Finding My Direction: The Origin Story of Traveling Miss T.
Natalie TeboulShare
I first stumbled upon the field of interpretation without even realizing it in 2014. I was twenty-two years old, only a few months out of college, and a brand new classroom teacher with The New York City Teaching Fellows. Three rounds of applications, interviews, and a lot of written exams ultimately led me to become a Math Immersion Fellow and a new teacher in the New York City Department of Education.
What confused me the most though was that I was also going to be responsible for teaching sixth-grade science at my new job. When teaching in what’s considered a “high-need neighborhood,” principals struggle to attract and retain qualified teachers. This is especially the case when it comes to math and science. So despite no formal background in either, I had become a sixth-grade math and science teacher. In my role as a new “science teacher,” I created the activity for my students before the field trip to Blackrock Forest. Not once did I think to go to the site’s website and print a resource created by a member of their interpretive staff. In hindsight, I wish I had known about all the free resources available to me, but I didn’t. In fact, I didn't even know what interpretation was, or that there was a whole field dedicated to it. So, for the sake of all being on the same page, the National Association for Interpretation (NAI) defines “interpretation” as a way to “create connections between the interests of visitors and the meanings of a resource.”
When the day of the field trip finally arrived, my students were excited to play with scientific instruments the moment we arrived at Blackrock Forest. A team of nine teachers split the one hundred students into small groups; and we led them to hiking trails, collecting data from every lake, pond, and small puddle as we moved along the trails. The kids recorded the temperatures of water, clicked some buttons on the elevation machine that nobody really understood how to use, and scooped water into small pH tubes, shaking till it changed pink. They recorded their data in their lab packets, and they laughed when the weather started to mist.
To witness a student experience a forest for the first time was an invaluable experience. I saw first-hand what happened to my students when they left their usual environment in the city, breathing clean air, and connecting with a new place. I wonder how many of those same children have had the opportunity to visit a forest since.
At the end of the day, the different trails eventually led all the groups back to one big lake, where the buses waited to take us back to school.
“Wait!” shouted a veteran teacher, as the kids were boarding. “Kids, we gotta do one more thing before we go.” He projected his voice, “I need y’all to go pick a rock from near the water’s edge… And quickly! We gotta get back to school.”
The kids scattered in all directions before he motioned his arms to bring all the kids in close as if he was about to let them in on a big secret. They gathered in a large huddle and leaned in.
“Y'all got your rocks?”
They nodded.
“Good. Now run to the lake, and throw them in the water!”
I watched as the kids sprinted in different directions. Some lightly dropped their rocks a few feet in front of them. Others threw them like footballs and watched them splash. I overheard one student bragging about his own rock-skipping skills. (Now before you say we were not following Leave No Trace Principles, and how dare we support rock throwing, we had no idea what Leave No Trace was in 2014.) Regardless of how they were thrown, in that moment, everyone was happy. I smiled. I finally understood why we were really there, and it was not about fish, or pH levels at all. It was to learn, to experience, and to play. To think all it took was a simple ripple.
WEST
In 2016, I moved to California. A born and raised New Yorker, I was ready to try something new. After two years teaching in one of the highest need areas in the country, I wrote about my experiences, and was accepted into San Diego State University's MFA Program on a Graduate Research Fellowship. While I moved to California to “live on the beach and write a book,” an unexpected piece of me had grown to love math and science. So I found myself working part time at a private school as an elementary school Math Specialist while I worked on my manuscript. By 2018, I had become a 5th grade teacher, and I never thought I would leave the classroom. Of course, the Covid-19 pandemic was a major crashing tsunami that changed many tides, including my own, which is when I had my second encounter with interpretation.
It was the summer of 2020, and I had just finished the most chaotic year of my life teaching the second half of 5th grade online. For those of you who didn’t see any of the teacher memes circulating the internet, I was physically tap dancing on a tiny wooden board wearing a Harry Potter onesie in an effort to engage my students on Zoom. (The downstairs neighbors moved out by May.) It was after the virtual 5th grade graduation that my boyfriend at the time (now soon-to-be-husband) and I decided to take a road trip to a few National Parks out west, because I really needed a vacation, and nothing says social distancing like sleeping in a tent in the middle of nowhere.
Being from New York City, I can confidently say I was NOT a camper. In fact, my only one night ever sleeping in a tent was at summer camp in the midwest when I was ten years old, and there was a tornado warning… Story for another day. My partner, however, grew up in South Lake Tahoe, so camping was second nature to him. I cannot believe it took a pandemic to finally get me out to a national park. On that trip we spent a little over a month on the road. We camped in Zion National Park, Black Canyon of the Gunnison, the Grand Canyon, and Joshua Tree, along with many national forests along the way.
It was in one of the National Forests somewhere in Colorado that I noticed someone making a fire, when the Smokey Bear sign clearly said fire danger was EXTREME and we were not to make any fires. Being the rule-follower I am, I reported the fire to the ranger on site, and earned myself a Smokey Bear sticker. I was thrilled, even as a 28-year-old. And that was my second official stumble in the field of interpretation.
Since then, my fiance and I have committed to a camping trip every summer, and I even have my own sleeping bag. I have seen the Grand Prismatic Spring at Yellowstone, been to the top of Glacier Point at Yosemite, and driven through the Grand Teton Mountain Range. But that first trip changed my life in more ways than one. That was also the trip that I decided to start my own company. What started as a small tutoring operation has grown into a large center for academic support in San Diego. I absolutely love having my own business, but still having the privilege to work with students of all different grade levels across academic subjects. While my business started as a service only, in 2022, I came up with my first product, Traveling Miss T.’s Math Maps ©, which is when I actually learned the meaning of interpretation.
SOUTH
When I first developed my character, Traveling Miss T., I wanted to simply write destination workbooks, similar to The Magic School Bus series. However, once I started to dive into a little more market research, I realized I was onto something much bigger than a few workbooks. I am mixing a universal math standard with geography, literacy, art, and environmental science in a single page PDF that requires no implementation for teachers or interpreters. A Math Map can be customized, but also remain uniform across every single public land site in the world. By making maps of different sites, students will have that first initial exposure to these places, which is what we are ultimately missing. So after exploring hundreds of Junior Ranger booklets, “Traveling Trunks,” and free interpretive resources across sites, I discovered that my program was not only scalable, but could also fill a very specific educational niche.
Things went a bit south when I first tried to collaborate with interpreters. As an outsider at a non-NAI interpretive conference, I was told to “keep quiet and let the leaders focus” at a meeting for outdoor schools, who were wondering how to best reach classroom teachers. I was allowed to listen and learn, but not offer my own expertise, despite my credentials. It was humbling but only fueled my fire more. After all, the only systemic program that has been adopted across the nation is the Junior Ranger program, and it’s nearly 100 years old. I believe it’s time we at least attempt to navigate the changing tides, together!
Now, I don’t want you to think I am anti-EKO or anti-interpretation. The EKO initiative is a great idea in theory, and I want so badly to be a part of it, so I can help sites reach even more students. However, the program’s marketing, audience, and outreach are limited. I, for one, only heard of the EKO program recently when I started making maps in 2022. For all the money invested, it seems silly that, as of September 2024, the last Instagram post from the official @everykidinapark account was back in 2018. Shouldn’t social media be an important push if we’re really trying to reach a larger audience?
NORTH
If there’s anything you take away from my story, it’s that in order to reach our northern star, we need to work together. I am so proud to have worked with local forward-thinking sites like the EcoLogik Institute at Cabrillo National Monument and the San Diego County Parks and Recreation team. I am grateful to have worked directly with the Denali Education Center to bring Denali National Park to life for students and teachers globally through Math Maps and YouTube videos, coupled with free downloads for classrooms, thanks to their hospitality and belief in my work. I respect when sites work with teachers and leverage their social media accounts in an effort to keep up with the ever changing education space, which has issues of its own. I am continually impressed by whoever is the genius behind the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Instagram account, and I’ve seen incredible community engagement and educational initiatives from the Conservancy for Cuyahoga Valley National Park in Ohio.
My point is to be open. To listen and learn from community members, teachers, entrepreneurs, and people who may not be familiar with interpretation at all. We all have a shared goal of educating the public, and sharing knowledge with others. When individual interpreters, leaders, and classroom teachers collaborate—and when larger interpretive and educational agencies work together—we are able to navigate tides, and make waves instead of small ripples.