“This is the most awesomest field trip I’ve ever had.”

And with those words the last happy smiling student filed on to the final yellow school bus and returned to the city & summer.  A warm fuzzy feeling mingling with another exhausted feeling of relief that no one (teachers included) fell into a marsh, got lost in the bush, met up with stinging nettles, got too close to a bison, fought with another, etc. etc.

I had hoped to write more of my current life as a Parks Canada Naturalist at Elk Island National Park but the past two months have left little room for that (not to mention dissertation revisions–well what’s another couple of months pushed back, eh?).  In this brief interlude between leading science-based learning excursions for students and the next as the happy face that camping families and groups will encounter either in the campground or on the trail–you know who these over exuberant people are because more likely than not YOU have encountered them in a National Park before– I thought I would offer a few fleeting impressions around three general ideas:  a)  Being with, and among, communities of learning, life and death close-up; b) Why National Parks like Elk Island are more (and less) than icons of nation; and c) how this experience has challenged some of my notions.  I’ll try not to bore you–too much.

A.  Many of us tend to bandy the “community” word around, as if its universal meaning is apparent and need not be explained too closely.  One thing I have learned after a few months is that community is indeed a unifying word but remains a myopic idea if we do not at least attempt to re-position ourselves outside the centre of whatever community we may say (and see) we’re a part of.  For example, I have had the pleasure of interacting with numerous groups, many of whom I have had to adapt my normal consideration of things (which trail?  which stories? which curriculum objectives?) as much as they have understood that they must make some room for me–which can admittedly be kind of easy when we’re on a hike through bison country and students see it as a life or death proposition.  But there is another kind of community I’m alluding to here:  the community that is also known as ecology.  I have experienced the processes of life, living, dying and death on numerous levels, and when I am among these communities I am cognizant of my own place in these relational processes.  The experience can be humbling.

B.  Elk Island is a National Park.  That’s nice.  But it is also so much more–and less.  I know that for me, there is still a collage of feelings when I enter ANY National Park.  This host of emotion and thought can be hard to pin down but part of it is based on the intimacy many Canadians feel between their land and history.  The EINP story fits into the larger story of Western Canada nicely but there is a local, regional history (The Beaverhills Ecosystem) which transcends the straight-line boundaries of the Park.  In this sense, the Park is part of the ecosystem history and not vice-versa.  EINP is a Park in continuous (and sometimes acrimonious) discussion with its rural neighbours.  I understand the direction that some come from with respect to the deconstruction of the national narrative that comes part and parcel with over a century of Parks history (Parks Canada Agency turns 100 next year) but while all National Parks may be National, some are also regional and provincial parks too.  EINP is one such park.  How, then is EINP also more than a National Park?  Simply put, it is a place of international engagement.  I have seen more cultural and ethnic diversity daily in the Park than I have in Edmonton.  To be sure, many visitors are international tourists but many, many, more are Edmontonians of African, Asian, Middle Eastern and Indigenous descent.  I’m sure there is much more complexity that I have not perceived.  I have heard Torontonians describe Centre Island in much the same way.  Finally, it is a park where humans are just one of thousands of living and dying things and these ‘other’ species know nothing of nationalism.

Parks Canada photo of Bison Paddock and Round-Up, c. 1920

C.  My wife says she loves a man in uniform.  This is one time I can say I can see why.  I enjoy the Parks Canada look.  I enjoy being outdoors in it.  Yet, those jobs where one can be outside and among the visitors (i.e. interpreters) are actually few.  I have learned rather quickly that EINP–and Parks Canada proper– is a bureaucratic business, subject to wholesale structural changes if any one aspect is under reconsideration.  My colleagues also point out that vertical mobility in any government bureaucratic structure, based largely on seniority and merit, does not apply in the Parks Canada system, as one must constantly apply and reapply for any position that one fancies.  For me, only 4 or 5 months (give or take ;) ) from a Ph.D. this is more than slightly disheartening.  My professional options are limited.  There is only one (!) Parks Canada historian position in Western Canada and interpreter jobs are limited.  Sure, there are office jobs (there are LOTS of office jobs with Parks Canada) but that’s not my jam.  Whenever I’m currently in the office, I’m more than likely staring out the window after 10 minutes.  So, my stint as a Park interpreter at EINP is just that–a stint.  Still, its been a refreshingly stimulating one to date.  Except, perhaps, for the 8 a.m. start.

Why do naturalists love getting up so early in the morning?  

Today our “Junior Naturalists” and evening theatre portion of the camping seasons begins.  We provide programs for younger visitors in the park to explore animal tracks (and traces of course!), painting and pond dipping.  My two colleagues and I will also be “roving” the campground, to meet people, learn their stories, take their questions, and gently persuade them to come up to the theatre and watch our ‘dramatic presentation’– Lily IPad’s Holographic Journey Through Elk Island National Park.  I will be, among others, Sir Wilfred Laurier, Three Park Superintendents and ‘Dr. Love.’  Don’t ask…. 

Sometimes it seems as though everything is a song and dance….

I hope to post some pics in the near future–once I figure out how to get the photos out of my wife’s cell phone and on to the ‘Net.  Until then , I hope your summer continues to be a relaxing adventure!

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