Second Nature: The disconnect with the outdoors

By Brian Carifio
Correspondent

May 15, 2008 05:59 am

What started as a discussion about a new car stereo being a considerable birthday present, quickly turned into several quips about life a generation or two ago. "I carried my horse uphill to school everyday, both ways", one co-worker joked. The memories flowed from one person to the next, until the final moments of the day sent us on our way home.

During the short drive my smile was replaced by an expression of concern as I realized that this generation is steadily becoming disconnected with the outdoors. My early days were spent with a baseball bat in hand, but a video game controller has become the tool for today's favorite pastime.

Several generations ago it was the norm to dump waste into waterways. There are sections behind Haverhill's downtown where pieces of leather are strewn across the shoreline of the Merrimack River, noticeable only when the tide recedes. The 200 shoe establishments in the city during the early 1900s bear part of the blame.

During that time of industrial growth many were unaware of the environmental impacts, so the following generation was left to clean up the remains. The federal government packed the books with a plethora of acts to clean up the environment during the 1970s and 1980s. A short drive along the same river shows water treatment plants in Haverhill, North Andover and Lowell built during that same period and a direct result of those legislative acts.

As populations grow and more open space is occupied, we must continue to increase the knowledge of future generations. The problem is the lack of awareness.

Think of a type of food you despise. What are the odds of you serving that food for dinner this evening to your children? If I am cooking tonight, there is no chance of beets being served.

So what are the odds that parents will introduce their offspring to fishing, hunting or wildlife photography, if they have no interest or knowledge themselves? See where I'm heading?

During my years in youth sports, a frequent source of frustration was when people complained, yet never came up with a solution. Yes, I am complaining, but I have a solution and I'm quite willing to take action.

When it comes to teaching my own family about the outdoors, I've taught my children to observe, learn about what they've observed and take pleasure in what they learn.

About four years ago my son and I were fishing on a pond in southern New Hampshire. I was using a jig, which can be difficult to use. My son was fishing a topwater lure with a good deal of success. Even though he had caught more fish than me, he insisted on trying a jig and put up a fuss when I advised him to stick with the topwater. As his ire increased, I finally gave in, anticipating my point being proven.

During his initial cast, with my parental comments chiming in the background, he set the hook on a nice largemouth bass. The smile on my face was one of pride, but I was positive his was a forecast for a lecture.

As we pulled the boat from the pond, he began his sermon. I don't remember the exact wording, but I will never forget the message. He had spent many mornings watching me fish a jig and just as many days listening to me speak about fishing a jig. And finally, he was able to take pleasure in what he had learned.

Now here is the deal and my part of working towards a solution.

Give me a call and I will teach you about nature and how to fish. If you are a kid reading this, show it to your parents. If you are a grandparent, tell your children and grandchildren. If you are a teacher or a scout leader, give me a ring. Come one, come all, learn a little and experience a lifetime of fun.

What is your end of the bargain?

The next time you are having beets for dinner, give me a call. I will drop my kids off at your house, because there is no chance of beets being served at my home.

Brian Carifio, a freelance columnist for The Haverhill Gazette, is general manager of Kimball Farm on East Broadway. He can be reached at 978-521-3990.

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Photos


Brian Carifio Staff photo