Our first national park was Mount Rushmore. I’d heard about this “Junior Ranger” thing in which children could complete a series of activities at the park and receive a badge for their hard work. A badge for learning new facts on a vacation!
I marched my children up to the visitor’s station and asked for two Junior Ranger booklets. The friendly park ranger asked me their ages. He handed me the “big kid” book for my five-year-old and the “baby” version for my four-year-old. No! The baby one would only earn the kid a stinkin’ paper certificate. WE were here for the badges. I firmly told the ranger that my son would be completing the big kid program, the same one his sister was going to work on. I’m fairly confident he rolled his eyes at me as we walked away. And so we proceeded, two kids, neither of whom could read, heading out to become Mount Rushmore experts. Which is how my 4-year-old came to wow me with his exasperatingly honest answer: “I have learned NOTHING!”
Having learned nothing from this experience, flash forward, and we find ourselves in New York City. Our hotel is only blocks from Teddy Roosevelt’s birthplace, which is– you guessed it– a national historic site. Junior Ranger badges! I am practically salivating. The children are exhausted from travel, and my son seems off (that would be the 103° fever that I promise I was unaware of at the time), but we’re here to earn a badge.
We arrive just in time for a guided tour, one in which I suspect we are the youngest people to ever visit this site. Seriously, it’s New York City people – Statue of Liberty, Times Square, the Empire State building. But not me! And naturally, I can’t pass up an opportunity to share with the guide and others on the tour that my great-great grandmother was the maid of honor at Teddy Roosevelt’s mother’s wedding. With that little tidbit, they should have just handed over the badges. My 5-year-old has no idea why I am pointing at her and announcing, “We named our daughter after the maid of honor. We’re practically family.” I suspect the ranger never looked at the answers in the activity booklet. He just thrust those badges into their hands and pointed us to the front door.
Fort Sumter, site of the start of the American Civil War. Also, site of our family’s Junior Ranger cheating debacle. I have one child, reading signs, eager to immerse herself in Civil War history. My husband is Googling answers for the other kid.
On our trip to Hawaii, we enjoyed beach time, spotted some breaching whales, and basked in the sunny, warm weather. But we were also able to visit three out of the four national parks on the island. And let me tell you how painful it still is that we did not earn the fourth Junior Ranger badge.
Truly, I suffer from some malady. I’m sure you could name it, but I might cry if you told me. I can’t imagine it has a pretty name.
Fours years passed, and the insanity reached its pinnacle at Grand Teton National Park. And while we earned the badge, I realized that we had not stopped to see the beauty. Okay, let’s be honest. My husband pointed this out. We spent much of our time inside the visitor center, with me, the drill sergeant, overseeing the completion of the booklet. My obsession with the prize had overshadowed everything.
And so I came to reassess my mission, my desire to give my kids the world.
Perhaps the name of the activity, “Junior” should have been my first clue. The badges were not for me; I was not the target audience. And so I went cold turkey. No more Junior Ranger badges for ME.
When we pulled into Muir Woods parking lot, the kids spotted the national park symbol on the welcome sign and shouted, “Junior Ranger Badges!” They raced to the visitor center and asked for booklets. I told them we didn’t have to work on a badge. And I meant it. But they insisted.
Muir Woods is magically serene. My children’s tiny bodies juxtaposed amongst the enormity of the redwoods, they sat and composed poetry (don’t worry – it was a badge requirement – they don’t spontaneously write poems in bucolic settings.)
And on Alcatraz, despite workbooks in hand, we peered into prison cell toilets and listened to a lecture about attempted island escapes, neither of which were requirements to earn a badge. Ranger Mike even gave the kids authentic park ranger hats and jackets to wear during their swearing-in ceremony as Junior Rangers!
There’s a slippery slope between exposing kids to the joys of nature and turning it into the drudgery of homework. Find the balance. Kids are naturally curious. Allow them to investigate and discover organically. If your parenting style is a tiny bit obsessive (like mine), wait to open up the Junior Ranger booklet until after they have explored the park.
Let your kids own the experience. Because when you do, your third grader will take her Junior Ranger badges to school and tell the class they are her most prized possessions. And she’ll mean it.
Did you know the National Park Service is celebrating its 100th birthday this year? With five national park sites in Minnesota, a Junior Ranger badge is only a drive away! Your kids, too, could soon be taking that oath to protect our parks!
