Walking and Observing
This week I walked 18.8 miles along the Tacoma waterfront parks and pathways on the 2-mile segment along Ruston Way. To begin my research about learning and visitor engagement in parks I decided to note my observations on index cards each day I walked—I counted people, birds, and cars. I noted what people were doing (e.g., walking, running, collecting driftwood, fishing, biking, sitting in a car). I marked if people were alone, in pairs, or in groups. I noted the age band (child, youth, adult, senior), sex, and race of people I passed. I recorded the types of birds I observed and what the birds were doing (e.g., flying, diving, moving in the water, sitting on a pier, eating).
During each walk I noticed how the act of marking counts distracted me from taking in the views, letting my mind wander, and thinking about the site holistically as a park setting. At the end of the week I had many counts and questions about recording observations and data analysis.
Categorizing
As I worked to consolidate all the information I had collected I decided that a useful starting place was to document the range of human activities I observed taking place on the waterfront. I grappled with questions like, “Is walking with a dog or stroller the same category as walking, or a new category?” I was able to identify groups of categories (e.g., moving on foot, moving on wheels, interacting with the shoreline, sitting). I considered primary and secondary activities; for example, a walker who stops for a moment to take a photograph or look through binoculars—should she be included in the walking and the shoreline interaction categories?
Range of Human Activity Observed
(4 hours of observation)
Moving on Foot
Walking 120
Running 34
Walk/Run with Dog 23
Walk/Run with Stroller 6
Moving on Wheels
Biking 13
Roller Skating 1
Skateboarding 0
Riding a Scooter 2
Interacting with the Shoreline
Fishing 38
Scuba Diving 0
Boating 5
Interacting with the Shoreline 8
Sitting
Sitting at a Bench 2
Sitting in a Car 8
Sitting at a Table 7
Picnicking 0
I also thought about the human activity that I did not directly observe, but that I saw evidence of. For example, in the large Lobster Shop restaurant parking lot facing Commencement Bay I found two empty Little Caesar’s pizza boxes, an empty case of Bud Light beer, and multiple empty cigarillo packages–evidence of people enjoying an outdoor meal (maybe in a car?) with a waterfront view. I considered how different users–a fitness walker, a walker with a casual interest in birds, and avid bird watcher–might be observing and thinking about (or not) the range of bird types, patterns of behavior for each species, or unusual bird sightings. But that internal processing is not always directly observable, and thus is not accounted for in my summary observations.
I examined my discomfort about making minimally informed judgments about each visitor’s age, sex, and race, even as I know it is important to understand if a range of community members use public resources. I thought about how season, time of day, and weather impacts park use; observing during weekday mornings in January in cold (40°F) weather is very different from observing on a sunny weekend in August.
Trail as Route vs. Trail as Opportunity
As I reviewed my observations I started to think more critically about the major cement pathway that runs along the waterfront. One realization I had is that the vast majority of visitors I observed stayed on the pathway, they did not explore the docks, beaches, or grass areas that the pathway traverses to or around. I started to conceptualize the pathway as a human highway where fitness goals can be enacted.
This week’s walking helped me see the dilemmas of quantitative data and categories—What is counted? Why? Who decides? For what purpose? It also helped me focus my observational strategy to pay more attention to where visitors venture off the major pathway. From a learning perspective, “Trails are more than routes, they provide opportunities. While one is moving along the trail, much of the surrounding world is background, but when one stops for awhile and sits on a bench, the background becomes the focus” (p. 97).
Resources
Kaplan, R., Kaplan, S., & Ryan, R. L. (1998). With people in mind: Design and management of everyday nature. Washington, D. C.: Island Press.
- Navigating Nature, Culture and Education in Contemporary Botanic Gardens - June 9, 2018
- Vashon Island Perspective - March 18, 2018
- Teaching and Learning in Nearby Nature - March 12, 2017
Enjoying your blog Amy
Have been thinking about culture and environment and the marks made on environments. Particularly after a trip to Berlin to work at Potsdam University. As an Australian visitor, the cultural landscape of castle and meadow of Potsdam was confronting to me. I imagined the work constructing these magnificent monuments – back in the late 1700s at a time when the British came to the shores of Wacanmagulie (now Sydney harbour). I also became troubled about the seeming absence of such marks by my own Australian Aboriginal peoples -who have lived in my much loved Sydney for at least 40000 years. When we come to study culture and environments how then do we consider such a relationship where material culture is not so visible? What methodologies will you use to probe the thoughts and backgrounds of the people on your walkway – particularly those that stop to take a photo or to sit on a bench? What remnants and whispers remain of past cultures and their relationships with your beautiful bay?