On Friday, we took our students on a field trip to Bluebonnet Swamp in Baton Rouge. Because it is a natural preservation site, we were not allowed to picnic on the grounds. We piled back into the bus to travel a few miles to another park. When we pulled up, a student yelled out, “I don’t see the playground.”
They were right. It was a vast green space with a pavilion, picnic tables, and a track. After we finished eating, I offered a walk to some students. We walked down a hill to a ravine and found a large live oak with its branches draping over the ground and ravine. The branches reached low enough for climbing.
And climbing was what they did. As though the tree herself had invited them on. Despite my little nag on my teacher shoulder, I let them go. Years ago when I was raising young children, I remember my sister-in-law allowing her daughter to climb a tree. I questioned her. She said, “Climbing gives her body confidence.” I was holding onto this as I watched these students in all their confident bodies climb all over the tree like cautious ants. They really did seem to know if they could do it.
No one fell. No one got hurt. Not one of them got wet. I released my held breath and patted my teacher-shoulder. On the way back up the hill to the bus, one of the students yelled out, “This is the best. field. trip. ever!”
Reflections on the Teche 