I was just in Philadelphia presenting at the Longwood Symposium for about 140 people from botanic gardens, arboretums and public gardens. I was talking about creating emotional connections through how we design visitor experiences. It’s odd to me, but sometimes I flash on some vignette in my past when talking about this kind of subject. I was remembering my first interpretive lesson and it was awkward, embarrassing. So, I shared it with the audience. I cringe a little as I think about it. I’ll tell the story again for it has a lesson in it.
When I was a boy a BB gun was a popular gift and I had one by age nine. My dad probably thought it helped prepare me for becoming a hunter in later years. It actually led to a good bit of mischief. We shot our BB guns at street lights, small animals and on occasion at each other. It was all very dangerous and we experimented in the worst possible ways.
One day at age nine or ten I shot a female cardinal – a redbird we would have called it. I was curious about what it looked like up close. I killed it with one shot and went to pick up its warm, limp body. Miss Brooks, our next door neighbor flew out the back door and confronted me in the yard. “You shot a female cardinal! It’s the nesting season. Do you realize she likely has a nest and family of babies. You killed a ‘MOTHER!’ Her babies are doomed too. I hope you won’t do that again. Aggghhh!”
I felt badly. She could have just screamed – “YOU STUPID BOY” and found my parents. I would have been in big trouble with them. She could have said, “It’s illegal. You broke the law.”. She interpreted the situation. She told me more about the bird and explained the implications of my selfish act. She used universals. I killed a mother and maybe a family of birds. It was my last shot at songbirds. We were encouraged to shoot English sparrows in those days but I quit shooting at songbirds in general, native or introduced. Still I was taught to hunt quail and ducks, but this interpretive lesson was important. She made me think. She helped me change my behavior by provoking deeper thought about what I was doing with this toy gun loaded with BBs that really could do serious harm.
Miss Brooks was a self-taught painter of nature scenes and historic buildings, and a birdwatcher. I still have one of her acrylic paintings of a pond that I treasure. It reminds me of her. She really introduced me to birdwatching though I would not get serious about that for another decade. Cardinals became one of my favorite birds to talk about as a young park interpreter. I had experience with them that I didn’t share with any audience. I was ashamed of that early episode of curiosity that turned deadly for one small bird.
This episode reminds me of a training program we employ in the host course. Dr. George Wallace at Colorado State University developed a program for training rangers in Latin America he calls ART – Authority of the Resource Training. It helps interpreters, law enforcement personnel and other folks who work in varied roles in resource protection. The process urges the practioner to contact someone breaking the rules in a friendly manner. Get acquainted shoulder to should as you might with a new friend. Describe the behavior you saw that created concerns. Talk about the reasons the behavior is a problem. Suggest a better approach and invite voluntary compliance with the policy being violated. This uses the authority of the resource – the reasons for a policy that protects resources. You can always turn to your “authority of the agency” if the person is uncooperative and talk about the law, penalties and the like. Start with the interpretive approach to help people understand what they’ve done.
Getting people to THINK about their behavior can lead to changing those behaviors. It accomplishes change in the most positive way. I think Miss Brooks did that for me. I’ll not forget her or the lesson.
- Tim Merriman














