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Ethics

of Caring
Dr. Gabe Huddleston
Cameron Potter
5/10/2017

Nel Noddings, Care Ethics, and the Problem with the Race of the Outdoors

While it is no mystery that modern education has focused on measurable outcomes and

standardized goals, the question of “what has been lost along the way?” remains hotly

debated. Nel Noddings (2006) argues that, among other things, critical thinking regarding the

development of the ‘self’ has been lost. She reasons, “…to neglect critical thinking on topics

central to everyday life is to make the word education virtually meaningless” (p. 4). Noddings

(2007) argues for a more holistic view of education, one that centers on development and

measures outcomes not by asking, “Has Johnny learned X? – but…what has Johnny learned?”

(p. 5). Noddings (2006) maintains that this latter, opened-ended question encourages an

educational environment where students follow different interests with respect to broad topics

and supports teachers in presenting material that is exciting (p. 6). This educational

environment must be responsive to the individual teacher, the specific students, as well as the

natural environment of the classroom. It’s clear that the outdoor environment plays a

significant role in Noddings understanding of student development. What is to be done then,

with students that lack access - for economic, cultural, or physical reasons - to certain physical

places (parks, wild places, etc.)? Does this put them at a disadvantage, or is it simply a matter of

forging a connection with the local place the student resides? Moreover, how does an

appreciation for, and relationship with, nature influence the development of self? For answers,

we must look deeper at the role nature and place play in the development of the self, and the

obstacles present in relating to nature.


Noddings and the Value of Place

Noddings (2006) argues that, “…to think adequately about the place of humans in the

natural world requires us to think about our own personal behavior in and attachment to that

world (p. 169). Holistic, critical-thinking based education must connect with nature and

physical space. Noddings (2002) states, “It is clear that place becomes part of the developing

self and, in the extreme, the self may even become inextricable from its physical place. Place

does not determine the self, but it influences and shapes it” (p. 174). Throughout her work,

Noddings repeatedly argues for the importance of connectedness to nature and place as a

critical component of self development. She states, “…in countless different ways, the place

shapes us. Our porches tie us closely to both the physical surroundings and our neighbors” (p.

152). Further, Noddings (2002) argues that encounter is a critical piece of the development of

self, arguing, “it is unlikely that one would be shaped by mountains he or she has never

encountered” (p. 156). One would certainly not expect a student who grew up in the plains of

the mid-western United States to have their identity shaped by the mountains of Colorado.

However, it would be natural for that same student to recognize and distinguish between a

field of corn or soy. Place, both inside and outside the classroom, influences student

development and learning.

Further, Noddings (2003) notices both that, “Children seem to need wild places, or, at least,

places that seem wild to them” (p. 127), and, “Children enjoy hiding in thickets and under

shrubs…it has been my experience that they also like to learn the names of plants and insects –

so long as the fun of learning isn’t ruined by some form of test” (2006, p. 166). Noddings

notices the natural attitude of curiosity and preservation that begin early on often fail to
develop as children become adults (2006, p. 167). Why does this attitude of curiosity not

continue into adulthood? Perhaps children fail to learn the importance of a plant or insect’s

role within the environment. More likely, their spirit of curiosity is unsupported in their learning

environments (both at school and at home) and replaced with information deemed more

important in their cultural context. As a result, adults know little about their physical

environments beyond which arborist to call when their decorative landscaping needs trimming,

or which exterminator will rid their house of insects.

What do we lose when we are disconnected from place and nature? Noddings (2002)

argues that, “Too many encounters, too brief, may well be one source of the alienation and loss

of community so widely recognized. If all sorts of encounters are available without community,

why make the commitment that community requires?” (p. 159). Regarding place specifically

she says, “If one can hop on a plane and fly to a tropical paradise, why lovingly maintain the

potential paradise in one’s own backyard?” (p. 159). Connection to place requires an emotional

investment to a specific locale, both to the natural environment and the community. Without

the personal connection to place and people, individuals remain untethered and unable to,

“describe a fairly unified, or even orderly self” (p. 159). It becomes clear then, that connection

to place provides roots for an individual, allowing them to feel connected to their environment

and community. Noddings (2002) said, “It is hard to hate people who love their [italics added]

mountains, forests, fields, lakes, rocks, and sky. Somehow, that love, while directed at

particular physical features of a particular landscape, is universal in healthy-minded people” (p.

156). Notice Noddings use of the word “their” in this quote. Noddings is not arguing that

“healthy-minded people” will love a specific mountain, as though there is a preset ideal that
must be commonly admired. These ‘healthy-minded people’ have connected their local physical

landscape with a larger sense of belonging and identity. In this way, it is not the landscape itself

that is primary, but the connection and development of the self that makes the landscape

meaningful.

Noddings (2006) proceeds to connect the development of self through nature with the

role of education, arguing that, “Children should have wide experience with the natural world

so that their thinking has content...Too often in schools, we either ignore critical issues entirely

or fail to provide the experience necessary to apply critical thinking usefully” (p. 168). The

implications of this thought are far-reaching. In order to apply critical thinking, children need

experience with the natural world. It is the role of education then, not only to challenge

children to think critically, but to provide experiential opportunity to apply their critical thinking

usefully. Noddings is specific here, she argues this critical thinking should be applied in the

‘natural world’. While this does not imply the exclusive context of nature or the outdoors, it

does require the application of critical thinking to take place outside the limited confines of the

school classroom. Quality education then, must provide experiences for students, not simply

facts or test answers. It is only through quality experiences that children can meaningfully

connect their learning with reality. It is for precisely this reason that education cannot be

universalized.

Problems of Universalization

Universalization of education is a natural outcome of a standards-based curriculum. In

an effort to ensure that students everywhere are mastering national education standards,

curriculum is developed at the federal level. As a result, this one-size-fits-all curriculum is


devoid of any regionally specific material. Noddings (2002) posits, “schools give almost no

attention to place. Indeed, it is clear that current reform movements are, at least implicitly,

aimed at establishing curricula, school structures, and pedagogues that ignore place and try to

design education for one great world economy” (p. 155). This is increasingly problematical as

we recognize that the development of self is connected to place. If children are educated for

‘one great world economy’ they will lose their ability to find their identity within that world.

Moreover, universalizing education devalues any role the individual plays within the

educational process. Rather than tailoring the material to a distinct region, town, or individual,

universalized curriculum expects the individual to adjust to the content. While many students

may be willing and able to adjust to the inflexibility of the curriculum in this arrangement, most

would perform better, retain more information, and enjoy their studies more throughly with

curriculum that was tailored to fit them.

Universalization also implies that the most important aspects of curriculum are those

aspects that are shared by everyone. Rather than valuing and celebrating the differences or the

unique idiosyncrasies of a student or region, it glosses over the differences in favor of the least

common denominator. Noddings (2006) argues against universalization when she says,

“children should be regarded as apprentice citizens and respected accordingly…An education

that coerces all children into the same programs and courses is not the best preparation for life

in a democratic society” (p. 37). Indeed, coercion is a deplorable form of education everywhere,

but especially in a nation that prides itself in championing democracy. Perhaps the lack of

respect for the voice of the individual in the educational process is reflected in the lack of voter

turnout in local and national elections. In any case, universalization of education removes the
voice of the student from their educational process, replacing it with a national blueprint that

leans away from the individual towards the utilitarian collective.

A final problem with universalization of curriculum is the forced choice to support the

dominant narrative of the majority culture or hegemony. When choosing curriculum to enforce

across a nation, necessary decisions must be made with utility. The very nature of

universalization forces minority or alternative narratives to be further marginalized. This is true

whether they are discussed in the universal curriculum or ignored. If alternative narratives are

discussed, it is often done in a way that fits within, and reifies, the dominant narrative. More

often, alternative narratives are simply ignored. This is often done in the name of ‘political

correctness’, with the intent to avoid controversy or offense. Noddings (2006) argues that

political correctness, “forbids the use of certain words, but it also restricts the range of topics to

be discussed and even cuts off critical thinking” (p. 23). Political correctness (or lack thereof)

often defines the parameters of public discourse. As a result, many salient issues are ‘out-of-

bounds’, and discussion is forbidden within the classroom. Thus, universalization narrows the

educational public discourse to only that which is ‘politically correct’ at the national level.

Imagine the potential benefit of openly (and respectfully) discussing and debating

environmental policies in Texas, or allowing minorities to share their experience of race

relations across the South. While these are worthy topics to discuss nationally, they take on

special relevance in specific demographics.

Noddings (2003) questions, “Should schools teach for an understanding and love of

place or should they now offer curricula designed to transcend place?” (p. 119). Rather than

universalizing education through specific national learning outcomes, education must become
universalized in providing each student with high quality, rigorous learning opportunities that

help the child move towards the child’s academic goals. The child should be well supported

through academic advising, mentoring, and relationship with caring adults. The child must be

well supported, but respected enough to remain in control of their education. This rigorous

curriculum must be individualized to teach “an understanding and love of place” within the

context of each student. Otherwise, as students are educated identically regardless of culture,

place, or context, the places that once harbored meaning and identity will become irrelevant

markers of individuation in a world obsessed with conformity. Noddings (2002) wonders, “as

urban and suburban places become more and more alike, will people, too become more alike?

Will it matter to people who grow up in a variety of such places where they live?” (p. 155).

Wandering Forth

One clear measure of tailored, rigorous curriculum is the willingness for students to

‘wander forth’. As Noddings (2002) puts it,

the best education recognizes that children should be educated for the centrality of

home life, not merely from it. It makes it possible for children to move out and be at

home in the world. To be at home in the world benefits both the wanderer and the

world, for the wanderer feels safe and retains a sense of belonging, and the world is

treated with the care characteristic of home. (p. 174)

Using this definition “the best education” is integral to building students’ identity and capability

to move about in the larger world. It also implies a confidence that their learning is transferable

beyond their immediate context. Students educated in this way have rich experiences applying

their critical thinking to the ‘natural world’ outside the classroom. To make this a reality, their
education must be strongly rooted outside the classroom. It must also connect with their

identity, as ‘wandering forth’ necessitates a strong sense of self and of belonging.

One must ask if this is a proper standard by which to measure education. Must all

students venture out into the world? No, this is not a necessary outcome for all students. The

best education must, however, provide the ability to venture forth. Like a springboard, it should

increase the number of possibilities within reach, rather than diminish them. Well educated

students must have more possibilities opened to them rather than fewer; the world must seem

more navigable, rather than less so. Importantly, the ability to ‘wander forth’ should center

around the area of the student’s interests and passions. Simply providing more, but undesired

opportunities is insufficient.

A Turn

Nature is an important part of human existence. Noddings (2006) reinforces this by

stating, “people prefer to live in park like environments…In cities, people try to create natural

settings with house plants; if they can afford to do so, they live near parks or close to a river” (p.

168). As we have seen a sense of place, connection to nature, and wandering forth are all

important factors in the development of self and the educational growth of students.

Universalization of curricula prevents these natural connections to place from being brought

into the classroom, but other factors prevent them from entering the classroom as well.

Noddings (2003) states,

We have to acknowledge, however, that there are people – increasingly many – who

seem to feel no need to connect with nature and prefer to live as far from it as possible.

That so many people do feel the need [to connect with nature] and that others might if
given the appropriate educational exposure is reason enough for us to explore how

education should approach the human-nature relationship. (p. 124)

It is the possibility that some might feel the need to connect with nature that guides our turn at

this point. What barriers are in place keeping some from rooting nature and place to their

development of self? What cultural constructs reinforce this perception of nature? Is it possible

to change these constructs? To answer these questions, we turn to the narrative description

found in The Adventure Gap, by James Edward Mills (2014).

The Adventure Gap

“The Adventure Gap” is the story of the first all African-American climbing team to

attempt the summit of Mt. Denali, in Alaska. Mt. Denali (formerly known as Mt. McKinley) is the

tallest mountain in North America, standing at a stunning 20,310 ft. elevation. By comparison,

Mt. Whitney, the tallest mountain in the contiguous United States, stands at a respectable

14,505 ft. Due to the height as well as the remote nature of Mt. Denali, it takes multiple flights

in small airplanes, backpacks around 80 pounds in weight, and 2 or 3 weeks to climb to the top

of the mountain (depending on the weather). The goal of this specific group was clear, “In a

world where far too few people of color spend time recreating outdoors, our mission was to

demonstrate that, despite all evidence to the contrary, black folks do indeed climb” (Mills,

2014, p. 21). In this way, this group of African-American climbers hoped to change the

dominant narrative surrounding the outdoors for people of color. Mills (2014) writes,

“Americans across the racial spectrum view climbing and other outdoor activities as one of the

‘things white people do’. Year after year, statistics reveal that African-Americans are least likely,

of all ethnic groups, to engage in outdoor recreation” (p. 58). Why does this ‘Adventure Gap’
exist? More importantly, how does this effect the ‘development of self’ that Noddings ties so

closely to identity?

The Privilege of the Outdoors

In beginning a discussion about race and the outdoors, we must step back briefly and

acknowledge the privilege that is involved in this type of discussion. Mills (2014) describes this

privilege in the following way, “Climbing is a pastime available primarily to those with the

disposable income and leisure time to squander on an activity that has virtually no socially

redeeming qualities…Climbing is the very definition of freedom” (p. 25). Committing time and

money to an activity that has “no socially redeeming qualities” implies freedom in more than

just finances. It also suggests freedom to ‘wander forth’ into the world, confidently taking up

activities that require finances, vacation time, and social capital.

Mills (2014) argues that the privilege of freedom is available to all who are willing to

take it up. He says, “we live in a nation whose founding principle is freedom, far too many of us

deprive ourselves of the opportunity…to gaze upon the grandeur of the natural world. Too

many of us depriving ourselves of nature are people of color” (p. 26). While Mills readily admits

that there are more factors at play than solely individual choice, he also argues that the

privilege of outdoor adventure is available to any that would heed its siren song. The problem,

Mills would argue, is that the outdoors has historically been the domain of the, “white, well

educated, financially secure, and socially mobile” (p. 57). Minorities, and especially African-

Americans, spend less time outdoors than their white counterparts. National census data

indicate Caucasians represent 64% of the population, while over 80% of visitors to national

parks are Caucasian (Mills, 2014, p. 57). This is reflected in the demographics of those who
chose wilderness protection as a career. The National Park Service reported that 80% of their

positions are filled by white men (51%) and women (29%) (Mills, 2014, p. 57). Meanwhile,

African-Americans make up 13.3% of the national population, but only 5-6% (depending on the

region) of National Park visitors. It’s clear that race plays an important role in understanding

our interaction with the outdoors.

The Race of the Outdoors

While the team climbing Mt. Denali moved slowly up the mountain under the weight of

their 80 lbs. backpacks, they also felt the weight of cultural expectations on their shoulders.

Their goal was not only to climb to the top of the mountain, but also to provide role models,

mentors, and heroes to a generation of young African-American aspiring outdoor adventurers.

Mixed throughout his book, Mills focuses on African-Americans throughout history that have

played a vital role in the outdoors. From the African-American ‘Buffalo Soldiers’ who were the

first park rangers in Yosemite National Park, to Matthew Henson, likely the first westerner to

set foot on the north pole (though he received no credit for it, that was reserved for his white

partner, Robert Peary) – Mills traces the history of African-American involvement in the

outdoors. He expresses his delight at finding “men that looked like me – black men with whom I

share an ancient blood relationship as well as the tainted history of slavery and racial

oppression” (p.69) were part of the legacy of the outdoors and the national parks he loves. He

wondered, “How was it possible that I had never heard [these] stories? And if I hadn’t heard it,

how many others hadn’t heard it either?” (p. 69). Interestingly, Mills also points out that, “one

hundred years ago there were more Africans or people of African descent in an official capacity

in both Yosemite National Park and Sequoia National Park that there are today” (p. 74).
Through these examples, it’s clear that the outdoors has not always been “a thing white

people do”. Yet it remains part of the larger dominant narrative that the outdoors is a place for

white people. Mills attempts to provide an explanation for this:

“The racially motivated violence rampant throughout the 1960’s – cross burnings and

black men hung from trees – is a thing of the past. But what remains are cultural

artifacts, social cues that define the unwritten sets of expectations we have for what

people of a certain racial or ethnic background are supposed to do as part of “normal

behavior”. For many minorities in this country, these expectations do not include

embracing the outdoors, whether for sport or for work. (p. 57)

Cultural artifacts and social cues certainly reinforce the outdoors as a place for white men.

Throughout the pages of climbing magazines, libraries filled with adventure biographies, and

adventurous movie screens, the white male is the dominant figure. Individuals like Charles

Crenchaw, the first African-American to summit Mt. Denali in 1964, receive little, if any

attention. A modest man, Crenchaw sought no publicity for his accomplishment. This

‘scrubbing’ of history serves to reify the outdoors as the domain of the white male.

Accomplishments such as Crenchaw’s are relegated to the margins of history. Mills bemoans

this historical scrubbing of Crenchaw’s success, “Tragically, his accomplishments and legacy

went completely unknown and uncelebrated by the next generation of African-American

climbers, who might have followed in his footsteps and tackled McKinley themselves if they had

only known” (p. 100). Mills (2014) argues that everyone, “regardless of their race, ethnicity, or

socioeconomic status – should have the opportunity to experience and thrill in nature if they

are so inclined” (p. 38).


Many barriers to the outdoors lie in cultural reproduction. If no African-Americans go

outdoors because there are no African-Americans outdoors, then there will never be any

African-Americans outdoors. However, Mills (2014) notes that, once outdoors, nature is a great

equalizer. He says, “The mountain and weather and avalanches don’t know or even care what

race you are, how short or tall, or whether you’re a man or woman. There on the mountains,

you’re just a climber” (p. 120). Indeed, we’ve seen in the examples of Crenshaw and Henson

that African-Americans can be incredibly successful outdoors. Unfortunately, the historical

cultural reproduction cycle seems to have no place for them in history, casting them aside to be

forgotten rather than championing them as heroes. Mills (2014) explains this as follows,

While today there are no barriers like the Jim Crow segregation laws of the 1950s and

‘60s that keep blacks out of parks, there remain several codified cultural limitations that

discourage people of color from spending time outdoors or pursuing careers in outdoor

recreation, conservation, or wilderness advocacy. As a people, we seem to possess an

unsubstantiated belief that we don’t belong. And so we stay away. But the barriers

blocking us from nature are not in the real world. They’re in our own minds. (p. 196)

While no laws block African-American admission to outdoors spaces, it certainly is an over-

simplification to paint the barriers as imaginary. While the barriers may be “in our own minds”,

we must remember that mental barriers can be more difficult to overcome than physical

barriers, and they should not be minimized.

Protecting the Outdoors

A final argument that Mills makes regarding the necessity of exposure of minorities to

the outdoors is future conservation. He argues that as the demographic of the nation changes,
with a national majority of people of color by 2050 (at the latest), responsible conservation of

the outdoors will fall into the hands of a historically uninvolved demographic (p. 62). He says,

“There is a link between recreating in the outdoors and wanting to protect it. People who

spend time outdoors have the opportunity to appreciate its beauty and importance” (p.58). In

a strikingly Noddings-esque moment, Mills (2014) hopes that, “having created loyal and long-

standing relationships with the places they love most, they will pass their affection down to

their children, establishing a legacy of stewardship that spans generations” (p. 58). Further, he

argues that, “The child who has never experienced the Grand Canyon, Devils Tower, Half Dome,

the Painted Desert, or the Petrified Forest knows little about these places and can hardly be

expected to feel invested in their preservation” (p. 59). This is similar to Noddings’ discussion

regarding the importance of ‘encounter’. There is a key difference between Mills and Noddings

on this point. While Mills argues to encourage minority populations to experience the outdoors,

in this context he does so with the end goal of preserving the natural environment – not

benefiting their personal development or expanding their educational experiences. As

discussed earlier, Noddings sees nature and place as a means for rooting individuals, providing

them a secure identity from which to ‘wander forth’. For Noddings, there is no goal of

preservation or conservation layered under the expansion of experience. Through his

argument, Mills seems to be attempting to justify the inclusion of minorities in the outdoors for

the sake of future conservation. His endeavor has the ring of reinforcing the cultural value of

the outdoors to the dominant demographic, and using the minority population to ensure the

values of the dominant are enforced. Rather than using minorities to promote the values of the

(current) majority, the value of nature and place must be rooted in the individual. Indeed, the
influence of nature is most powerful when embedded within the personal experience of the

individual. Experience in nature provides context for critical thinking, experiential education,

and an even playing field that doesn’t “know or even care what race you are” (Mills, p. 120).

Connections to Noddings

Thus far, we have discussed the importance of nature in the development of self, the

rooting of identity, and the necessity for education to provide a foundation from which to

‘wander forth’. We have also discussed cultural barriers and historic challenges for African-

Americans to connect with nature. We face an obvious conundrum reconciling these two

truths. If Noddings is correct, and a strong connection to nature aids in developing a rooted self,

are we to provide natural experiences against the preference of some African-American

students? What does Noddings (2003) suggest when she compares those who enjoy nature,

and, “others [who] might if given the appropriate educational exposure” (p. 124)?

It is clear from Noddings’ writings that she is not advocating a disrespectful

manipulation of students into curriculum they are opposed to. Rather, she suggests students be

mentored in productive, caring relationship with their teachers. Noddings also suggests that

critical thinking be applied in the natural world, outside the confines of the classroom. In this

way, education must be experiential, applicable, and tested. Critical thinking is refined by

application to the natural world. Theories and hypotheses are tested, proven and disproven,

and tested again. Teachers in this experiential context are viewed as guides, highlighting

questions and encouraging critical thinking along the way. This model encourages students to

engage critically with meaningful material rather than seek to appease a teacher positioned as

the gatekeeper of knowledge and grades.


This form of education necessitates drawing meaningful connections to the place of

learning. This place must include the cultural norms, values, and region-specific knowledge.

Local history, as well as flora and fauna must be included in the curriculum, further connecting

the individual to their local place. Local, experiential material should be used to illustrate

language lessons, physics class, economics, and history. While this material will not replace

lessons on national history or world economics, they will be contextualized within the local

experience of the students.

Contextualizing education in this way will not only increase student retention,

engagement, and interest, it will also introduce new perspectives on culturally held values, such

as the view Mills described above of the outdoors. This form of education wouldn’t be limited

to engaging African-American students with the outdoors, it would also challenge majority-held

cultural values regarding topics such as Manifest Destiny, environmentalism, democracy,

politics, and many others. Contextualizing schooling removes the focus from standardized test

questions and ask, ‘How does this material connect with the students in this classroom, with

these students?’ School becomes a place where students are challenged to understand the

world around them, rather than be removed from it. Schools must resist preparing students to

be “global citizens” before they are firmly rooted locally. This rooting must be done in a way

that involves direct experience with the subject material, not merely a lecture or slideshow. To

neglect a firm connection locally endangers students to ‘wander forth’ prematurely, without

the ability to explore the larger world successfully. Noddings challenges us to start with, “...a

vision of ourselves as wise parents of a large heterogeneous family and ask, ‘What do I want for

all of them?’ ‘For each of them?’ Then we can commit ourselves to enacting this vision for all
our children” (1992, p.180). Caring about students this way requires investing in their

development of self, rooting them locally, and preparing them to ‘wander forth’ into the

greater world.

Assuming Noddings is correct in emphasizing the importance of nature and place in the

development of identity, and Mills is correct in noting the absence of African-Americans in

natural places, what does this mean for the identity development and ‘wandering forth’ of

African-Americans? Does the historical absence of African-Americans in nature reinforce a lack

of rooting and belonging in the world? Further, what other demographics are absent from the

outdoors? Could the lack of nature and local rooting be a factor in the struggle urban education

faces? While Noddings and Mills do not answer these questions, they certainly shed light on an

area that deserve further attention and research.


References

Mills, J. E. (2014). The adventure gap: Changing the face of the outdoors.

Noddings, N. (1992). The challenge to care in schools: An alternative approach to education.


New York: Teachers college Press.

Noddings, N. (2002). Starting at home: Caring and social policy. Berkeley, Calif: University of
California Press.

Noddings, N. (2003). Happiness and education. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press.

Noddings, N. (2006). Critical lessons: What our schools should teach. Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press.

Noddings, N. (2007). When school reform goes wrong. New York: Teachers College Press.

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