On a muggy late July morning at a nature centre north of Ottawa, rain is threatening. Jayeur Joseph-Antoine is telling an Afro-Caribbean story to a small group of children. She describes the scene and tells them that August is coming in a few days.
“August is a very special time – a time of celebration in our culture,” says the Canadian from St. Lucia, who heads a local youth organization. “Have you ever heard of Carnival?”
The campers, aged four to twelve, shout “Yes!” in unison. A seven-year-old excitedly describes the carnival to his friends: “Lots of people walk down the street singing and shouting, and there are lots of big balloons!” Another seven-year-old joins in: “It’s like a birthday, only with more dancing!”
The excitement – and the cultural connection – is exactly what Black in nature Day camp founder Lukeisha Andrews had hopes when she conceived the day camp. She founded the nonprofit so that black children like her own could enjoy the outdoors in a welcoming, culturally positive environment.
Andrews wanted her child to be free to explore nature, as she had while growing up on the Caribbean island of St. Vincent. She remembers making collages of banana plants and watching the sunrise from the riverbank every morning after fetching water from a public pump with her great-grandmother.
Andrews uses nature-based arts to introduce her campers to the magic of these brilliant sunrises—especially during summer classes when heat and mosquitoes prevent them from spending extended periods of time in the forest.
Weeks before camp, Andrews gathers information about each child and their background and creates arts programs that highlight their cultural experiences and identities. This year, campers come from the African diaspora, from South Africa to Haiti, Mali to Jamaica, and Cuba to Nigeria.
Every single camper and staff member is black, which is extremely rare in natural history in Canada. Andrews remembers a child in the early days of the program stopping and exclaiming, “Oh, my goodness! Everyone here is black!”
“He had never seen people like me in leadership positions outside,” she says.
Each morning, Andrews – who insists that the children call her by her first name – asks the campers what they would like to do that day. Then she lays out what she calls “provocations”: paints, modeling clay, magnifying glasses (for painting on wood with the sun) and anything else the campers have requested. Then they choose what they want to create.
This freedom determined by the children themselves, rather than following routines or instructions from teachers, reflects the decolonizing spirit of Black in Nature. Children are allowed to listen to their bodies and minds. For example, they do not eat lunch at a specific time, but rather when they are hungry.
“It’s important for them to make smart decisions for themselves, especially when it comes to self-care,” says Andrews, who is so dedicated that she has to leave her full-time job at the camp during her vacation. Child and Natural Alliance of Canada.
This week in July, the children learned to draw from an Afro-Cuban artist, drums from an Ivorian Drummers of the Senoufo tribeand Steel Pan by Trinidadian maestro Eddie Alleyne, who says Steel pan was invented in response to the colonial ban on African drums.
Likewise, Black in Nature is an attempt to redress the exclusion and displacement of black people from nature. Andrews has found that black parents often worry that white educators will not recognize hypothermia or tick bites on their children’s skin. And they fear that if their child gets injured while playing outside, they will face medical racism or be reported for child abuse.
“For black and brown people, nature has always been our thing,” she says. “(The colonizers) took that away from us.”
Back in the storytelling circle, thunder and lightning elicit screams from the children. Dressed in colorful carnival costumes with feathers, they run under the overhang of a nearby building and tell stories inspired by nature.
“There was this one flower that was big and tall,” says a 10-year-old wearing a yellow and orange headdress made of beads, sequins and two-foot-long feathers reminiscent of a bird of paradise flower. “Then there was a storm. But it was a magical storm, and everything its lightning touched came to life.” Everyone coos, and the child continues, “During that storm, the bird of paradise was struck by lightning and turned into a beautiful red and gold bird.”
When the story ends, the storyteller Joseph-Antoine turns on soca music and the children jump and dance and cheer for their friend. In the background, Andrews beams. Her children are beaming, connected to nature and their cultures.
