Educators unplugged: working and thinking in natural environments

ABSTRACT

This study investigates the cultural experiences of higher education educators/academics while working outdoors in natural environments, ‘unplugged’ from technological and institutional systems.

a) That disconnection from institutional/technological systems would catalyse re/connection with natural systems—the natural environment, our colleagues and ourselves; and (b) That disconnecting from institutional/technological systems would generate psychological, emotional and social margin in our work and invigorate our teaching.

Collective autoethnography with structured methods – problematising, data assemblage, data analysis and reporting.

By deliberately disconnecting from institutional and technological systems for two days we hoped to find social and emotional margin in our work. However, what we did not anticipate, but was a very welcome outcome of this project, was the development of a way of knowing, an epistemology, of being unplugged in nature. This epistemology prompted us to wild our pedagogies and reconsider sustainable ways of learning and working.

KEYWORDS:

• Epistemology
• autoethnography
• higher education
• natural systems

1. The chasm between systems and people

Although learning may be enhanced by institutional systems, it is fundamentally ecological in nature (Bronfenbrenner, 1976). There is a well-established tension between institutional/industrial (e.g. timetables, learning management systems, curriculum frameworks) and ecological/organic systems of learning (e.g. natural human growth and development supported by healthy cultures and environments) (Willis, 2016). This article explores this tension in a higher education context. Findings below reveal educators need time and space to process and organise their experiences and thoughts, create and grow new ideas, and in some instances heal after a busy and stressful teaching period before they engage in the next cycle of teaching. This project involved a group of Level A and B academics (associate lecturers and lecturers with commensurate teaching loads) who deliberately made time to participate in a two-day fieldtrip to intentionally re/connect with nature and natural environment, colleagues and themselves in the natural environment—while at work. This was not a vacation or a retreat and we were not trying to avoid work. We worked outside for two days in natural environments away from digital systems. We had two qualitative hypotheses: a) that disconnection from institutional/technological systems would catalyse re/connection with natural systems—the natural environment, our colleagues and ourselves; and (b) that disconnecting from institutional/technological systems would generate psychological, emotional and social margin in our work and invigorate our teaching. This collaborative autoethnography qualitatively interrogates these hypotheses in the context of a fieldtrip. Accordingly, we draw upon multiple perspectives, both as teachers within (emic) and researchers without (etic), and between us we provide six perspectives of our cultural experiences.

There seems to be an inherent and hastened gravitational pull toward technological-academic connection and away from ecological-academic connection in universities, as inputs are increasingly monitored (e.g. online learning materials) and outputs scrutinised (e.g. Czerniewicz et al., 2021; Selwyn & Gašević, 2020). Some might argue the idea of reconnecting to nature is oxymoronic as humans are part of nature and organic beings themselves (e.g. Fletcher, 2017). However, literature presented below in Episode 2 of the Data Assemblage section brings forward the idea that humans can be disconnected from their natural environments and may need to return to such for healing (e.g. Ungunmerr, 2017). Therefore, this paper acknowledges the complexity of human disconnection from nature and natural environments, even though humans are natural beings. Accordingly, the term nature in this paper primarily refers to natural environments. This term is further defined below in Section 5.1.

Before the advent of COVID-19, which exacerbated pressure in higher education (e.g. Quay et al., 2020) and the accelerated the uptake of online learning, Ball (2016) attributed mounting pressure in education systems to neoliberal technologies—mechanised systems that attempt to control the market, manage people (students and teachers), and improve performance. Neoliberal technologies often manifest in strategies of reform (for example performance improvement agendas) (ibid., Ball, 2016) and are accompanied by data-driven digital learning management software and websites (Hall, 2016; Selwyn & Gašević, 2020). These online mechanisms are changing what it means to be an academic, and what is valued in academia (Staunæs & Brøgger, 2020) and COVID-19 exacerbated this change (Quay et al., 2020). Consequently, educators spend copious amounts of time in front of computer screens. As seen in the reflections presented below, the chasm between institutional and ecological systems can lead to educators feeling stuck, overwhelmed, fatigued, isolated and disheartened. Outdoor Education has typically remained outside data-driven technologies as excursions and fieldwork dominated these spaces, until COVID-19 when fieldwork became near impossible in some parts of the world online excursions became a means of completing course requirements (Quay et al., 2020). Outdoor Education is most renowned for good teaching, rather than technological innovations, although technologies are a vital part of the experience (Quay et al., 2020; Reed, 2022).

Before we go any further, we must introduce ourselves and acknowledge Country, as is custom in Australia. We are a group of educators/academics at a regional university on Gubbi Gubbi/Kabi Kabi Country who work in Initial Teacher Education programs. We acknowledge the traditional custodians of the land, waterways and sky, extend our gratitude for their sharing of traditional knowledges about Country, and pay our respects to Elders past and present.

In our workplace, big changes have been frequent. In the last 18 months we have experienced changes to executive leadership, whole university learning management systems, administration centralisation, and changes to ways of working because of COVID-19. Here is a little about us:

Alison: I have worked in school and university environments for over 20 years. Having conducted my doctoral studies in post-war Northern Uganda, I have an acute appreciation for the organic and fragile nature of human learning.

Catherine: After teaching in classrooms for over 20 years, I moved to academia to expand my knowledge and understanding about how affective experiences impact educators and learners.

Mandie: My 40-year professional career as a secondary school and university educator has had a strong emphasis on students connecting with nature while being in the natural environment. I lecture in Outdoor Environmental Studies and encourage our students to learn about, embrace and protect our planet through the adoption of sustainable practices.

Robyn: My 30-year working career has encompassed being an outdoor education facilitator, an international schoolteacher in Africa and Asia and, more recently, a university lecturer.

Stephanie: I live and breathe education! My teaching career has been in Primary Schools in Aotearoa/New Zealand where I preferred to teach under a Human Rights and Responsibilities Framework. I believe in organic learning and prefer to let students explore, discover, and feel the joy of acquiring new knowledge, skills and behaviours in natural settings and plastic free classrooms.

Natalie: My work in education has been in schools, communities and higher education, encouraging educators to take the path less travelled—focused on teaching students valuable life skills that are essential to developing active and healthy futures—a path which is not always valued in mainstream education.

We imagined the possibility and power of working together in natural spaces and places. Consequently, we hatched a plan to unplug: ‘let’s go on a two-day fieldtrip and get away from the technological systems!’

2. What unplugged means to us: epistemology

Being unplugged in nature was our research context, but it was also significant to our epistemological framework. This is an autoethnography, a study of our own cultures, which are a meld of our academic working cultures and our cultural experiences of working and being in natural environments. We were acutely aware that we were moving our work from a Westernised higher education system to the outdoors in Gubi Gubi/Kabi Kabi Country. Although none of us has Australian Aboriginal heritage (one of us has Indigenous heritage from the Pacific), we acknowledge Indigenous epistemologies and ways of knowing by connecting with Country through respectful relationships (Brown, 2010; Koster et al., 2012).

It is important to note that the term nature in this paper refers to outdoor natural environments. In this study, natural environments included Alexandra Headland and Mooloolaba Beach foreshores (walking), the Mooloolah River National Park melaleuca wetlands and river system (walking and paddling) and its surrounding suburbs (bike riding), and the Kondalilla National Park subtropical rainforest (walking). Although the terms nature and natural environments are used generally in this paper, the ecological and climatic characteristics of each environment are recognised.

Indigenous epistemologies often view research as ceremony where an event raises cultural consciousness (Wilson, 2008). Wilson’s (2008) explanation of Indigenous epistemology draws upon Australian and Canadian Indigenous ways of knowing and informed the theoretical background of our study. Another Indigenous epistemology that informed our fieldtrip was Ungunmerr’s (2017) principles of deep listening. We did not use Ungunmerr’s (2017) deep listening or Wilson’s research as ceremony as procedures or methods, but rather as respected bodies of knowledge that establish connections to nature and natural environments as fundamental to human flourishing and healing. Applied to academic contexts, connections to nature enhance the wellbeing of students and teachers (Bratman et al., 2012).

As this project unfolded, unplugged in nature was the emerging epistemology of our project. We did not assume Indigenous epistemologies as our own but being unplugged in nature was a way of knowing and thinking about what is real (Wilson, 2008). This epistemology – unplugged in nature – developed across the project and permeates our autoethnography herein. Importantly, this project did not happen in isolation, but researchers brought with them combined years of experience in outdoor environments and education. Therefore, we do not claim an emerging epistemology to arise from one project, rather it began to emerge in this project and as seen in the reflections below prompted the team to draw upon previous experiences and knowledge.

Paradoxically, achieving complete disconnection from all electrical and technological devices was not possible on our fieldtrip as we had to comply with university risk management protocols. However, we did work away from our desks and without computers for two days. These are our working definitions of ‘unplugged:’

Mandie: Unplugged means I am disconnected from the phone, internet and email so that I can physically and mentally be in and enjoy the moment. The outside world temporarily doesn’t exist. In this context, it is just me and my colleagues enjoying being in a natural environment together.

Robyn: For me, ‘unplugged’ meant being out of the office, unplugged from devices. Unwinding, relaxing and rejuvenating, connecting with each other and the natural environment.

Catherine: To unplug means I can strip back to a simpler way of being without technology—no phone, internet, social media or computer screen. In this state I can (re)connect to my senses, the environment, my lines of thinking and the work/life that matters to me. Through experiencing this with colleagues, it invites collegial (re)connections.

Natalie: For me, ‘unplugged’ had both a literal and a metaphorical meaning. Literal meaning—there is no electricity, I am not taking my computer, I am not going to use my phone. Metaphoric meaning—I am attempting to switch off from the stresses of academic life via connection to the environment and each other. My aim is to be ‘unplugged but connected’ sharing an energy which will assist us to cope with the stresses of academic life.

Alison: For me, ‘unplugged’ meant off the grid—out of internet range and without mains electricity; out of the office in nature; disconnected from email and other technological demands of the workplace; but still able to use disconnected battery powered devices like cameras and audio recorders.

Stephanie: Unplugged to me means completely unplugged! It means having no access to technology or communication with anyone outside my immediate sphere. It means being able to completely ‘be in the moment’ with no means to access the past, present, or future other than in my thoughts.

3. Autoethnographic research design and methods

Our collaborative autoethnography investigates two qualitative hypotheses: a) that if we disconnected from institutional/technological systems, we could re/connect with natural systems—the environment, our colleagues and ourselves; and (b) that disconnecting from institutional/technological systems would generate psychological, emotional and social margin in our work and invigorate our teaching. Autoethnography seeks to describe and analyze (graphy) personal experience (auto) with the aim of understanding cultural experience (ethno) (Ellis et al., 2011). Autoethnography transfers the author into a reader of one’s own culture and context. The autoethnographic process that underpins the conceptualising of the lessons learned in this paper was adapted from Hughes and Pennington (2017) and Denshire and Lee (2013). The process included problematising, data assemblage, data analysis and interpretation, and reporting lessons learned (findings).

4. (Opportune) problematising

Problematising is a strategy for developing critical consciousness, ‘testifying’ to validate uneasy and unarticulated experiences and thoughts (Ellis et al., 2011, p. 280), and shaping research hypotheses. The process of our problematising unfolded at the beginning of 2021 and began with an opportune conversation about taking a fieldtrip. We were collectively drawn to the idea of being outdoors and away from institutional systems, like learning management software and timetable constraints, while at work. This conversation was a catalyst for a discussion that called into question how we were all feeling about the intensity of our work. An outdoor fieldtrip would provide the means for switching off from email and other digital systems, and giving ourselves time to think, converse and collaborate. We met regularly to plan our fieldtrip and we wrote individual reflections to record our thoughts and feelings over the period of the project.

5. Data assemblage episodes

Data is assembled in an autoethnography over time by various means. Throughout our project we collected individual reflections in six iterations. These reflections are assembled below, along with influential literature that shaped our views and experiences, in four episodes: planning the event, drawing from literature that spoke to us, leading up to the event, and the unplugged event itself. These four episodes are reflective of Denshire and Lee’s (2013) autoethnographic data assemblage tasks and apply the principles of multiple narratives (six different perspectives of a shared experience) and straddling multiple temporalities (demonstrating the development of thought over time).

5.1. Episode 1: planning the fieldtrip

In this data assemblage episode, we tell and retell our experiences of trying to secure a date for the trip.

Natalie: Roadblocks, let’s call them roadblocks—consisted of scheduled university teaching periods (10 weeks to 13 weeks), O Week, school holiday periods, marking commitments, professional experience supervision to name a few. It soon dawned on me that the purpose of the ‘unplugged’ research did have real meaning. Why have we got so much on our plates as a School that we cannot find three days where all staff could participate in a fieldtrip together? How are we going to work together as a team and connect when finding a date is just so difficult?

Alison: It took us an hour to find a date that suited all of us. I feel like that experience is indicative of the demands of a university calendar. Most of us will have to make compromises to go away during a working week. Something will suffer. It would be easier to hatch a research project we could do at our desks.

Robyn: Trying to find an agreeable date for our trip was challenging. It seemed that our yearly academic calendar was bursting at the seams!

Mandie: I began to think that our planned trip would not eventuate. Everyone is incredibly busy, and I developed a new appreciation of the complexity and breadth of the roles and responsibilities of the Education staff. This process also provided insight into their professionalism and commitment. I felt concerned that our jobs so tightly controlled our lives. The need for our unplugged experience was emphasised.

Catherine: Not only did the meeting become disturbingly comical due to our inability to find three days available in our collective diaries, but the flurry of workload/life ‘issues’ surfacing was extensive and exhausting. This only reinforced the significance of this project and its importance… Unplugging to connect isn’t a treat or bonus, it is essential.

These initial experiences illustrated the tension between our ways of working and our emerging unplugged in nature epistemology: although we knew that unplugging was inherently good for our work and our wellbeing, we struggled to reconcile this knowledge with work systems and calendars. The need for intentionality in our work became salient. For us, trying to create an event raised our awareness of (a) the limited margin in our work calendar and (b) how our schedules keep us away from connections with nature and natural environments.

5.2. Episode 2: drawing from literature that spoke to us

In the lead up to the fieldtrip, there were key journal articles and books that either challenged our perspectives, grew our understandings, or articulated that which had only been previously felt and not yet adequately put into words. This data assemblage episode outlines this literature.

We all resonated with Indigenous elder Aunty Miram-Rose Ungunmerr’s (2017) principles of Dadirri (deep listening). She teaches her readers and listeners about the healing qualities of listening in nature:

Dadirri recognises the deep spring that is inside us. We call on it and it calls to us. This is the gift that Australia is thirsting for. It is something like what you call ‘contemplation.’ When I experience dadirri, I am made whole again … I can find my peace in this silent awareness. There is no need of words. A big part of dadirri is listening.’

(p. 14)

Although we did not use Ungunmerr’s (2017) work methodologically, it informed our epistemology of unplugged in nature as we sought to work outside away from technology and connect to ecological rhythms.

Morse et al. (2018) article Rethinking relationships through education: wild pedagogies in practice was another provocation when planning our journey. It provided us with the impetus and value of incorporating some of their touchstones into our fieldtrip experiences. Morse et al. (2018) describe touchstones as ‘concepts and questions intended to support the work of wild pedagogies’ (p. 246). The first touchstone was agency and the role of nature as co-teacher, allowing us the space to learn from ‘with(in), from and through the more-than-human world’ (p. 247) as we embraced nature-centered pedagogies. This prompted us to interact with the local geomorphology, weather and the fauna and flora of the areas visited. We made space for experiences to arise and run their course with no intended or set outcome. Another touchstone, cultural change, also struck a chord with us. This touchstone bases its ideals around the notion of ‘wilding our pedagogies’ (p. 245), allowing ourselves to respond to stimuli and learning experiences in spontaneous and new ways without always adhering to the status quo.

A Pedagogy of Place: Outdoor Education for a Changing World, written by Wattchow and Brown (2011), provided insights into the theory and practice of place-responsive education. They emphasised that ‘places are not simply locations or abstract concepts; rather, they are sites of lived experiences and meaning-making’ (p. 67). Some highlighted examples from Wattchow and Brown (2011) resonated with us, including the opportunity to ‘have a personal and sensory engagement with a river’ (p. 121) and the notion of using a self-propelled, localised journey framework that provided an element of challenge, yet also time for reflection. Our self-propelled local journey included walking, kayaking and bike riding. This journey can be seen as a blueprint, something to be replicated elsewhere by the participants and implemented into their local surroundings.

We also took the idea of reflecting on our academic identities, the value of our work, and the pressures of academic productivity from Manathunga, Black, & Davidow (2020) article Walking: towards a valuable academic life. Building on the authors’ idea of using beach walking as a catalyst for awakening generative thinking and ways-of-working, we incorporated walking, paddling and cycling into our fieldtrip. These forms of self-propulsion allowed us to ‘journeying along’ together (p.1), slow down and (re)connect with our surroundings.

With a deep knowing and awareness of the apparent disconnect within our academic life/work, the work of Mountz et al. (2015) spoke to the pressures we were experiencing at a system level, while also motivating and supporting the urgency of our collective, unplugged action. Their paper, For Slow Scholarship: A Feminist Politics of Resistance through Collective Action in the Neoliberal University highlighted that academics must resist temporal ways-of-working and move towards more reflexive, slow, embodied and collective forms of scholarship. The authors’ ten ‘starting point’ strategies for slowing down scholarship¹ signified and justified the importance of our unplugged fieldtrip. Empowered by the paper’s arguments and the collective (and individual) fieldtrip actions materialising, the desire for an academic (re)calibration surfaced. However, we were still struggling with ‘finding time’ for the action(ing).

Similarly, Shahjahan’s (2015) paper also addressed the need for Being ‘lazy’ and Slowing Down in academia, however his work suggests that we need to disrupt (sometimes forcefully) the ‘silent structures’ (p. 490) of time. Shahjahan (2015) opens imaginative and experimental ways of working with (and against) the constructs of time to ‘insert the flavor, color, and in general life to savor academia’ (p. 498). The natural environment/s of our fieldtrip experiment intuitively provoked the disruption of time by providing a space, place and margin for uninterrupted, unplugged academic thinking.

Assembled together, this literature contributed to the evolution of our unplugged in nature epistemology as it propelled us towards new ways of knowing, experiencing and being in nature and natural environments. This assembled literature also contributed to addressing the research hypotheses.

5.3. Episode 3: leading up to the event

The data in this assemblage episode foregrounds our voices as educators and teaching academics. We write from the perspective of being in (emic) the system. In the next section we write from the perspective of being out (etic) of the system. As a critical feature of autoethnography, episodes three and four track the evolution of our thoughts and feelings over time. Autoethnographic research refers to this as ‘straddling multiple temporalities’ (Denshire & Lee, 2013, pp. 225–227). At this point in the research process, Stephanie reluctantly joined the team. She was keen to be part of the field trip, but the paperwork nearly thwarted her involvement.

Robyn: It seemed ironic that we would have to change our plans at the last minute. A severe thunderstorm and minor flood warning replaced our order for sunny skies and warm days. Mandie and I developed a contingency plan (a two-day local trip) to replicate the journey in a safer environment. This involved a new trip and risk assessment plan, which needed to be submitted for approval.

Mandie: Two days prior to departure, the forecast of a series of late afternoon thunderstorms necessitated a change of plan. Instead of the Noosa Everglades, kayaking along sections of the Mooloola River, hiking through parts of two local national parks and utilising bike paths provided an opportunity to engage with our local environment. Robyn and I now had the opportunity to introduce our work colleagues to the often forgotten, beautiful and natural world that exists just beyond bitumen and concrete.

Catherine: Last night, rather late, I was still at my computer having to ‘finalise’ a few things so that I had the ‘capacity’ to be ‘away’ and unplugged from my computer for two days. This entire work/life year feels like it has been about trying to finalise all that is disjointed. A perpetually evolving plugging-in-event.

Natalie: Life as an academic—take a scene from The Matrix where Neo is plugged into a machine and sent into an alternative reality. This is what I feel like going to work every day, I leave my connection with nature at home and I sit in front of a computer or within the four walls of my office or teaching space. As a schoolteacher I was always outdoors, teaching students to see and feel the beauty of being outdoors and develop an appreciation for nature. Academic life really isn’t me, its foreign and unhealthy and the more I do this work, the more I search for ways to escape.

Alison: As we neared the event, I realised just how hard unplugging actually was. For me, it wasn’t so much the unplugging from desktop work commitments, as much as it was unplugging from family that was my real stress at the time. And, delaying important tasks at work was not my normal way of working.

Stephanie: I yearn for the peace, quiet and tranquillity that being ‘unplugged’ will bring. But then I hit a wall…I’m over this already … the reading for the Risk Assessment quiz is several pages long and I baulk at the enormity of the task ahead … . I quickly flick off a couple of emails to let the team know that I am pulling out. The next day I am being promised by the team that they will help me do the risk management form. Brilliant collegial support. I can go!

Evidently, being unplugged was counter-cultural in our workplace. We were going against the flow of dominant work practices and pushing against a greater societal tide of at-the-minute technology in everyday living. We had to push past many challenges to pursue this way of knowing, this wilding pedagogy (Morse et al., 2018), this unplugged in nature epistemology.

5.4. Episode 4: unplugged

The data in this assemblage episode foregrounds our voices as researching and teaching academics. We write from the perspective of being out (etic) of the system. One of the Denshire and Lee’s (2013) data assemblage tasks is twice-told narratives where cultural experiences are reflected upon from different perspectives. In this section we offer hexa-told narratives as we each share our cultural experiences of being unplugged. The excerpts presented in the body of this paper are abridged. For extended accounts of the unplugged experience see Appendix A.

Catherine: A ‘time’ when there was no apparent sense of ‘time’ or responsibility. Other than the repetitive movement of paddling, nothing needed my immediate attention. Being disconnected from the computer ignited and entertained a connection to experiencing joy and fun.

Stephanie: Outside the system my thoughts felt longer, deeper, and more productive. I was not multitasking. I was not being interrupted … I had permission to just ‘be.’ The ideas I had, and decisions I made, seemed to come from my whole body … not just my thinking head! The heart, mind and soul were all working as one.

Natalie: The paddle down the river is beautiful, a relaxing pace, with time to take in my thoughts, connect with Robyn who is in my boat and enjoy being in nature. It was wonderful not to worry about time or feel rushed. The ticking of time is replaced by the slow ebb and flow of the river which is calming and enables me to reset.

Mandie: In our ‘plugged’ world it is also rare to have an extended conversation that is not ended by the phone or the need to be at the next appointment. Our time together was uninterrupted. As the university progresses further into online learning and working from home it was wonderful to have the opportunity to really talk and get to know each other. I also enjoyed seeing everyone so comfortably muddy, dirty, and sweaty, a contrast to our professionally dressed work appearance.

Robyn: Sharing some localised adventures in nature provided a platform for workmates to become friends, as most previously shared interactions were confined to meetings, the university corridors, and the occasional coffee or lunch in our staffroom when our schedules aligned.

Alison: Because we pressed pause on routine, we became better acquainted, enjoyed being in nature, and connected with ourselves, each other and the environment. We were generous to one another without turning it into a competition and we looked out for each other.

This final episode reaffirms our ways of knowing, our unplugged in nature epistemology. Evidently, our unplugged experience afforded unplugged ways of knowing.

6. Data analysis, interpretation and reporting

It is difficult to separate data collection and analysis in autoethnographic research as critical thought and review is indelibly enmeshed in the assemblage of data. Autoethnography allows researchers to remove their academic armor and position themselves within academic phenomena (Hughes & Pennington, 2017; Lerum, 2001). Analytical processes of reviewing, writing and reflection occurred between January and December (as evidenced in the data assemblage tasks above). Through processes of reflecting and conversing between us, conceptions were formed over time. Conceptions are termed lessons learned in this paper. This data analysis process was more akin to grounded theory methods for emergent analyses than traditional qualitative coding methods (Hughes & Pennington, 2017). Analysis was non-linear and involved emic and etic cultural interactions with our own personal views and our collective views as a group.

6.1. Reporting

The process of communicating the categorised conceptions (lessons learned) developed through the autoethnographic process is an attempt to make meaning out of the non-linear experience that is reflective research (Hughes & Pennington, 2017). These lessons learned address our hypotheses:

1. That if we disconnected from institutional/technological systems, we could re/connect with natural systems—the environment, our colleagues and ourselves; and

2. That disconnecting from institutional/technological systems would generate psychological, emotional and social margin in our work and invigorate our teaching.

Our findings are reported below.

7. Findings from unplugging in natural environments

Findings demonstrate there is a chasm between system requirements in universities and human need for ecological connection. At the beginning of this paper, we proposed an epistemology, a way of knowing – unplugged in nature. As this project developed, the experience of being unplugged in nature brought a heightened sense of awareness about sustainable ways of working in higher education. We share our new knowledge here in three lessons learned, these are the outcomes of our autoethnographic study.

7.1. Lesson 1: the paradox of disconnecting to connect

The paradox of having to disconnect to connect is a salient autoethnographic finding. Deliberately disconnecting from technological online work systems, to connect with our colleagues, nature and ourselves seemed ironic, and yet it was our reality. All team members felt the tension between obligations to stay connected to institutional systems and the need to disconnect from digital systems and reconnect with ecological systems. Moreover, we identified a need to reconnect with natural systems as we sought non-digital learning experiences in a natural environment (Bratman et al., 2012). This experience was cultural for us as it informed our ways of being, knowing and working. We discuss this paradox in two parts: the challenges of disconnecting and the benefits of re/connecting.

7.1.1. Lesson 1a: the challenges of disconnecting

As the data assemblage episodes above reveal, setting aside institutional expectations and obligations regarding online communications and ways of working was challenging. The irony for us was that we work in higher education where thought is valued, and yet we had to work hard to find margin for uninterrupted thought. The challenge of disconnecting almost trumped the desire to do so. Evidently, it would have been easier, although not healthier (Bratman et al., 2012), to not go on the fieldtrip and stay working online as is the dominant higher education culture. Although the institution financially supported our unplugged fieldtrip, there were no structural (for example timetable or delegation) supports. In this way we disrupted the silent structures (expectations of time and place) of the institution (Shahjahan, 2015).

7.1.2. Lesson 1b: the benefits of re/connecting

Our unplugged in nature experience and developing epistemology re/connected us with the rhythms of nature, with each other, and with ourselves. Away from technological distractions or obligations, our awareness of how connections with nature are revitalizing and critical for workplace health in higher education was heightened. The data episodes demonstrate the grounding and calming effects of being unplugged in nature and accord with Bratman et al. (2012) previous research. The sensory experience of being outside was recalibrating for us, reminding us of the ancient rhythms of nature that transcend technological systems. Mandie described the experience in this way: ‘Western cultures have much to learn from Indigenous connection to Country … Our two-day experience highlighted the human and health benefits of being in nature.’ Our experience brought a heightened respect for Indigenous connections to Country and ways of knowing, as we were positioned to view our ways of working from the perspective of being in nature rather than the perspective of being online. This act of being in and connected to nature put our learnings from influential literature (e.g. Manathunga et al., 2020; Morse et al., 2018) into practice, and we began to see our work with new perspective. This was a cultural shift for us.

The other benefits of our fieldtrip were the inter- and intra-personal connections. Without the interruptions of technology notifications, we were able to sustain longer professional conversations while we hiked and paddled. Natalie described inter-personal connections in this way:

The one outcome from this journey that I overlooked was quality time with my peers. This type of an opportunity is rare … I felt that I was no longer alone. I had peers who felt the same way about academic life as myself and this felt good.

This fieldtrip and our emerging unplugged in nature epistemology, helped us to see how institutional ways of working in higher education have isolated us from each other. The opportunity for authentic conversations created social margin in our work, refreshing and invigorating the teachers within us.

Being unplugged in nature for two days also allowed us to connect with our own thoughts and feelings. Stephanie reflected, ‘thoughts these days are fast,’ meaning that there is very little time to sit with thoughts and think deeply in higher education institutions. By deliberately carving out space in our schedules, we allowed ourselves time for thinking and processing while we hiked, paddled and cycled. In this way, we melded our academic culture together with experiences of being in nature.

The lessons learned about disconnecting to connect reaffirm our two hypotheses as this experience evidently created psychological, emotional and social margin in our work.

7.2. Lesson 2: recalibrating our teaching

This project helped us recalibrate our pedagogical perspectives. Previously, we had been swept up in technological systems (Czerniewicz et al., 2021; Hall, 2016; Selwyn & Gašević, 2020); however, this trip ‘wilded’ our pedagogies (Morse et al., 2018) and foregrounded nature-based ways of knowing (Ungunmerr, 2017; Wattchow & Brown, 2011). As our experiences show above, this was a grounding and reorienting experience for us. We are teachers in higher education institutions; therefore, this learning will be carried forward into our courses, both in our pedagogical practices and in our philosophical approaches. Since this trip Mandie has emphasised to her students the importance of having their brain where their body is, being fully present in the moment. Robyn has consciously promoted learning with the head, heart, and hands, and became more intentional in her practice to allow students to let go and seek a heightened awareness of their senses. Practically, we ask students to turn off notifications on their phones and computers so they can be present in their learning and growing. We have unique roles teaching pre-service teachers as our pedagogy is twice counted: once for the immediate learning experience, and twice for the influence upon the pre-service teachers’ pedagogy. In this way, disconnecting from technological systems for a period invigorated our teaching, confirming our research hypothesis.

7.3. Lesson 3: epistemology evolves with time and experience

Our emerging epistemology, unplugged in nature, was an unanticipated outcome from this project as it developed during the project, caused us to reflect and draw upon our experiences from the past, and continues to evolve. We learnt that ways of knowing take time and experience. Our different perspective, our adjusted way of knowing, our developing epistemology is being and working unplugged in nature. Although this developing epistemology emerged from common experiences, it can be individually interpreted as we each have our personal and cultural expressions of this way of knowing. In this way, an epistemology is both collective and individual.

Unplugged in nature as an epistemological way of knowing means that every experience and thought occurred with direct connection to natural systems rather than technological and institutional systems. C’s reflection provides one example of working in a natural flow:

In the bush, there were no benchmarks. There was no real sense of urgency or time. We just walked. We just rode until we got to where we needed to go. The pressure was off … Upon reflecting, I could draw metaphorical parallels to my research work - when I work to benchmarks, the ‘work’ seems harder. When the pressure is off, and I am experiencing the processes (in whatever form) thinking movements tend to flow more freely and effortlessly.

This exemplifies how we came to see and know in and through nature. Natural systems became our point of reference, our way of knowing, our emerging epistemology. We came to realise that thought is deeper and more meaningful, dare we say more efficient, when institutional pressure is minimised. Thought does not require technology. Furthermore, knowledge is shaped by cultural experiences. It resides in us, and the usefulness of it is determined by our health and the health of our environments and cultures. We could see how knowledge grows when conditions are conducive; and when conditions are hostile, self-preservation trumps free thought. Through the experience of supporting and being vulnerable to one another on the field trip, we came to know that we can trust and support one another in the workplace. Relationships of this kind are vital for educators’ ways of working in order to de-silo practices and encourage cultures of collegiality.

8. Conclusions: creating our own ecosystem

Our hypotheses were confirmed: disconnecting from technological and institutional systems enabled us to re/connect with natural systems, which in turn generated much needed psychological, emotional and social margin in our work and invigorated us for the upcoming teaching semester. It is vital that acts of learning are situated in natural environments that can sustain personal and collegial growth. If higher education institutions seek to encourage deep thought, collegiality, and sustainable ways of working, they ought to intentionally create space and allocate resources for academics to work away from technological systems for periods of time in nature/natural environments. Technological and institutional systems in higher education have influenced our ways of working and shaped our cultures of knowing. This is concerning as technological systems have a shelf life and the organic nature of knowledge and learning is much more dynamic than a manmade system. Natural systems in natural environments are much more complex and yet much less overwhelming.

Limitations of this study were largely due to the time and financial constraints of the project. Data collection and analysis was conducted over a short period of time due to previously explained difficulties around extracting ourselves from everyday system responsibilities.

Possibilities for future research include the further investigation of fostering collegial growth in outdoor natural environments. This was a common finding throughout the data that warrants further investigation, particularly in terms of how an absence or presence of technological systems influences collegiality, and how foregrounding nature-based ways of knowing (Ungunmerr, 2017) affects working relationships and collegial growth. The other salient area for future research is the emergent epistemology of unplugged in nature and the different ways of viewing, knowing and processing experiences and information in outdoor natural environments. This is not completely new as ecological metaphors have long been used in education and workplaces to describe phenomena and Ungunmerr’s (2017) work foregrounds nature-based ways of knowing, but the articulation of knowing in nature and natural systems as an epistemology warrants further investigation and development. As this was an auto-ethnographic study with a focus on individual and collective cultural experiences in nature, further investigations of unplugged in nature ought to foreground cultural experiences and the interpretations of such to better understand the cultural dynamism of working in natural environments.

In terms of the implications for educative practices, it was found that an intentional short-term disconnect from technological and institutional systems and a reconnection with natural systems helps educators to ‘wild’ their pedagogies and established an appreciation for the organic nature of human learning and being. This can only be helpful for sustainable ways of working and living.

Disclosure statement

No potential conflict of interest was reported by the author(s).

Additional information

Notes on contributors

Alison Willis

Dr Alison Willis is a Senior Lecturer in the School of Education and Tertiary Access. Alison’s research investigates the effects of disruption, stress and trauma on learning. She has a particular interest in the roles of teachers in helping students overcome the effects of stress and trauma, learning in conflict and post-conflict environments, psychological safety as an antecedent for student learning and education recovery after disruption.

Catherine Thiele

Catherine Thiele is a teacher, lecturer, and researcher at the University of the Sunshine Coast. Her research draws on theories of affect to experiment with how datafied measures of knowledge/performance are (re)shaping the roles and responsibilities of educators, particularly in relation to affective intensities, pedagogical responses, professional desires, subjectivity, human and more-than-human connections.

Robyn Fox

Robyn Fox is a lecturer in Outdoor Environmental Education at the University of the Sunshine Coast, Australia. Her research explores climate change impacts and opportunities on outdoor environmental education and the role of field naturalist journals in developing ecological literacy in outdoor environmental studies. She has a passion for the river, mountain and coastal environments of south-eastern Australia and enjoys teaching and spending time in these places.

Amanda Miller

Dr Amanda (Mandie) Miller is an adjunct lecturer and Researcher at the University of the Sunshine Coast. Her research examines the way margnalised children in Cambodia transgress historical, cultural and social barriers to access education. Amanda’s research also examines how outdoor education and ecotourism facilitate connection with and empathy for the natural environment.

Natalie McMaster

Dr. Natalie McMaster is a Lecturer in Education at the University of the Sunshine Coast. Her teaching and research interests focus on health and physical education and STEM education. She has worked in remote communities, policy advisory roles, curriculum writing for ACARA and currently manages several grants and a STEM aspirational project called MindSET-do.

Stephanie Menzies

Stephanie Menzies is an Associate Lecturer and First Year Lead in the School of Education and Tertiary Access. She has a background in primary school teaching, SPELD teaching and Reading Recovery Teaching. Stephanie is particularly interested in Play Based Learning and how it can be used in all levels of teaching to enhance the students learning experience. Her background in implementing inclusive pedagogical practices in the New Zealand Education system has guided her to adopt a philosophy that respects, honours and celebrates diversity in all learners.

Notes

1. The ten strategies include, Talk about and support slow strategies; Count what others don’t; Organise; Take care; Write fewer emails; Turn off email; Make time to think; Make time to write (differently); Say no. Say yes; Reach for the minimum (ie; good enough is the new perfect). Mountz et al. (2015).

Appendix A:

Extended data excerpts from the unplugged experience (Data Assemblage Episode 4)

Catherine: The lure of connecting with one another, nature, and my own thoughts was exciting. The act/s of walking, paddling, riding, eating, laughing and being with the environment worked with (and at times against) me as I grapple with what it means to become an academic. While paddling I quickly (re)connected to my childhood experiences and encounters within the area. The sounds, smells and affects experienced while paddling reminded me of being a girl who grew up ‘playing’ in the river. I was remembering and I was at ease. It was reassuring. The connection to water was real and strong; gentle and kind. The memories evoked through the act of paddling took me back to a time and place filled with fun, playfulness, risk, and adventure. A ‘time’ when there was no apparent sense of ‘time’ or responsibility. Other than the repetitive movement of paddling, nothing needed my immediate attention. Being disconnected from the computer ignited and entertained a connection to experiencing joy and fun.

Stephanie: Robyn offered me the use of her walking poles which provided instant support on the way down hills and added leverage going up hills. This support gave me confidence and a burst of renewed energy to continue the elevated terrain. We could all do with more collegial support during these times of educational and course delivery changes! Time to catch our breath and notice the sounds around us … the ambience of the forest and started to send me into a deep sense of relaxation.Outside the system my thoughts felt longer, deeper, and more productive. I was not multitasking. I was not being interrupted … I had permission to just ‘be.’ The ideas I had, and decisions I made, seemed to come from my whole body … not just my thinking head! The heart, mind and soul were all working as one.

Natalie: Time! It’s a funny thing, we spend so much time worrying about not having enough of it without realising that we are the only people who can control it. Today, I am taking back the power and deciding not to open emails or deal with anything related to work until the end of the trip. The paddle down the river is beautiful, a relaxing pace, with time to take in my thoughts, connect with Robyn who is in my boat and enjoy being in nature. It was wonderful not to worry about time or feel rushed. The ticking of time is replaced by the slow ebb and flow of the river which is calming and enables me to reset.

Mandie: We enjoyed the quiet and we listened, really listened to each other and to the sounds of nature. Walking through the National Parks we reveled in comfortable silences interspersed with conversation and laughter as we enjoyed being in the moment. No one asked about distance or time. How rare and how soothing it is when time ceases to exist. In our ‘plugged’ world it is also rare to have an extended conversation that is not ended by the phone or the need to be at the next appointment. Our time together was uninterrupted. As the university progresses further into online learning and working from home it was wonderful to have the opportunity to really talk and get to know each other. I also enjoyed seeing everyone so comfortably muddy, dirty, and sweaty, a contrast to our professionally dressed work appearance.

Robyn: Sharing some localised adventures in nature provided a platform for workmates to become friends, as most previously shared interactions were confined to meetings, the university corridors, and the occasional coffee or lunch in our staffroom when our schedules aligned. The two days provided the opportunity to slow down and connect to Country: the Mooloolah River catchment we reside and work in. To share this journey with others was both grounding and rejuvenating, as we had time to explore and rewild, respond to our surroundings, reflect on our professional practices, and connect in an inclusive and supportive environment by slowing down, unplugging and pausing.

Alison: Because we pressed pause on routine, we became better acquainted, enjoyed being in nature, and connected with ourselves, each other and the environment. We were generous to one another without turning it into a competition and we looked out for each other. We weren’t trying to be the first or the best. We were just being. Together. Don’t get me wrong, there was a lot of productive work chatter too. These sideways conversations were such a treasure. All face to face, in real time, without technological support.