Introducing and Supporting the Web of Life with Young Children — Part II of a Three-Part Series

By: Jennifer Salerno, EdD

Independence or Interdependence: That is the Question

A few years ago, I developed a physical disability that significantly altered how I viewed and operated in the world. I had always been fiercely independent and took great pride in accomplishing goals on my own. I relished the satisfaction and ego boost of setting and achieving goals without help. It was exhilarating. Over time, accolades for "a job well done" from those around me reinforced this feeling. Eventually, it became the norm and embedded the idea (Taimur & Ross, 2023) that independent achievements were valued more than collaborative efforts. Consequently, when I became an early childhood educator, I emphasized independent accomplishments over working interdependently or cooperatively. I thought that's what success looked and felt like: the ability to tackle things without help. That's not to say I frowned on working with others; quite the opposite. I encouraged it. However, my primary goal for my students was to instill self-reliance. I believed, above all else, it was necessary to thrive in life.

Once I developed a disability, in some areas of my life, independence became a challenge. As a result, I began exploring the idea of interdependence. Interdependence is defined as mutual dependence or the act of being mutually reliant (brown, 2017). As I explored interdependence, I realized we are supposed to be mutually reliant. Everyone and everything has different strengths and unique attributes. Our unique attributes are assets that not only help us to thrive but also make it possible for others to flourish. Every being plays a role essential to the well-being of those around them.

Interdependence, as opposed to independence, is the norm in the natural world. It's essential to life on Earth and vital to ecosystems. Every being has a unique ecological purpose and function that relates to others and necessitates biodiversity. Biodiversity refers to a variety of species, including plants, animals, and microorganisms, that live in a certain area and rely on one another to exist. Their interrelationships create a vast living system in which all beings work together and support one another, resulting in the system's greater good (Martusewicz et al., 2021). This system is known as the web of life. It is an expansive macro community that interconnects all living and nonliving things (Web of Life, 2021).

A Practice of Noticing

Becoming aware of this made me realize I needed to identify and understand what interdependence looked and felt like in my community, local ecosystem, and day-to-day life.

I began this endeavor by making it a daily practice to go outside with my dog and focus on noticing. I started with vegetation and let my curiosity take over. At the time, it was the dead of winter. To my surprise, the dead of winter was full of life. The trees I thought were barren were full of hard brown buds, which I learned indicated they were healthy and dormant (McLaugherty, 2010). The ground cover, which I expected to be brown and lifeless, had bright green sprouts of vegetation (which I'm still trying to identify). Whenever something sparked my curiosity, I took a picture so I could look it up and classify it properly. I wanted to identify as much as I could, understand how it functioned, fit into the ecosystem, and, in some cases, why things didn't fit in and whether they were harming other organisms. I began creating logs with artifacts. I took pictures, collected samples (as long as it wasn't hurting anything), and, when possible, recorded audio or video. I moved from merely noticing to asking questions like: How are these beings connected? In what ways do they support each other? How do my daily actions help or hurt the ecosystem? Is my garden biodiverse? Are the plants and flowers indigenous and supporting pollinators? Should I pull the weeds, or are they serving a beneficial purpose? Aren't weeds part of biodiversity?

Unidentified green sprouts.

From vegetation, I moved on to mammals, birds, and fish. Because my house is on the water, I came across many different species living in starkly different environments. I encountered otters, snakes, turtles, geese, snowy egrets, jellyfish, woodpeckers, and groundhogs, among others. I recorded the dates and times I saw each animal, along with a picture and, if it was a bird, an audio clip of their song. Again, I would spend time researching each creature and learning what they needed to thrive and their role in the ecosystem. Eventually, I got to know some of the animals, like the otter that lived next to my dock, the groundhog that dug extensive tunnels in my backyard, the rat snake hibernating in a hole along the fence, and the duckling that was a little smaller and had to work just a little harder than her siblings. I also made sure not to interfere with any of the fellow animals and shared the space respectfully.

Jellyfish next to my dock.

Snowy Egret in flight.

Once I started to see how the eco-community worked together, I tried to do my part to support it. I removed any trash or debris I found on land or in the water and got rid of the invasive plants around my home. Over time, I started to feel like I was part of something larger than myself by contributing to the surrounding ecosystem and supporting the web of life. As a result, I had an aha moment. I realized I should do this type of inquiry work with the children I taught. Instead of zooming in on individual aspects of nature without showing how they connect to the ecosystem, I should start by zooming out and giving the children space to discover the local ecosystem, see how everything works together, and find their place in it.

From Practice to Pedagogy: Introducing Ecosystems and Empowerment

I wasn't sure how to start the journey with a group of four-year-olds and wondered if I should make suggestions or provide direction. I decided against steering them towards something and started them off as I did: with a practice of noticing. We made a daily ritual of going for a walk, choosing an inviting spot to lie or sit on the ground, and taking everything in. We'd close our eyes and listen to the surroundings, or watch the world go by and let things of interest emerge. If sitting still wasn't ideal, they were free to move about and safely explore the immediate area. We'd bring paper and crayons, pencils, or paints, and make lists, create pictures, or gather samples (when appropriate) of things that piqued our curiosity. We'd bring our "notes" and artifacts back to the classroom to discuss and further examine. Typically, the children would start talking about things that excited them, like how “enormous” a sunflower head was or how a stick they found had little bumps all over it. I might contribute by asking open-ended questions like, "How do the bumps feel when you touch them?" Or "What do you think makes the sunflower head so big?" Sometimes the kids would contribute theories; sometimes not. If they did, I'd ask, "How do you know?" If they didn't offer ideas, I'd follow up with, "How can we find out?" It wasn't just about establishing a line of inquiry around a topic of interest related to the ecosystem; it was also about empowering them to do collaborative research and use the resources around them, whether those were reference books, grandparents, or the internet.

Taking in and drawing trees.

The drawing of the trees with an artifact.

The Learning Community: An Ecosystem Unto Itself

This endeavor wasn't designed to yield answers. It was about getting to know our ecosystem, asking questions about it that led to more refined questions, and learning how each person could contribute to the process. In that way, the class was an ecosystem unto itself. As we embarked on our journey of discovery, we also learned more about working interdependently and being in community together as a class. It was beautiful to be a part of it and watch it unfold. Through collaboration, the kids got to know each other more deeply, understood what each person needed to thrive, and went out of their way to support one another's needs.       

They also grew more attuned to their surroundings, becoming expert noticers and problem solvers. While exploring vegetation, for example, they noticed when the plants were starting to droop. Through their inquiry, they discovered that droop could be a sign of dehydration. If watering didn't work, they found that some plant stalks might need extra support. The kids learned how to attach a stake to the stalk so it could stay upright and remain available to the bees to aid pollination. Similarly, they reminded each other to take sips of their water bottles so they didn't get droopy, and they even kept track of each other's water bottles so none got lost and everyone stayed hydrated.

Staked droopy plants.                                     

Strength through Relationality

Of course, we weren't able to conduct grand sweeping ecological studies of our area in Maryland. However, we began to understand that by building relationships with those around us, whether people or plants, we all become stronger and happier. The children felt empowered seeing that their efforts made a positive difference, whether it was sharing their snack with a friend who forgot theirs or learning how to compost to reduce waste and create fertilizer for the plants. The children began to see that we are all connected in some way and our actions affect others for better or worse. In my humble opinion, that is what teaching is all about: learning how to care for the world and those we share it with so that we leave it better than we found it.

Leaving the Earth Better than We Found It

Over the years, the children I had the honor of working with conducted many in-depth explorations of their ecosystems and the natural world, taking different shapes depending on the class's personality and collective interests. The first exploration of this type started with sunflower heads. I could write a book about everything we discovered that year and the long, winding path we took to get there. The research led to further exploration of pollinators and their vital role in the web of life, as well as flowers that support pollinators and can be used to make tea, which can also benefit humans. We planted a flower garden that attracted and supported bees and butterflies and included a variety of tea plants and flowers. The plants included mint, lemon balm, lavender, and chamomile.

 Exploring an enormous sunflower head.

That's not to say that they only learned about tea flowers and bees. They also learned about worms and their function, as well as birds, soil, composting, insects, local bodies of water, deer, groundhogs, squirrels, weeds, ladybugs, aphids, etc. Tea flowers and bees were merely the lens that helped them see the web of life and how each being plays a part.

Today, my goals for the young people I teach have grown into something larger and more powerful than self-reliance. It is vital to understand that we are part of something much larger than ourselves. Working together for the greater good requires self-awareness as well as an understanding of those around us. Now I strive to spark curiosity and imagination while instilling critical consciousness, care and respect for others, and a desire to work collectively to leave the world a better place. I think, perhaps, if I can do that, I will have served my function in the web of life. My next and final installment in this three-part series will discuss establishing a relational ecology among children, fellow animals, and nature.

I look forward to learning and growing with all of you. Until next time!

References

brown, a. m. (2017). Emergent strategy: Shaping change, changing worlds. AK Press. 

Martusewicz, R. A., Edmundson, J., & Lupinacci, J. (2021). Ecojustice education: Toward diverse, democratic, and sustainable communities. Routledge, Taylor & Francis Group.

McClaugherty, C. (2010, January 30). Buds in Winter. Alliance Review. https://www.the-review.com/story/news/2010/01/30/buds-in-winter/19259813007/?gnt-cfr=1&gca-cat=p&gca-uir=true&gca-epti=z113401e111460v113401d--34--b--34--&gca-ft=134&gca-ds=sophi

Taimur, S., & Ross, K. (2023). Transformative learning. Handbook Transdisciplinary Learning, 391-400.

Web of Life (2021). U.S. Department of the Interior. National Parks Service. https://www.nps.gov/