This is not an academic paper. I write in the first person. And I write out of my own experience - not as a researcher but as a practitioner. So perhaps this is more like a letter, from one imperfect practitioner to others.

I live in a region of Australia where the main industry is coal mining. I and a partner run a small environmental education centre at the end of the farmland and the beginning of the forest in a peaceful and beautiful valley. I am privileged to work with around a thousand young people each year - mostly 9-12-year-olds. They and the living world of the forest where I live, are my teachers. The greatest joy of my work is that it is an endless process of learning and sharing: such is the vocation of an environmental educator. Children come to Wangat Lodge for three or four days. They come in groups of around thirty to forty - small enough for me to learn all of their names. We spend most of our time outdoors. I talk too much; I know they gain most when they are discovering things for themselves. We sing. We walk. We mime. We dance. We act. We write bad poetry. I could not wish for more fulfilling work.