Lessons from the Amazon - Executive Perspective - Brief Article

School Administrator, Feb, 2002 by Paul D. Houston

As we bumped along the rutted road taking us to the boat that would be home for the next week, we strained our eyes to pierce the dark undergrowth for a first glimpse of the Amazon River. Once the bus stopped, we walked across a rickety dock to approach La Tourmalina, our home for the next few days. We rushed on deck for our first real glance of the great Amazon, a river we had known in our imagination and from our 4-th grade geography lessons.

And there it was, stretching almost as far as the eye could see snaking off almost infinitely into the moonlight--home to headhunters, anacondas and piranhas. The Amazon, more than a river, a spark to imagination that stirs the spirit of adventure. And now, here I was, ready for a week taking it all in.

The trip was an opportunity to see the rain forest--the lungs of the earth--while it was still there. The vibrant plant life churns out a major portion of the world's supply of oxygen and now greed for another form of green was destroying thousands of its acres a day. The trip afforded me the opportunity to learn about the fragile ecology and the need for maintaining our biodiversity so that new cures for disease may come from the ancient plants found in the jungle. But I learned so much more.

As we churned upriver, we passed primitive villages of the natives. They looked just like what my almost--forgotten elementary geography books described--huts built on stilts with grass roofs and no sides. As we docked at different villages and visited, we found the people friendly while they eked out a pre-agrarian existence. They survived by hunting and gathering. Their lifestyle was in tune with the environment and they suffered little from the diseases that will modem humankind. They die from infections and lack of sanitation.

Each village had a school, usually a ramshackle tin structure in the middle of the village. Certainly they were not the kinds of buildings we send our children to. But then everything is relative. What they were were the best buildings in the village. If it takes a village to raise a child, then those villagers had figured out that their children deserved the best of what they could provide.

It struck me that most of our schools are far from the best buildings in our towns and that we had something to learn from these so-called primitive people.

Whose Control?

Another lesson came from watching the power of the river at work. It would eat away huge chunks of riverbank, with massive trees falling and being swallowed up by the restless water. As we watched this display, we thought that if this river were back in America, the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers would be hustling in to spread acres of concrete along the bank to hold the river back. We asked the boat crew what they did to control the river and they just looked at us. "Sir, the river goes where it will" was the bemused reply.

What a powerful lesson! The river goes where it will. As we educators face the uncertain future of deregulation, the devolution of power to dispersed corners and the fragmented society that we see developing, we are busy building dikes against the flood--not understanding that ultimately the river goes where it will.

The people who live along the Amazon River don't fight it, they accommodate it. They take what the river offers in food and supplies. They use it as their highway. They literally have learned to "go with the flow." Would we as people in the developed world be better served if we took a leaf from their forest?

Fruitless Searching

Another lesson that we received was the day we went in search of dolphins. The Amazon River is home to the only fresh-water dolphins on earth. And they are pink! We went off on a rather lengthy ride in a small boat to see them. After several hours of fruitless searching, no dolphins were to be seen. We made our way back to the Tourmalina and settled in for the evening. The next morning I awoke to sounds of splashing beside the boat. When I went out I found the boat surrounded by dozens of cavorting bright pink dolphins. They had found us.

So much of the time in our business we search fruitlessly for the right answer to our problems. We go on "pink dolphin" chases in search of the elusive solution when, if we would relax, often it will come to us. I believe that in the future much of the education of our children will come to them, rather than children going somewhere to get it. We in the business must learn that our jobs will be as river guides to help them navigate the great muddy waters successfully--not to try to damn up the river and to control the environment. The river goes where it will and so will they.

Paul Houston is AASA executive director.