THE GREAT OUTDOOR

The Great Outdoor Classroom

by DAVE ELLINGSON

My friends thought I was crazy when I launched my kayak 10 years ago for a 2,350-mile adventure from the headwaters of the Mississippi River to the Gulf of Mexico. My inner Huck Finn had dreamed of this journey since I was a boy living on the banks of “Big Muddy,” and that day was the beginning of my dream come true. I was on sabbatical from my college teaching career, and my focus was studying the environment. What better way than to launch my boat into nature’s ultimate classroom, the great outdoors?

Long before printed books, Native peoples learned from the first book—the natural world. Elders shared stories that explained natural phenomenon like the changing of the seasons, and myths probed how the world was created. The skies were a grand screen on which epic tales were told. Creatures, great and small, were the instructors. The poet Mary Oliver captures the essence of this pedagogy writing, “Instruction for living. Pay attention. Be astonished. Tell about it.”

The flow of the river, its twists and turns, become my curriculum—fish and fowl my teachers, locals, “river angels.” I learn many lessons and this pastor/professor becomes the “paddle pilgrim.”

Ten years later at 74, I decided to do some graduate study in my favorite stretch of the Mississippi River, its headwaters. Spectacular scenery, abundant wildlife, and peaceful quiet call me like a school bell to come and learn.

Launching from Lake Itasca in Northern Minnesota in early June, I paddle with friends Ellen McDonah and Jim Lewis, who have each paddled the entire Mississippi. Expecting warm days and cool nights, we are astonished by record, 100-degree heat. Lesson one: “Hope for the best, prepare for the worst.”

At its start, the Mississippi is not mighty but meager. Rather than drag our boats in the shallow water we decide to launch downstream in one of the larger lakes near Bemidji, MN. While on the water we enjoy the pristine wilderness. Then each night at camp, we are

besieged by clouds of mosquitoes. As the heat persists, we experience the river getting lower and lower. Each day we witness—in real time— a mini-Grand Canyon being sculpted in mud banks, exposing holes where muskrats, otters, and beavers once lived.

Climate change is a daily subject in our learning laboratory. As our boats scrape the river bottom, we are experiencing, firsthand, the effects of humans on the environment.

Looking down into clear water, I am delighted by a parade of fish below my boat. A thick forest of reeds creates a safe nursery for young pike, suckers, and walleye to mature. Looking up, I see eagle fledglings learning to fly and fish. Trumpeter Swans, with eight-foot wingspans, demand a pause in my paddle to simply savor their beauty. This is my classroom. The headwaters, their home.

As a native Minnesotan I am proud of its visionary, “Clean Water, Land & Legacy” amendment to the state constitution, which sets aside three-eighths of one percent of sale tax dollars to fund projects to enhance water, land, arts and culture, parks and trails, and environmental and natural resources. The people of the land of 10,000 lakes value, enjoy, and protect its outdoor classroom.

Here are a few of the lessons from the Great Outdoor Classroom:

Native peoples teach us about caring for creation and living sustainable lives in harmony with Mother Earth.

Environmentalists show us both the resilience and the fragility of the amazingly diverse and interconnected natural world.

Animals call us to treat them with love and respect as friends in a healthy and balanced co-existence.

Creation inspires us to ponder life’s deeper meaning, savour the moment, and think about the longterm health of our planet and its inhabitants.

Perhaps my favorite teacher is a 9-year-old Ojibwe girl named Naomi. She is a member of the Water Protectors, an environmental group seeking to stop the building of an oil pipeline through their tribal lands. Standing by her “holy waters,” she asks me, “Where will the animals live?” Where, indeed? Naomi’s question is a plea for responsible stewardship of the “father of waters” and mother earth.

I am teaching my grandson, William, to kayak. On a recent paddle when I say, “It’s time to head back to shore,” he responds, “Let’s keep going.”

We all have challenging and wonderful homework to do!

Long before printed books, Native peoples learned from the first book— the natural world.

Dave Ellingson

is a Lutheran pastor, master gardener, former distance runner, and father of five grown children. You can listen to his podcast at: https:// anchor.fm/davidellingson. He lives in Edmonds, Wash.

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MY GRANDMOTHER, MY HERO

I grew up in my Italian grandmother’s kitchen as she chopped, grated, salted, peppered, and stirred. If you’ve ever felt comfortably held, fed, or heard, that’s what it was like to be around my grandmother’s table. She shared her love through cooking. Since early childhood I’ve cherished our time in the kitchen together, where she would enchant me with her wonderful cooking talent, wisdom, laughter, and love.

My foray into filmmaking began as I set out to film my grandmother Evelyn—then in her late 90s—create her magic in the kitchen. As with any good cook, her recipes weren’t written down. It was always “a pinch of this and handful of that.” I wanted to capture her recipes and preserve her stories and memories of our precious time together.

As I approached my 50th birthday, Evelyn was also approaching a major birthday milestone—100 trips around the sun. It was then I noticed a real disconnect between my perception of growing and being older, and what the media was depicting. I felt bombarded by negative stereotypes A LIFE portrayed in media and advertising WELL LIVED about aging, yet was enclosed in this bubble of love that emanated from my incredibly alive, almost centenarian STORY AND PHOTOS BY grandmother as she cooked, laughed, worked out at the gym, and lived life SKY BERGMAN to the limits. I filmed my grandmother at the gym just before her 100th birthday because I thought no one will believe she still works out. When I asked her to share a few words of wisdom it became an epiphany moment for me. I thought: I am approaching 50 and here is my grandmother who is going to be a hundred in a couple of days. I need to find other older adults like my grandmother, people who can show what a life well-lived looks like. It was just the first flickering of an idea, a beginning that would morph into purpose.

I never thought I would become a filmmaker. It happened because I wanted to tell a story, beginning with love of my grandmother. I have always believed that if you have a passion for something, you can make it happen. And that the more personal a story, the more universal the message. Although I am a professional photographer, I knew nothing

about filmmaking. I knew nothing about sound, and had to rerecord several interviews due to rookie mistakes. I knew nothing of funding a project like this, so I got creative. My house has lots of bedrooms. I set up an Airbnb and funded the film by renting rooms in my home. Instead of saying why, I told myself, why not? Just go for it!

I spent the next four years interviewing 40 people—75 and older—with a collective life experience of 3,000 years. The common thread among all the wonderful people I interviewed was their sense of purpose.

Living with purpose is the drive that keeps us going and feeds our curiosity. Our sense of purpose can change over time, depending on our life circumstances. For me, creating

a film about older adults changed mine. Interviewing the incredible people for the Lives Well Lived film gave me the courage and inspiration to take the leap and pursue my third act.

After a thirty-year university career teaching photography, I decided to retire this past December. My colleagues asked me, “Why are you retiring so young when you are at the top of your game?” I realized that I had fulfilled my teaching career and decided to look through a different creative lens. I’m well on my way to publishing a book that tells more about my journey, the stories of the people in the film, and about how you can have a life well lived. I have also found my new passion: creating films and projects that inspire and foster intergenerational connections.

Why focus on connecting the generations? I was very lucky to have my grandmother in my life, yet realize many younger people don’t have a positive connection with an older adult, and as a result we are seeing a rise in ageism. To combat any type of “ism,” the first step is to cultivate a conversation and a connection—to truly see, hear, and value a person who is different from you.

I am fortunate to have a platform to foster inter–generational connections. For the past four years I’ve been working with high schools, universities, and Senior Planet members (part of AARP) across the country using the Lives Well Lived film as a catalyst to connect generations. After viewing the film, students and older adults are paired up and given questions used in the film as a starting point for a conversation, creating a bridge between students and older adults. As they take turns interviewing each other, each gains a deeper understanding of the other, and share their knowledge and wisdom about life. This connection, understanding, and common ground creates lasting, authentic intergenerational relationships. To date, these intergenerational projects have involved more than 500

Facing Page: Sky Bergman’s grandmother, Evelyn, creates magic in her kitchen. Above: Evelyn, 100, works out at the gym, sparking the idea for the documentary Lives Well Lived; Sky filming a segment of the film; Sky and Evelyn.

students and older adults—combating stereotypes and ageism one story and one connection at a time.

We have a generation of older adults who’ve lived through the toughest of times, and now a generation coming of age during the toughest of times. If we can find our common ground by creating intergenerational connections— especially in times of social unrest and isolation—we can help one another find a better tomorrow.

Sky Bergman is an award-winning photographer and the former chair of the Art & Design department at Cal Poly State University in San Luis Obispo, CA. Lives Well Lived was Sky’s directorial debut. She is currently working on two new short films that encourage intergenerational connections and a feature length film that celebrates love. Learn more at www.skybergmanproductions.com.