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When school funding runs low, professional learning is often the first thing to go. And every time it happens, I want to ask — do we realize what we’re actually cutting?
Because when we invest in educators, we are investing twice — once in the teacher, and again in every student they will ever reach. You cannot expect inspired classrooms if you starve inspiration at the source. Professional learning isn’t a luxury. It’s where teachers rediscover curiosity, gather new tools, and feel seen, encouraged, and reminded that their work matters. And here’s the truth we don’t say loudly enough: teachers who feel valued teach differently. They show up with more patience, more creativity, more joy, and more belief in their students. Being loved and taught by someone who feels loved and valued themselves? That is priceless. That is the foundation of student success. I also hate that politics get tangled in this. Supporting educators should never be partisan. It’s human. It’s community. It’s the future. If schools can’t fund professional learning — and many truly can’t right now — then it’s time for corporations, foundations, and community partners to step forward. So where are those new funders? Raise your hand — we would love to talk with you. Because pouring into teachers is pouring into children is pouring into the world we’re building next. And that’s an investment worth making.
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I realized the other day that I’ve been picking a "word" for the start of the year since 1994—the year after Katie was born. Looking back at that list is like looking at a map of my life. Some of those years were great, full of energy and "big" moments. Others were just... hard. I remember the year after my mom died so suddenly, my word was Recovering. Honestly, that was all I had the strength to do back then.
The tradition isn't always pretty. I’ve had years where I had to repeat a word because I clearly wasn't finished with it yet, or years where a single word wasn't enough and I needed a whole phrase. But looking at them all together, they tell the story of how I’ve grown, hit some walls, healed, and just kept going. This year, the word I’m landing on is Rooted. I’ve been thinking a lot about what I’ve learned from the Redwoods. They don't survive the centuries just because they’re big or tall. The real secret is that their roots spread out and actually tangle together. They literally hold each other up through the storms. That image has really stayed with me. This season of my life isn't about "doing more" or "reaching higher." It’s about holding on deeper to what—and who—actually matters. In my own family, being rooted means a lot less rushing. It’s about staying at the table a little longer for a conversation, making room for more laughs, and protecting time that doesn’t have to be "productive" to be important. It’s about being a steady place for the little ones and honoring the people who came before us. To me, it just feels like belonging. This year, I want to grow "down" instead of just stretching myself thin. I want to lean into the work I’m already doing and the people I’m so lucky to serve. Growth doesn’t always have to be something people can see from the outside. Sometimes it’s just the quiet work—the invisible courage, the steady commitment, and the love that keeps every branch of my life strong. I’m heading into 2026 rooted in memory, in hope, and in the person I’m still becoming. Together, we spent time in one spot—learning that sometimes slowing down allows us to see and feel more. We explored how the Colorado River carved the canyon over millions of years, examined rock layers that hold Earth’s story, and reflected on how people—past and present—have lived, traveled, prayed, and found meaning here. Through Ranger RisingBuffalo’s stories, students learned that this place is not only shaped by geology, but by relationships, memory, and care. Ranger RisingBuffalo invited students into an important mission: Design a way for all people to safely and respectfully experience this one place—without harming the land and while honoring the people connected to it. More than a design challenge, this became a moment of connection. Ranger RisingBuffalo touched us all with his stories, his kindness, and his encouragement to truly see one another—to understand that our stories are connected, that places hold memory, and that when we take time to listen, we begin to know each other as humans first. He reminded us how important it is to remember these stories and carry them forward with respect and care. We were honored to share this meaningful virtual experience with students across the country and grateful for the reminder that learning happens best when we slow down, listen, and connect. This season, something pretty magical happened.
More than 15,000 students gathered—classrooms buzzing, screens glowing, curiosity wide open—to join their ranger friends from across the country for Holiday in the PARKS: Season 6, hosted live from Pearce Elementary School in North Carolina. Together, we celebrated 19 national park sites and learned alongside 27 incredible rangers, park staff, and volunteers who brought winter to life in the most creative and engaging ways imaginable. From snowy mountain landscapes to coastal shores shaped by cold winds and shorter days, students explored how people, wildlife, and entire ecosystems adapt when winter settles in. They investigated how snow, ice, and darkness shape daily life in different parks. They listened to stories of winter traditions, seasonal survival skills, and celebrations rooted deeply in place. And they considered an important question together: What does it mean to explore and protect our national parks during the coldest season of the year? And then—because learning is even better when students get to do—they became designers. Engineering with Heart and Purpose As part of our Engineering Design Challenge, students stepped into the role of park planners, imagining accessible and sustainable park features that make national park sites easier for everyone to enjoy. Their designs showed something powerful: stewardship isn’t just about protecting land—it’s about caring for people too. Thoughtful accessibility strengthens parks, communities, and the future of these treasured places. The joy, creativity, and curiosity from students was unmistakable. Every ranger talk sparked questions. Every park shared a story. And every classroom reminded us why this work matters. We are deeply grateful to our partners at the National Park Foundation for their continued collaboration and belief in bringing the parks to students everywhere. If you missed it—or want to relive the magic—you can watch the full archive here: 👉 https://www.crossingamerica.net/holidayintheparksllivestream-120012-720639-725207.html Holiday in the PARKS isn’t just an event. It’s a reminder that no matter where students live, the parks are theirs—in every season. After a long 43 days, our hearts are full. 💛🌎
We are beyond grateful that our incredible park rangers and public lands staff will finally be able to return to the work they love—protecting, preserving, interpreting, and caring for the places that mean so much to all of us. Their passion fuels everything we do. And now, because they are back, we can continue our mission of connecting national parks to classrooms across the country. From livestreams to hands-on science, storytelling, and educator experiences, none of it is possible without the men and women who steward these precious places. We’ve missed them. Students have missed them. And the world needs them. Here’s to stepping forward again—together. To changing the world one connection at a time. To inspiring young people to be curious, compassionate, and good humans. To honoring our rangers and the lands they protect. Let’s get back to it. 🌲✨ #NationalParks #Education #PublicLands #ExpeditionsInEducation #Gratitude #ConnectingClassroomsToParks Yesterday’s Crossing America LiveStream brought students and educators together from across the country to explore how wildlife moves, migrates, and thrives in one of America’s most breathtaking landscapes.
A heartfelt thank-you to the National Park Foundation for making experiences like this possible. Their support helps us connect classrooms to parks, science to storytelling, and curiosity to conservation. We’re so grateful to our partners at Grand Teton National Park, the Grand Teton Association, and the American Conservation Experience (ACE) for sharing their passion and expertise. Special thanks to Cadence Truchot, Tribal Community Engagement Fellow with ACE, and Zach Gorski, Education Associate with Grand Teton Association, for helping us bring the Tetons to life for students everywhere. Check it out HERE! The trail has a way of reminding us what matters — patience, persistence, and perspective. Somewhere between the crunch of gravel underfoot and the whisper of wind through the trees, you start to see the rhythm of both nature and teaching: slow, steady, and full of small moments that add up to something lasting.
On the road, we’ve walked miles of trails — some winding through red canyons, others shaded by pines or softened by fog. And every single one has something to say about how we show up as educators. 1. Every Path Has Its Own Pace On the trail, there’s no rushing to the summit. You learn to move at the speed of wonder — noticing what’s blooming beside the path or what calls echo through the trees. In teaching, it’s the same. Every learner’s pace is different, and the journey matters as much as the destination. Growth isn’t measured in steps per minute, but in moments of discovery. 2. Preparation Matters, but So Does Flexibility You pack for rain and hope for sun. You bring maps, snacks, and maybe a little courage. Still, things rarely go exactly as planned. Classrooms, like trails, demand flexibility — the ability to adapt when lessons veer off course, or when a student’s unexpected question opens a new direction worth following. 3. Perspective Changes Everything Standing at a trail overlook, you realize how different the world looks from above — how distance reveals patterns you couldn’t see up close. The same is true in teaching. Reflection gives us perspective, helping us see students not just for who they are now, but for who they’re becoming. 4. Community Makes the Climb Easier No one conquers a hard trail alone. You share snacks, stories, and encouragement along the way. Teaching, too, is a collective hike — a journey better shared with colleagues, mentors, and friends who remind you that the work is lighter when carried together. 5. Beauty Lies in the Pauses Sometimes, the best part of the hike isn’t the view — it’s the quiet stop beside a stream or a conversation under a tree. Classrooms need those pauses too: time to breathe, to notice, to connect. Those moments become the ones students remember long after the test scores fade. Reflections from the Trail Every trail teaches us something about grace and growth. It reminds us that education, like nature, is cyclical — a series of seasons filled with renewal, reflection, and rediscovery. Teaching is not about arriving at a destination. It’s about walking alongside others — guiding, listening, and learning together. The trail continues to call us back, not for the view, but for the journey itself. :You don’t need a national park outside your classroom window to bring the outdoors in. Nature is everywhere — in the sound of rain, the curve of a leaf, and the questions your students are already asking. Whether you teach in a bustling city, a small-town school, or from behind a computer screen, connecting lessons to the natural world can spark curiosity, calm, and creativity.
The beauty of outdoor-inspired learning is that it doesn’t require perfect conditions — just a willingness to notice. When we bring a bit of nature into our lessons, we remind students that science, art, and wonder exist all around them. Here are five simple ways to bring nature into any lesson, any time of year. 1️⃣ Start with Observation Set aside five minutes to simply notice. Ask students to look out a window, step onto the playground, or close their eyes and listen. What do they hear? What patterns do they see? Observation builds curiosity — and curiosity builds scientists, artists, and writers. Try pairing this with a journal prompt: “What’s one thing in nature that changed today?” 2️⃣ Use Natural Materials in Lessons A pinecone can teach geometry. A leaf can inspire poetry. Pebbles can become math manipulatives or story starters. Bringing real objects into the classroom grounds abstract ideas in tangible experience — and engages every sense. 3️⃣ Make Nature Your Co-Teacher Before your next lesson, ask yourself: What would this look like outside? Could students measure tree shadows during math? Could you read under a tree or test wind direction during science? Even ten minutes of outdoor learning can shift the tone of a day — for students and teachers alike. 4️⃣ Connect Lessons to Local Landscapes Every place has a story — and every story connects to learning. Whether it’s a river nearby, a city garden, or a local park, invite students to learn about the ecosystems and communities around them. When students understand where they live, they begin to care for it. 5️⃣ Celebrate Curiosity Over Correctness Encourage questions, not just answers. The outdoors reminds us that learning is rarely tidy — it’s layered, living, and full of wonder. When students feel safe to ask, explore, and fail forward, the classroom becomes as alive as any forest trail. A Note for Educators Every year, we see teachers rediscover the joy of learning during our STEAM in the PARK programs — and it always starts with curiosity. Educators from across the country gather in national parks to explore, learn, and grow together through hands-on, place-based experiences that remind us why we teach. We’re thrilled to share that applications for Year 6 of STEAM in the PARK open on January 1st at steaminthepark.net. Whether you’ve joined us before or have been waiting for your chance to step into this community, this is your invitation to reignite your fire for teaching — surrounded by nature, colleagues, and wonder. National parks are living classrooms filled with mysteries waiting to be solved. From the flight of a heron to the layers of a canyon wall, each site reminds us that curiosity fuels discovery — in nature and in life.
When we enter a park, we become explorers. Every trail, tidepool, and tree holds a question waiting for someone brave enough to ask it. And when educators bring that spirit of curiosity into their classrooms, something shifts. Students start to see learning not as a task, but as an adventure. Here are ten lessons our national parks can teach us about the power of curiosity — for students, educators, and anyone willing to wonder. 1. Every question deserves a trailhead. Every hike begins with a starting point — and so does every question. The first “why?” or “how?” is an invitation to explore, not an endpoint. In the classroom, curiosity grows when we treat student questions like trail markers leading somewhere worth going. 2. Discovery takes time. A glacier doesn’t carve a valley in a day, and understanding doesn’t happen instantly. Parks remind us that patience is part of learning. Curiosity often lingers before it reveals something beautiful. 3. Wonder lives in the details. Look closely — at the veins of a leaf, the texture of a rock, or the way light dances across water. In noticing small details, we uncover big lessons. Observation fuels both science and imagination. 4. Every learner is an explorer. When students explore a trail or test a stream, they step into the role of scientist, artist, and storyteller. Parks show us that you don’t have to be an expert to be an explorer — you just have to be curious. 5. Failure is part of the adventure. Not every hike goes as planned. Sometimes the path floods, the map confuses, or the weather shifts. The same is true for learning. Parks remind us that detours and discoveries often share the same trail. 6. Curiosity connects generations. Ask a ranger, and they’ll tell you — every question leads to a story. When students ask about how a landscape formed or why a species matters, they’re connecting to centuries of science, culture, and care. Curiosity builds bridges between past, present, and future. 7. Wonder grows stronger when shared. A sunrise feels brighter when someone’s beside you. Curiosity thrives in community — through discussion, collaboration, and shared awe. The more voices that join the adventure, the richer the learning becomes. 8. Stewardship begins with curiosity. Before we can protect something, we have to care about it. And before we can care, we have to notice. When curiosity leads students to ask how ecosystems work or why species matter, they’re already taking their first steps toward stewardship. 9. Curiosity has no walls. Whether it’s a park, playground, or patch of grass outside a school, every place holds potential. The natural world invites students to see learning everywhere — not just on screens or within textbooks. 10. Curiosity changes us. Every person who’s stood beneath a redwood or paddled across a quiet lake knows this truth: curiosity doesn’t just help us learn — it helps us become. It changes how we see the world, and how we see ourselves in it. For Educators: A Call to Wonder: As teachers, you are the rangers of your own classrooms — guides who invite discovery, spark questions, and model wonder. When you pause to notice, to ask, to explore alongside your students, you give permission for curiosity to take root. So this week, take your students outside. Ask a question you don’t know the answer to. Follow a trail of “why.” Because every spark of curiosity — no matter how small — lights the path toward lifelong learning. The best lessons aren’t always found between four walls. Step beyond the classroom door, and the world opens into a living laboratory — where curiosity is not just encouraged, it’s unavoidable. The outdoors invites wonder, exploration, and connection in ways a worksheet never could.
For students, learning outside feels alive. It has color, texture, and sound. A math lesson becomes the rhythm of counting stones across a stream. Science becomes the study of cloud patterns and soil layers. Writing turns into storytelling inspired by the smell of pine or the ripple of a lake at sunrise. Nature doesn’t require perfection — it requires presence. But the real magic happens when educators step outside, too. We’ve met teachers who arrived at camp weary from testing schedules and heavy expectations, only to leave barefoot in the grass, notebook in hand, remembering why they started teaching in the first place. When learning moves outdoors, it’s not just students who change — it’s educators who rediscover their own sense of wonder. In nature, there are no rigid bells or rows of desks. There’s room for creativity, reflection, and collaboration. A stick becomes a measuring tool. A leaf inspires an art lesson on symmetry. A question whispered on a trail becomes the spark for inquiry that lasts all year. Teachers become guides, mentors, and fellow explorers — walking alongside their students instead of standing in front of them. At Expeditions in Education, we’ve watched hundreds of educators reconnect to their “why” through outdoor learning experiences across America’s national parks. They learn new ways to teach science through observation, storytelling through sound, and problem-solving through design. They sit by campfires swapping ideas, sharing fears, and realizing that joy and learning can live in the same space. And when they return home, they bring that spark back with them. Their classrooms feel lighter. Lessons breathe. Students sense the shift — that their teacher is not just instructing but inviting them into a story much bigger than a test score. Learning belongs outside because that’s where curiosity lives. It’s where questions are born and answers feel earned. It’s where both students and teachers remember that education isn’t about mastering content — it’s about noticing the world, caring for it, and finding your place within it. So, open the door. Step out. Let the wind carry your next lesson. The world is waiting — and it has so much to teach us all. 🌤 Reflection for Educators Where could your next classroom adventure begin? Maybe it’s a patch of grass behind your school, a city park down the street, or a quiet corner where students can listen to the wind. Wherever it is, that’s where learning — and joy — meet. |
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