Fostering the Nature Connection through GICEL
Kids during beach time in front of Mount Baker. Photo by Emily Smith.
With each passing generation, we are spending more of our lives inside. So much of our work, learning, and socializing now happens virtually. This is fundamentally different from how humans have always lived—in touch with family, community, and the natural world. Modern life has its advantages, but a major consequence is a deepening disconnect from what’s real and important.
Time in nature brings us back to Earth. This is easier to do on SḴŦAḴ | Mayne Island than in most other places; in cities, we are sheltered, distracted, always in a rush. Children who grow up without access to natural spaces don’t know what they’re missing, so they don’t miss it, and will likely become adults who don’t act to protect it. Creating a connection to nature at a young age is crucial, especially as we face an uncertain environmental future.
These are ideas I’ve been reflecting on as I wrap up my summer with the Conservancy and the Gulf Islands Centre for Ecological Learning (GICEL). After spending much of my life in urban and suburban communities in Ontario, my time on SḴŦAḴ | Mayne Island has given me a different perspective on what it means to live closely with the natural world. More importantly, working with GICEL’s campers has shown me how a strong connection to nature can take root at a young age, and how much that connection can teach the rest of us.
The atmosphere on SḴŦAḴ | Mayne Island is special. There is greater overall respect and knowledge of nature. Many of you are avid naturalists, have green thumbs, choose to gather outside for social events, and are generally more aware of the world around you because you interact with it every day. I have seen this relationship to nature develop firsthand among the youth here.
This summer, I had the pleasure of working two jobs on Mayne: communications for the Conservancy, and coordinator of GICEL’s Summer Earth Education Program. GICEL has been running outdoor nature education camps for kids for 25 years. In this milestone year, we hosted a first-time adult camp day, and plan to do so again next year.
Four weeks of camp take place on SḴŦAḴ | Mayne Island at Lighthouse Point and Bennett Bay, with a fifth week on Saturna Island. The focus alternates between forest and marine ecosystems every week, with specific ecological themes each day like biodiversity and food chains. These themes are woven into the songs and games that are mainstays of GICEL camp.
Most of the leaders have been campers themselves—they progress through levels of leadership training to become the role models they looked up to when they were campers. The kids, aged 6-12, are organized into three clans, each with its own fort. This system promotes a strong sense of family and tradition that keeps the camp’s spirit alive. Returning campers eagerly anticipate their favourite activities, and newcomers are readily welcomed into an immersive week-long adventure.
Truth be told, I was overwhelmed at first. Not only did I have to learn the lyrics to the songs and the rules of the games, but as coordinator, I was supposed to have all the answers. Thankfully, I had an amazing team to support me. By the end of the first week, I felt capable and confident. Being in nature is grounding and reduces stress, so I felt better able to handle challenges than I ever have in an office.
Some of my favourite memories include whale watching and rock walking at Bennett Bay, participating in Human Scavenger Hunt (a clan-versus-clan competition that showcases camper skills), and most importantly, making meaningful connections with the kids. I was continually impressed by their knowledge of land and aquatic animals. We opened each week with a game where campers tried to figure out which species was written on their back, and they could easily narrow down the possibilities when given hints about a plant, fish, bird, or mammal.
The environmental literacy at GICEL camp was remarkable. We established certain rules in our camp contract, among them “pack-in, pack-out” as a reminder to leave a place better than you found it. The campers seemed to grasp both the importance and immensity of the natural world. They could make sense of natural cycles and phenomena and were willing to get their hands dirty. I saw fearlessness and curiosity whenever a camper picked up a crab, followed a snake, or simply sat down and played with the grass.
They were a part of nature.
That was the most meaningful thing I observed this summer. The kids weren’t afraid of the natural world, nor did they see themselves as separate from it. They were curious about it, comfortable in it, and respectful of it. They were wild yet respectful.
My expectations for the summer were far exceeded. I arrived on SḴŦAḴ | Mayne Island hoping to contribute to the work of an organization dedicated to protecting the natural world, and I am leaving with a renewed understanding of why that work matters. The future of conservation depends not only on protecting land and water, but on raising people who feel connected enough to care about them.
GICEL is over for this summer, but if you know youth who’d like to get involved and get outside this fall, the Conservancy’s new Nature Club offers a chance for youth 6-12 to build their own connection with the natural world. Find out more and sign up here. If this summer taught me anything, it’s that the more opportunities we give young people to get outside, the more likely they are to grow into people who care deeply about the places they call home.
Special thanks to Michael Dunn and Jess Willows for creating and sustaining GICEL, and for looking after me during my time on Mayne.
Congratulations on 25 years, GICEL!
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