Last Child in the Woods
Notes on an important book & reflections from a family camping trip on the art of disconnecting to reconnect with the world and each other..
Upcoming Event: Join me on August 18th for a fun event hosted at the Chattahoochee Nature Center in Roswell, Georgia! I’ll have copies of The Plant Hunter available for sale and signings, plus some treasures from the Emory Herbarium on display. In addition to a short lecture, we’ll be blending teas and making an herbarium keepsake to take home. More details and tickets available on the CNC website.
We started our springtime weekend adventure with tears. Our family minivan was packed with gear—sleeping bags, two tents, a camp stove, hammocks, and food in the cooler. Our two dogs yipped and yapped from their kennel, ready to hit the road. We had three of our four kids with us, our eldest away at college. When the kids were younger, we used to go camping all the time, but with weekend sports activities, yard work, and academic commitments, our trips to state and national parks had become less frequent.
The tears came from our teens following a last minute decision to leave the cell phones and other electronic gadgetry behind. “It’s not fair,” they complained. “I’ll only use it in the car,” they promised. “I need my music," they groused. After locking up the phones, I grabbed some books off of our crammed bookshelves and jumped in the car, giving my husband, Marco, the signal to go. Marco and I brought our phones for navigation and photos, but planned to actually leave them in the car and avoid getting sucked into emails and social media while on the trip.
Clearly, I am the meanest mom in the world to deny them their electronics.
The stack of books I’d grabbed included Ed Yong’s “I Contain Multitudes”, Andrés Ruzo’s “The Boiling River”, and Richard Louv’s “Last Child in the Woods”. I tossed the first two into the back seat for the kids and dug into Louv’s book, as the theme seemed appropriate to the challenges underlying our trip’s difficult start.
After an hour, tempers cooled and like in the days of my childhood, they had the options of either reading a book or looking out of the car window at things we passed on our drive. As we moved from the interstate to country backroads in our route to Cloudland Canyon State Park located in a tiny corner of NW Georgia, the ohhs and ahhs began. We drove past meadows dotted with spring wildflowers where horses stood grazing the fresh green grass. We commented on rustic country barns and the various styles of houses passed on our drive. Instead of looking into a device in solitude and silence, they’d begun to look out into the world and share their observations with each other.
We arrived at our campsite just before sunset and hustled to set up our tents before full darkness set in. They went to bed soon after. They wanted to reach the waterfalls before the rest of the hikers descended on the area and made me promise to wake them up early to start the trek down into the canyon before sunrise.
To my surprise, they stayed true to their word, and the teens took off with the dogs to the waterfall trail just as the first soft rays of daybreak emerged. They didn’t return to the campsite until midday for a late lunch, bursting with stories of their morning adventure.
In less than 24 hours, their mood was greatly improved, they felt the benefit of physical exercise, and they came away with stories to share with their family and friends. What a stark contrast this was to another typical weekend in which they interact with peers virtually over video games or scroll through hundreds of short video clips on social media sites like TikTok or Instagram!
What has unfortunately become the “norm” for teenage social engagement today are the very activities that lead to increased risk of depression, isolation, and decreased physical activity. Richard Louv called this out 20 years ago. What have we learned since then?
Nature Deficit Disorder and Mental Health
Louv’s 2005 book brought the concept of “Nature Deficit Disorder (NDD)” into the public discourse. It was considered a radical concept to some at the time, but for many others (including myself) it seems spot on and continues to be so especially today.
NDD is a non-medical term that refers to the negative effects of people spending less time in nature. For children, this is thought to lead to numerous issues spanning physical and psychological health, as well as behavioral problems. NDD has been tied to attention difficulties, higher risk for physical and psychological illness, increased levels of aggression, poor school performance, and diminished use of the senses.
Recent studies note that the average American child spends 5-8 hours a day in front of a screen, and yet only 4-7 minutes on average per day in unstructured outdoor play.
How have we as a society reached the point where parents must push against cultural norms to create a healthier environment for children and even for ourselves? That we are forced to be the “mean parents” by limiting access to screen time. The saddest part is that for those children who don't have opportunities to spend time in nature at home, or facilitated by family and friends, they also aren't getting those opportunities at school.
The Gen X Mindset
I count myself fortunate to have been born in the generation that knew life before the internet existed. The majority of my childhood was spent outside—in fact we weren’t allowed inside the house during large chunks of the weekends. We spent that time outdoors with kids in the neighborhood climbing trees, playing games of our own design, and were generally covered head to toe in dirt and ant bites at the end of most days. When thirsty, we had the water hose to drink out of. It was a different time to be sure, without the temptations of social media platforms designed with algorithms formulated to draw us in and keep us scrolling for hours on end.
The Takeaway
My greatest wish for my children is to give them at least a taste of that Gen X childhood, with its connectivity to the world and each other. There is so much we all miss out on when kept separate from nature. I have always been happiest and felt healthiest when I dedicate part of my day to the outdoors—whether it's walking around my neighborhood, biking on a trail, or puttering about in my garden.
How about you? What are your thoughts and experiences with nature? Do you feel a connection to your own health—do you notice a change in mood in yourself and others after spending time outdoors?
For any parents among the readers, have you had similar experiences with your children or grandchildren? Or do you have any advice on how to help kids disconnect from tech and reconnect with the world? I'd love to hear from you.
Yours in health,
Dr. Quave
Cassandra L. Quave, Ph.D. is a Guggenheim Fellow, CNN Champion for Change, Fellow of the National Academy of Inventors, and award-winning author of The Plant Hunter. Her day job is as professor and herbarium curator at Emory University School of Medicine, where she leads a group of research scientists studying medicinal plants to find new life-saving drugs from nature. She hosts the Foodie Pharmacology podcast and writes the Nature’s Pharmacy newsletter to share the science behind natural medicines. To support her effort, consider a paid or founding subscription and tax-deductible donation to her lab research.
I would not be a functioning human without lots of time in nature, usually by myself. I love to botanize, photograph, and just be, in nature.