Returning to Intention

Fall 2023

We’re getting into late fall, that part of the season when it feels more like winter than autumn…and I love it. Not only because I love the cold but because fall is a time for letting go. For releasing what is no longer needed and shedding what no longer serves. For allowing change. Welcoming transformationFall is a time for tending. For taking stock. For saving and discarding. For putting away. For putting to bed. Clearing out. Making time. Making ready. 

This season is a time for slowing down. For settling in. For drawing close. For watching. Observing. Considering. Quieting. 

Breathing in and

Breathing out and 

Waiting. 

Listening.

Noticing.

I have spent a fair bit of time since the Autumnal Equinox thinking about Marram Collaborative - what it was imagined to be, what it is now, and what it is…not yet, as Maxine Greene puts it. 

I’m also thinking about who Marram Collaborative serves, what it means, and why it exists.

I suppose this all can be summarized by one word: intention. I am thinking about intention.

What is the intention of Marram Collaborative? What sits in her heart? What ignites her spirit?

And now I’ve started referring to Marram Collaborative as she, maybe more ki, in the spirit of interbeing and kinship described by Dr. Kimmerer. But then again, I am speaking of a business. An organization. A limited liability company. A corporation. 

Does a corporation - which implies a corpus, a body - have a heart? Does a company have courage and spirit? Does a business have intention and vision?

I don’t mean “intention and vision” in the ways of paper and ink, ideal audience, and pain points. You know that vision: the one that gets posted on the website and socials, that is edited beyond fault and says all the right things and appeals to the broadest audience possible without offending anyone. Not that intention. Not that vision.

I mean the vision that emerges when a business is run like a living being, something complex and emergent, ever-shifting this way or that, like a cat who hates to be petted but loves to sit on your lap. 

I’m allergic to cats, so perhaps I am not applying that metaphor well, but what I mean to say is running a business is a tricky thing, especially when the world is progressing at unprecedented rates and going backward simultaneously.

When I started Marram Collaborative in the Summer of 2020 (yes, you read that right), I envisioned a space for ecological educators to gather (yes, gather…in 2020…good one, Em!) and learn from one another. I envisioned Marram Collaborative as a community space to share lessons, ideas, and encouragement to recapture and reinvigorate the wonder and delight that originally brought us to this work. 

You see, while ecological education often seems (and looks!) like a whole lot of sunshine and flowers, this work can be scary, lonely, and difficult. Ecological educators of all stripes swim against seemingly unstoppable tides like climate change, anti-science sentiment, and a loss of connection to place and nature. And still, few of us would rather do anything else. 

Originally, I had envisioned Marram Collaborative serving mostly K-12 classroom teachers and school leaders, with a sprinkling of homeschooling parents and university professors joining the mix now and then. As the pandemic worsened and schools repeatedly pivoted, I realized I also needed to pivot. 

Instead of doing the long-term, community-driven projects I prefer to work on, I decided to provide quick lessons, short activities, and fun mindfulness practices for educators to share with their students. The idea was that these quick bursts would help integrate eco-education into the curriculum by infusing teaching and learning with ecological mindedness without disruption - to the teachers, students, or especially the (already pandemic-altered) status quo.

Wait, what was that?

Without disruption.

Pause. Breathe.

Without disruption?

Notice. Observe.

But disruption was always the point!

In the decades since becoming an ecological educator, since I learned that this was, indeed, an actual profession, I have been a disrupter, a challenger, a critic, much to the dismay of bosses and coworkers and, yes, parents. I have been raising my voice, asking uncomfortable questions, and pushing against walls too high and too close for anyone to feel comfortable. 

It hasn’t made my life easy, but it has felt right.

Ecological education has never been about maintaining the status quo.

Ecological education has always been about shifting paradigms toward justice and health, equity and prosperity, compassion and empathy, and love and wisdom, for place, for community, for all beings.

Ecological education is about creating the world we want to see, where water is clean, air is good, and all beings thrive. It’s about imagining the unimaginable. It’s about asking, as David Orr put it, “ What then?” This is why I have raised my voice and asked difficult questions. This is why I’ve worked to tear down walls that were too rigid and shoddily built, not to rebuild them but to reimagine the structures and systems supporting meaningful ecological experiences. 

So, after knocking down walls all my life, how did I end up putting Marram Collaborative - and by relationship, myself - into a box, designing and sharing “activities” and “ideas” that would fit into the system without disruption? 

Sure, the pandemic was part of the unintentional shift towards quick-fixes and fun activities. We were all just trying to figure out our “new normal.” But I also blame it partly on trying to keep up with the algorithmic demands of social media (spoiler alert: I can’t teach you how to “do” ecological education in 7 seconds or even in 15 images in one post). 

I could also blame-shift to educational systems and the idea that learning is measured in numbers and progress charts instead of behavior changes and feelings of connection, love, and wonder. Once expansive and action-oriented, mainstream environmental education has been whittled down into measurable skills and knowledge that can be tested for and aligned to national standards.

But more than the pandemic, social media, and schooling, I blame myself for forgetting to remember Marram Collaborative's intention. 

Marram Collaborative was never meant to be about the activities, the lessons, or even (hear me out) the learners.

I created Marram Collaborative for the teachers, the designers, the educators, and the artists behind the curricula because they are critical to this work of learning to create a better world. 

For too long now, I have been trying to fit Marram Collaborative into the familiar boxes of environmental education and ecological literacy: fun activities, 45-minute lesson plans, and bite-sized bits of information about ecological systems, complex beings, and dynamic landscapes. 

I’ve been focusing on outcomes instead of process. I’ve been focusing on products instead of pedagogy. I have been trying to provide something quick, easy, and practical when nothing is quick, easy, or practical about shifting paradigms and changing hearts.

But it's autumn now. 

And three years later. 

And in that time, in this time of year, I have finally made time to observe and notice. To take stock and let go. To tend to what is calling for my attention before we move into the dreaming season. 

And what is calling my attention is the intention of Marram Collaborative. So I ask again, What sits in her heart? What ignites her spirit?

And when I slow down and quiet down…when I wait and listen and breathe…When I let the walls fall…when I shed last season's leaves and let them settle at my feet…I know it’s time to allow change and welcome transformation.

I started Marram Collaborative to create a space for ecological educators to gather. To share. To learn. To encourage. To reconnect. To create.

It may not seem like much right now, but going forward, I commit to returning to this intention, to centering it in my work through Marram Collaborative. Even when it feels scary and unfamiliar. Especially when it feels right and disruptive and wild.

I will lean into the ideas of ecological artistry and educational design I have developed and built my life-work around. 

I will share the work I’ve been doing independently (are we ever really independent?) and with other educators, as we cultivate and express our ecological artistry.

I will uplift examples of teaching and learning that celebrate place and reconnect humans and nature. 

I will welcome a community of educators developing, practicing, and refining our ecological artistry and personal-professional passions. 

Instead of reinforcing a box I never meant to build, I will put down the usual tools and return to colors and words to bring Marram Collaborative back to her intention: to engage educators of all kinds in conversation and action that nurture ecological literacy and community wellbeing.

Marram Collaborative: I can’t wait to see you there.