Most of our youth are students,” Barraclough said, “we should be studying for tests, but instead we’re going to speak to city councils and politicians.” She emphasized how pivotal it is to honour the voices of young people, and to support them in their visions.
\n\n\n\nBarraclough’s courage aligns with something Nijhuis told me: resilience is also about “trusting our kids enough to not necessarily protect them from bad experiences, to let them face progressively harder challenges with our support on the sidelines. And really let them learn those lessons that… are going to make them better able to deal with the challenges of the world they’re inheriting.” And I know that when my kids are ready, they’ll be able to take these challenges on.
\n\n\n\nSitting on the edge of our lake with Little Grey and Mini Ewe, I feel much more settled than before I went down this rabbit hole of inquiry.
\n\n\n\n“Mama, I want to be a pelican in 50 years,” Grey says, looking across to the opposite shore. I’m still anxious for our world. I’m still grieving for the future I wanted them to have. But I smile at him, and this time it reaches my eyes.
\n","protected":false},"featured_media":265,"template":"","meta":[],"categories":[11,20,8,6,43,22],"tags":[249,121,154,348,145,60,120],"class_list":["post-264","articles","type-articles","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-climate-change","category-kids-parenting","category-living","category-planet","category-black-sheep-parent","category-voices","tag-brianna-sharpe","tag-children","tag-climate-change","tag-disaster-response","tag-family","tag-opinion","tag-parenting"],"yoast_head":"\nThe smoke came overnight, like a bad dream you try to rub from your eyes only to find it isn’t a dream at all. Although the Chuckegg Creek Fire burned over 1000 km away from our rural Alberta home, it turned our world an apocalyptic orange, made the air taste like soot, and kept us inside for the last days of May this year.
\n\n\n\nMy toddler, Mini Ewe, was mainly grumpy about not being allowed to finger paint on our air purifier. But 4-year old Little Grey Lamb’s questions came fast and furious: When will the smoke stop? Will the wildfires come here? Why is this happening? Will Daddy have to go help? Can we fix it?
\n\n\n\nParents like me aren’t phased by explaining where babies come from; we’re more concerned about explaining the climate crisis to a generation of kids caught between a game of hopscotch and a hurricane. Luckily, the experts have identified some best practices to help kids with their fears, without feeding them false promises.
\n\n\n\nParents like me aren’t phased by explaining where babies come from; we’re more concerned about explaining the climate crisis.
As parents, we’re hardwired to protect our kids — but sometimes that instinct can lead us astray. While we might want to reduce our children’s anxiety by downplaying climate-related risks, research shows the most resilient kids have parents who are upfront and honest.
\n\n\n\nCaroline McDonald-Harker, professor of sociology at Mount Royal University, found that after the 2013 Alberta floods, some kids bounced back while others didn’t. By the time the 2016 Fort McMurray wildfires broke out, she was in the midst of a new study to identify the factors that contributed to that resiliency.
\n\n\n\nIt turns out, the children whose parents engaged them in honest dialogue did better. For example, many of the kids whose parents tried to protect them by saying a disaster like the flood couldn’t happen again said they had less trust in their parents as they watched wildfires engulf Fort Mac.
\n\n\n\n“One of my strongest findings is that good communication helps children be resilient,” McDonald-Harker told me in an interview. “The one thing that I always recommend, regardless of age, is that parents are open and honest with their children.”
\n\n\n\nWhile honesty is critical, McDonald-Harker says our kids should also be armed with age-appropriate knowledge around what to do in an emergency and how to act as “catalysts of change” in their communities.
\n\n\n\nHaving a plan is critical for family safety, but it also reassures our kids. So next time Little Grey asks about whether the fires could come here, I’ll say, “I really hope they won’t, but I don’t know exactly what will happen in the future. You should know that we have a plan for emergencies. And here it is.” We followed the City of Calgary’s emergency guide to make our family plan, and love the city’s preparedness training courses, but there are no shortage of great resources out there.
\n\n\n\nResearch shows the most resilient kids have parents who are upfront and honest.
McDonald-Harker also found that “the kids who talked about climate change and the ways that they actively engaged in environmental efforts were more resilient than the kids who did not.”
\n\n\n\nMany parents she interviewed said the disaster had no affect on their own or their children’s drive to act on climate change. But their kids said the exact opposite: youth from 5 to 17 years old listed actions they’d begun after the disaster that helped protect the planet, like biking or recycling. In this era of climate crisis, the kids are showing us they’re alright (even if their parents don’t know it).
\n\n\n\nI’ve worried that talking to my kids about climate action or making change in our community might be too much for them; knowing it creates feelings of control and empowerment is a tiny bit of good news in a bleak time.
\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/smoky-pond-1.jpg\")
Kent Hoffman — developmental researcher, co-creator of the Circle of Security parenting program, and author of Raising a Secure Child — told me that, “the bottom line of the bottom line is that children need to know they’re in the presence of someone who is bigger than them, stronger than them, wiser than them, and deeply, deeply kind.”
\n\n\n\nWhen Little Grey asked his questions, my instinct was to throw information at him. And some of that is necessary. But talking to Hoffman also reminded me what lies beyond our words: as the bigger, stronger, wiser, and kind grownups, our first job is to be calm and collected.
\n\n\n\n“The child needs to know that you’re reading between the lines,” says Hoffman. “The anxiety is really what is driving the question, and not the answer that you give them.”
\n\n\n\nWhen I don’t know if the fires will reach our home or if Daddy will have to go help, I need to be upfront with Little Grey. But I also need to remember that he’s looking for reassurance, which comes from both my words and my presence. By accessing both kindness and courage, I can say, “I don’t know. But I’m here with you. We have a plan, and we’ll work through this together.”
\n\n\n\nI initially wanted this article to be an age-by-age guide to talking to kids about disasters, because the things we’re seeing seem to be so much more terrifying than I thought my 4-year-old could handle. But the climate crisis is transforming the nature of childhood. The world is intense, the future is uncertain, and there’s often no way to hide this from our kids.
\n\n\n\nThe way we work through these events and conversations with kids makes a difference. My partner — a child and adolescent mental health therapist who’s worked with families post-disaster — points out that “traumatic events don’t always traumatize.” We can’t prevent all harm as parents, but the ways we support our kids can protect them from further harm.
\n\n\n\nWhile of course our conversations about disasters need to be as age-appropriate as possible, Mount Royal University’s McDonald-Harker suggests that “a better guideline than age is the stage your child is at.” Their questions will tell us what they’re ready to hear; following their lead, our answers should start general and move to specific when asked.
\n\n\n\nTheir questions will tell us what they’re ready to hear.
If Little Grey asks whether the fires will come here, I can say, “I hear you’re worried. And while I don’t know what will happen exactly, I do know we’re prepared as a family.” If he follows up with another question about how we prepare, I answer, and just keep listening for what he really needs to know. As a parent herself, McDonald-Harker also knows some kids won’t ask questions, so we might just need to be the ones asking them questions, like “How do you feel about what we saw on the news?”
\n\n\n\nClose the conversation by asking if your child has any more questions, McDonald-Harker says; parents shouldn’t worry if they’re not clear on the answer. By saying, “I don’t know what causes these fires. Let’s look that up together,” we create a point of connection with our kids, and we increase trust. This also keeps our kids from seeking answers from friends with similarly incomplete knowledge, or from online sources that might scare or misinform them.
\n\n\n\nMy quest to support my kids stems from loving them so much it hurts, but also from feeling like I’m on shaky ground myself these days. When I think unflinchingly about the answers to Little Grey’s questions — the bleakest parts I wouldn’t share with him right now — I feel like I’m staring into an abyss. The climate crisis terrifies me, but I need to stay grounded for my family.
\n\n\n\nKent Hoffman is not your grandma’s parenting expert. He has a doctorate of theology and has worked with prisoners, homeless populations, and parents with traumatic pasts, so I have the feeling he knows my abyss well. “We’re at a time of huge peril in our culture,” he says, “partially because we have denuded reality from any sense of rootedness.”
\n\n\n\nHoffman emphasizes that what he calls “communion” is necessary both for ourselves and our world. I’m not religious, but I have my own ways of connecting to the vastness within and without, some of which I’ve let slip since having kids. My personal practices are mindfulness meditation and moving through the wilderness, but everyone will have their own.
\n\n\n\nAnything that can tap us into the bigger picture is how we can access the support we need to support our children.
“Anything that can tap us into the bigger picture is how we can access the support we need to be able to support our children,” says Hoffman. “Otherwise we’re just trying to do it on our own — we’re just toughing it out.”
\n\n\n\nThere’s no doubt that the world will be tough for Little Grey, Mini Ewe, and all the other small humans as they get bigger. Even though I experience a million moments of joy every day, if I stop too long, there’s also the white noise of worry in the background. (And by “worry” I mean dread). But Little Grey’s questions remind me that finding a purpose in this mess can be a powerful way to resist that dread. So today, my purpose is to be the bigger, wiser, stronger, and deeply kind grownup my kids need.
\n","protected":false},"featured_media":315,"template":"","meta":[],"categories":[11,20,8,10,6,43,22],"tags":[249,121,154,71,60,120],"class_list":["post-346","articles","type-articles","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-climate-change","category-kids-parenting","category-living","category-magazine","category-planet","category-black-sheep-parent","category-voices","tag-brianna-sharpe","tag-children","tag-climate-change","tag-climate-crisis","tag-opinion","tag-parenting"],"yoast_head":"\n\n\n\n\n\n“Children aren’t playing in the garden anymore; instead they’re filling in bubbles on worksheets. In the face of this indoor-ification, a cultural and educational movement is emerging — focused on new approaches to nature-based education.”
\n— Author and educator David Sobel
\n\n\n\n\n“Forest school has taught me that when we want to pick plants, their leaves or berries, we should always ask the plant for permission before we pick. If the plant says yes, we can go ahead and pick — you’ll just feel the answer from the plant, whether it’s yes or no.”
\n— Nala (8), student at Fresh Air Learning Elementary in North Vancouver, BC
In March, I joined my 4-year old at his forest preschool. The school operates on the grounds of a Guides camp by the Bow River — a wild break in the semi-urban landscape of our town. The first few minutes were just as I imagined: kids and big people said goodbyes, we sang a song greeting the Earth and sun, and gave ourselves a hug. But then, nothing.
\n\n\n\nWatching this gaggle of 3-to-5-year olds settle effortlessly into the winter landscape lit a fire in my heart.
I expected the teachers to give instructions, maybe outline the day. Instead, the kids led the way, scattering across a clearing like the sunlight across the snow. Some — including my son, Little Grey Lamb — found a giant log and made an improvised ladder against a tree. Some sorted through boxes of the school’s “spare parts” (pots, pans, spoons), and others plunked themselves down to smell the snowflakes.
\n\n\n\nOf course, all this independence was a delicately facilitated facade; the teachers had tabs on each child, and these interests had been honed over weeks of place-based, inquiry-driven education. But watching this gaggle of 3-to-5-year olds settle effortlessly into the winter landscape lit a fire in my heart.
\n\n\n\nSmiling into the sun, I couldn’t help but wonder: could this be our next generation of environmental avengers?
\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/kids-in-a-tree-1-1024x768.jpg\")
To be honest, forest school often just looks like kids playing in the trees (or snow, mud, grass, or tundra); in fact, that play immerses children in relationship with themselves, one another, and the environment. Originating in Scandinavia, forest schools have existed for over 50 years, and been adapted to different cultural contexts. They can operate in any natural environment, the philosophy just requires students to spend regular, repeated time in the same spaces; anywhere from 70–100% of each day can be spent outdoors.
\n\n\n\nLori Toma, co-founder of Little Grey’s school, Growing Roots Forest Play says, “The role that we play in nature, the role that we play in the space — we talk about it all the time. When we’re talking about the wild animals we see, [the kids] are very aware that this isn’t our space first, that the animals are sharing it with us.”
\n\n\n\nI get a lot of questions about our choice of school: How will he learn his letters? What if he never adapts to sitting at a desk? I’m not worried — these things can be worked in through teachable moments like counting ladybugs on a branch. Truthfully, I’m more concerned about his future in a changing climate. To navigate what comes next, he’ll need resilience, self-awareness, and critical thinking. And our planet will need empathetic, courageous people who aren’t afraid to get their hands dirty in the fight to protect our home.
\n\n\n\nLittle Grey’s teachers tell me he knows more about the natural environment than the average 4-year-old — and this makes me prouder than if he could already write his name. But the relationship I hope my kids develop with the Earth goes beyond understanding food chains and identifying moose tracks. I hope they develop a sense of empathy and ecological identity.
\n\n\n\nWhile the term may sound dry and academic, “ecological identity” is what develops when we take our place between the pine trees and the porcupines. It’s the feeling of being at home in the natural environment — and it cultivates our desire to look after it.
\n\n\n\nI get a lot of questions about our choice of school: How will he learn his letters? Truthfully, I’m more concerned about his future in a changing climate.
Elizabeth Boileau is a PhD student at Lakehead University in Ontario, researching Canadian nature schools. While her work hasn’t yet connected all the dots between forest schools and ecological identity, she believes these programs help students develop values that are “eco-centric, as opposed to anthropocentric. So later on in life, [children will be] looking at the natural world as if they are part of it, and it’s not something for us just to use to our benefit until there’s nothing left.”
\n\n\n\nParents of forest school kids don’t need research to confirm the power of these programs. Kate Coghlan, for example, says one of her favourite things about her now-5-year-old daughter’s experience at Langley Forest School in BC, “was the sense of connection children felt to the environment, animals, park, streams, and everything around them… I believe that this sense of connection helps children grow into people who are more caring about the environment.”
\n\n\n\nEven though most of them probably didn’t go to forest school, this kind of connection and concern led 16-year old Greta Thunberg and over 1 million other young people to take to the streets in March, and will continue to fuel their fight. Indeed, research out of Cornell suggests early experiences with the natural world can lead to future environmental activism or involvement. By giving our kids the ability to be in relationship with the land, we’re hopefully also giving the land a new generation of protectors.
\n\n\n\nAll that said, I’ve spent much of my adult life involved in outdoor education, and am keenly aware of the industry’s shortcomings. Forest school programs are mostly available to the privileged: they can be financially inaccessible to the majority of North American families, except in the rare cases they’re offered in the public system or as co-ops.
\n\n\n\nSchools must also grapple with the fact that they exist on Indigenous land, and operate within an education system badly in need of decolonizing. And in the words of academics Eve Tuck and K. Wayne Yang: “Decolonization is not a metaphor.” It isn’t nearly as simple as honouring Indigeneity through stories, lessons, or activities. There is no script, no land acknowledgment, no settler-created curriculum that can fix this.
\n\n\n\nWhile grownups have work to do on these fronts, our kids are busy playing like the planet depends on it. Their imaginations thrive in these immersive programs, and they become rooted in a sense of place.
\n\n\n\nSchools must also grapple with the fact that they exist on Indigenous land, and operate within an education system badly in need of decolonizing.
Michelle Goulet Barteaux, the founder of Wild Child Alternative Education outside Calgary, tells me about Rainbow Ridge, a meaningful place for her forest school students: “There’s construction coming, and I think Rainbow Ridge is one of the places that’s slated for burn… And that’s going to matter to [the students] — if they didn’t love this space, if we hadn’t lived there and occupied that space, they would probably be more interested in seeing the diggers.”
\n\n\n\nI’m only too happy to comb the grass from Little Grey’s hair and pick the sticks from his pockets, knowing he and his classmates are learning to care more for deer tracks than diggers. It’s easy to feel despondent about the planet’s future, and maybe that despair will lead us to planetary action — but today, I’m taking solace in the power of play, kids climbing trees, and spare parts.
\n","protected":false},"featured_media":318,"template":"","meta":[],"categories":[20,8,10,43,22],"tags":[249,121,127,141,60,120,613],"class_list":["post-347","articles","type-articles","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-kids-parenting","category-living","category-magazine","category-black-sheep-parent","category-voices","tag-brianna-sharpe","tag-children","tag-education","tag-nature","tag-opinion","tag-parenting","tag-winter"],"yoast_head":"\nAt forest school, play immerses children in relationship with themselves, one another, and the environment.
\n"},"alt_text":"Leafless trees form an arched pathway covering a snowy forest floor. A group of kids walk underneath.","media_type":"image","mime_type":"image/jpeg","media_details":{"width":1500,"height":1125,"file":"2022/08/forest-school-1.jpg","filesize":"303210","sizes":{"medium":{"file":"forest-school-1-300x225.jpg","width":300,"height":225,"filesize":"22218","mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/forest-school-1-300x225.jpg"},"large":{"file":"forest-school-1-1024x768.jpg","width":1024,"height":768,"filesize":"209653","mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/forest-school-1-1024x768.jpg"},"thumbnail":{"file":"forest-school-1-150x150.jpg","width":150,"height":150,"filesize":"7945","mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/forest-school-1-150x150.jpg"},"medium_large":{"file":"forest-school-1-768x576.jpg","width":768,"height":576,"filesize":"125688","mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/forest-school-1-768x576.jpg"},"full":{"file":"forest-school-1.jpg","width":1500,"height":1125,"mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/forest-school-1.jpg"}},"image_meta":{"aperture":"0","credit":"","camera":"","caption":"","created_timestamp":"0","copyright":"","focal_length":"0","iso":"0","shutter_speed":"0","title":"","orientation":"0"}},"source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/forest-school-1.jpg","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/media/318","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/media"}],"about":[{"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/types/attachment"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/users/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/comments?post=318"}]}}],"wp:term":[[{"id":20,"link":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/category/living/kids-parenting/","name":"Kids & Parenting","slug":"kids-parenting","taxonomy":"category","yoast_head":"\nMy daughter, 2-year-old Mini Ewe, is as comfortable squatting in a stream studying pebbles as she is perching at the table eating cereal — perhaps more so. She seems to speak to the water as it rushes through her tiny fingers, like she and the stream share a secret language that maybe I knew but lost somewhere along the way.
\n\n\n\nI’ve been feeling like my anxiety over the future of these wild places has damaged my ability to speak with streams and catch whispers on the wind. At the very time I need nature’s healing power the most, watching my daughter play with pebbles only reminds me of how much we have to lose.
\n\n\n\nI wish I could bottle the magic that Mini Ewe feels, and breathe it in every time I feel despair. Until magic-bottling tech goes mainstream, though, I’ll keep finding ways to bring nature’s enchantments into every aspect of our lives.
\n\n\n\nAs an outdoor educator, I’ve lived in the wilderness for weeks at a time — one group of students was even convinced I was raised by wolves. But since having my own kids, I find myself within four walls more than I’d like, so I’m always seeking ways the leaves, birds, and breeze can follow my family inside.
\n\n\n\nAt the very time I need nature’s healing power the most, watching my daughter play with pebbles only reminds me of how much we have to lose.
Here are five books to help raise the youngest earth-lovers — and maybe help us grownups stay enchanted by the Earth we’re fighting for.
\n\n\n\nWritten and illustrated by Debra Frasier (suitable for ages 0 to 3)
\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/On-the-day-you-were-born-1-300x232.jpeg\")
This book is a classic baby gift. While infants love the bright, contrasting colours, the message makes many parents (like me) a bit misty-eyed, even after our kids are old enough to read it to us. The dedication brings some big feels right away — to Mother Earth, Frasier’s own daughter, “and you” — and the heartstrings keep thrumming throughout. Frasier’s lines become song lyrics, welcoming the newborn “out of the dark quiet” and into nature’s orchestra of order. “On the day you were born, the moon pulled on the ocean below,” it reads. “A rising tide washed the beaches clean for your footprints.”
\n\n\n\nAnd for a moment, we remember that feeling: each footstep on the sand was new at some point, and animals were kindred spirits. This book grounds me in love both for my tiny people, and the world that welcomed them into its rhythms.
\n\n\n\nBy Linda Glaser and Elisa Klevin (suitable for ages 2 to 5)
\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/Our-Big-Home-1-292x300.jpeg\")
Emphasizing play and the feeling of being part of something bigger, this little book is a balm in a world of bad news. The illustrations capture tiny minds through detailing all the diverse cultures and creatures finding ways to share our home, our planet. There’s something about reading the poetry on these pages out loud to my kids that even placates my climate anxiety. It’s just for a few moments, but it’s enough.
\n\n\n\nOur Big Home exudes empathy and shared experience, which is essential if we are to overcome what Florence Williams, author of The Nature Fix: Why Nature Makes us Happier, Healthier and More Creative calls an “epidemic dislocation from the outdoors.” This isn’t restricted to adults; children, too, are forgetting how to connect with nature’s elements and creatures. If we could bottle some of the playfulness of this book, it would go a long way to reconnecting us to all the things that matter.
\n\n\n\nWritten and illustrated by Leo Yerxa (suitable for ages 3 to 7)
\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/Last-Leaf-1-223x300.jpeg\")
Before finding this book, my 4-year old, Little Grey Lamb, asked, “When did the first winter happen?” Kids love looking for beginnings, and by bringing readers to the moment when the very first fall became winter, this story brought Little Grey’s imagination to life. Ojibway author and artist Leo Yerxa makes readers feel as though we’re sitting on the edge of the world as we watch an adult and child wend their way through the wilderness by canoe.
\n\n\n\n“Playing, rolling on the ground, I was a leaf, ” the young narrator declares from a multicoloured pile of autumn’s cast-offs. Young readers might also feel this way — they, too, are nature, inseparable from its colours, sounds, and textures. Research has found that just as children’s language and aptitudes develop in phases, so too does their relationship with nature. The first phase involves feeling at one with the environment, and as caregivers, we can create positive, immersive experiences that allow this to emerge. While nothing can replace adventuring into the wild itself, it’s also important to share literature that mirrors those adventures.
\n\n\n\nIn Yerxa’s creation, nature is both powerful and playful — and, most importantly, a magical process that we can watch unfold.
\n\n\n\nBy Michael Nicoll Yahgulanaas, with an afterword by Wangari Maathai (suitable for ages 5 to 8) Note: This book does contain discussion of forest fires.
\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/Hummingbird-1.jpeg\")
While this book is more explicitly environmentalist than others I’ve included, this list would be incomplete without it. My own little hummingbirds love this story of a tiny being just like them trying to accomplish big things against all odds.
\n\n\n\nHaida author Nicoll Yahgulanaas reinterprets a Quechuan tale with Ecuadoran and Peruvian roots, explaining that the tiny protagonist, the hummingbird, has cultural significance for not only the Quechua, but also the Pueblo, the Haida, and the Tsimshian.
\n\n\n\nThe tale follows the plight of a hummingbird whose home and neighbours are threatened by a forest fire. Although she could fly away, she chooses to “do what [she] can” and tirelessly flies one drop of water from a stream to the fire.
\n\n\n\nMy own little hummingbirds love this story of a tiny being just like them trying to accomplish big things against all odds.
Kenyan activist Wangari Maathai’s afterword reminds us that this isn’t just a metaphor; Maathai’s Green Belt movement has had an enormous impact on watershed health and local livelihoods in Kenya, simply by planting one tree at a time.
\n\n\n\nIt’s taken time for my 4-year-old to process the wildfires that turn our air thick with smoke with increasing regularity, so be aware this story could be unnerving to some kids. Nonetheless, it can also help tiny people feel empowered to make big change.
\n\n\n\nBy Rosie Hall (for ages 6 and up)
\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/Nature-Journal-1.jpeg\")
And now for something a little different: A book for your family to write together. This little journal provides just enough structure to inspire kids to doodle, journal, or transcribe some of their own thoughts on each themed page. Your mini-Thoreau might want to start a moon diary on the page next to the moon-gazing chart, or try their hand at drawing local petals next to the diagram of flower parts.
\n\n\n\nMartin Shaw, mythic storyteller and author of Scatterlings: Getting Claimed in an Age of Amnesia, encourages us in this time of calamity “to be of a place,” not simply in it. “To be of is to hunker down as a servant to the ruminations of the specific valley, little gritty vegetable patch, or swampy acre of abandoned field that has laid its breath on the back of your neck.” Kids live in the details — 4-year-old Little Grey is very excited to document everything from the birds on our lake to the blades of dead grass in this DIY discovery journal.
\n\n\n\nI love that this little book lets our family hunker down in the world at our doorstep, and beyond.
\n\n\n\nBy creating experiences in nature for our kids, we’re also teaching them to be in relationship with it. At the same time, intensifying weather and reports of the climate crisis are changing my own relationship with the planet. Neil Gaiman, author of my favourite graphic novel series, The Sandman, wrote “Fairy tales are more than true: not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten.”
\n\n\n\nI believe these books also tell us a more-than-truth — while I won’t pretend to feel cheery about our planet’s future, these stories remind me that my family, and our relationship with the Earth, are stronger than fear.
\n","protected":false},"featured_media":313,"template":"","meta":[],"categories":[13,20,8,10,43,7,22],"tags":[69,249,121,141,60,120],"class_list":["post-348","articles","type-articles","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-art-design","category-kids-parenting","category-living","category-magazine","category-black-sheep-parent","category-society","category-voices","tag-books","tag-brianna-sharpe","tag-children","tag-nature","tag-opinion","tag-parenting"],"yoast_head":"\nBirds they will sing, dilly dilly,
Lambs they will play.
Keep you and I, dilly dilly,
Out of harm’s way.
I sing Mini Ewe her favourite lullaby, “Lavender Blue,” by the night-light’s warm glow. Her eyes get heavy, her breathing becomes rhythmic, and her head rests heavy on my shoulder. She’s finally asleep, and I ready myself to lay her in the crib. This should be a peaceful time — but all I can think about is what’s in her mattress.
\n\n\n\nAt 2 years old, she’s ready for me to start shopping for her “big kid bed.” Many parents would be scanning Pinterest for images of cute Montessori-style floor beds with fox-shaped pillows, and macrame wall hangings. Instead, I’m Googling “toxicity of polyurethane foam” and “neurological effects of flame retardants.” Modern parenting is intense.
\n\n\n\nThere are many fancy, organic mattresses for kids on the market, but our bank account is decidedly not fancy these days. So I need to know: Is dishing out the extra dough worth it?
\n\n\n\nNatural, organic bedding is absolutely worth it.
Heather Stapleton — environmental chemist, exposure scientist, and associate professor at Duke University — says yes: natural, organic bedding is absolutely worth it. She told me her own daughter sleeps on an organic cotton mattress. Considering Stapleton has spent the better part of her career researching how humans and ecosystems are affected by the flame retardants frequently used to reduce the flammability of household furnishings, that’s a pretty loud wake-up call for me.
\n\n\n\nI’d really like to experience these peaceful bedtime moments without panic — so I decided to get to the bottom of what our kids might be sleeping on.
\n\n\n\nBecause we don’t live in a felted yurt without electronics or conventional furniture, our home is already coated in flame retardants. And even if my flock did live in a woolly haven, we might end up ingesting them anyway; humans are primarily exposed to toxins through household dust, but it’s estimated that 20% of the flame retardants in our bodies come from our food. Considering some flame retardants have been linked to endocrine damage, infertility, neurological deficits, immune-system compromise, and cancer, I’m not resting easy thinking of these things in our lives — especially for the still-growing brains and bodies of my kids.
\n\n\n\nFlame retardants have been widely used since the 1970s, when many people smoked, few homes had smoke detectors, and highly combustible stuff like polyurethane was de rigueur in household furniture. But the science is telling us the cure may be worse than the disease — or rather, the cure is the cause of other diseases.
\n\n\n\nPolybrominated diphenyl ethers, or PBDEs, get a lot of air time (I made a chemistry pun about volatility!) for good reason — they’re highly bioaccumulative, and are possibly carcinogenic and neurotoxic as well. The law is rarely if ever in lock-step with research, but some advances have been made. Happily, use of PBDEs has been significantly restricted by the European Union and Canada in recent years. California has restricted flame retardants in the manufacture of juvenile sleep surfaces, and is joined by several other American states in doing so.
\n\n\n\nBeside PBDEs, there are hundreds of other potentially harmful flame retardants that hide in our products, from sofas to children’s sleepwear. Crib mattresses and car seats can be especially suspect. According to the experts I consulted, there is currently no legislation in North America requiring manufacturers to tell you if their products have been treated with flame retardants, or with which ones.
\n\n\n\n“Unfortunately, the only way to know for sure is to take a piece of that mattress and have it analyzed,” Stapleton says. Her lab offers this service to concerned parents and consumers, but these services don’t appear to be widespread across North America.
\n\n\n\nWhile flame retardants dominate the discussions of household toxins, looking at what mattresses are made of is also making me toss and turn. Stapleton says, “There hasn’t been a lot of information characterizing products that have these chemicals versus how much people are exposed to; it’s kind of a big black box.” For that reason, she emphasizes that what is “concerning” in mattresses is subjective, but still maintains that, beside flame retardants (her main concern), we should also be looking at things like polyurethane foam.
\n\n\n\nAnyone who’s ordered one of those trendy online mattresses knows “the smell” after unrolling them.
Anyone who’s ordered one of those trendy online mattresses like Endy or Leesa knows “the smell” after unrolling them. Foams like polyurethane and synthetic latexes off-gas through their life-cycle. While much of this occurs when new, they may emit volatile organic compounds (VOCs) for years after purchase. These can wreak havoc on human health, especially when those humans are tiny: formaldehyde, for example, has been linked to respiratory issues and cancer.
\n\n\n\nStapleton says that if you do buy these products, airing them outside for a week will facilitate some off-gassing. But even then, the long-term effects of VOCs on health have still not been definitively studied. (Chem 101: flame retardants will not off-gas in this way, as they are only semi-volatile.)
\n\n\n\nThe debate around mattresses often homes in on their human impacts, but of course, we’re part of an ecosystem — what goes inside ends up outside. This is a primary concern for environmental chemist Miriam Diamond, professor in the Department of Earth Sciences at the University of Toronto. “The tendency over the past decades has become focused on humans,” she says, referencing the debate over flame retardants, “but it is not all about us. We live in an environment — one that needs to be kept clean and vibrant.”
\n\n\n\nA 2017 report published by the Green Science Policy Institute at UC Berkeley states: “Research has shown that the adverse environmental and health impacts of flame retardants used to meet flammability regulations can outweigh potential fire safety benefits.” Flame retardants can accumulate not only in our bodies, but in our water systems, soil, fish, and wildlife, often far from the places they’re produced or used.
\n\n\n\nIt is not all about us. We live in an environment — one that needs to be kept clean and vibrant.
It’s difficult to summarize the environmental effects of such a large category of chemical, but flame retardants have been linked to such diverse harms as the toxification of waterways and the deteriorating health of polar bears. And of course, all the human effects of flame retardants I’ve mentioned above would also be seen in wildlife.
\n\n\n\nCanada has placed restrictions on PBDEs on account of their environmental toxicity, though there are so many other flame retardants, such as TDCPP (also known as Tris), that could meet the same criteria. Foams and vinyls are often derived from petrochemicals (unless it’s specifically stated that they are bio-sourced), so that adds an additional complex environmental aspect.
\n\n\n\nDiamond maintains these conversations must be framed by equity as well: “Some people on low incomes don’t have a choice for what to buy. Items such as an infant mattress could be passed down between generations. As a Canadian, I want to know that every Canadian is being protected, not just the ones who can afford it.” And, she noted, we also need to protect those who are downstream (sometimes literally) of our manufacturing plants and urban centres, especially as they are not the ones producing the toxins they live with.
\n\n\n\nBecause I still don’t live in a yurt, I called Christian Schmidt, owner of Calgary’s Black Sheep Mattress Company — no relation, but obviously they’re my people! Black Sheep makes their products with organic cotton, natural latex, and wool. They don’t have to treat with chemicals to meet Canadian flammability standards, as wool is naturally flame-resistant.
\n\n\n\nWhen asked why they’ve chosen these materials, Schmidt says, “What always resonates with me is the precautionary principle. If we don’t think we need some new chemical or material, then why are we using it? Can we do without it? Especially if we don’t know the long-term effects.”
\n\n\n\nBlack Sheep ships across Canada, but if you’re located elsewhere, a quick Google will turn up dozens of beds that look like they were made out of organic clouds by vegan angels. If you’re wanting to play it super-green, stick to materials like natural latex, cotton, and wool (at least if you’re not one of the vegan angels). You can look for certifications like GOTS (Global Organic Textile Standard) and GOLS (Latex) which regulate their respective components. There’s also the Oeko-Tex Standard 100 and Greenguard, both of which monitor levels of VOCs, though are still limited in scope.
\n\n\n\nA quick Google will turn up dozens of beds that look like they were made out of organic clouds by vegan angels.
While certifications are a step in the right direction, they are still far from offering a green guarantee, and can be inaccessible to smaller businesses. Schmidt, for example, has looked into the organic textile and latex certifications for his line — as he’s fairly certain they’d meet the standards — but cost and time are limiting factors.
\n\n\n\nA box-store option is IKEA’s Mausund line, which is made with natural and synthetic latex, organic cotton, rayon, and wool. Kristin Newbigging, the Public Relations Manager for IKEA Canada, was quite open with me when I asked annoying questions. She confirmed the line is indeed flame-retardant-free, with many textiles made from sustainable sources, and 50% from renewable sources. Duke professor Stapleton says the corporation has been responsive to health and environmental concerns, potentially because their headquarters are in Europe. A twin Mausund will run you $699 CAD, but a Black Sheep twin is just $70 more (and without synthetics!).
\n\n\n\nIt’s great that there are options — but I’m feeling pretty weary, to be honest. Because this isn’t just about the “best mattress.” It’s about environmental devastation and our desire to protect our children from the world we’ve created — it’s about eco-anxiety. I’m definitely starting a buy-Mini-Ewe-a-non-death-soaked-mattress savings plan, but I recognize that another part of my weariness is lamenting that access to toxin-free products shouldn’t be based on how much money you have.
\n\n\n\nEven after all her years of researching some of the most environmentally harmful chemicals out there, Miriam Diamond says something that brings me back to the present moment. Yes, I’ll scrimp and save to buy a natural mattress, but thanks to Diamond, I’m also remembering that “the most important thing we can do for our kids is love them.”
\n\n\n\nThe night-light’s glow suddenly seems a bit warmer, and I decide to sit for a while with Mini Ewe in my arms before laying her down.
\n\n\n\nLavender’s green, dilly dilly,
Lavender’s blue.
Yes you love me, dilly dilly,
And I love you.
As if New Year’s Eve didn’t come with enough pressure to make it awesome, it’s also my wedding anniversary. Over our five years of marriage, Eric and I have said goodbye to two dogs and hello to two kids, bought a house, shared countless cups of lukewarm coffee, and picked one another up (figuratively and literally) more times than we thought possible. It’s easy to forget how much we mean to one another—we often feel like two ships passing in a long, sleepless night. So, each anniversary, we read out our vows again, and we each tell the other how utterly loveable they are.
\n\n\n\nBut Eric isn’t the only one I need to reconnect with this year—and while it’s generally frowned upon to write love letters to someone other than one’s spouse, I think mine will forgive me in this case. In my first Black Sheep Parenting column, I wrote that “We need our kids to see that we’re in a lifelong romance with the planet,” and described our small acts of sustainability as “love notes”:
\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nThey don’t replace the big work, but neither can we do without them. They’re the daily reminders of how precious this relationship is.
\n
In honour of the new year, I’ve compiled 19 actual love notes to the Earth. Yes, it’s super cheesy, and no, I super don’t care. Most of these notes are from me, 4-year-old Little Grey Lamb, 2-year-old Mini Ewe (mainly moral and crayon support), and Eric. I also got some help from other families who want to shower our planet with love. Between us, we’ve made a list of 19 vows to the Earth—but instead of a bouquet, there’s a compost bucket.
\n\n\n\nI don’t want sustainable living and environmental advocacy to feel like just another onerous “should” for parents who are already working so hard. And I want to protect my kids from eco-anxiety for as long as possible, and wrap them instead them in love and hope, even if things are looking more desperate by the day. I hope that by starting with gratitude, and adding some realistic action items, this list of love notes can empower and inspire.
\n\n\n\n#1 Dear Earth,
Your symphonies bring me to my knees. The sound of the wind blowing through branches, between blades of grass, and over rocks and roots makes me want to dance and stand in perfect stillness, all at once.
#2 Dear Earth,
You make the biggest magic. Climbing trees, skiing through forests, dipping our paddles into rivers, plunging our hands into garden dirt: these things cast little spells on us — they help us fall more in love with ourselves and this world.
#3
\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/09/Letters-featured-1.jpg\")
\n#4 Dear Earth,
Quietly, and with open arms, you support us — flaws and all. But your boundaries are firm: you make us aware when we’ve gone too far. I want to learn from your fierceness, defending myself when I feel overrun. But I also want to be kinder, and more respectful of your boundaries.
#5
\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/09/LettersBody1.jpeg\")
#6 Dear Earth,
I’m sorry we often have to make choices that aren’t the most Earth-friendly. For each decision this year, I want to ask myself if acting more responsibly is actually not possible or just not a priority? For example, I know eating far less meat and animal products will help us manage the methane in our atmosphere and protect our forests. Full-on vegetarianism or veganism isn’t a possibility for my family right now; on the other hand, while making most of our meals animal-free is inconvenient (meat and potatoes is absurdly easy), it is certainly possible, so that’s our plan for the year.
#7
\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/09/Lettersbody2.jpg\")
#8 Dear Earth,
What a gift it is to have a mini-acreage on which to safely raise our flock… um, family. (Unfortunately, we’re not zoned for actual livestock.) This summer, we want to build another garden box, and specifically plant veggies for canning, so we have local eats over the colder months.
#9 Dear Earth,
We’ll also set up a laundry line system so our clothes can smell like garden, not dryer (and so I can feel like Anne of Green Gables as I pin them up). These are teeny steps toward our vision of lower carbon living.
#10 Dear Earth,
I’ve probably spent over 200 nights sleeping on your surface, between pines, next to lakes, and in the snow. Thank you for holding me while I dreamt (and never electrocuting me in any of those countless thunderstorms), and teaching me about adventure and myself. We’ll continue to support provincial and national parks and teach our kids Leave No Trace ethics.
#11 & #12
\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/09/Lettersbody5.jpg\")
![\"\"](\"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/09/Lettersbody6.jpg\")
#13 Dear Earth,
I’m sorry we don’t have more money. Raising a family on a limited budget has challenged my eco-principles. I wish we could install solar panels and redesign our house for passive heating, but that would require a lottery win (or a book deal). I’d love to take more action on environmental justice, but my days are stretched beyond reason already. I do, however, have the ability to live more modestly, to resist the siren song of more-more-more, and to hopefully instill that same resistance in my kids.
I wish we could install solar panels and redesign our house for passive heating, but that would require a lottery win.
#14 Dear Earth,
While taking on more activism will have to wait, I want to initiate more conversations with local activists, academics, and politicians, to bring the big issues home in a more real way. While crises like the one currently unfolding in the Wet’suwet’en nation of northern BC may seem geographically distant, they cut to the quick of who we are as humans and our relationship to land.
#15 Dear Earth,
Thank you for the elements that sustain us. My family is crazy-lucky to have access to clean, drinkable, pathogen-free drinking water. Along with our friends Alexa, John, Sam, and Emily, we want to show our gratitude by avoiding single-use plastics, and reducing the plastic in our lives overall. This isn’t just a trend, and it doesn’t end at drinking straws. While these products are oh-so-convenient, their effects on our water (not to mention the soil, and even the air) are becoming increasingly inconvenient truths.
![\"\"](\"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/09/Lettersbody3.jpeg\")
#16 Dear Earth,
Although there is zero chance of my family going zero-waste before the kids are old enough to help me menu plan (instead of pathologically refusing every piece of food they loved the day before), I will continue to strive to refuse all the crap, reuse what I can’t, reduce what we need, and live with less stuff.
#17
\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/09/Lettersbody4.jpeg\")
#18 Dear Earth,
With a riot of roots for hair, eyes that shine with the brightness of lakes, and a spine made of mountain peaks: you make homes for the freest creatures, the softest birds, the slickest fish, and the most delicate of insects. You inspire my children to play like wild things, growing strong and robust, while they find their place in nature’s order.
#19
\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/09/Lettersbody7-1024x493.jpg\")
With more love than you know,
\n\n\n\nBri, Eric, Mini Ewe, Little Grey Lamb, Alexa, John, Emily, Sam, Koa, Michelle, Sydney, Amy, Joe, Kirby, Quinn, Kris, Izzy, Oliver, and Gisele
\n","protected":false},"featured_media":647,"template":"","meta":[],"categories":[11,14,21,20,8,10,6,43,22],"tags":[77,249,98,116,141,60,31,93],"class_list":["post-392","articles","type-articles","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-climate-change","category-food","category-home-garden","category-kids-parenting","category-living","category-magazine","category-planet","category-black-sheep-parent","category-voices","tag-animals","tag-brianna-sharpe","tag-ecology","tag-forests","tag-nature","tag-opinion","tag-plants","tag-zero-waste"],"yoast_head":"\nThe Black Sheep Parent and her flock decided to start 2019 off by writing love letters to Planet Earth.
\n"},"alt_text":"A love letter to Earth, in green crayon on thick paper, written by the author Brianna Sharpe’s child.","media_type":"image","mime_type":"image/jpeg","media_details":{"width":945,"height":756,"file":"2022/09/Letters-featured.jpg","filesize":"125269","sizes":{"medium":{"file":"Letters-featured-300x240.jpg","width":300,"height":240,"filesize":"13970","mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/09/Letters-featured-300x240.jpg"},"thumbnail":{"file":"Letters-featured-150x150.jpg","width":150,"height":150,"filesize":"6002","mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/09/Letters-featured-150x150.jpg"},"medium_large":{"file":"Letters-featured-768x614.jpg","width":768,"height":614,"filesize":"65965","mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/09/Letters-featured-768x614.jpg"},"full":{"file":"Letters-featured.jpg","width":945,"height":756,"mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/09/Letters-featured.jpg"}},"image_meta":{"aperture":"0","credit":"","camera":"","caption":"","created_timestamp":"0","copyright":"","focal_length":"0","iso":"0","shutter_speed":"0","title":"","orientation":"0"}},"source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/09/Letters-featured.jpg","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/media/647","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/media"}],"about":[{"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/types/attachment"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/users/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/comments?post=647"}]}}],"wp:term":[[{"id":11,"link":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/category/planet/climate-change/","name":"Climate Change","slug":"climate-change","taxonomy":"category","yoast_head":"\nImagine wearing an outfit with humongous pockets. Throughout the day, you pick up everything you want or think you might need. By the end of the day, although you’ve collected all sorts of fascinating things, you can’t find the one thing you’re looking for.
\n\n\n\nThis is how I’m starting to feel about December. In a fit of conspicuous consumption, we collect all the objects, treasures, and treats we can cram into our lives, but can’t seem to actually hold any of them in our hands.
\n\n\n\nIn my last column, I mentioned that having more than we need can make us lose track of what’s most important. I want to shake December upside down until all the junk falls out: the plastic crap, the holiday Starbucks cups, and the blow-up Santa lawn decorations. (I’m on the fence about ugly Christmas sweaters.)
\n\n\n\nMy kids are 18 months and 4 years old, so we’re still figuring out what we want the holidays to look like. Parenting has been a fascinating journey in this regard — there are so many habits and traditions I maintained unquestioned until considering whether I should pass them on to the kids (like lullabies about babies falling out of trees).
\n\n\n\nGifts of experiences, although not “traditional,” allow us to go heavy on the love, while treading lightly on the planet.
Thoughtful presents passed between loved ones are part of the joy of the holidays. Out of habit, we assume these have to be material items wrapped in glossy paper. Gifts of experiences, although not “traditional,” allow us to go heavy on the love, while treading lightly on the planet.
\n\n\n\nI love seeing my kids’ eyes light up on Christmas morning. But I don’t love that the holiday has become a sparkly, sugary version of everyday capitalism. As plastic makes its way from Walmart, into our ecosystems, and then into our bodies, I’m sure as hell going to try to keep it out of the holidays. But I also won’t berate myself if all my kid wants is a magnetic plastic rescue vehicle set (which is sadly true). As Stephen Buranyi recently wrote in The Guardian,
\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nTo take on plastic is in some way to take on consumerism itself. It requires us to recognise just how radically our way of life has reshaped the planet in the span of a single lifetime, and ask whether it is too much.
\n
Madeleine Somerville, author of All You Need is Less, is another parent determined to make the holidays more than a planet-trashing fiesta. Somerville, whose daughter Olive is 6, told me that during the holidays, our kids need to hear that “‘This is magic, and you are loved’. Does this come from one gift or 16?” She continues, “More stuff doesn’t make you happy… This is a lesson that Olive is learning, but it’s also an awareness most adults don’t have.”
\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/New-Years-Day-backyard-fire-with-neighbours-and-Hot-Chocolate-another-yearly-ritual-1-1024x768.jpg\")
Somerville also says it’s important to recognize the privilege in discussions of the so-called “experiential advantage”: the idea that experiences can make us happier than material items do. Research suggests that “the ‘experiential advantage’ is not universal — the less well-off get equal or more happiness from buying things.”
\n\n\n\nIf you’re interested in focusing more on non-material or experiential gifts this year, it could free up some time and energy for more smiling, snuggling, and simply enjoying the presence of your loved ones. Parents work hard enough at this time of year, so I came up with three questions to consider when deciding what experiences to give your loved ones.
\n\n\n\nIt’s been said the word “awesome” has been overused to the point of meaninglessness; we can address this linguistic tragedy by gifting experiences that are truly awesome. Researchers Dacher Keltner and Jonathan Haidt define awe as something that transforms us by inspiring huge emotions, and pushing our psychological boundaries; in doing so, it can lead to feelings of interconnectedness with others. A 2015 report published by the American Psychological Association confirmed that feeling awe can even reduce inflammation in the body.
\n\n\n\nFeeling awe can even reduce inflammation in the body.
Awe doesn’t require scaling mountains or going deep-sea diving. Watching the joy dance across my kids’ faces as we tromp through the woods on our annual Christmas tree hunt is all the awesome we need. That said, my dear friends at Kingmik Dog Sled Tours took my family out this weekend, and that was awe-inspiring as well. Some things to think about include:
\n\n\n\nTaking photos and videos, journalling, and storytelling as a family after the event can help us bottle the awe for later.
\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/mushing-1.jpeg\")
Melissa Leong, author of the upcoming book Happy Go Money (coming in January from ECW Press), knows the value of creating connection through sharing important things. According to the financial expert, “Experiences make us happier because experiences make us feel more connected to others, while material goods are usually enjoyed alone. You’ll also get more bang for your buck because experiences increase in value over time… you’ll get repeated joy every time you retell the story.” Research shows experience-based gifts get power from the fact that we we talk and share more about experiences than material items.
\n\n\n\nYou’d be a parent’s dream if you took the kids somewhere they might never dream of.
Sometimes what really makes those around us happiest is not what we expect. Little Grey Lamb’s biggest holiday wish is to play Lego all day. Lego is not my love language — because, plastic — but on Christmas afternoon, we will surround ourselves with tiny plastic bricks, because this is the experience he wants.
\n\n\n\nResearchers Paulina Pchelin and Ryan T. Howell point out that what makes us happy is not always rational — and pursuing the material items we think we should want might even keep us from happiness. It’s our hidden, inner world that determines our joy.
\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/holiday-infographic-1.png\")
December can be a time when “heartbreak and the holiday spirit co-exist,” to quote my friend Mahalia Freed. Environmental devastation and political turmoil don’t stop just because there’s tinsel on the trees; our personal sadnesses and traumas can feel heavier during this time. All this on top of the pressure parents feel to create the “perfect” holiday season for our families. But if we fill our pockets with awe, connection, and happiness, we might just be able to find the things that really matter.
\n","protected":false},"featured_media":322,"template":"","meta":[],"categories":[20,8,10,43,22],"tags":[249,612,327,60,613,93],"class_list":["post-350","articles","type-articles","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-kids-parenting","category-living","category-magazine","category-black-sheep-parent","category-voices","tag-brianna-sharpe","tag-camping","tag-holidays","tag-opinion","tag-winter","tag-zero-waste"],"yoast_head":"\nThe joy on my kids’ faces as we tromp through the woods on our annual Christmas tree hunt is all the awesome we need.
\n"},"alt_text":"A man stands facing away in a snowy forest clearing, holding a baby in a wool hat whose face peeks over the man’s shoulder.","media_type":"image","mime_type":"image/jpeg","media_details":{"width":1500,"height":1125,"file":"2022/08/Hunting-for-the-best-wild-tree-is-one-of-my-flocks-favourite-holiday-activities-1.jpg","filesize":"303686","sizes":{"medium":{"file":"Hunting-for-the-best-wild-tree-is-one-of-my-flocks-favourite-holiday-activities-1-300x225.jpg","width":300,"height":225,"filesize":"18554","mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/Hunting-for-the-best-wild-tree-is-one-of-my-flocks-favourite-holiday-activities-1-300x225.jpg"},"large":{"file":"Hunting-for-the-best-wild-tree-is-one-of-my-flocks-favourite-holiday-activities-1-1024x768.jpg","width":1024,"height":768,"filesize":"195490","mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/Hunting-for-the-best-wild-tree-is-one-of-my-flocks-favourite-holiday-activities-1-1024x768.jpg"},"thumbnail":{"file":"Hunting-for-the-best-wild-tree-is-one-of-my-flocks-favourite-holiday-activities-1-150x150.jpg","width":150,"height":150,"filesize":"7411","mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/Hunting-for-the-best-wild-tree-is-one-of-my-flocks-favourite-holiday-activities-1-150x150.jpg"},"medium_large":{"file":"Hunting-for-the-best-wild-tree-is-one-of-my-flocks-favourite-holiday-activities-1-768x576.jpg","width":768,"height":576,"filesize":"111734","mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/Hunting-for-the-best-wild-tree-is-one-of-my-flocks-favourite-holiday-activities-1-768x576.jpg"},"full":{"file":"Hunting-for-the-best-wild-tree-is-one-of-my-flocks-favourite-holiday-activities-1.jpg","width":1500,"height":1125,"mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/Hunting-for-the-best-wild-tree-is-one-of-my-flocks-favourite-holiday-activities-1.jpg"}},"image_meta":{"aperture":"0","credit":"","camera":"","caption":"","created_timestamp":"0","copyright":"","focal_length":"0","iso":"0","shutter_speed":"0","title":"","orientation":"0"}},"source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/Hunting-for-the-best-wild-tree-is-one-of-my-flocks-favourite-holiday-activities-1.jpg","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/media/322","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/media"}],"about":[{"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/types/attachment"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/users/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/comments?post=322"}]}}],"wp:term":[[{"id":20,"link":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/category/living/kids-parenting/","name":"Kids & Parenting","slug":"kids-parenting","taxonomy":"category","yoast_head":"\nFirst, a confession: I love, love, LOVE the December holiday season. The thought of walking through twinkly fairy lights, sharing old traditions, making new ones, smiling at strangers on the street, and basking in family time makes me want to do festive cartwheels in the snow.
\n\n\n\nSince becoming a full-time grown-up, however, I’m finding more and more to make me cringe during the holidays: looking at the bags of waste on Christmas morning, gorging on treats until our tummies hurt, unwrapping a gluttony of gifts, listening to my preschooler whine for “just one more” of something, anything. When the presents and meals are done, a weird feeling of emptiness creeps in, right when we should be feeling more full of love than ever before.
\n\n\n\nWhen we have more than we need, we can also lose track of the most important things: the ones we love, and the planet that supports us. Like many others, I’m still re-calibrating after the most recent IPCC report, so I’ll share a few facts that are decidedly not too merry:
\n\n\n\nWe still love magic, beauty, and tradition. So how do we keep all that without giving in to the constant craving of the holidays?
Mini Ewe and Little Grey are already going to be those kids who know well before the others (i.e. now) that Santa Claus is just a fun story, but I’m not the Grinch. We still love magic, beauty, and tradition. So how do we keep all that without giving in to the constant craving of the holidays?
\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/holiday-guide-infographic-1.jpeg\")
“Zero waste” is both a set of principles and a lifestyle that emphasizes producing as little landfill-bound waste as possible. But this doesn’t mean just diverting stuff to recycling; as the Zero Waste hierarchy indicates, recycling is far from being the best option.
\n\n\n\nThis anti-materialistic philosophy prioritizes a mindset of “refusing”; this means saying no to any materials, packaging, or items that aren’t absolutely necessary. Bea Johnson — called the “Priestess of waste-free living” by the New York Times — doesn’t own a trash can, has a million uses for Mason jars, and makes her own stationery. Each of her family members can fit their entire wardrobe in a carry-on, and she tells guests to bring their garbage home with them if they happen to show up with a casserole covered in foil. This way of living might sound extreme, but so do those statistics I mentioned earlier.
\n\n\n\nThough we aren’t embracing a 100% zero-waste holiday, we’re still aiming for the following:
\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/holiday-dinner-1-1024x768.jpg\")
Sometimes zero-waste gurus seem to assume people have everything they need, and just need to refuse the “extras”; considering 4 million Canadians still experience food insecurity, and 1 in 8 Americans do, this is obviously far from the case. I’m so grateful that we’ve never had to choose between putting food on the table or a gift under the tree. But we’re a young family on a tight budget, and still acquiring the things to make our family run smoothly.
\n\n\n\nMini Ewe and Little Grey seem to genuinely need something new every two weeks, whether it’s socks for their ever-growing feet, or long johns for our ever-evolving adventures. We’re also still trying to curate our ideal toy collection based on some minimalistic principles, even though currently our living room looks more like the Island of Misfit Toys. Christmas is a time that we allow ourselves to collect some of these things.
\n\n\n\nSo this year, we’ll try out the “four gift Christmas” — hopefully this will help us find the right balance of gift-giving and shared holiday experiences. Eric and I will give Grey and Mini Ewe one gift from each of the following categories:
\n\n\n\nEric and I will each give each other one gift from within those categories. The grandparents get to choose two gifts from the categories for each grandkid. If these gifts are non-material, second-hand, sustainable, or hand-made, even better. (I know the grandmas and grandpas are reading this right now: Sorry/Thank you/We love you!). So although there will be some material items under the tree, we’re hoping for a holiday that allows us to focus more on our time together, not on stuff (or figuring out what to do with all the stuff).
\n\n\n\nMy flock is also going to be taking some time to up our experiential (i.e. not stuff) gift-giving game. I’m taking some time over the next couple of weeks to snoop around the internet and talk to people, as I figure out what makes the difference between a good experiential gift and an awesome one. So watch out, because I’ll be baaaaa-ck next month to tell you what I found (two sheep puns is enough for one article, yes?).
\n\n\n\nActivist and writer George Monbiot put it best in his excellent essay “The Gift of Death”:
\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nBake them a cake, write them a poem, give them a kiss, tell them a joke, but for god’s sake stop trashing the planet to tell someone you care. All it shows is that you don’t.
\n
Ultimately, each family will figure out its own “stuff-to-no-stuff” ratio, and it’s alright if the process of disentangling the holidays from consumerism takes a few years — it absolutely will for us. Meanwhile, we’ll remember that even a Mason jar can’t hold the most important things: love, time, gratitude, and joy.
\n","protected":false},"featured_media":314,"template":"","meta":[],"categories":[20,8,10,43,22],"tags":[249,327,60,120,94,93],"class_list":["post-351","articles","type-articles","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-kids-parenting","category-living","category-magazine","category-black-sheep-parent","category-voices","tag-brianna-sharpe","tag-holidays","tag-opinion","tag-parenting","tag-recycling","tag-zero-waste"],"yoast_head":"\nWhen we have more than we need, we can lose track of the most important things: the ones we love, and the planet that supports us.
\n"},"alt_text":"","media_type":"image","mime_type":"image/jpeg","media_details":{"width":1500,"height":1125,"file":"2022/08/blurry-baby-1.jpg","filesize":174220,"sizes":{"medium":{"file":"blurry-baby-1-300x225.jpg","width":300,"height":225,"filesize":15345,"mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/blurry-baby-1-300x225.jpg"},"large":{"file":"blurry-baby-1-1024x768.jpg","width":1024,"height":768,"filesize":90100,"mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/blurry-baby-1-1024x768.jpg"},"thumbnail":{"file":"blurry-baby-1-150x150.jpg","width":150,"height":150,"filesize":7099,"mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/blurry-baby-1-150x150.jpg"},"medium_large":{"file":"blurry-baby-1-768x576.jpg","width":768,"height":576,"filesize":57823,"mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/blurry-baby-1-768x576.jpg"},"full":{"file":"blurry-baby-1.jpg","width":1500,"height":1125,"mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/blurry-baby-1.jpg"}},"image_meta":{"aperture":"0","credit":"","camera":"","caption":"","created_timestamp":"0","copyright":"","focal_length":"0","iso":"0","shutter_speed":"0","title":"","orientation":"0","keywords":[]}},"source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/blurry-baby-1.jpg","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/media/314","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/media"}],"about":[{"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/types/attachment"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/users/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/comments?post=314"}]}}],"wp:term":[[{"id":20,"link":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/category/living/kids-parenting/","name":"Kids & Parenting","slug":"kids-parenting","taxonomy":"category","yoast_head":"\nLast week I took my kids to Calgary’s science centre. This was a survival parenting move, both because it’s easy entertainment for them, and because the weather was apocalyptic. The air was thick with smoke from the BC forest fires, rain was coming down in curtains, and the sun seemed to have only half-risen. The air quality index had been 10+ for days (it doesn’t get higher than 10+), and my kids were going batty after being cooped up so long. Apparently, everyone else’s kids were too — the science centre was alive with the sound of tiny feet and shrieking voices.
\n\n\n\nIt was also the point in the summer when parents were running out of programming for their kids, and counting down the days until school starts. Cue a barrage of articles about how to have the BEST school year EVER. And yes, this is also a back-to-school article, but I won’t pretend to offer a stress-free fall season, a waste-free lunch system, or a hassle-free homework method.
\n\n\n\nThis is the first September since 2013 that I’m not getting ready to welcome students to my own classroom. My kids aren’t quite school-age yet, so I’m feeling a bit left out of the frenzy. Three-and-a-half year-old Little Grey Lamb is starting a new year of forest preschool, and is excited for outdoor exploration, authentic risk, and getting as muddy as possible. Mini Ewe is 18 months, the age where we clap if she says anything that sounds like a word. But I haven’t stopped thinking about the school system, even though it’s not my job to navigate it right now.
\n\n\n\nThe fires, floods, and heat waves are creating a sense of urgency for many people, including myself. Social scientist Mayer Hillman said in a recent Guardian interview (bluntly titled “We’re Doomed”):
\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nSo many aspects of life depend on fossil fuels, except for music and love and education and happiness. These things, which hardly use fossil fuels, are what we must focus on.
\n
Education is still where I put so much hope, even though it’s far from perfect. As parents pack lunches, teachers plan lessons, and students sharpen pencils, here are some thoughts on getting ready for a new school year in a new climate reality.
\n\n\n\nAs a social studies teacher, I was fond of starting my school year by taking a look at what was happening at our doorstep. Alberta classrooms were filled with discussions about both the 2013 floods that led to 32 states of emergency, and the 2016 Fort McMurray fires that forced more than 88,000 people from their homes. I tried to allow students to dictate the depth of the discussion through project-based learning and critical thinking.
\n\n\n\nIf you get a chance to connect with your child’s teacher(s) at a Meet the Teacher night or similar, here are some conversation starters:
\n\n\n\nIn my circle of friends, the PlanetBox reigns supreme for school lunches. It’s for good reason — made of non-toxic stainless steel, they’re durable, kid-friendly, and darn cute. That said, their price keeps them the domain of the privileged, and they sometimes feel like an environmentalist version of keeping up with the Joneses.
\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/planetbox-1.jpeg\")
Bamboo utensils, organic backpacks, staple-free staplers: the message is that if we buy these items, planet salvation will come. This doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t buy a PlanetBox or a reasonably priced alternative, but we parents might also want to consider these three questions this September:
\n\n\n\nJust as we don’t need to buy Nike products to be fit, we don’t need to buy the latest lunch boxes to live sustainably.
Being a white Canadian of settler descent, it is important I acknowledge the complexity of this section. I cannot speak on behalf of Indigenous communities, nor do I intend to; I will only attempt to expose the spaces where discussion can take place, rather than to lead a discussion myself.
\n\n\n\nIn the preface to Whose Land is it Anyway? A Manual for Decolonization, Bev Sellars, former chief of the Xat’sull (Soda Creek) First Nation in BC, notes that:
\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nThe Indigenous people of this country knew and practised the intelligent way of living sustainably thousands of years before the newcomers arrived. Imagine how much healthier our environment would be if this way of living was respected instead of being viewed as a “pagan” practice.
\n
We can’t separate education about the land from Indigenous perspectives and efforts to protect it. To learn more about these ideas from Indigenous thinkers, please read the manual mentioned above, or check out Indigenous and Decolonizing Studies in Education. I’d like to offer the following questions that non-Indigenous parents can chat about with their kids and their kids’ teachers:
\n\n\n\nThe thought I’ll leave you with won’t be surprising if you read my last article: make sure to encourage and advocate for your child to spend as much time outdoors as possible while in school. Some of my most vivid memories as a student are of holding frogs, digging through soil, photographing marshlands over time, or climbing a rock wall. I worked as an outdoor educator through my 20s, and our written curriculum was sparse. The real learning was the immersion in the wilderness itself. Environmental educator David Sobel writes that the best way to create “environmentally aware, empowered students” is to support “children’s biological tendency to bond with the natural world.”
\n\n\n\nThe most powerful curriculum is unwritten: it is the role-modeling our children witness, it is the homage we pay to those that protect and nurture the land, and it is the love they feel for their own backyard and its creatures.
\n","protected":false},"featured_media":324,"template":"","meta":[],"categories":[20,8,10,6,39,43,22],"tags":[249,121,60,120,125,104],"class_list":["post-352","articles","type-articles","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-kids-parenting","category-living","category-magazine","category-planet","category-plastic-pollution","category-black-sheep-parent","category-voices","tag-brianna-sharpe","tag-children","tag-opinion","tag-parenting","tag-plastic","tag-pollution"],"yoast_head":"\nThe Black Sheep Parent shares some thoughts on getting ready for a new school year in a new climate reality.
\n"},"alt_text":"A small pile of colourful children's backpacks sit against a dark brown wood-panelled exterior wall.","media_type":"image","mime_type":"image/jpeg","media_details":{"width":1500,"height":1000,"file":"2022/08/kids-backpacks-1.jpg","filesize":"276757","sizes":{"medium":{"file":"kids-backpacks-1-300x200.jpg","width":300,"height":200,"filesize":"17502","mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/kids-backpacks-1-300x200.jpg"},"large":{"file":"kids-backpacks-1-1024x683.jpg","width":1024,"height":683,"filesize":"138289","mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/kids-backpacks-1-1024x683.jpg"},"thumbnail":{"file":"kids-backpacks-1-150x150.jpg","width":150,"height":150,"filesize":"7805","mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/kids-backpacks-1-150x150.jpg"},"medium_large":{"file":"kids-backpacks-1-768x512.jpg","width":768,"height":512,"filesize":"84825","mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/kids-backpacks-1-768x512.jpg"},"full":{"file":"kids-backpacks-1.jpg","width":1500,"height":1000,"mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/kids-backpacks-1.jpg"}},"image_meta":{"aperture":"0","credit":"","camera":"","caption":"","created_timestamp":"0","copyright":"","focal_length":"0","iso":"0","shutter_speed":"0","title":"","orientation":"0"}},"source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/kids-backpacks-1.jpg","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/media/324","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/media"}],"about":[{"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/types/attachment"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/users/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/comments?post=324"}]}}],"wp:term":[[{"id":20,"link":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/category/living/kids-parenting/","name":"Kids & Parenting","slug":"kids-parenting","taxonomy":"category","yoast_head":"\nAs parents, we often feel vicarious joy when our kids do something we’re proud of. Common points of pride for preschoolers include drawing stick figures, tracing letters, and counting to 20. My husband and I are pretty stoked on 3-and-a-half year-old Little Grey Lamb’s fledgling BMX career. What truly makes us happy, though, is how comfortable he is in nature. Yesterday we were at a wetland by our house, and saw a creature taking a dip. “Look, Grey, a marten,” I yelled, mixing up my “m” mammals. “No, Mama — that’s a muskrat.” Beaming, I agreed.
\n\n\n\nI’m not reinforcing ecological literacy for the sake of rote-learning or for bragging rights; most folks don’t care that my child knows four different species of gull. When our kids feel at home with wild places, they become more resilient, more compassionate, and more committed to protecting the Earth that is their home.
\n\n\n\nAnd I should be clear: when I use the word “wild,” I’m not referring to the rare pristine places that remain untouched by humans, but rather what author Emma Marris calls the “rambunctious garden.” These are spaces that humans have influence over, and can range from weedy urban back alleys, to old fields, to woodlands, that all still unquestionably cast nature’s spell.
\n\n\n\nWe’ve chosen to raise our family on a small rural property surrounded by rambunctious nature — but it’s not for everyone. We’re on an annoyingly low-flow well and a septic system, most of our community is far away, the internet is dodgy, and our actual house is a glorified 950-square-foot cabin. But it’s quiet enough to hear the stars twinkling, we can see the mountains from our window (if we stand on a chair), and we can cross-country ski right from our doorstep. Although we’re only 10 minutes from town, our 3/4 acre feels like another world.
\n\n\n\nMy husband Eric and I are always discussing whether living rurally is worth it, from a sustainability perspective. We can work toward our goal of living largely off-grid by adding renewable energy sources, growing more of our own food, and biking to work whenever possible. But with two young kids, the volatile Alberta weather, and imperfect public transit, cars are still central to our life. Could anything we do offset this?
\n\n\n\nOur kids are learning to take their place between the pinecones and the pelicans.
There’s a good argument to be made about the value of living close to nature — but it’s not something I can quantify and measure against carbon emissions or natural-gas usage. It’s subtle. It’s my kids’ ability to walk steadily on uneven earth, navigating rocks and wet soil. It’s their look of wonder as they watch a heron glide over our heads. It’s the stories we tell about this place and its wild things. It’s Mini Ewe’s ability to sit by the shoreline and watch a mama goose leading her babies. It’s the fact that Little Grey can tell a marten from a muskrat.
\n\n\n\nOur kids are learning to take their place between the pinecones and the pelicans; we’re hopeful this proximity to nature will instill in them such a fierce love of the Earth that it’s part of their identity, and that they’ll become warriors when it’s threatened. We hope they’ll know how to grow a year’s worth of food, paddle a canoe to safety, and read the weather.
\n\n\n\nThese skills and this love will be needed as the planet changes. According to James Watson, director of science at the Wildlife Conservation Society, only 20% of the Earth is currently classed as wilderness — and if we continue on our current path, there may be no wilderness left in 50 years.
\n\n\n\nLiving on our mini-acreage allows us to parent in a way that shields our kids from this fate — for now. They wander, wonder, explore, create. But you don’t need to live surrounded by fields or woodlands to instill a sense of magic and wilderness-appreciation in your family. Here are some strategies that could work whether you live in a high-rise or a yurt:
\n\n\n\nIt’s worth asking ourselves what wilderness memories we’re creating, no matter where we live. In George Monbiot’s words, “without the power of memory, we cannot hope to defend the world we love.” Our children must fall in love with the world right at their doorstep, and they must never forget the wisdom, the wonder, and the value of the wild things.
\n\n\n\nMonbiot writes from a European perspective, watching as the British government makes a “farce” out of its national park system, and his fellow citizens — by forgetting — allow their ecosystems to crumble. My little flock will also see dramatic transformations in our local landscape in their lifetime.
\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/pinecones-landscape-1.jpeg\")
Already the land around our house is an example of the kind of “gift” Monbiot sees being granted to powerful interest groups. Our local lake, while never exactly pristine, was its own functional ecosystem. Not long ago, after an insufficient environmental review, rights were granted to build a subdevelopment around one side of it. With no natural outflow other than the groundwater table, the lake rose, flooding both basements of low lying homes, and the delicate shoreline. The only option the county now has is to run pumps 24/7. Remarkably, the lake is now home to several new species of waterfowl. Its health is returning, but only so long as the pump runs.
\n\n\n\nWild places are all around us: lakes, the weeds in the back alley, community gardens, your local crow roost. As I pointed out in my last column, I don’t think we should shield our kids from hard environmental truths. But nor should we let facts overtake their sense of belonging and awe. Monbiot says, “Remembering is a radical act.” With some creativity and commitment, our kids should be able to identify a starling or columbine blossom more readily than they can Paw Patrol or Pepsi. How radical would that be?!
\n\n\n\nOur kids should be able to identify a starling or columbine blossom more readily than they can Paw Patrol or Pepsi.
Regardless of whether your home is urban or rural, you can create what naturalist and educator Jon Young calls a “sit spot”: an area that allows for connection with nature. You return, day after day, rooting yourself to the spot, observing, and allowing yourself to become part of its rhythms.
\n\n\n\nThat said, the idea of “sitting” with a toddler and a preschooler is kind of a joke, so ours is called a “shore explore.” We’ve chosen a bit of shoreline 10 minutes from our house (or two hours if Little Grey is in a special mood). There are nesting boxes for geese, minnows in the littoral zone, waterfowl floating just beyond our reach. We can see deer, coyote, and moose tracks easily. We watch the seasons change and the animals grow and move.
\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/ewe_and_grey_shore_explore_in_PJs-1-300x225.jpg\")
In Young’s book, Coyote’s Guide to Connecting with Nature, he writes: “I spent a lot of time sitting at the one special spot and it seemed the animals accepted me as a natural part of that place. Going there felt like going home.” This is what I want my kids to feel — that nature is their home, and that they are so much a part of it that they would defend it as they would any other part of their community.
\n\n\n\nThe sit spot also encourages a different relationship with the land. Storyteller Martin Shaw notes that the “difference between being from a place and of a place is your capacity to behold it.” The sit spot allows us to behold, be beholden to, and be held by, the land.
\n\n\n\nYour backyard may be better than the boreal forest an hour away.
If you’d like to try this out, here are some thoughts, inspired by an FAQ from Young’s Wilderness Awareness School:
\n\n\n\nI’ll conclude with the ideas of Rambunctious Garden’s Emma Marris:
\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nWe cling to fragments of… the ever-rarer “intact ecosystems,” but they slip through our fingers. Like slivers of soap, they shrink and disappear. And we mourn. We are always mourning, because we can’t make more of such places.
\n
As a parent, I feel this daily; but through the mourning, I know there is magic. Even better, I know my kids already feel the spell of the wild places, regardless of where they are found.
\n","protected":false},"featured_media":320,"template":"","meta":[],"categories":[20,8,10,43,22],"tags":[249,121,116,141,60],"class_list":["post-353","articles","type-articles","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-kids-parenting","category-living","category-magazine","category-black-sheep-parent","category-voices","tag-brianna-sharpe","tag-children","tag-forests","tag-nature","tag-opinion"],"yoast_head":"\nMy mother looked around my kitchen, at the matzo ball soup simmering on the stove and the social justice Haggadahs at every place setting. Over them stood Bubbe’s silver candlesticks, the only things she brought from Poland when fleeing pogroms in the 1910s.
\n\n\n\n“Grandpa would be so proud that you’re carrying on the traditions,” Mom said. Though I was sweaty, tired, and nervous about the seder, her comment made it all worth it.
\n\n\n\nI’ve become the default host for Jewish holidays in my family. At some point in my 20s, I realized that if I didn’t do them, no one else would. I remember thinking — as I attempted to make my first round challah — that I needed to be able to host these gatherings for my future children.
\n\n\n\nFuture children. The thought of them is why — when my mother made the comment about my grandfather — my satisfaction was tinged with sadness and worry.
\n\n\n\nThis year, I’ve begun to question if I can have children.
\n\n\n\nI don’t mean “can” in the biological sense, but in the ethical sense. I don’t know if I can have children in a world rapidly approaching unlivable temperatures, rising seas, and mass extinctions.
\n\n\n\nIn 2009, I, like many others, was shaken by a statistic from an Oregon State University study. It found that every American child adds 9,441 metric tons of carbon dioxide to their mother’s carbon footprint, multiplying her lifetime emissions 5.7 times. In response to the study came the now oft-repeated refrain: having a child is the worst thing you can do for the climate.
\n\n\n\nSuddenly, my recycling obsession and vegetarian diet seemed feeble. If an American drives less, drives a hybrid, recycles, and uses energy-efficient light bulbs, appliances, and windows, they save only a paltry 488 metric tons of carbon dioxide over 80 years. How could I so consciously make things worse in such a big way?
\n\n\n\nThese questions are gaining traction with young people. Travis Rieder — a philosopher with the Berman Institute of Bioethics at Johns Hopkins University, and author of Toward a Small Family Ethic — discusses these dilemmas in classrooms and forums throughout the US, and has found young audiences open to considering the issue.
\n\n\n\nNo statistic, philosophical argument, or world event should make the decision about having children for you. But sometimes, I wish they would.
Rieder suggests that one way to protect the earth’s children may be to have fewer of them. Rieder tells me that after years of consideration, he developed the view that “most of us can justify having a biological child if it’s incredibly important to us to do so… but that doesn’t mean that we’re justified in having any number of children. In fact, I think for a lot of us, having more than a single biological child is difficult to justify.”
\n\n\n\nHe and his partner grappled with the question for years before deciding to have one child. If they want more, they’ll adopt them. When it comes to having children, reasonable voices seem to agree that it is, at its core, a personal decision: that no statistic, philosophical argument, or world event should fully make it for you. But sometimes, I wish they would.
\n\n\n\nActivists Josephine Ferorelli and Meghan Kallman explicitly reject this framing, opting instead for one of reproductive justice. They advocate against climate guilt, and against treating procreation as a political act.
\n\n\n\n“We’ve been trained to bear the burden of climate responsibility on our shoulders by torturing our behavior, instead of pointing at the actual villains in the scenario,” Forerelli says. “Who are the major actors? It’s not you and your baby or future child. It’s the fossil fuel industry and other industries that are benefitting from selling our future.” Government policies supporting these industries also bear the guilt.
\n\n\n\nThe scary statistics are problematic, they say, because they assume nothing will change. “The only reason having a kid is so climate intensive is because no one’s challenged the system that makes it so,” Ferorelli says. “There is a lot of work to be done that will allow a child in America to be less carbon-intensive, and that’s activism. Having or not having a child is not activism; challenging the system that makes that situation harmful is activism.”
\n\n\n\nIn 2014, Ferorelli and Kallman founded Conceivable Future, an organization that offers concerned parents or potential parents a place to explore their worries and decisions without judgment, by helping them organize informal house parties. Kallman and Ferorelli, who can call in to parties if the organizers wish, provide loose party instructions, such as sharing relevant climate information and recording testimonies of climate justice concerns from attendants. If the speakers wish, their testimonies can be published on the group’s website. Parties feature free-flowing discussion, but participants are counselled not to judge or suggest there is one right answer.
\n\n\n\nHaving or not having a child is not activism; challenging the system that makes that situation harmful is activism.
“We’re not in the business of making an ethical determination,” says Ferorelli. “We are in the business of surfacing the pain and the quandary about this, in a way that people find politically and personally productive.”
\n\n\n\nSince its founding, Conceivable Future’s understanding of reproductive justice has broadened. They now focus more on the intersection of climate and reproductive justice with other social movements, including Black Lives Matter, Indigenous rights, labor, and gender equality. “Early in our organizing we were approaching this with a very white perspective,” Kallman explains. “We were shocked and appalled in the way that state-sponsored violence has been endangering our children. But people of color have known this for years and years and years.”
\n\n\n\nClimate and reproductive justice concerns cannot be divorced from other societal concerns, says Kallman. “One thing that comes up at our house parties a lot is questions around women’s labor. And it sounds separate from climate change but it’s not.”
\n\n\n\nProblems like unequal household distribution of labor, the mommy tax, the gender pay gap, lack of universal paid parental leave, and society’s unrealistic expectations of both working and stay-at-home mothers all take a toll on a mother’s ability to participate fully in political and environmental spheres (not to mention all other spheres). Those capitalist structures that punish people for having children are the same ones that are destroying our planet, Kallman believes.
\n\n\n\nUndecided about having children herself, Kallman wonders if she would feel more confident, if we had “more expansive and supportive social systems that helped women be fuller expressions of themselves.” I consider this question for myself, and answer with a resounding yes.
\n\n\n\nIt’s easy to daydream about the joy a child would bring. The immense, all-encompassing love that could be unleashed. Part of me wants, desperately, to feel that.
\n\n\n\nBut while wanting kids is part of the decision, it’s not the only factor to consider. Even if I focused my entire life on fighting the policies that have enabled climate change, my kids will still suffer because of it, and watch others suffer. I imagine them scavenging, starving, afraid of the world and its drought-stricken wastes. Afraid of their fellow humans. Having learned about elephants the way I learned about dinosaurs: too magnificent to fully be believed.
\n\n\n\nMy children would be wanted and loved. But is that the only thing I owe them? Do we owe our kids safety, security, food, clothes, and shelter? To unequivocally say yes smacks of classism, colonialism, and possible promotion of eugenics. “You have to believe in individual sovereignty to make any kind of meaningful alliance with people who have a history of oppression,” emphasizes Ferorelli.
\n\n\n\nI imagine them scavenging, starving, having learned about elephants the way I learned about dinosaurs: too magnificent to fully be believed.
For the next few decades at least, my partner and I will likely be able to provide food, clothes, shelter, and at least relative safety and security. In fact, my kids — American kids — will use much more than their fair share of those resources. Which is why the other question must be: what do we owe others’ kids?
\n\n\n\nI believe we owe them a world worth living in. Kallman and Ferorelli see a way to follow individual reproductive desires and still improve the world through activism. But I worry that — especially in a society with policies so hostile toward families — parenthood could significantly reduce my energy for activism.
\n\n\n\nPerhaps my kid would grow up to be an activist themself. That wish is problematic, says Rieder, the philosopher. “I worry about creating children for any of one’s own ends… People aren’t tools; we shouldn’t create them for someone else’s projects.” Is loving them a project? Wanting to give them a good life, to teach them about the joys of the world?
\n\n\n\nThere are so many things I want to share with my children. Favorite books. The theater. Standing in the surf, watching ocean water retreat with the tide, washing over toes sinking into wet black sand.
\n\n\n\nConceivable Future parties have revealed profound alienation and isolation, says Kallman. Participants worry about how they can contribute their gifts and share their knowledge if they don’t have children.
\n\n\n\nI dream of taking my kids to Japan where I lived for years, to Eastern Europe where their great-grandparents’ shtetls once stood, to Lebanon where Ryan’s father grew up. I want to show them Petra and the pyramids of Egypt, the two greatest human creations I’ve seen in my life. But the Middle East could be uninhabitable by 2050. I imagine a mother in Egypt wondering what she owes her children. Though her situation is much more dire, this anxiety grips would-be parents across the globe, and I feel kinship with this imagined woman.
\n\n\n\nWould I be able to honestly talk with my kids about humanity’s incredible capacity for creating beautiful things? How could I, when every moment we would be experiencing firsthand how we destroyed — and then refused large-scale attempts to save — the most beautiful thing imaginable: the natural world?
\n\n\n\nDoes love alone make life worth living, make the world worth living in?
Do we owe our kids moments of calm, and experiences in nature they can enjoy? The chance to swim in the ocean without worrying it will drown them? The chance to explore forest instead of deforested wasteland?
\n\n\n\nOr, is the fact that they will have love, for a time at least, from me and Ryan and our families, from the friends they will make and lovers they may have, enough? Does love alone make life worth living, make the world worth living in?
\n\n\n\nRieder wants his daughter, who will be relatively protected from climate change in the near future, to know that her privilege is not fair. “As other nations need our help to adapt, or as climate migrants need access to new, safe homes, it is my greatest hope that she will put her privilege on the line to advocate for those in need,” he says.
\n\n\n\nThat wish strikes me as an extension of the idea that love might make life worthwhile. Our child might turn the love we give them into more love, and its requisite action, toward others.
\n\n\n\nI lie awake on the hot nights that are our new normal, that are only going to get hotter. Ryan and I continue to circle this issue. I’m beginning to believe that having children is a fundamentally selfish decision. But isn’t almost everything that we do? Weeks go by and we find no answers. We have set a deadline for the fall, and I have no idea what we will decide.
\n\n\n\nI consider my future child’s face. Would it have Ryan’s sea green eyes and olive skin? My small hands and flat feet? I can imagine their baby smell, their wild kid’s cackle at some bad pun I’ve made. Talking to them when they’re an awkward-limbed teenager, finally old enough to appreciate The Argonauts or The Clash; the excitement on their face as they understand something incredible humans have made.
\n\n\n\nAnd, inevitably, the discussions about something horrible humans have made. And what, if we’re lucky, will come after.
\n","protected":false},"featured_media":975,"template":"","meta":[],"categories":[11,20,8,6],"tags":[121,154,145,261],"class_list":["post-555","articles","type-articles","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-climate-change","category-kids-parenting","category-living","category-planet","tag-children","tag-climate-change","tag-family","tag-jessie-szalay"],"yoast_head":"\nThis year, I’ve begun to question if I can have children, not in the biological sense, but ethically.
\n"},"alt_text":"A newborn baby lies in a hospital crib. The baby has a plastic snap-button fastened anklet on their left leg.","media_type":"image","mime_type":"image/jpeg","media_details":{"width":1500,"height":1000,"file":"2022/09/Does-Climate-Change-Mean-I-Cant-Have-Kids_WebHeader.jpg","filesize":"87407","sizes":{"medium":{"file":"Does-Climate-Change-Mean-I-Cant-Have-Kids_WebHeader-300x200.jpg","width":300,"height":200,"filesize":"8399","mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/09/Does-Climate-Change-Mean-I-Cant-Have-Kids_WebHeader-300x200.jpg"},"large":{"file":"Does-Climate-Change-Mean-I-Cant-Have-Kids_WebHeader-1024x683.jpg","width":1024,"height":683,"filesize":"46665","mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/09/Does-Climate-Change-Mean-I-Cant-Have-Kids_WebHeader-1024x683.jpg"},"thumbnail":{"file":"Does-Climate-Change-Mean-I-Cant-Have-Kids_WebHeader-150x150.jpg","width":150,"height":150,"filesize":"4016","mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/09/Does-Climate-Change-Mean-I-Cant-Have-Kids_WebHeader-150x150.jpg"},"medium_large":{"file":"Does-Climate-Change-Mean-I-Cant-Have-Kids_WebHeader-768x512.jpg","width":768,"height":512,"filesize":"30260","mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/09/Does-Climate-Change-Mean-I-Cant-Have-Kids_WebHeader-768x512.jpg"},"full":{"file":"Does-Climate-Change-Mean-I-Cant-Have-Kids_WebHeader.jpg","width":1500,"height":1000,"mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/09/Does-Climate-Change-Mean-I-Cant-Have-Kids_WebHeader.jpg"}},"image_meta":{"aperture":"0","credit":"","camera":"","caption":"","created_timestamp":"0","copyright":"","focal_length":"0","iso":"0","shutter_speed":"0","title":"","orientation":"0"}},"source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/09/Does-Climate-Change-Mean-I-Cant-Have-Kids_WebHeader.jpg","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/media/975","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/media"}],"about":[{"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/types/attachment"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/users/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/comments?post=975"}]}}],"wp:term":[[{"id":11,"link":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/category/planet/climate-change/","name":"Climate Change","slug":"climate-change","taxonomy":"category","yoast_head":"\nI’d really rather not write this column. I just put my 16-month-old daughter down for a nap, and ninja-stealthed out of her room to click away at this keyboard. But I’d rather be back there cuddling. I’d also rather hide my head in the sand, and go about my days as if nothing was wrong. But…
\n\n\n\nIT’S. ALL. WRONG.
\n\n\n\nAlright, maybe that’s a bit of a pessimistic opener, but I’m finding it hard to resist the doom and gloom lately. As I write, immigrant children sit in cages the US, with no idea if they’ll ever see their families again. One football field’s worth of forest was lost every second last year (let that sink in). Politicians waste time debating the exact degree humans contribute to climate change, while scientists calculate the number of years we have left before Earth can no longer sustain life.
\n\n\n\nWhen I say I’d rather not write this column, I should also say I really am excited about sharing my thoughts with a broader audience. I’m stoked to introduce you to my kids — Mini Ewe (the 16-month-old) and Little Grey Lamb (3 and a half) — and my husband, Eric. (At 33, he no longer gets a cute pseudonym, though I think it would be funny to call him Old Ram.) But writing this column also means I have to look the tough stuff in the face every damn day.
\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/flock-outside-1-1024x768.jpg\")
So much is wrong, but it doesn’t have to swallow us whole. And in fact, it can’t. As the future draws closer, my family needs me to walk with them into the bleakness, and help them find their capacity to deal with it. Some days, I feel suffocated by the cognitive dissonance involved in preparing Mini Ewe and Little Grey for a disheartening future I wish I didn’t have to think about.
\n\n\n\nLiving consciously makes us aware of the contradictions our world is steeped in. In This Changes Everything, Naomi Klein writes:
\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nLiving with this kind of cognitive dissonance is simply part of being alive in this jarring moment in history, when a crisis we have been studiously ignoring is hitting us in the face — and yet we are doubling down on the stuff that is causing the crisis in the first place.
\n
But what if we used that power of cognitive dissonance for good, not evil? Instead of seeing danger and looking the other way, what if we saw the challenge, understood it would be tough to rise to, and resisted the urge to ignore it?
\n\n\n\nWhat if we used that power of cognitive dissonance for good, not evil?
Parenting prepares us pretty well for paradox. Nothing makes sense, and yet it has to, on a daily basis. My three-year-old son, Little Grey Lamb, routinely requests that I put his socks on without touching his feet. Mini Ewe likes to simultaneously breastfeed and perform a gymnastics routine (ouch!). My husband and I can spend all weekend together, but — amidst the chaos of pancakes, sippy cups, car rides, and bedtimes — still feel at the end like we haven’t connected at all.
\n\n\n\nWe all have similar dilemmas to reckon with, kids or no kids. So many of us are connected 24/7 by social media and the internet, yet loneliness is epidemic. Our environmental protest signs are compromised by the gas-powered vehicles we drive to rallies. These mind games can help prepare us for the paradoxes of our time: How do we focus on the big picture, but also keep our families happy and healthy?
\n\n\n\nLet’s not get forget the central paradox any sustainability-minded parent must wrestle with: we brought another human being onto an already crowded planet, and can only hope their positive contributions outweigh the negatives of overpopulation and overconsumption.
\n\n\n\nMy generation is watching our kids grow up into a future in which global warming-induced hyperthermia will be a leading cause of death, much of the planet will experience permanent drought, and our air will become unbreathable: all this potentially as soon as 2040. Our children may not have the luxury of debating whether they should bring babies into the world; it could just be too horrible to do so.
\n\n\n\nOur children may not have the luxury of debating whether they should bring babies into the world.
When these thoughts plunge me into grief, I find it helpful to heed the words of my somewhat secular saint of ecology, Joanna Macy (speaking on an episode of Podship: Earth):
\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nWe have to go through our grief for our world, because it holds a great treasure… Our grief for the world is just one side of the coin. And on the other side, is… love. You mourn what you love.
\n
Love brings our children into the world, and we must harness it to grow them into creatures capable of facing the future with all the courage of storybook heroes. To borrow another image from Macy:
\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nIn all great adventures there comes a time when the little band of heroes feels totally outnumbered and bleak, like Frodo in Lord of the Rings or Pilgrim in Pilgrim’s Progress. You learn to say “It looks bleak. Big deal, it looks bleak.”
\n
And so, I write. I’ve styled myself as the “Black Sheep Parent,” because my sustainable parenting choices are unlikely to win me any popularity contests. Over the last couple of sleep-deprived years, Eric and I have given ourselves a pass on some of the harder life choices we’d thought of making (Operation Replace the Grass with Food is still in the planning stages…). But the planet doesn’t care how many hours of sleep we got last night. So we need to focus on shepherding our little ones into the future with awareness, integrity, and compassion. Here are three of our strategies:
\n\n\n\nI put the idea of an infinitely resilient planet right beside Santa, the Easter Bunny, and the Tooth Fairy; to avoid disappointment and confusion, we are gently making our children aware that they’re myths. But they exist for a reason: children need magic. Mary Poppins knew where it was at with that spoonful of sugar — but it was sugar, not anaesthetic. Feeding our kids the myth that the “3 Rs” will guarantee a forever-green Earth does a disservice to them and the planet; they need to understand the fragility of our environment in order to work to preserve it.
\n\n\n\nEric and I aspire to tell these difficult truths without traumatizing. Little Grey knows oil won’t last forever and is hurting our Earth; when I talk to him, I don’t assume he’ll choose to have children. I try to be developmentally appropriate, so these discussions will change over time and get harder. Whatever the conversation, this black sheep family won’t be wearing rose-coloured glasses: the world as it is provides enough beauty, and we need to see clearly. [Author’s note: for an update on speaking to kids about climate change (or not), see my October 2018 column.]
\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/oil-tanker-1.jpeg\")
Eric and I know how easy it is to forget little romantic gestures in a long-term relationship. But we commit to these displays of caring, because it keeps our connection on days when we feel like ships passing in the night, and shows the kids a loving partnership. I see all our small acts of sustainability the same way: seeking out second-hand clothing and toys, using cloth shopping bags, gardening with rain water.
\n\n\n\nWe need our kids to see that we’re in a lifelong romance with the planet.
But just as relationships cannot subsist on chocolate and flowers alone, these practices will not save the Earth. We need our kids to see that we’re in a lifelong romance with the planet; these small actions are our “love notes.” They don’t replace the big work, but neither can we do without them. They’re the daily reminders of how precious this relationship is.
\n\n\n\nIn the words of developmentalist Deborah MacNamara, “Children are not meant to work for love. They are meant to rest in someone’s care so that they can play and grow.” I believe children who are nurtured in this way will also be more likely to nurture the Earth. We’re a fairly crunchy, attachment-parenting family (though more Neufeld than Sears, if that means anything to you). No sleep-training, minimal screen time, no separation-based discipline.
\n\n\n\nWe base our parenting on the knowledge that a child with strong early attachment bonds will be more resilient, more likely to succeed, more secure in themselves, and more independent. There’s even research that says children are smarter the more they’re held. All this is intimately related to how well our kids will fare in an uncomfortable future, in which compassion for others will be more crucial, but harder to come by. In that world, they will need the gritty resilience of Frodo, Katniss, and Pilgrim, but also the softness necessary to love a crumbling world.
\n\n\n\nTo be a pessimist in this era of disappearing habitat, vanishing species, bleaching coral reefs, and a rapidly warming climate is the obvious, but useless, choice. To be an optimist is naive at best. I want to embrace the paradox of moving forward with resolve into a world I hoped would never come. I want to treasure the tiny miracles of my children’s lives, while keeping an eye on the darkening sky. I want to teach my children to say, “big deal” to that darkness as they walk onwards into their future.
\n\n\n\nOn that note, you’ll excuse me if I leave you before Mini Ewe’s nap ends. I want to sneak some cuddles before she wakes up.
\n\n\n\n~ The Black Sheep Parent
\n","protected":false},"featured_media":326,"template":"","meta":[],"categories":[20,8,10,43,22],"tags":[249,121,145,60,120],"class_list":["post-354","articles","type-articles","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-kids-parenting","category-living","category-magazine","category-black-sheep-parent","category-voices","tag-brianna-sharpe","tag-children","tag-family","tag-opinion","tag-parenting"],"yoast_head":"\nThe author’s 3-year-old, alias Little Grey Lamb
\n"},"alt_text":"A 3-year-old child walks through an unkempt grassy field dotted with fluffy white dandelion seedheads.","media_type":"image","mime_type":"image/jpeg","media_details":{"width":1500,"height":1125,"file":"2022/08/Little-Grey-in-Grass-1.jpg","filesize":"264914","sizes":{"medium":{"file":"Little-Grey-in-Grass-1-300x225.jpg","width":300,"height":225,"filesize":"27353","mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/Little-Grey-in-Grass-1-300x225.jpg"},"large":{"file":"Little-Grey-in-Grass-1-1024x768.jpg","width":1024,"height":768,"filesize":"272708","mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/Little-Grey-in-Grass-1-1024x768.jpg"},"thumbnail":{"file":"Little-Grey-in-Grass-1-150x150.jpg","width":150,"height":150,"filesize":"9378","mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/Little-Grey-in-Grass-1-150x150.jpg"},"medium_large":{"file":"Little-Grey-in-Grass-1-768x576.jpg","width":768,"height":576,"filesize":"164085","mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/Little-Grey-in-Grass-1-768x576.jpg"},"full":{"file":"Little-Grey-in-Grass-1.jpg","width":1500,"height":1125,"mime_type":"image/jpeg","source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/Little-Grey-in-Grass-1.jpg"}},"image_meta":{"aperture":"0","credit":"","camera":"","caption":"","created_timestamp":"0","copyright":"","focal_length":"0","iso":"0","shutter_speed":"0","title":"","orientation":"0"}},"source_url":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/Little-Grey-in-Grass-1.jpg","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/media/326","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/media"}],"about":[{"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/types/attachment"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/users/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/wp-json/wp/v2/comments?post=326"}]}}],"wp:term":[[{"id":20,"link":"https://files.asparagusmagazine.com/category/living/kids-parenting/","name":"Kids & Parenting","slug":"kids-parenting","taxonomy":"category","yoast_head":"\n