Central Sierra Historical Society

The Secret Magic Clubhouse By the Lake Scout Michael and How the Mountains Can Teach Us by PJ Machado-Silverstro
Four years ago I spent a magical summer day in the mountains with our grandson Michael. It is more and more challenging to have those days because as he grows his learning difficulties and social challenges are magnified. But when we are outside, climbing, exploring, listening and having adventures, he is attentive, fun, engaged and happy. His responsiveness was one of the many factors that led us into a decision to buy a home in the Central Sierra. So as we contemplated the many ramifications of our impending decision, a letter from Michael arrived containing three quarters, two nickels and four dimes, all taped to a message written to tell us that he wanted to contribute to our magic, secret clubhouse by the lake. Two years and a few more quarters later, we are deeply committed to our new community, the opportunities for exploration, the silence, and the magic that can enrich the lives of our children. Michael seems changed when he arrives at the secret magic clubhouse. We wonder, are the mountains real, yet filled with miracles? Our mountains are a special gift, especially when seen through the eyes and minds of our children. My husband and I, as educators with a combined experience of over 50 years, know that the Central Sierra offers an opportunity for our students to touch their education, to take deep breaths, to ask questions and to become engaged in their own learning. In September Michael came for a long weekend, and our routine began to unfold, “Grandma, can I set up the tent, where is Mollie, can we hunt for bears, can we toast marshmallows, can we go on the trail now and look for snakes?” His mind and body are multi-directional. These are all wonderfully normal childlike behaviors, except for the fact that at age 10 he reads at the 2nd grade level, doesn’t ride a bike, doesn’t sit for more than a few moments at a time, finds peer friendships challenging and wonders aloud why he is different. That September afternoon became the start of many ideas, but he settled on a hike, a long one, one that would naturally include deer, snakes, a fire, Indians, acorns, new trails and stars. We told him that he was in charge of the preparations. A discussion of food, water, maps, “evidence bags,” clothing, and anticipated animal sightings filled the morning. By 1:00 all was ready and the basic necessities were gathered and placed in a backpack. He then turned to us, and we were dubbed Scout Grandma, Scout Grandpa and Scout Mollie. Mollie is our faithful yellow lab. For the next three hours we wandered the forest’s trails. We had already talked about the care that must be taken when we hike, about patient listening, looking and the value of respect. Soon after our departure, Michael stopped us abruptly with his finger to his lips. “Listen”, he declared, “there is a bear over there!” pointing in the direction of a distant cedar. He led us slowly towards the racket and was obviously disappointed to see a bird emerge. Undaunted, it became a “bear-bird” and we pressed forward. He wondered about Indians, acorns, the snake we encountered, the evidence of logging, a power pole, the sour taste of the elderberries, dogwood trees, getting lost, and getting home. The excitement in his eyes, his intense interest and concentration were gifts to us. We marvel at this precious child, so filled with wonder and excitement when he is out exploring, but so lost in the traditional educational world. The mountains offer unlimited opportunities to influence the way young people learn to live successfully in the world that surrounds them. Hands-on, student-centered learning in the natural environment has begun to transform curricula in a growing number of schools across the United States. Michael’s excitement, and transformation as he crosses the threshold into our secret world, is proof to us that the outdoors can be our best teacher. Shouldn’t all educational experiences be so engaging for all of our students, whether in a traditional schoolhouse or one of the many forest classrooms of the Central Sierra?
PJ is Director of High Schools for Fresno Unified School District, a Director for the Central Sierra Historical Society, and currently developing plans for the environmental education program for the Museum of the Central Sierra.

Four years ago I spent a magical summer day in the mountains with our grandson Michael. It is more and more challenging to have those days because as he grows his learning difficulties and social challenges are magnified. But when we are outside, climbing, exploring, listening and having adventures, he is attentive, fun, engaged and happy. His responsiveness was one of the many factors that led us into a decision to buy a home in the Central Sierra. So as we contemplated the many ramifications of our impending decision, a letter from Michael arrived containing three quarters, two nickels and four dimes, all taped to a message written to tell us that he wanted to contribute to our magic, secret clubhouse by the lake.

Two years and a few more quarters later, we are deeply committed to our new community, the opportunities for exploration, the silence, and the magic that can enrich the lives of our children. Michael seems changed when he arrives at the secret magic clubhouse. We wonder, are the mountains real, yet filled with miracles?

Our mountains are a special gift, especially when seen through the eyes and minds of our children. My husband and I, as educators with a combined experience of over 50 years, know that the Central Sierra offers an opportunity for our students to touch their education, to take deep breaths, to ask questions and to become engaged in their own learning.

In September Michael came for a long weekend, and our routine began to unfold, “Grandma, can I set up the tent, where is Mollie, can we hunt for bears, can we toast marshmallows, can we go on the trail now and look for snakes?” His mind and body are multi-directional. These are all wonderfully normal childlike behaviors, except for the fact that at age 10 he reads at the 2nd grade level, doesn’t ride a bike, doesn’t sit for more than a few moments at a time, finds peer friendships challenging and wonders aloud why he is different.

That September afternoon became the start of many ideas, but he settled on a hike, a long one, one that would naturally include deer, snakes, a fire, Indians, acorns, new trails and stars. We told him that he was in charge of the preparations. A discussion of food, water, maps, “evidence bags,” clothing, and anticipated animal sightings filled the morning. By 1:00 all was ready and the basic necessities were gathered and placed in a backpack. He then turned to us, and we were dubbed Scout Grandma, Scout Grandpa and Scout Mollie. Mollie is our faithful yellow lab. For the next three hours we wandered the forest’s trails. We had already talked about the care that must be taken when we hike, about patient listening, looking and the value of respect.

Soon after our departure, Michael stopped us abruptly with his finger to his lips. “Listen”, he declared, “there is a bear over there!” pointing in the direction of a distant cedar. He led us slowly towards the racket and was obviously disappointed to see a bird emerge. Undaunted, it became a “bear-bird” and we pressed forward. He wondered about Indians, acorns, the snake we encountered, the evidence of logging, a power pole, the sour taste of the elderberries, dogwood trees, getting lost, and getting home. The excitement in his eyes, his intense interest and concentration were gifts to us. We marvel at this precious child, so filled with wonder and excitement when he is out exploring, but so lost in the traditional educational world.

The mountains offer unlimited opportunities to influence the way young people learn to live successfully in the world that surrounds them. Hands-on, student-centered learning in the natural environment has begun to transform curricula in a growing number of schools across the United States. Michael’s excitement, and transformation as he crosses the threshold into our secret world, is proof to us that the outdoors can be our best teacher.

Shouldn’t all educational experiences be so engaging for all of our students, whether in a traditional schoolhouse or one of the many forest classrooms of the Central Sierra?