Leave Only Footprints?
How many footsteps make a path?
How many paths damage the habitat?
Achieving Educational Goals While Sustaining the Ecosystem of Vernal Pools.

by S. Abruzzi
Paul F. Doyon Memorial School, Ipswich, MA. 01938

Photos by A. Gregory and S. Abruzzi Paul F. Doyon Memorial School, Ipswich, MA 01938

Table of Contents:

• Introduction
• The vernal pool ecosystem
• Sense of wonder vs. sense of responsibility
• Balancing education with protection
• References

Keywords: vernal pool, boardwalk, environmental education, stewardship, constructivism, elementary science education

Introduction

On Big Night, no one seems to notice the pelting rain plummeting to the earth around him or the drops of water slowly dripping from the tip of her nose like a leaky faucet. Flashlights blink -- as fireflies do on a hot, humid summer evening -- and illuminate the darkness of the night. To an outsider who happens upon this circle of lights under the dense tree canopy, the scene looks as if it came from the Lord of the Rings. Upon closer inspection, one finds that the owners of these lights are not hobbit-like creatures, but are ten- and eleven- year-old children who have ventured out with their teachers to observe the annual migration of mole salamanders to breed in a vernal pool.

"I see one over here", slices the air. A chorus of "where" rings back, flashlights searching. The squishing of substrate is heard, then silence as students look down at a spotted salamander (Ambystoma maculatum) making its way into the pool. Yet, shine a light for a brief moment across these observers faces, and one will see eyes as large as those of great horned owls glowing with wonder and awe. Through the coldness one can feel the energy, the warmth, and the excitement.

The vernal pool ecosystem

In New England, vernal pools often begin to fill up in the fall, ice over in the winter, and reach peak water levels by early spring. Wood frogs (Rana sylvatica) and several species of salamanders, some of which are listed in Massachusetts as species of special concern or threatened species, use these "wicked big puddles" (Kenney 1995) to mate and deposit their eggs, and the larvae of these organisms depend upon vernal pools while they are developing into their adult forms. A third obligate creature that relies upon the vernal pools are fairy shrimp (Eubranchipus venalis and Eubranchipus intricatus). These small crustaceans swim ventral side up and range in color from light orange to deep red, due to their hemoglobin. (See http://www.vernalpool.org)

Most years, vernal pools dry completely by mid summer and, as a result, do not support fish populations. Under the Wetlands Protection Act regulations, certified vernal pools are afforded some protection and many local communities have bylaws which further protect these ephemeral habitats. However, as many local conservation commissioners and ecologists find, this protection is minimal in nature. The WPA and local bylaws rarely protect enough of the surrounding upland habitat where many of the inhabitants of the pools spend their adult lives, returning to the vernal pools only to breed. In their recent publication, A Field Guide to the Animals of Vernal Pools, Kenney and Burnes (2000) state, "vernal pools are indispensable to biodiversity, both locally and globally. For a species with a wide distribution, individual vernal pools are essential to the local population. Eliminate those pools and the population of that animal will die out in that area. For a species with a narrow distribution, a specific vernal pool might be the only place on earth that animal is found. If a pool is destroyed, that species will be extinct."

Sense of wonder vs. sense of responsibility

The morning after Big Night, the students’ enthusiasm spills over into the hallways, children still glowing, anxious to share their discoveries and experiences of the night before. Digital images that captured the evening’s events fill the bulletin boards, and classrooms are humming as the students work on various vernal pool projects. A sense of wonder has been fostered, and students are engaged in doing science. Sound great? Yet, a visit back to the vernal pool the next morning fills me with a mixture of emotions and concern. The understory vegetation had been trampled. The water still churned, resembling a chocolate milkshake. Several edges along the pool had been so heavily traversed that what had been firm ground the day before, was now blanketed with deep, oozing mud. As I stood among the quacking wood frogs, not only were my feet sinking into the substrate, but so was my heart. I couldn’t help but wonder what the long-term effects would be on the pool if this type of human impact continued. Would we be loving to death an ecosystem that was supposed to provide a foundation for science education, stewardship and wonder?

As I walked back into the corridor of cement cinder blocks, I could clearly see that the salamanders that had danced while congressing in the vernal pool also had danced their way into many of the students’ spirits and hearts. I knew that no textbook, video, nature show, or website could replicate what these students had experienced. Maybe it was the sense of wildness that Muir suggests is in each of us that had awakened the students’ senses. Maybe it was the power of learning when children have ownership over their discoveries. Maybe it was the constructivist-based teaching that encouraged and fostered this type of wonder. In any case, it was clear that many children were hooked!

Reactions of this type are not uncommon in the field of environmental education. A landmark report, which looked at forty schools across thirteen states, documented that by "refocusing traditional curricula through nature’s lens, school records showed significant across the board gains in academic achievement as well as in children’s enthusiasm, interpersonal skills, and ability to solve problems". See "Closing the Achievement Gap: Using the Environment As an Integrating Context for Learning" (http://www.seer.org/pages/GAP.html). Interestingly, this report also stated that, because many of the schools used their natural surroundings and did not spend money on expensive textbooks or curriculum materials, some study schools found that their costs decreased significantly even as their students’ academic achievement improved.

Regardless of the venue, as educators we are constantly confronted with how to strike a balance between the ecological well being of our earth and engaging students in meaningful, hands-on experiences. This ubiquitous dilemma is often debated in nature centers, conservation groups, and among scientists. Each time we explore the outdoors, whether it is one person walking through a meadow to look for insects or a group of children investigating a stream, there is impact. The question is how do we minimize the impact, but still allow for experiences where wonder is fostered, and where students can work as citizen scientists? From my perspective as an educator, it is important for children to experience more than the "scenic overlook" view of the natural world. For it is not the grandeur that draws them in, but the details: hearing a barred owl call into the night, touching a slimy marine organism, shaking the seeds from a milkweed pod, drawing a flower, or catching a Cecropia moth as it emerges during a spring rain storm. It’s the small, personal discoveries that bring gasps of awe and ignite the sparks.

In 1977, Bess Gene Holt wrote about the importance of basing science education around each child’s personal ecology. She defined this term as "each child’s interrelating, interweaving, and interacting with the phenomena that makes up his or her own environment". She suggested that as educators we should consider a ‘Distance From Self Criteria’ when designing educational experiences for children. She wrote that "science starts within each child’s own body, mind, and sensory experiences, then moves gradually outward in all directions through time and development, encompassing the child’s home, family, yard, school, neighborhood, climate, animals, plants, etc…" (Holt 1991). The younger, more inexperienced the child, the closer to his or her center the planned experiences should be. The Benchmarks for Environmental Literacy for grades kindergarten through four, (see http://www.state.ma.us/envir/Elbhome.htm) states that "children learn about the natural world by experiencing it. It is important to get these vibrant young learners out into nature, and to bring some if it into the classroom. Through these real life, hands on experiences students will generally come to love the environment, to understand it, to value it, and to ultimately take responsibility for its welfare."

Balancing education with protection

All of the footsteps trod at the vernal pool were certainly leading to a path of increased awareness and stewardship among the faculty and several parents; there was a growing mutual concern about our school's impact on the vernal pool. As a result, a team of educators came together to investigate ways in which we could reduce the impact on the pool but still engage students in a meaningful, in-depth study of this fragile ecosystem. We began to investigate the long-term impact of ‘foot traffic’, and were surprised to discover that there was little documented research to guide us. We hired a vernal pool ecologist, and enlisted the help of local naturalists and scientists to consider our next steps. We explored a variety of options, including limiting the year-long study to only a couple of visits, going to a variety of different pools throughout Ipswich, or stopping the study altogether. We concluded that the most effective, comprehensive vernal pool study was to use the resources right outside our own back door.

To achieve this goal and hoping to significantly reduce the impact of our science study, we decided to build an environmentally-sensitive boardwalk around part of the vernal pool that would also jut out into a section of the pool. We hoped that the boardwalk would help achieve the balance we were seeking, would foster a school and community-wide awareness of vernal pool ecology, and would promote a sense of informed stewardship. It seemed like an easy enough solution. However, a year later, as we wade through permits, local conservation regulations, and engineer’s designs, we’ve come to realize that the process is just as arduous as the race against dryness that the inhabitants of vernal pools face each year.

While boardwalks are often used as a common solution to controlling pedestrian traffic and plant erosion in many habitats, vernal pool boardwalks are rare. Only a handful have been built throughout Massachusetts: Minuteman National Park in Lexington , Massachusetts Audubon Society's Broadmoor Wildlife Sanctuary in South Natick, and MAS Arcadia Wildlife Sanctuary in Easthampton. Local conservation commissions have raised many questions about the impacts and ramifications of building in a wetland protected habitat, and the precedent set by building such structures. Would a boardwalk cause greater ecological damage than people walking directly upon the substrate? Should students be prohibited from studying vernal pools?

Our team made field trips to Massachusetts Audubon Society's Broadmoor Wildlife Sanctuary and to Minuteman National Park in order to speak with people involved in the design, and to ascertain whether or not the vernal pool boardwalks resulted in any negative impact on the organisms. Informal monitoring efforts have not demonstrated any negative evidence in population size or types of species. Even though the observational data is encouraging, we thought it was critical to have pre- and post-data on our vernal pool, and began our own monitoring project. In the spring of 2001, a natural resource inventory was completed by a vernal pool ecologist. With his guidance and direct supervision, students began to assess the hatching rate of wood frogs and spotted salamanders.

While the overall health of the vernal pool is our utmost concern, we also don't want to restrict access so much that hands-on discovery is impeded. We want the boardwalk to help reduce erosion and to control the impact of the ever-increasing number of people who visit the pool, but allow students to take water samples, observe the vernal pool inhabitants, and continue to foster a sense of wonder. Our current design plans call for the boardwalk to extend over the pool a short distance and to have raised hand rails so that students can lie down on their bellies with their noses inches away from the water's surface!

As educators, we know firsthand that long-term environmental education programs can produce wide-spread ripple effects, and that balance and compromise are required in our boardwalk project. We have learned that children make lasting connections through repeated exposure, and that our study needs to be more that a one day adventure; it needs to be continuous and on-going. Also, we have observed that children from all walks of life regularly bring their parents out to the vernal pool behind our school after school or on weekends; as a result, adults are becoming more aware of and interested in preservation efforts. Considering that so many adults grew up knowing little about vernal pools, there is great power in involving the children’s parents. The excitement generated among families means that ears all over town are listening for the chorusing of wood frogs in the spring, eyes are looking for pools to help certify and are watching roads on the warm rainy spring nights, and people are pulling over to assist a spotted salamander in its crossing instead of unknowingly making it part of the carnage.

When one considers the number of unidentified vernal pools in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts and what the daily impact of development and clearing is on upland habitat, many eyes, ears and voices are needed if these vernal pools are to remain part of the beauty around us. What we hope will be minimal impacts to one pool, may help preserve many more of the estimated 29,000 vernal pools in Massachusetts. (See http://www.state.ma.us/mgis/pvp.htm) Ultimately are these not the footsteps we want to leave?

Acknowledgement to Amy Gregory and Lisa Manzi – who come out on rainy nights, put hip boots on their students' back-to-school list, and instill a deep sense of wonder and awe in their students about vernal pools.

Bibliography