“Trust the Process”: A Conversation on Nature, Motherhood, and Leading Outdoors

The outdoor education space is an interesting one to occupy in today’s world. Historically people associate this type of  environment with men, yet when it comes to child rearing we envision women. In reflecting on the role of women in outdoor education, here’s what founder and director of Nature Plays Pamela Martinez has to say on the topic, as well as some details on how she ended up in this space.

This conversation took place on a sunny hill, next to the river between Engracia, one of our forest school facilitators and assistants and Pamela.

Rather want to listen to this interview? We’ve got you, busy mamas and papas. Click below to play the interview

1. Origin stories – how loving nature led to educating in nature

It started with our small family trips into nature when I was younger and we used to go camping with my cousins and our best plans were waking up early on Saturday mornings while the adults were still doing their own things and we packed a backpack with snacks, water, band-aids and we adventured into the hills, just us, with my pack of cousins. And I can still remember that feeling of adventure, the excitement of it and the extremity.

We had no adults around, although the tents weren’t far away from us, it felt so special and a big adventure. I also spent some time much later in the Peruvian mountains working as an anthropologist and even when I was far and on my own, I always recall finding so much peace and a deep connection to the people around and to nature.

And I always wanted to know more, more about the trees, the vegetation in the area, to understand how it works, how people related to these spaces.

And I think I fell in love with that feeling, that feeling of being in awe of nature and filled with curiosity and amazement. It was really, really special times that I’ve always shared in nature and especially surrounded by mountains and there’s always joy in those memories. Much later, when I had kids, I wanted to spend most of our time outside with them. Gardening, going on nature walks, river play, with no agenda but following their lead. And I noticed how good it was for all of us. So I couldn’t stop learning. I read and volunteered at an outdoor education farm that had a beautiful program. And that taught me more about unstructured play, child-led and risky play. I was hooked and when my younger one was one year old, I went back to studying and became a forest school practitioner.

And I think I fell in love with that feeling, that feeling of being in awe of nature and filled with curiosity and amazement. It was really, really special times that I’ve always shared in nature and especially surrounded by mountains and there’s always joy in those memories. Much later, when I had kids, I wanted to spend most of our time outside with them.

2. Women in education – what we’ve experienced

I love that idea of following that feeling of awe and curiosity. And I think it’s interesting that it started so young as well, that sense of adventure and independence you experienced as a child, eventually becoming something you wanted to create for your own children.

Looking beyond our own journey and thinking about the wider education space, how do you see the role of women in education? I mean, particularly in the early years, and how do you think that shows up in the outdoor classroom?

Education, especially in the early years, has always been carried largely by women, but often without the recognition, status or influence that should come with that responsibility. Women are the ones on the ground every day, holding the emotional weight of children, noticing the small things and doing the repetitive, often invisible work that quietly shapes a child’s development.

These qualities are sometimes dismissed as being soft or simply intuitive, when in reality they require immense skill, experience and emotional intelligence. So in the outer classroom I find there is an interesting paradox. So nature doesn’t care about hierarchy, titles or authority. It asks for presence, patience, observation and the ability to respond to what is happening in the moment.

I think many women naturally excel in this kind of leadership. I see it in my team every day, the way they read a child, they sense the energy of a group, they know when to step in with support and when to step back and allow a challenge or a manageable risk to unfold. That isn’t simply instinct, I think that’s expertise developed through practice and deep attentiveness. At the same time, it’s interesting that outdoor education is far from a gentle or passive profession, it is deeply physical, we are always hiking, carrying big backpacks, climbing trees, making fires, getting muddy, and comforting a child one moment and encouraging them to scramble over rocks the next. So there is something beautiful about the balance. It asks of us being fully present in both mind and body, combining care with a lot of courage.

One observation I continue to make is that when people think about the technical aspects of outdoor education, using tools, building shelters and making fires, they often picture men. Yet when they think about nurturing, emotional development and early childhood, they picture women. These assumptions limit all of us, I think.

I would love to see more crossover, more women confidently leading the practical and technical aspects of outdoor learning and more men bringing their presence and their care and sensitivity into the early years. Children benefit from seeing that strength and that tenderness, that competence and compassion are human qualities rather than gendered ones.

Well, perhaps that is one of the greatest lessons that nature offers us. That diversity creates resilience and that the more varied the people guiding children, the richer the understanding of what leadership, care and capability can look like. Like in nature, the more colours, shapes and diversity that the environment is, the richer it is. And I think the same happens with humans.

I also think there’s something powerful in children, especially boys, seeing women lead outdoors, climbing trees with them, getting muddy, making decisions about risk and safety confidently. I think it quietly teaches them that women belong in these spaces too, not just as carers, but as leaders, as people who know the land, who know how to guide adventure. Yeah, I didn’t expect to be a role model in that particular way, but I think it matters more than we talk about it.

3. Thoughts on care and leadership

There’s really so much in everything that you’ve just said. And I mean, especially the idea that qualities like care and observation and emotional intelligence can be mistaken for something that is simply natural to women rather than recognizing them as real skills and forms of expertise.

And I also really like what you said about the outdoor classroom challenging some of those traditional ideas of what strength and leadership look like. Because you can be nurturing and still be the person lighting the fire. It’s also such a powerful message for the children to witness too, particularly when they’re still forming those ideas of who gets to lead and who gets to be adventurous.

So bringing it back to you personally and perhaps to that younger version of yourself who was just beginning this journey, if you could go back and give your youngest self one piece of advice before starting forest school, what would you say?

Well, that’s a good one. Definitely to trust more in the process, to trust the children, to trust nature and not to rush it. It all comes together at its own time.

The big picture on generosity

In our experience, all children have the seeds of kindness and caring within them. With enough guided awareness and thoughtfulness and of course ample time in nature, away from the fast paced visual over-stimulation and distraction of media and gamification – children become naturally softer and more mindful of the needs of their environment. It’s our job as parents and educators to water these seeds within them.

We hope these Madiba day activities inspire not only 67 minutes of generosity but lifestyle habits around caring for our fellow human, plant and animal kin.

If you enjoy these types of activities, you may also like the community connection section in this article on Turning worry into wonder filled with tips on environmental acts of kindness and empowerment.