Christine Whitcraft

Having A Sense of Place Is What Anchors My Teaching Philosophy

Christine Whitcraft is a wetland ecologist, professor in Biological Sciences, and the Director of Environmental Science and Policy at California State University, Long Beach, and is part of the steering committee at ECCLPs.

In my career path as a wetland ecologist, I have had incredible experiences being outside in wild places. Though now in this virtual world, I find myself spending more time at the computer, and finding ways to be immersed in our ecosystem have to be more intentionally sought. If I want to remember the reasons why I got into this work, I go spend time in nature, which helps me get out of my head and into my heart.

As a child, I grew up in a rural section of Maryland, which is an area rich in natural resources. Growing up, my parents allowed me to spend hours free ranging and exploring the pond and stream behind our house, and I loved it.  My mom was an elementary school teacher and guidance counselor, and my dad was a pragmatic environmentalist, who worked on implementing the Clean Air act within companies like Dupont. They showed me that protecting our natural world could be a future profession. In fifth grade, I even went to a career day dressed as an ecologist, wearing a safari hat and had a butterfly net.

Some of my students live just miles from the coast, and they will have never really visited it. Sometimes, I get to be there the first time people see the coast, and I get to see the wonder, excitement, and curiosity. I love witnessing that spark happen. Sometimes, people feel afraid or apprehensive. It is in all of these moments that I realize how privileged I have been to feel comfortable in nature all my life and that it was a gift to have accessed nature with such openness as a child. Now, I have the privilege of helping people feel comfortable in new settings, of facilitating positive experiences that provide connection to our coastal ecosystem, and of helping learners build confidence in their knowledge and belonging in these ecosystems. During my postdoc, I was part of an experiential education program called the Tall Ship Education Academy through San Francisco State, where we took high school girls out to sea on a wooden schooner to sail up and down the coast of California and in some instances, the Caribbean. Through formal evaluation, we learned that the experience had a positive impact on student’s view on what it means to be self-sufficient, what it means to be a leader, and why it matters to have wild spaces like the ocean. These teaching experiences have helped realize that it is vital to foster experiences that increase access and feelings of belonging in our natural places.

Having a sense of place is what anchors my teaching philosophy. That place for me is our coastal wetlands. In this digital world when we can be anywhere interacting, the idea of developing a sense of place where you are is even more crucial, not just because it may inspire us to protect it, but also because nature can teach us so much when we just sit still and listen. Not just knowing the history of a place, but actually feeling the significance of it, comes from spending time in that place - sitting, observing, and valuing your intuition. 

One of the lessons that I have found powerful as a science educator is to structure assignments for students to go outside, find a flower and to just sit and observe in that space with that plant for a 30 whole minutes. I ask them to journal and draw about their observations; who visited the flower, what are the activities of life happening, and what are the scientific observations one can draw. This is an exercise that I use in my upper division classes as well as with young children who use crayons to document the experience. Not everyone loves it. For many the experience is initially awkward as they are not often asked to sit, slow down, and be patient. The majority of students express a feeling of empowerment and even belonging to be part of such a dynamic ecosystem. I have also found that the experience can open up dialogue about climate change. Students can be overwhelmed by climate change, and some have shared with me that they will not have kids due to this climate anxiety. Many of our studies tell us a large amount of bad news, and if we don’t also put emphasis on solutions it can be easy for people to feel that they can’t make a difference. So both empowering students to connect with their surroundings and then including actionable solutions in the discussion and lectures really matters when balancing climate despair. 

In Southern California where I live there are a lot of human impacts on our wetlands, including pollution, development, and a number of pressures on them from our activities. It amazes me sometimes, to see that natural places are still there, full of life. The tide still goes in and out everyday, there are still fish, a diversity of plant life, and sometimes ecosystems maintain these functions despite the pressure. I know they will not last if we continue to devastate them, but still I see the lesson of resilience there. It reminds me that we still have a moment to ensure the persistence of wilderness, nature and hope through the education of the next generation. In our conservation efforts, wetland systems are able to respond in healthy ways, and to me that is a sign that restoration is possible if we take action now.

Despite the early exploring I did when I was a child, I find that we now live in a very different world. I live in California, and I have now lived here longer than I have lived anywhere else. My husband, 11 year old son and I live in an urban environment, and I have found that spending time outdoors must be more intentionally sought than it was in Maryland where I grew up. As a family we backpack and go into the ocean. While we have a running list of camping spots, there is a particular place, just north of Fresno, that we love. It is an iconic mountain scene with a beautiful lake that you can access from the Sierras. Sometimes, there is still snow there In May. We have been visiting camping spots like this throughout California as a family since our son was born. This place has become one of our favorite places, and I want it to remain protected.

I love being around water. I became particularly interested in coastal wetlands because of the unique and highly adapted suite of plants and animals that live in them. An important part of studying wetlands is understanding our human impacts on them. Earlier in my career the focus of my research was on non-native species, but now, I have increased my research focus to include  climate change, as its effects on wetlands are undeniable. Coastal wetlands are like canaries in the coal mine for climate change; they are among the early indicators of our changing climate. These special ecosystems are already shrinking due to poor or absent management, while also being impacted by more frequent and intense storms and rising seas. When healthy, our coastal wetlands become a natural solution to many climate change issues helping us adapt to climate changes by buffering waves, holding and absorbing floodwaters, which in turn protects our human communities. However, wetlands become much less effective when poorly managed. In these sensitive ecosystems, restoring eel grass or oyster beds and planting native species greatly help to filter nutrients and preserve the diversity of wildlife that relies on wetlands. Well-protected and restored wetlands have positive results for people. As an educator, I feel the responsibility to emphasize this connection between intact ecosystems and people. I want to create learning around the vital connections between how we treat the planet and the success of the people who live on it, and that some communities are more impacted than others.


Written by Christine Whitcraft, with editing support from Change Narrative LLC.