Gaming, Taming, and Naming the Lion: Contradictions in Parenting for/With the More-Than-Human

• In Event: Roundtable Session 96
  In Roundtable Session: Try and Try Again: Reflections on the Uncertainties of Living Out an Ecological Ethic in Academe

Abstract

With a fire of anticipation in his eyes and a peal of laughter in the air, my son shouts, “Mama! Chase me!! You’re the LION!!!” Roaring loudly with outstretched hands I chase after him. Day after day, this game continues to be a favourite request of our son and his many friends and neighbours. When he tires of running, he tells me, “You’re a nice lion now. Don’t chase me,” as he snuggles up close so that his (pretend) baby bird can play with the lion.

In addition to fun and good exercise, this game brings me, as an environmental educator, a sense of unease. Thinking of Sobel’s (2005) work, I cannot help but notice that we live in a place where there are no lions. The lions my son refers to are those he has learned about via children’s books, toys, games, and music that frequently portray anthropomorphized, objectified, exotic megafauna as their protagonists (Timmerman & Ostertag, in press). Besides our lion chase game being disconnected from the place we live, it is fraught with convoluted notions of more-than-human subjectivity from a three-year-old trying to learn, a mother stumbling to provide answers, and a culture deeply immersed in oppressive relationships with the more-than-human (Abram, 1996; Plumwood, 1999). When my son interprets animals who roar, chase, and eat you as “mean” and those that do not as “nice,” he goes beyond an instinctual urge to protect himself, speaking also to the animal’s character, worth, and subjectivity. This is dangerous playing ground, where, on the one hand, my son is learning about who he is in the world through his own interpretations of the more-than-human (Fawcett, 1989; Shepard, 1996). On the other hand, at only three-years-old, his projections verge on the demonization of animals who eat meat, disclosing and early tendency to exempt and separate human behaviour in relation to nonhuman animal behaviour. As a parent and environmental educator, how do I respond? This example is reflective of the myriad challenges environmental educators face in attempting to translate environmental education theory and ecological philosophy into their daily lives (Evernden, 1993; Russell, 2005).

Departing from my personal stories of struggle, the objective of this presentation is to reflect specifically on parents as children’s first environmental educators and the challenges this role entails. To define these challenges and the goals of education, I draw on ecofeminist and place-based educational frameworks (Berry, 1990; Gruenewald, 2008; Jackson, 1994; Merchant, 2005; Plumwood, 1999). These frameworks are then compared to personal, narrative evidence gathered through a process of living inquiry (Hart, 2002; Richardson, 1997). Despite the uncertainties and contradictions many parents face, I argue in this paper that connection, reciprocity, respect, and responsibility toward/with the more-than-human must be taught through parental modeling and immersion in healthy community and place-based educational experiences. As Jardine (1998) reminds us, “The possibility of touching the Earth, this attunement, is rooted (perhaps also uprooted) early in life” (p. 87).

Author

• Nora Timmerman, The University of British Columbia