Lessons & Reflections from the National Butterfly Center

When I arrived at the National Butterfly Center almost two years ago, I noticed two things: 1) the gardens were gorgeous and full of life; and 2) the gardens were quiet and devoid of children. I lamented #2 and immediately sought to rectify the situation, because I could not imagine any manner in which we could fulfill our mission without engaging children. Moreover, I was not interested in bringing a few (or a few dozen) children to the gardens, but hundreds of thousands of them.

As my intent became known, some chose to leave the NBC. They complained children would be disruptive (yes) and destructive (perhaps) and they did not belong (what?!).

This is when the needle slid off the record. <Insert sound effect, here, and fade to hand-written letter in glittery purple gel pen from a girl named Morgan.>

How could we possibly seek to save butterflies and ourselves, without involving children? Without inviting them into the outdoors, where they can have safe, instructional interaction with butterflies and other wildlife?

Would there be casualties? Of course! We’ve seen crushed plants and captured caterpillars; but mostly, we’ve see wide-eyed wonder at the volume and variety of butterflies and blooms in the gardens. We’ve heard a few fearful cries, but many more squeals of delight. And we’ve had questions. If you know children, you know what I’m talking about…millions and millions of questions!

The best part is we get questions from the adults, too. Inevitably, the teachers, parents, bus drivers and chaperones who bring the children to the center all come with their own questions; and they’re given the chance to ask.

I have to say: Children are not the plague; they are the panacea. Witness the simple, lovely letter I received in the mail.

“I want to know how I can help save the butterflies,” states Morgan.

How can one help but ponder how many more like her there must be?

The National Butterfly Center is a special place that has to be shared to succeed. We’re sharing it in print and on the Web, via social media and video, every chance we get. However, I firmly believe in the power of physical, first-hand experiences. There is simply no comparison between a butterfly viewed on an iPad versus one seen flying or feeding nearby.

The problem is many parents and schools, today, are substituting the real deal for the virtual one. It’s cleaner, more convenient and air conditioned, plus there’s no risk of a scraped knee or bee sting. But let’s be clear: Growing alienation from nature is not part of the solution, it's part of the problem.

Ashes to ashes, we all fall down.