The Lean-To Connection
Our Community Outreach & Development Director tells the story of the impact witnessed on one of the expeditions she led during her first summer with Outside Perspectives.
I was a Special Educator for ten years before I joined Outside Perspectives in 2021. I worked in self-contained classrooms with students with severe social/emotional and behavioral disorders. All ten years were devoted to connecting with struggling kids and creating ways to meet them where they were, build relationships, give them the tools they needed, and create a space where they felt safe and empowered enough to grow.
And yet, I have never had an experience working with youth where the impact has been so deeply felt, seen, or evident in my entire life as I did after leading one of my first Outside Perspectives expeditions in 2021.
We headed out for a four-day backpacking and canoeing expedition with a crew of 8 teenage boys who would be experiencing it all for the first time. They expected to learn to camp, cook, set up tents, navigate the wilderness, and become better teammates. These are the experiences we provide, and they would learn these skills, but I don’t think anyone expected the depth of personal and emotional growth that would happen organically during those four days.
Upon arrival, the boys were excited to be there but struggled to focus and stay on task. They were respectful toward the instructors but communicated with each other almost only through vulgar language, crude jokes, and aggressive commentary. Yet they swore they were “friends.” My co-instructor and I tirelessly intervened and redirected the negative exchanges. We gave examples of appropriate ways to interact with one another, shared appropriate topics to discuss, and positive ways to communicate. We drew boundaries and held everyone accountable repeatedly, but the behavior continued.
On day two, we relentlessly addressed language and communication. The boys decided to make a bet with us that they could “be nice” to each other for the remainder of the hike to our campsite. We challenged them to define what “nice” means and which interactions, language, and topics must be eliminated. We revisited appropriate topics to discuss, and I spent the next two hours of hiking reveling in the rehearsed positive responses, deflections, and reminders to each other about “how to be nice.” Eventually, they initiated the quiet game because, clearly, this would be difficult.
Our conversation about communicating and connecting evolved between mid-hike prompts, stop-and-circle-up opportunities, and heart-to-hearts in the dark. When we arrived at our campsite, the boys struggled again to continue what they had just practiced on the trail. One interaction escalated beyond name-calling and jokes to very real frustration. Limits were being reached.
We circled up before dinner and led a candid conversation about our ‘window of tolerance.’ We talked about how when you’re out in the wilderness, you’re constantly being challenged by everything, physically, mentally, and emotionally. And all while processing tons of new information. Our window of tolerance fills up, and what you probably could have tolerated yesterday, you may not have room for today. You need to respect and understand each other to function as a group under these circumstances. We challenged them to consider that the way they were communicating was the easy way out. We reminded them of all the times they had already proven capable of more but that it takes effort and a willingness to be authentic. The boys listened respectfully.
Later that night, we introduced an activity that would challenge us to share more about ourselves. We circled up and explained that anyone could step into the circle and share something and that if others agreed or could relate, they should quietly step in to share space with that person. No questions were to be asked. The boys dove right in. They shared about complicated home lives, the death of several close friends that year, and their desire to have meaningful relationships. One participant stepped in and said, “I have things I want to say, but I don’t know how,” and stepped back out. He stepped in once more and shared, “I usually think things like this are stupid, but I realize that’s only because I’m uncomfortable, and I need more of this.”
Over the next few days, the growth within this group of boys was palpable. I heard honest conversations evolving when the boys were in groups of two or three.
On day three, we were prepping dinner when two boys offered to help. I stepped back to listen to the conversation the rest of the crew was having in the lean-to. They talked about school, girlfriends, video games, and sports. They were laughing, taking turns, and covering all the topics we had been prompting for two days. There was no vulgarity, inappropriate jokes, or aggressive tones. It went on and on until almost an hour had passed. The two boys helping with dinner both independently noticed what was going on. One said, “Hey guys, I just realized they’re talking. They’re having a really good conversation over there.”
That night, around the fire, several participants shared how truly impactful that conversation in the lean-to was. One boy said, “I just want to thank everyone who was a part of that conversation with me. I don’t remember the last time I had a conversation like that. Actually, I don’t think I have ever had one.” Another shared, “I am so grateful for all of you guys. It felt really good to talk without making jokes. I learned things about you I didn’t know before.” The tone within the group had shifted.
When we returned to Outside Perspectives Headquarters, we held our final debrief. We encouraged them to take what they had experienced on this trip and continue to build their own culture as a group. One of the boys told the group, “I am just so grateful to have had these conversations with you all. I feel like I got to know you for real, and I realized I have much more in common with you all. I want you all to know that if you ever need to talk to someone or need someone to listen, I’m here for you.”
Several of us, participants and instructors included, left that debrief in tears and with hugs. I spent weeks following this trip in awe of the kids and how ready they were to connect with each other after only a few days of moving on the trail.
I spent years trying to create a world inside of the classroom walls that allowed for honesty, trust, and connection. I put my heart and soul into creating opportunities for kids to feel joyful, accepted, and a part of a community. We spent four days in the woods, and all of that happened right before my eyes. We can never underestimate the transformative power of immersive experiences in the outdoors.
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