What’s at the heart of Nature Education?
- natureclassrooms
- Jul 24
- 5 min read
Updated: Sep 8
-by Aswathi Asokan
An Educator's Diary #6
“If we want children to flourish, to become truly empowered, let us allow them to love the earth before we ask them to save it.” - David Sobel
This quote often makes me wonder: for those of us working in the environment, nature education or conservation space, or even just any of us who, today, want to do something for the earth - did our journey begin out of a pressing need to fix the world, or did it stem from a plain, pure love and awe for the natural world around us? Perhaps one led to the other? Maybe it was something completely different?
My connection to nature started around primary school, simply by some enthusiastic people showing me the birds and insects around me. I really wondered why they were telling me all this, but it was pretty fun, so I kept going. They showed me how everything that flies is more than just a bird– that there are hundreds of kinds of insects, trees that stand tall for centuries, and others that grow by hugging their companions. They showed me how incredibly diverse, colourful, and adaptable nature is, with so many behaviours, calls, and seasons. Slowly, I realised there's so much happening in nature, and somehow, I wanted to know more. The more I learned, the more I loved it - both being around it and exploring it. And the more I loved it, the more I wanted everyone around me to experience that same wonder. That's when I finally understood why those enthusiastic people, when I was a child, wanted to share all of this with me. A full circle, if I may say so.
Fast forward to more than a decade later, June 2025. I led a coastal ecology and journaling session in Chennai. The group consisted of eight adults over 30 and one vibrant 11-year-old, presenting a unique dynamic for a "shorewalk without a beach" in Chennai. My initial concern about balancing engagement across such a broad age range quickly dissipated, largely due to the enthusiasm of our youngest participant. This 11-year-old was the fastest, most energetic, and most inquisitive participant during the entire session. She completed her activity sheets faster than the adults, asked insightful questions, and her infectious energy even inspired her parents and brought smiles to the faces of other participants.
The moment that stuck with me unfolded during our closing discussion on "Why are sandy beaches important for Chennai?". While the adults were exploring more practical ‘infrastructural or wave protection’ type answers, she, with an effortless clarity, responded:
"Where else will the Turtles go lay eggs? Where will all these snails and shells live? And if not for beaches, how will we get to see them?"
Her answer made my day. It revealed an inherent, intuitive understanding of ecological interconnectedness that had evidently not clicked with the adults. This child, however, instinctively centered her understanding on the non-human inhabitants and the shared experience of witnessing them.
This is what guides my philosophy in my work as an educator. What I’m most passionate about is crafting engaging experiences that bridge the gap between people and the natural world, and what I've observed time and again is the sheer, unadulterated curiosity of children. They approach every leaf, every shell, every ripple in the water with a fresh perspective, asking questions that often make adults pause and reconsider. My approach with them is almost entirely centered on fostering that pure sense of wonder and making it a joyful exploration. With adults, while equally enthusiastic, the approach often shifts. I find myself subtly weaving in elements of conservation advocacy, drawing direct lines between ecological health and human well-being. I’ve told myself that it’s about providing a rationale, a compelling reason for engagement, often appealing to an extrinsic motivation- the need to protect something due to its immediate human relevance or impending crisis. This contrasts sharply with children's intrinsic motivation, where pure fun and discovery is what takes the front seat.
This highlights a critical aspect of human learning and perception at different stages. Children, often operating in Piaget's ‘preoperational’ or ‘concrete operational’ stages (1) (between the ages of 4-12) perceive the world with a directness and an unburdened curiosity. Their idea of nature is less compartmentalized and more inclusive, allowing for the natural development of empathy towards other living beings and fostering a deeper sense of biophilia- our innate tendency to connect with other forms of life. Adults, with our accumulated knowledge and societal conditioning, often approach environmental issues through a more human-centric lens, sometimes overlooking the intrinsic value of other life forms. We seek more cognitive and utilitarian connections, over simply connecting through wonder, joy, and sensory experience.
My journey engaging diverse age groups has consistently highlighted this divergence, often revealing a profound empathy gap that is best addressed early on. In a world increasingly dominated by screens and urban environments, these observations only reiterate how crucial this early, intuitive connection developed during childhood (2) is to foster values and empathy towards nature- a foundation that is crucial for a lifelong love and stewardship for the planet. It also takes sensitive, curious, and empathetic adults to nurture and help these childhood values carry into their adulthood as they grow. While it’s always possible to cultivate these connections in adulthood, the pathway often requires a conscious effort to dismantle pre-existing notions and re-ignite that primal sense of wonder. Only from building that pure curiosity, wonder, and love back up from scratch can we empower individuals to perceive the natural world not just as a resource for human needs, but as a living system to which we belong, and for which we hold a profound, heartfelt responsibility.
I leave you with these questions that I ponder about everyday. How do we ensure that every child has access to free play, exploration and space for curiosity in nature? How do we, as adults, dismantle years of conditioning, to allow this sense of wonder in us? And how do we adults ensure that we co-learn with children, in opening ourselves up to child-like wonder and curiosity, while giving children the space to grow to, and through it as well?
“If I had influence with the good fairy who is supposed to preside over the christening of all children I should ask that her gift to each child in the world be a sense of wonder, so indestructible that it would last throughout life as an unfailing antidote against the boredom and disenchantments of later years, the sterile preoccupation with things that are artificial, the alienation from the sources of our strength.” - Rachel Carson, ‘The Sense of Wonder’
Written by Aswathi Asokan
Aswathi is a nature educator, curriculum developer and enthu-cutlet, who believes that the stories of shores, tides, spiders, and trees need to be shared with everyone around her! She currently works as a Coordinator (Resources, Curriculum Development, Outreach) at Nature Classrooms and as a Fellowship Operations Associate at YouCAN.
References
Bazhydai, M., & Westermann, G. (2020). From curiosity, to wonder, to creativity: a cognitive developmental psychology perspective. In A. Schinkel (Ed.), Wonder, education, and human flourishing. (pp.144-182). Amsterdam: VU University Press.
Chawla, L. (2015). Benefits of Nature Contact for Children. Journal of Planning Literature, 30(4), 433-452. https://doi.org/10.1177/0885412215595441 (Original work published 2015)
If you are an educator looking to engage with articles and opinion pieces on nature education and pedagogy, a student looking to explore discourses in nature education, or just curious about these things - here's a curated list of essential readings available online.
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