Criaturas: Encontrando Nuestras Raíces Juntos

(Criaturas: Finding Our Roots Together)

Written by Mama Jazmin, Criaturas Co-lead

There is something quietly powerful about hearing Spanish spoken in the forest. This spring, a small group of families gathered under a canopy of trees in the East Mountains, babies on hips and toddlers at heels, drawn together by something more than a shared love of nature. We came with a common thread woven through each of our stories, a language, a culture, and an ambition to pass something precious down to our little ones.

That gathering became Criaturas.

The name itself has a little story. When we set out to create a bilingual companion to our Tree Tots program, the first instinct was simple translation: pequeños. It was accurate, sweet even. But then Ms. Sally discovered ‘criaturas,’ meaning little creatures, and something clicked. The word carries a dual meaning that pequeños simply couldn’t: it honors both the children themselves and the living world they’re learning to belong to. The forest is full of criaturas. So are we.

For me, the word carried an even deeper resonance, as that’s what my Buelita calls all children.

And just like that, a program name became something more, a bridge between generations, between grandmothers and grandchildren, between the language we inherited and the one we’re now passing forward.

Guided by myself and fellow SOL Mama Kacie, our 8-week bilingual pilot program for Tots (ages 0–3) has become something more than we anticipated: a community of families actively reclaiming, practicing, and celebrating Spanish as a living tie to who we are.

Every family here has their own relationship with the language. For some, Spanish was the soundtrack of childhood kitchens and abuela’s voice. For others, it’s a bridge they’re building now, word by word, song by song, so their children won’t have to cross it alone later. Some of us are brushing off vocabulary that had grown dusty. Others are learning right alongside our toddlers, neither of us ahead, all of us trying.

We watch our criaturas climb and dig, we follow curious little hands through the mud kitchen. And in between, we share a word we haven’t used in years, laugh when we fumble a phrase, tweak the words to our songs, and feel something warm settle in when a child repeats it back perfectly, accent and all. 

This is what SOL Forest School’s mission has always pointed toward: not just children connected to the natural world, but families rooted in community. Criaturas has shown us that culture can be one of those roots. That Spanish, spoken among trees and soil and birdsong, feels exactly where it belongs.

We are grateful to every family who said sí to this pilot, and we can’t wait to see where these roots grow.

Criaturas pequeñas, raíces profundas.

Tracking Other News From The Forest

"Making Tracks" by Sally-Wren Stevens, SOL Founder & Director

Making tracks at snowy forest school with a unique method!

One late February day I ventured out into the Cibola National Forest to check in on the magic that is ever-present as our weekly sessions unfold. There had been considerable wintery weather in the East Mountains the weeks before, necessitating program closures, so the Tall Pines group I was visiting hadn’t been out in that “new” snow yet. I arrived to find all kinds of interesting activity taking place all at once: a group of children were very in-their-bodies while they used their large muscles to collaboratively roll massive snowballs that essentially grew as large as (or larger than) themselves, another group worked together to build a female snow person, complete with pine skirt & twig necklace, some giggled as they discovered what it is to posthole (& how it is sort of fun, but also exhausting, if you need to walk a long distance across a snow field), & still others were off doing different things in or with the snow in other areas within the designated forest classroom.

As I stood & just observed this for a moment- marveling about how in a forest school classroom dozens of things can be happening simultaneously in a way that I have never seen occur in a “regular” classroom throughout my decades “in the system”– something, or actually, someone, caught my attention out of the corner of my eye. I turned to find one of our Tall Pines children, a young, artistically creative girl who likes to spend a lot of time in solitary play, doing something very interesting in the snow. Her body was very, very small, still, & close to the ground, she held her hands behind her back, & she was leaning forward, face-first, into the snow, over & over again. I immediately thought, “Hmmmm? I wonder what she is doing?” & crept in for a closer look.

As I neared, I realized she was creating a pattern of sorts in the snow, with her tongue! I quietly alerted Teacher Dana, sharing with her what I was observing & she unobtrusively joined her on the ground, saying, “I am curious what you are doing with your tongue. Can you show me or tell me more about it?” This young girl immediately replied that she was making tracks. Teacher Dana then followed her lead & made some of her own tongue tracks, while there was some brief conversation around the animal tracks that had been spotted before, out in the forest (about a week or so later, this same group of children discovered fresh bear tracks, in fact!).

Teacher Dana’s attention was soon pulled elsewhere, but I was able to find an animal track guide & offer it to this child. She was very keen to consult it & when I checked in on her several minutes later before leaving, she had copied many of the tracks from the guide, making tracks of her own, in her own unique way, into the snow. Her tracks at this point were numerous enough that they couldn’t go unnoticed, so I asked her if she had a plan & how she was feeling as she left her tracks. She simply replied, “well, I want the forest animals to know that we are here, too, & we love them”.

There was something deep, reverent, & magical in her response…something that spoke to the concept of reciprocity in nature. Our children are often closer than we are as adults to remembering that we are nature & observing this child interact with the forest environment in this way, on this day, reminded me of this truth. It felt like her desire to make tracks for the forest animals was a thanks-giving of sorts that she was sharing back to the forest. It also confirmed for me that making our own tracks – in whatever way is unique to who we are – is as valuable as discovering tracks as we learn & play at forest school.

As we near the Equinox & all the new beginnings that the spring season brings, it also had me reflecting on the numerous metaphorical meanings of track-making & the ways in which I am currently “making tracks” in my own life. And it got me wondering, dear reader, in what ways do you hope to make tracks this spring & summer in your own life?

Sally-Wren for ~soulful outdoor learning~

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Here is an awesome link that addresses the Science of animal tracking & how it can be a fantastic learning experience for children: Animal tracking science lessons: What kids can learn from tracks & clues (parentingscience.com)

Finding Fish in the Forest

A reflection from the field, by Miss Brie

There was a beautiful blue sky above us today in the bosque with our Treeschoolers, Miss Dana, and Miss Brie (subbing for Sally). We welcomed new Treeschooler Alma and we are glad to have her with us! Teacher Dana taught us to listen to our breath, and we sang lots of songs in the morning circle, and then we walked the boundary line with Alma to show her our new play space. There was lots of mud kitchen fun before lunch, and during lunch Teacher Dana read a book called the "Golden Rule", which spoke to how the rule is worded around the world. The wind started to get a little gusty, so we decided to pack up and roam from our site to adventure! This led to several instances when we paused to ask the group - where should we go next? We asked for ideas from the Treeschoolers, and considered each one. We then closed our eyes, asked our hearts what they wanted to do next, and took a vote. Since we did this a few times, we learned about listening to our inside voice, expressing our ideas and opinions within a community, and the democratic process. We came upon two fishermen who were very kind. We must have voted to watch them for 20+ minutes (that's long for this age!). Eventually one of the men caught a fish, and we went to see. The fish was bloody, and the man explained that the fish had swallowed the hook, which cut it inside. He was planning to take the fish home to eat. We watched him remove the hook and put the fish on a stringer. At first I'll admit I was worried as to how the Treeschoolers would react to this. They were curious, and perhaps a little scared, but.... mostly curious. I spoke to this without judgement, and spoke to how lots of people catch food for themselves (like my family), here and around the world. I asked the kids, "Do you eat meat at home? This man is catching his own meat! It's very fresh this way. Some people eat meat, some eat fish, and some do not eat meat at all". A few children shared that they love salmon and a few have fished before – even ice fishing! We were at a place this summer for a few weeks when the forest closed, called Sanctuario de Karuna. I don't believe we shared too deeply about the philosophy of the sanctuary with our youngest students last summer (it's a vegan-inspired rescue and sanctuary for farm animals that otherwise would have been slaughtered) and I wonder what those students might have thought about today's fish. I myself come away with a deep appreciation for clean water, wild fish, tradition, and yet also sadness, and much gratitude, for the fish.