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Let Your Passion Show

27 Dec

Ethan Rotman

We often feel being “professional” requires being sterile—keeping emotion and passion out of our work and out of our talks. Yet heartfelt stories of personal tragedy, drama, discovery, loss, and triumph are universal experiences that help build rapport with audiences.

Audiences feed off enthusiasm, passion, desire, and confidence. Share these with your audience; allow your audience to feel the exuberance you have for your work. Share with them the struggles and accomplishments that have brought you to where you are today.

A good story from the heart can result in the entire audience being silent and rapt with attention. Audiences love stories—more so when they include human drama. All ears will be on you and there will be few, if any, side conversations or other distracting behaviors.

You have a reason for doing the work you do. You chose to be here. Use this reason to help get your point across. If you have a compelling story of why you do what you do, share it.

This is the meaning behind your work; it is what brought you here. This story will be a stronger motivator than mere product information. When you tell personal stories, your audience will want to listen. They will lean forward, and the room will fill with silence—a complete silence that allows each of your words to land strongly in the ears of your listener. Your audience will feel you are real and will want to support you or your business.

If you have a heartfelt true story, tell it. If you are excited about your topic, show it. If you have a belief, share it. Make yourself vulnerable. Tell your audience who you really are; they will admire and respect you for it.

Fill your talks with passion and emotion. Use your stories to captivate your audience and help them understand why you do what you do. They will then be more likely to listen to you and to follow your suggestions.

This speaking tip is one is a series provided by iSpeakEASY. Visit www.iSpeakEASY.net for more tips and articles. Contact Ethan Rotman directly at 415-342-7106.

 
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A Matter of Trust: The Making of ‘Abraham Lincoln: A Journey to Greatness’

21 Dec

Timothy P. Townsend

The opportunity to produce a new interpretive film in the National Park Service doesn’t come up very often. So when Lincoln Home National Historic Site was provided with the funds for a new film, we were excited about the project but at the same time conscious of the importance of what we were undertaking. We had one shot at this and whatever the final product, it would be shown for years to come to hundreds of thousands of visitors. We knew that this film would be around for a while because it was replacing a film that was produced in 1976. We were going to produce a digital, high-definition film to replace one that was shown on a 16mm film tree. (Thank goodness for both the opening of the high-tech Abraham Lincoln Presidential Museum several blocks away and a Lincoln bicentennial to help get our need noticed and funded!)

This posted promoted Lincoln Home National Historic Site’s interpretive film Abraham Lincoln: A Journey to Greatness, which premiered in February 2009, just in time for the Lincoln bicentennial.

Lincoln Home National Historic Site preserves and interprets the Springfield home of Abraham Lincoln. It is the home that he, his wife Mary, and nine-month-old son Robert moved into in the spring of 1844 and where they lived for the next 17 years. It is the home that saw the birth of their next three sons, Eddie, Willie, and Tad. And it is the place where three-year-old Eddie died of tuberculosis. It was where Lincoln lived while earning a living as a successful attorney. It was where he lived during the famous Lincoln-Douglas debates of 1858; where he lived when he gave his famous Cooper Union Speech in New York; where the Republican Party informed Lincoln, in May 1860, that he was their candidate for the presidency; and, where president-elect Lincoln was when South Carolina seceded from the Union. The Lincoln home itself is restored to the 1860 time period and contains a mix of original and period artifacts throughout the two-story house. Lincoln Home National Historic Site contains 14 historic structures that surround the Lincoln home, evoking the Lincoln time period for visitors.

One challenge in telling the story of Abraham Lincoln in Springfield is deciding which story to tell. Do we present the story of Lincoln the family man? Lincoln the lawyer? Lincoln the politician? President-elect Lincoln on the eve of civil war? And, if we try to combine any or all of those elements, how do we do it within the time allotted for a typical visitor center orientation film? Our 2004 long-range interpretive plan provided some guidance, including our interpretive themes, but no specifics:

The goal of this 15-minute program will be to inspire, excite, and motivate visitors to the very personal connections between Lincoln the man, his family, home, community, and belief system as they relate to major events in America’s history.

In Mr. Lincoln’s Springfield, a photographer played by Stuart Germain tells viewers about Lincoln’s hometown.

An inquiry of our staff was helpful, but still brought a variety of responses based upon the areas of the Lincoln story that most interested them. Ultimately, the solution lay in developing a rule of thumb that helped in a variety of instances throughout the film project. Consult the experts, then trust the process! We were fortunate in our project to have the benefit of the expertise of the staff of the National Park Service’s Harpers Ferry Center, the office that produces and/or coordinates most media projects for the National Park Service. Harpers Ferry Center managed the film contract, which included providing a list of filmmakers that had already been vetted through their indefinite quantities contract process. Harpers Ferry Center staff spent many hours reviewing proposals and submittals from many filmmakers who wanted to be on the National Park Service “IDIQ” list. So, who are we, as historic site staff with no particular background in film making, to question the abilities of the experts who have been determined to be the best in their field? Through guidance from our Midwest Regional Office and Harpers Ferry we selected an excellent filmmaker.

We then provided the filmmaker with a great deal of background material on Lincoln in Springfield and, with our guidance—including our interpretive themes, etc.—we had them develop a film plan that they felt could be accomplished within the given time frame and within the available budget, and that would be compelling to the visitor. The filmmakers had two advantages: They knew how to make a compelling film and they were not Lincoln experts. They knew what a “non-Lincoln” person would be interested in because they were in that group. It is relatively easy to reach an audience who already appreciates Lincoln; we need to reach those who don’t. For that reason, you probably would prefer not to have a Lincoln historian make a Lincoln film. Serve as a consultant, yes; drive the story, perhaps not. While there were certainly some back-and-forth discussions on elements of the story, we ended up for the most part with the outline they envisioned. We also avoided the pitfall of wanting to primarily tell the story of the place that we manage, the Lincoln home, to the possible exclusion of a better broader Lincoln story, a story that more visitors could connect to. And, ultimately, visitors will connect more to the Lincoln home if they can better connect to Lincoln. The final product was a film that told a balanced, multifaceted story of Lincoln in Springfield.

In a Lincoln-Douglas debate scene from Abraham Lincoln: A Journey to Greatness, Stephen A. Douglas was played by Rick Dunham and Abraham Lincoln was played by Fritz Klein.

Letting the filmmakers ply their craft freely wasn’t always easy, however. The trick for us was to know when to step in to make some corrections and when to remain silent for the sake of the story. For example, does it really matter that, in a scene showing Eddie’s death, the wallpaper design in the background is a little too late for that time period? Or is it the feel of the room and the emotion of the scene that is most important? We kept quiet on the wallpaper issue. In staging the Lincoln-Douglas debate, the filmmaker wanted to show a “historic” building in the background because it “looked better.” We knew that the building was too modern, that in most cases the debates were held in open areas, and that this change was relatively easy. We held firm on that issue.

Another consideration on this project was limitations due to budget constraints. On February 11, 1861, Lincoln gave his famous farewell speech to the citizens of Springfield. In 2007, because we could only afford one trip to Springfield for filming, our Lincoln gave his speech in August. The result was a rather green leafy February in our film. We were able to “hide August” somewhat thanks to the magic of computer graphics, which populated the scene with buildings to mask some of the leafy trees and grass, but not all. Again, the ultimate goal was a portrayal of Lincoln’s emotional farewell to Springfield on his way to the presidency.

While we let the filmmakers tell the story, we ensured that the film was reflective of current scholarship and interpretation, in this case, interpretation of antebellum American society and the causes of the Civil War. This was certainly one of the areas in which our old film really looked old. Our 1976 film, Mr. Lincoln’s Springfield, was set in Springfield just after Lincoln’s election and features a “photographer” who takes us into the Lincoln home and around Springfield, and while taking photos, describes the Lincoln family and the Springfield community that they live in. In his description of Springfield, the photographer summarizes Springfield’s African-American community in only four sentences.

Just down the street is Jessie Jenkins’ place. His wife takes in laundry, he drives the dray wagon. He took the Lincolns to the depot when they left. Then there’s William Floureville, he, like Jessie, is black.

And, while someone viewing the film would learn about Lincoln’s family, see his home, and know that he was elected to the presidency, the viewer does not get even the slightest indication that there was a growing national crisis over slavery, that it was that issue that propelled Lincoln to the White House and the nation to war.

In the new film, we mention the diversity of Springfield but leave a more in-depth discussion of that to our exhibits and other media. We do devote a good deal of film time to the national issues and debate over slavery. We have a scene from the 1858 Lincoln-Douglas debates that illustrates the extreme views of the nation through the use of Stephen A. Douglas’s more inflammatory rhetoric about the place of African Americans in the nation.

I hold that a negro is not and never ought to be a citizen of the United States. I hold that this government was made on the white basis, by white men, for white men and their posterity forever.

There was some hesitation about inclusion of this line in the film—namely a concern that some in the audience might take offense. A problem of past National Park Service media such as exhibits and films was the sanitation of certain elements of history for the sake of visitors’ sensitivity. National Park Service media at historic sites and museums now include uncomfortable chapters of the past to tell a better, more accurate, and more compelling story.

Ultimately, the success of our film, Abraham Lincoln: A Journey to Greatness, can be largely attributed to open dialogue, trust, and true partnerships with the filmmaker, the local community, and the National Park Service community in every step of the filmmaking process, from location scouting to final editing. We hope that this film doesn’t have to be shown for as many years as its predecessor did, but if it does, we think that the visitor will be well informed and entertained.

Timothy P. Townsend is a historian at the Lincoln Home National Historic Site. Contact him at tim_townsend@nps.gov.

 

Tasteful Interpretation: Relevant and Timely

15 Dec

Wren Smith

The time is right (or ripe) for our interpretive efforts to tap into the consciousness coalescing around locally produced food, food safety, nutrition, heirloom produce, sustainable practices, community gardens, edible landscapes, farmers markets, and community celebrations. Since plants are at the core of our food chain and central to this emerging dialogue, our sense of taste provides an important pathway to building interpretive programs that tastefully nurture community while linking us with new partners and audiences that can help us protect the resources we cherish.

Heirloom vegetables and flowers grace the Tinsley House gardens at the Museum of the Rockies.

Farmers markets are abuzz with families connecting with nature through their association with the farmers and gardeners who usually provide more than fresh local produce. They swap stories, food samples, recipes, and smiles. I’ve noticed lots of smiles at farmers markets, and many “ums” and “yums” as folks sample slices of blood red brandywines and peach-colored melons, the juice of these treats running down chins. There is a bit of a clamor and a new urgency around food and its production. This is due in part to our desire to counter the trend in the rates of obesity and diet-induced diabetes in this country. It may be a desire for more authentic experiences—experiences that call forth something new in us—new ways of seeing, being, or perhaps thinking about the food we eat and asking more questions. Where does it come from, and from how far away? Has it been genetically modified, and if so, do I care or should I care? Some of the urgency may be the fact that some of the old-timers who can teach us how to grow and maintain organic fruit and other more challenging produce are passing away.

Whatever the reason, interest in linking more directly with our food is definitely on the rise. According to a USDA website, the number of farmers markets in the U.S. has grown from 1,755 in 1994 to 5,274 as of mid-2009.

Resources are Growing a Movement
Programs such as Growing a Green Generation, Wisconsin’s Fast Plants, The Farm to School Network, and the Slow Foods movement, as well as organizations like Louisville’s Food Literacy Project and 15 Thousand Farmers, are springing up like multiplier onions. These programs and organizations provide new partnership opportunities and potential for making our message relevant to new audiences. Books such as Barbara Kingsolver’s Animal, Vegetable, Miracle and Michael Pollan’s Omnivore’s Dilemma and In Defense of Food have helped nourish the growth of this greening food movement. The Edible Communities publications from The Edible Communities Inc. (ECI) have become a standard-bearer for the local foods movement in many cities. Like other Edible publications, Edible Louisville provides recipes and stories that highlight local farmers, gardeners, and others in the community that are finding new (and old) ways to celebrate our connection with the land and live more responsibly. Many nature centers, gardens, arboreta, and historic sites are digging in and providing festivals that celebrate the edible offerings of the seasons while helping visitors make connections between our food choices and the ecology of place.

Autumn Root Soup celebrations are remembered and celebrated anew each spring in the “spritely” daffodils.

Four years ago Thomas Jefferson’s beloved Monticello became the site of the annual Heritage Harvest Festival sponsored by the Southern Seed Exchange. This family-oriented program now attracts thousands and highlights organic and traditional agriculture and regional foods, including tasting sessions, workshops, and talks. Near the town of Mansfield, Missouri, what started as a garden festival in 1998 has grown into the region’s monthly Big Garden Festival sponsored by Baker Creek Heirloom Seeds.

In many states, programs like Maryland’s Master Gardeners are playing a significant role interpreting the importance of food plants in a campaign called Grow it, Eat it. The mission of this campaign is “to help Marylanders improve health and save money by growing fresh vegetables, fruits, and herbs using sustainable practices.” One of the stated goals of this campaign is to teach intensive, low-cost, sustainable growing techniques that maximize food production per area, protect and improve natural resources, and improve human health. Surely many interpretive sites would find partnership opportunities within such goals.

Edible Plants Connect Us with History and Ecology
Last August I visited the Living History Farm at the Museum of the Rockies, where they grow varieties of vegetables and flowers that were commercially available from 1890 to 1905. I was impressed not only by the beauty of the heirloom gardens but by the friendly costumed volunteers cooking in the Victorian-era log cabin known as the Tinsley House. It is clear from the garden displays and from talking with volunteers and staff that they want visitors to experience daily life from this time period as well as learn stories behind the plants growing there. The opportunity to smell a simmering pot of beans or a chance to taste old varieties of tomatoes certainly make the experience more memorable. The gift shop sells many of the seeds grown and gathered from their gardens and this provides funding for purchasing more heirloom seeds each season. The seeds also help people plant a living link with the region’s history. In my home state of Kentucky, staff of the 1890s farm in the Land Between the Lakes understands the importance of “tasteful” interpretation. Visitors are frequently greeted by the sights, sounds, and warming fragrances emanating from the cabin’s fireplace, where farm vegetables are transformed into fragrant and tasteful experiences.

Growing and gathering foods from the garden or from the wild can help us be more aware of our relationships with the wider community of life. For months my garden has been decked out each morning with the shimmering webs of the giant yellow garden spiders catching their breakfast while I gather mine. Since I started keeping bees, I’m more attentive to plants that produce food for “my girls.” Surely those asters and goldenrod growing by the fence will provide my bees (and the lovely native bees) with pollen and nectar.

An interest in harvesting or growing plants for food can help us be more attentive to what’s growing in and out of our gardens. This past April instead of hosting another invasive plants workshop, Bernheim Arboretum offered a three-hour Eat-a-Weed workshop to a full house! This workshop armed visitors with information on destructive invasive species, and provided visitors with something practical they could do to help control weeds: Eat them!

Plants Quench Our Thirst to Connect
Many communities grow crops and produce beverages that satisfy our thirst for authentic connections with places. The roadside stands selling ciders and fresh orange juice signify the seasons and may help us celebrate the genius loci when we travel. Some regions specialize in crafting distinctive beer or wine. In my community of Bardstown, Kentucky, bourbon is “boss” and provides opportunities to partner with distilleries linked with the region’s Bourbon Trail. In fact, Isaac W. Bernheim, founder of the Bernheim Arboretum and Research Forest, made his fortune in the bourbon industry and created Bernheim Forest with portions of that fortune. Maps and tours linking these local beverages provide opportunities to take a more spirited approach to our interpretive programs and offerings. Visitors sampling local beverages are open to experiencing these in the context of the local history, resources, and community and this provides opportunities to link resources, messages, and connect with new audiences.

In conclusion
Plants are primary in our exploration of food and can help us understand history and ecological relationships, and make our stories relevant, more enjoyable, and maybe even more digestible. Real food nourishes on many levels and this knowledge is catching on! Administrators, marketers, and interpreters who ignore this trend may miss opportunities for growing sustainable and new audiences.

For More Information
Kingsolver, Barbara, Camille Kingsolver, and Steven L. Hopp. 2007. Animal, Vegetable, Miracle. New York: HarperCollins.

Pollan, Michael. 2006. The Omnivore’s Dilemma: A Natural History of Four Meals. New York: Penguin Press.

Pollan, Michael 2008. In Defense of Food: An Eater’s Manifesto. New York: Penguin Press.

Websites & Organizations
Edible Communities. www.ediblecommunities.com/content

The Farm to School Network. www.farmtoschool.org

Slow Foods International. www.slowfood.com

Growing Healthy Kids. www.foodsecuritypartners.org/growing-healthy-kids

Wren Smith is the interpretive programs manager for Bernheim Arboretum and Research Forest in Kentucky. Reach her at 502-955-8512, x227 or Wren@bernheim.org.

 
 

Still an Interpreter: Just Without a Visitor Center

09 Dec

Stephanie R. Lewis

A storyteller uses whatever method is available and relevant.

On paper, I am a television producer. But my job at the Arkansas Educational Television Network (AETN) entails much more than leading a production crew. I am tasked with researching a subject, creating a project around it, and deciding what formats would best convey the information. Sound familiar?

Textbooks tend to lose their audiences rather quickly, especially when those audiences are tech-savvy and want more visual information. For the sake of keeping students, and sometimes teachers, from nodding off in third-period history class, I get to interpret Arkansas’s past and present by producing videos and virtual tours for those classrooms. Long gone are the days of the old frame-by-frame, crank-it-yourself filmstrip. Documentaries and instructional presentations that are broadcast or streamed online make learning more enjoyable and easily consumed.

Video

Arkansas’s First People features an interview with a Choctaw Nation elder in Antlers, Oklahoma. Courtesy of Arkansas Educational Television Network

In public television and some cable networks, video featuring curriculum-based subjects is created specifically for education and scheduled outside of the primetime lineup meant for the general public. These schedules, usually overnight, allow for odd lengths in programming, like 10- or 15-minute clips on whatever subject fits with a teacher’s lesson plan.

One of my first projects for AETN was a series of classroom video clips, funded in part by the Arkansas Environmental Federation (AEF), eventually named “Environmental Educator’s Book.” I worked with scientists, business people, and one teacher, but I had to guard against losing sight of my audience, middle school students. That age group has enough complexity in its collective life without having to memorize dry statistics about water, air, recycling, and energy. So, animation seemed like a good format.

AETN and AEF wanted videos that would be fun and colorful, short and informative. Each clip has a character or characters who explain what the subjects are and why a teenager should care. The animation is mixed with live-action video so that the realism doesn’t get lost. The resulting clips are different lengths and teacher’s guides are available.

Arkansas’s First People’s chief videographer Chuck Durham shoots video of an Osage Nation storefront in Pawhuska, Oklahoma. Courtesy of Arkansas Educational Television Network

Long-form video projects are an interpretive challenge. Unlike an interpretive talk, where each time you present, you can tweak something and improve, video is concrete. You have one chance at telling the story. Once it’s fixed in the final edit, that’s it. Like a lot of things, there are the “would’ve, should’ve, could’ve” moments. Suddenly, you realize that a particular emphasis or image would make the video much better. Maybe lack of time or budget prevented those additions. On the other hand, the video that was created will probably be seen by thousands of people.

Virtual Tours
The Internet has really enhanced interpreting to the masses. Virtual tours can be a primer for a visit to a site, an electronic field trip, or both. For a teacher, this is invaluable. Lesson plans benefit from the addition of images and information. The school’s budget may benefit from giving students the chance to experience a place without having to spend money on transportation. For the park or museum, its services are being utilized and in the future, the site might be visited when school funds are available.

The first virtual tour I had the pleasure of working on was about the Little Rock Central High segregation crisis. The project became a website, not just a virtual tour. Touring a Time: Little Rock Central High School 1957 Crisis features what is now the former visitor center, the high school campus, as well as the neighborhood, timeline, key players, historic images, and documents. The site is linked to the Little Rock Central High School National Historic Site lesson plan page through the National Park Service.

The original idea for the virtual tour was to provide a glimpse into the past with words and images. There is no video involved. The narrative in some areas reflects the vernacular of the time. Students’ thoughts are shared through journalism class assignments. Propaganda examples show the tension in the community. Each biographical sketch has a notation of where each of the Little Rock Nine ended up after 1957. This is the closest to living history as a producer can get without donning a costume.

Courses
Teachers are required to have a specific number of professional development credit hours. My job is centered on providing course video for Arkansas teachers via Arkansas Internet Delivered Education for Arkansas Schools (Arkansas IDEAS). Recently, it has evolved into building courses with video, assessment questions, and any other materials that would enhance the subject. At first glance, this may not sound like interpreting, but it is. The courses are transferred to the students either by a teacher improving his or her skills or by literally using the course elements in classroom lesson plans.

Arkansas’s First People is a good example of a course. This project began as a grant application on its way to the garbage can until a coworker, who knew of my interest in Native cultures, rescued it and brought it to me. I made my case for applying for the grant and completing the project as a course. There was an absence of extensive material in Arkansas history classes regarding indigenous people. I received permission to apply. Three of us formed a grant team, applied, and received one of 15 positions in the “American Experience: We Shall Remain Native History of America Community Coalitions Initiative.”

Arkansas’s First People would include five half-hour videos centering on various time periods, a website, virtual tours, resource links, outreach events, an exhibit, and assessments. AETN would provide these elements with the guidance of a coalition of experts—and I knew that didn’t mean some books and a historian. I contacted the modern nations of the American Indian tribes who impacted what is now known as Arkansas. The majority of nations responded and allowed us to visit their Oklahoma headquarters. Also on the list of invited experts were the Arkansas Archeological Survey, Arkansas State Parks, Arkansas Tech University Museum, Historic Arkansas Museum, Sequoyah National Research Center, American Indian Center of Arkansas, Trail of Tears Association, and the University of Arkansas Museum Collection. All of these organizations would have some part in the completion of this massive, delicate project.

As I looked at the scope of Arkansas’s First People, I thought back to my two seasons as an interpreter at Toltec Mounds Archeological State Park. Two things stood out: These are stories to be handled with the utmost respect, and information should come from as close to the original source as possible.

When you are interpreting a site, you work diligently on your presentations, whether they are print, audio-visual, or first-person. You do careful research and craft the story with respect. You typically know your audience.

To interpret for mass media, you work diligently on your presentations, perform careful research, and craft the story with respect. You don’t always know your audience when the stories you are attempting to tell are fractured by scattered documentation, mishandling, and bias. These stories aren’t your own. This seemingly ancient history still impacts the living. An American Indian author friend of mine told me to stick to the basic principles I learned at Toltec. Arkansas’s First People resulted in all the elements promised in the grant application and was also edited into a 90-minute broadcast documentary. No project has had more of an impact on me as a producer or interpreter.

Pros and Cons
There are two downsides to being a television producer and not a frontline interpreter: Your audiences don’t get to have a tactile experience with what you produced as they would if they visited a site, and you typically don’t get to meet your audience. On the positive side, you produced something that can be seen multiple times and at the audience’s convenience.

I used to think that I wasn’t an interpreter because I wasn’t at a park. Then thanks to my former Toltec Mounds Archeological State Park co-worker Shea Lewis, I thought better of it. During production of Arkansas’s First People, he said, “I can’t wait to see the end product. You know you are still an interpreter, just on TV!”

Stephanie R. Lewis is an education producer at the Arkansas Educational Television Network and a freelance writer/photographer. She can be reached at srlewis@hotmail.com.

 

An Inconvenience

03 Dec

Kirk Carter Mona

Last Father’s Day weekend I packed up the car with my son, wife, and dog and we hit the road for Wisconsin to visit my in-laws. Being a birder, I had a secret agenda; there’s always a secret agenda for birders. I wanted to revisit a park in the backwaters of the Mississippi River that had repelled me away a year earlier when I’d come unprepared for the onslaught of mosquitoes. As best as I could figure, the park contained at least eight bird species that had yet to be added to my life list. Saturday morning, I set out for the park while the rest of the family headed to garage sales. Alone in the woods, I hiked down the old gravel trail. My slow pace would have driven a non-birder crazy. My ears picked out every bird call as I crept along and led my eyes to their hidden forms. Here’s a common yellowthroat near that wetland, there’s a yellow warbler in the trees. That’s a song sparrow in the bushes. What are those crows calling at in the distance? Ah, now I hear the red-shouldered hawk they are chasing.

It was a gorgeous day. The wind was just strong enough to ground most of the mosquitoes and the sun was shining in the sky. I’d hiked about a mile down the trail and had just added an indigo bunting to my daily bird tally when I came upon something unexpected: water. There’s a lot of water in this park. There are six large bridges crossing backwaters and streams of the Black River, but this water was covering the trail directly ahead of me. I suddenly remembered that on the previous Thursday we’d had huge storms passing through the region. There were reports of 35 tornadoes in Minnesota. That same massive line of storms dumped over three inches of water on the park. The crushed limestone trail dipped down below a pool of brown, tannin-rich water.

I have to admit my first thought was to turn back. “Wait a minute,” I thought. “I’m a naturalist!” There only appeared to be six inches or so of water and the trail resumed again 20 feet away. No problem. I stripped off my shoes and socks and waded into the cold water. I had to move slowly as my tender feet felt their way along the rocky bottom. The bright side of walking on sharp, crushed limestone was that at least my feet weren’t going to be muddy on the other side.

Successfully crossing the water, I put my socks and shoes back on and kept on hiking, all the while ticking off species of birds. I knew most people would have turned around so everything from here on out was my solo park. I was smiling as I hiked when I again came to a section of trail covered in water. Without much hesitation this time, I stripped my shoes and socks off and headed into the water. This time it was farther across and the water came up to my knees. On the other side, I tore one of my socks when I pulled too hard putting it back on my wet feet. Due to a packing error, it happened to be the only pair of socks I’d brought all weekend. Oh well, such is life. I hiked on until I came to the third place the trail disappeared under the water. This time, the sun was behind some clouds and I really couldn’t tell how deep the water was. I was also keenly aware that for every water crossing I made I’d have to repeat it on the way back. I had no idea how many more crossings there would be.

“Enough with this shoe and sock nonsense,” I thought. I hiked up my jeans and plunged into the water with my shoes still attached. I was pretty sure that was a mistake from about the second step. The one thing I was happy about was the extra height my shoes gave me. I’m six feet tall but the water was still just above my knees. I hiked on, watching birds and sloshing in my wet shoes. I made yet another water crossing and enjoyed myself until hunger and my watch told me I had to turn around. By the time I got to the car an hour later my shoes were soaked and I’d added 13 species of birds I wouldn’t have seen had I turned around when the trail submerged under water. None of them were any of the eight “lifers” I had been hoping for but I’d had a great morning none the less.

There are times in interpretation that are like that moment standing at the edge of the water. Turning around is so easy, so seductive. What was really holding me back, wet shoes? In life and interpretation we’re often more cautious than we need to be for reasons that amount to nothing more than wet shoes.

Plunge through the interpretive waters. I can’t guarantee better birds on the other side, but make sure your obstacles are real, not something as silly as wet shoes.

Kirk Mona is the outreach coordinator for the Lee and Rose Warner Nature Center in Marine on St. Croix, Minnesota. He has been an NAI member since 1996. Kirk welcomes your comments at kmona@smm.org.