Exploring Curriculum for Science Education: Lessons from a Mexican Biosphere Reserve

Abstract

Exploring science as a collective undertaking embedded in sociocultural contexts is a critical aspect of science education. This article concerns questions of curriculum design for science education for young learners, and it reports findings of a study on a conservation and environmental education initiative in Mexico’s Sierra de Huautla Biosphere Reserve. Using situational analysis to study this case, I discovered that conservation projects and the science behind them are seldom framed as situated within complex social factors; yet these factors often drive decisions about the environment and can drastically affect what is taught in science curriculums. Presenting science in all its complexity can make science curriculums ‘live’ and can help students understand science as instrumental in addressing challenges that society confronts today.

Keywords

Situational analysis science–society interface conservation of biodiversity science curriculum

Introduction

For sometime now, researchers have documented and expressed concerns that science, as it is presently taught in schools, is neither practical nor relevant for students (Lynch, Kuipers, Pyle, & Szeeze, 2005; National Research Council, 2014). This situation has led to an increasing decline in students’ interest in and appreciation of science (Krajcik, Czerniak, & Berger, 2003). However, a growing body of research suggests that science as taught in places outside schools, in real-world contexts such as museums, botanical gardens, zoos, or nature parks, has the potential to offer authentic learning opportunities for students, and to meaningfully demonstrate its actual applicability (Decristan et al., 2015; Tavares, Silva, & Bettencourt, 2015; Schweingruber et al., 2014; Vedder & Fortus, 2011). This is a powerful means to offset the ongoing disengagement with science programmes that we see in the current science curriculum in many formal school settings (Dettweiler et al., 2015).

In recent years, this trend towards science programmes in a variety of outdoor and informal settings has begun to receive strong support and investment by international granting agencies (Sewell, 2015), with research to back its effectiveness (Fiennes et al., 2015). The research shows that, overall, outdoor science education programmes are effective when the activities included are project-driven, and when alternatives make it possible to present content experientially (Dettweiler et al., 2015; Sproule et al., 2013; Thomas & Muller, 2014). Several studies have reported that outdoor science education programmes can strengthen students’ collaborative skills and overall motivation for learning science content (Bentsen et al., 2009; Fjørtoft, 2001; Mygind, 2007). Researchers have also reported that outdoor science education programmes have positive results on the physical activity levels of participating students (Humberstone, 2001; Mygind, 2007).

Research on science outdoor education programmes has largely focused on the effectiveness of the interventions, while paying less attention to the curriculum behind these interventions (Allin & Humberstone, 2010; Behrendt & Franklin, 2014; Rios & Brewer, 2014). This research adds to the conversation of outdoor science education programmes by inquiring into the curriculum design and implementation of these programmes (Bang & Marin, 2015). It responds to the gap in our understanding of outdoor science education by providing a close, sustained look at the practices that inform outdoor science curriculum design. In this article, I will explore the science education and curriculum programme currently implemented in a Mexican Outdoor Science Education Programme: Sierra de Huautla Biosphere Reserve (SHBR). I wanted to understand how conceptual notions of environmental science and conservation were agreed upon and communicated to the students in this particular outdoor science education programme. By looking at this case, we can gain insight into other similar science education programmes currently implemented in outdoor settings.

The article proceeds as follows: the first section offers a description of the research site including the types of education programmes developed in the area. The second section describes the methods used in the study and the main findings. Finally, the third section connects the findings with implications for science education curriculum and approaches to scientific literacy for K-12 students.

Research Site: Sierra De Huautla Outdoor Education Programme

Sierra de Huautla Biosphere Reserve comprises 5,900 ha, protecting what has been described as the largest tract of tropical dry forest (TDF) remaining in Mexico. The SHBR is located in the Mexican state of Morelos. Morelos is an important conservation region because it has been described as one of the most biodiverse states for species diversity. Thus, there is much interest in Mexico in protecting this natural area, and many environmental efforts are underway (Durand & Vázquez, 2011; Toledo, 2005; Trejo & Dirzo, 2000).

Biosphere Reserves (BRs) are natural protected areas conceived by the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO) as integrative conservation models that reconcile the needs of human and natural environments. Most BRs include formal and informal partnerships with a range of interested organizations, including education institutions and universities (Bonilla-Moheno & Garcia-Frapolli, 2012; Halfter, 2011; Stairs, 2007). This is particularly true for Latin America where in recent decades, BRs have become the dominant model for the conservation of ecosystems (Alonso-Yanez, 2013; Bezaury-Creel & Gutierrez-Carbonell, 2009; Chapin, 2004; Heinen, 2012; Rodriguez et al., 2007). Within the Latin American conservation landscape, Mexico is currently home to the largest number of BRs (41 in total) with ongoing and strong partnerships with universities and research institutions (CONANP, 2016).

Since its official decree in 1999 as a reserve, SHBR has been co-managed by the National Commission of Natural Protected Areas (CONANP), a centre for scientific research established when this BR was created. Local communities inhabiting the area are also part of the working arrangements along with one non-governmental organization (NGO).

At the time of my study, the research centre managing the BR was divided into three departments: two conducting research in natural aspects of the reserve and one conducting research in the social aspects of the reserve. Scientists in the social science department focused their research on integrating human and natural environments by developing BR-based conservation strategies (Valenzuela, 2011). This department was also responsible for designing and implementing science education programmes and outreach activities in the area.

Science Education Programmes in SHBR

Education is a significant component of SHBR activities, where most of staff time is spent on a curriculum devoted to generation science and conservation of biodiversity. This curriculum draws on teaching materials and teacher resources from many elementary school programmes. Members of the research centre and local community inhabitants also worked together to design interpretive trails (walking trails to provide participants with knowledge of the area), which were part of the outreach programmes offered to schools participating in fieldtrips and science camps. Since its inception, the research centre has also developed a series of public outreach projects to local communities and schools to generate awareness of the region’s biodiversity as well as its education programmes. For instance, the research centre staff developed educational resources, posters, leaflets and banners about animal and plant species (Reyes & Dorantes, 2007). The research centre also established radio and TV shows for biodiversity-related outreach, in partnership with the state university and the state government office of communication; the focus here was on offering local news and environmental educational programming.

At the time of this study, the research centre operated two biological research stations in the communities of El Limon and Quilamula where most field trips and science outreach programmes were delivered. Local inhabitants participated to various degrees in these projects: as local guides, para-taxonomists (work which consists of assisting research staff in identifying plants and animals for interpretive trails), or co-designers and developers of teaching material. The educational materials developed at SHBR are used in formal as well as non-formal programmes, implemented through outdoor, place-based, science education in Morelos and other Mexican states.

There are several agencies providing financial support to produce materials and teach resources, including two of the largest Mexican NGOs: the National Commission for the Knowledge and Use of Biodiversity (CONABIO) and the Mexican Fund for Natural Conservation (FMCN). These agencies are in charge of distributing teaching materials and outreach resources nationwide through biodiversity fairs and conservation events. In particular, CONABIO describes its mission as promoting awareness about the conservation of natural ecosystems in Mexico by sponsoring outreach, community-led projects (CONABIO, 2012a, 2012b). CONABIO’s website offers a direct link to science education materials for teachers interested in finding resources according to grade level (CONABIO, 2012a, 2012b).

I was interested in answering two questions:

What collective endeavours underpinned research and science curriculum design in SHBR?

What knowledge was presented to the public, and how was it presented?

Given that my research focused on the actual practices of the academics and community members involved, it was informed primarily by ground-level qualitative work. I used situational analysis as my primary method to collect and analyse data.

Situational Analysis

Situational analysis is an extension of the grounded theory method (Clarke, 2005; Clarke, Friese, & Washburn, 2015) and thus includes the basic methods of grounded theory such as coding in stages (open, axial and selective coding), constant comparative analysis and theoretical sampling. Analysis begins as data start to be collected; that is, it is not necessary to wait until all data have been collected to begin this aspect of the research. SA supplemented my use of GT in my study in three important ways:

The focus of analysis in SA is the ‘situation’ broadly conceived. In the case of my study, the focus was the ‘situation of research and science curriculum design in SHBR’. Rather than focusing on a ‘basic social process’ such as ‘designing curriculum’ (Clarke, 2005), focusing on the broader situation allowed me to include elements of varied character and to describe their relevance in the situation and their relations with other factors and elements.

SA places importance in non-human elements as constitutive of the situation under analysis. These non-human actors can be biophysical sites, technological devices, research infrastructure and tools for knowledge production. Such elements are also constitutive of the situation and have the same weight in terms of their analytical value. Therefore, guided by questions such as: What enables access? Who has access to what?, my analysis elucidated ‘differences’ (Schwalbe et al., 2000) in terms of access to infrastructure of both scientists and local community inhabitants and made visible the impossibility of local inhabitants applying for funding independently.

The SA offers a means to analyse ‘silences’ in the data, through explicit project design and data gathering activities (Clarke, 2005). This attention to silence was useful when deciding what data to collect. For instance, it was relatively easy to gather documents authored by scientists and government staff. However, I did not find records or documents about local culture authored by community inhabitants. The paucity of such data led me to develop further questions about the role that community inhabitants actually played in the design of curriculum materials about SHBR.

Situational analysis relies on maps as the central analytical tool. These diagrams address the situation at different levels of analysis. I used situational maps and social worlds/arenas maps.

Situational Maps

These cover humans, non-humans, materialities (e.g., human or naturally made settings/materials), symbolic elements, technologies, political orders and any other elements that seem relevant to or operative in the situation under study. In this study, I used the situational map to record all the salient human and non-human elements in the situation. I developed questions about relations among and between elements, and described those relations fully. What was interesting here was exploring relations that were hard to describe or that seem non-existent. Throughout the study, this became an iterative process where I cycled back and forth through these various steps.

Data Collection

I used three data sources to examine the collective activities behind the research, science curriculum design and science communication: I have grouped them as interviews (N-19), textual sources (N-34) and participant observations in the field, including schools fieldtrips to the site (N-6). Textual sources included: SHBR educational materials, regulatory documents, and scientific literature that related to the characterization and contemporary research on the TDF ecosystem—such as scientific databases, journal articles and reports from major conservation agencies.

I interviewed participants from each of the groups that established working arrangements in Sierra de Huautla: (a) research centre staff, (b) governmental agency and (c) local inhabitants. The criterion for local community participants was that they had to have participated or be currently participating in conservation projects—with an educational component—with the research centre or government staff. The teaching materials included in the analysis were those mentioned by participants during the interviews. Participants were asked to name examples of outreach projects carried out in collaboration with local community inhabitants. To ensure a uniform sample of materials with an outreach and education focus, I included materials that were developed and published with funding from the CONABIO, which (as explained previously) sponsors education outreach and community-based projects in Mexico.

The charts below identify these data sources.

Interviews
Organization	Description	Activity	Amount
CONANP Government Office	Regional office director	Responsible for supervising all BRs in the central region of Mexico	1
	Regional office staff member	In charge of supervising operation of projects and funding resources	2
Local inhabitants from Quilamula and El Limon communities	Community members	Participate in design of education materials and activities—local guides and para-taxonomists	7
	Social scientists who develop science education activities and materials	Conduct research on the area and develop education materials in collaboration with local inhabitants	9
Total			19
TEXTUAL SOURCES			Amount
Research centre annual reports (2009–2013)			4
Journal articles (scientific characterization of SHBR)			15
Application forms and terms of reference for CONABIO funding			6
Teaching resources (Manuals, booklets and school resources)			9
Total			34
FIELD OBSERVATION			Amount
School fieldtrips			4
Design of interpretive trail field work			2
Total			6

Data Analysis

All interviews were transcribed in translated format. The segments were uploaded into NVivo, a qualitative data analysis computer software package. Interview data were analysed through coding. Initially, I sorted the data searching for commonalities, which lead to codes and themes, and subsequently, I recoded for meaning. The data consisting of documents and textual materials were uploaded as PDF files into NVivo. The NVivo platform provided a way to link codes and assign colours to instances of themes across more than one data source—documents and interviews.

Situational Map

To construct my ‘research in science curriculum’ situational map for SHBR (Figure 1), I asked: Who and what matters in conservation knowledge production in SHBR? Who and what is involved in producing knowledge about SHBR? The situational analysis was useful in developing interview questions for participants. It also directed my choices for data collection. For instance, I gathered documents concerned with the characterization of the BR—specifically, scientific and regulatory documents.

Figure 1 shows the situational map used to analyse various elements within the situation. This map is quite dense and reflects the wide array of human and non-human elements situation of inquiry as I came to understand it across the trajectory of the project. The map includes major collective actors and communities in the situation of inquiry, including scientists working for government agencies, individuals from the community, founders of the SHBR and political representatives from the local community. What stands out in addition to these human actors are the numerous non-human elements that matter deeply in this situation. There is scientific knowledge, local knowledge, and the tools and technologies for knowledge production. The elements and relations highlighted in Figure 1 helped me interrogate more fully who/what was enrolled in knowledge production and who/what enabled expertise about SHBR. I selected tools as a focal point because I was interested in how conservation work was accomplished in the SHBR and I knew that tools of various sorts were important in this work. By focusing on tools and technologies in the relational map, I gained greater insight into the range of tools employed in the SHBR and the varied types of work these tools enabled. This also pushed me to think about the politics of tools, especially those used for producing knowledge about the SHBR, and how tools were assigned different values by different stakeholders in terms of having ‘legitimate expertise’ in developing curriculum content. The map includes numerous technological and material devices that are part of that process.

Figure 1

Source: Author’s own.

Social Worlds/Arenas Map

This map represents the social, collective realm of situations. Here, the focus is on exploring the negotiations, controversies and organizational activities of collective actors. Social worlds are groups of individuals who can be members of different collectives, organizations and institutions within the situation. These are described as groups with shared actions and shared concerns. In this case, I focused on the collective that worked together in developing outreach resources. This social world was not delimited by pregiven social organizations, but rather by individuals from various groups (scientists, NGO staff members, local community inhabitants) who came together and designed curriculum content. The map was helpful to investigate and explore closely key self-organized collectives with possibilities (or not) of decision-making in the situation.

To construct the social worlds/arenas map for this research project (Figure 2), I asked: What salient groups operate at SHBR when designing education interventions? What do the group members hope to achieve through their collective action? What knowledge is prioritized and showcased most often?

Looking at Figure 2, we see a wide array of social worlds and subworlds active in the broader arena of SHBR conservation and particular social worlds involved in developing and communicating science and conservation curriculum. The map includes local communities. Based on the interviews and on data collection gathered about each social world, I realized that these communities are implicated actors rather than self-organized collective actors in the reserve. They are also constructed as implicated actors in conservation discourses, especially in official documents that support the participatory conservation model. However, they are not organized collective actors.

The social worlds/arenas maps further pushed me to ask questions related to the content of the education materials that I analysed. For instance, I considered what type of information (knowledge) was prioritized and how local perspectives were incorporated into the materials. Therefore, I analysed educational materials using an indexing approach in which I listed the presence of salient content and documented its prevalence across the sample of materials (N = 9). I analysed their content based on the social worlds/arenas maps, considering what type of information (knowledge) was prioritized and how local perspectives were incorporated into the materials. Initially, I derived content-oriented categories:

What?—Type of information that is presented: for example, scientific names or local names

Who?—Authors and acknowledgements

Whose perspective?—Scientific versus customary language or terminology

Figure 2

Source: Author’s own.

Findings from the data interpretation fall into two main groups, explained in detail below:

A simplified Version of a Complex Ecosystem

The concept of ‘tropical dry forest ecosystem’ was itself a contested category as the inclusion criteria vary across researchers and local inhabitants. For instance, local community inhabitants, when interviewed, characterized the SHBR ecosystem as a very complex landscape with changes occurring constantly due to the agricultural practices and government reforestation interventions in the region. For instance, one female participant described:

I was born here, and I have seen the changes in landscapes over the years. There are many new trees and new vegetation that have been introduced by governments. The government has programs for reforestation and they bring different plants to the area. Those introduced plants change the landscape.

An interview with a local authority also provided examples of the wide variety of vegetation that existed in SHBR and the difficulty of characterizing it in a single homogeneous way:

I was part of a study done by the government: the plan for forest management back in 1995. This was way before they established the “Biosphere project.” I remember that government staff came and made a study in three communities at the same time. I was the ‘ejido’ commissioner and I had to work with them closely. They wanted to have a document with a profile of the area. The work was to list and monitor plant species found on each site. There were a lot of different plants. The vegetation changed according to the landscape. For instance, there are a lot of cliffs and canyons and the plants there keep water most of the year. Also, you have large areas with plantations and crops that have been there for a long time, but those were not included in the lists.

To learn about the characterization of ‘tropical dry forest’ conserved in the region, I used citation databases to trace when and how tropical dry forests came to the attention of the scientific community. I searched Thomson Reuters Web of Science on the topic ‘tropical dry forest’ and noted the number of published articles from 1967 to 2000—on the premise that publication volume is an indicator of scientific work on the TDF ecosystem. Overall, the scientific literature presents tropical dry forests as the most ‘diverse’ forests in the world, with major occurrences in southern Mexico and Bolivia. This diversity refers specifically to the variety of ecosystems coexisting within tropical dry regions. Within the scientific community, some limit the description of the ecosystem to deciduous trees (Alvarez-Añorve et al., 2012; Trejo & Dirzo, 2000), while others argue that it includes more diverse vegetation, such as grasslands, shrublands, savannah ecosystems and mangroves. Particularly in Mexico, TDFs reveal remarkable biological diversity, especially in their range of vegetation from mangroves to shrublands. This diversity sometimes makes it hard to distinguish TDF vegetation from other types of vegetation. It is evident that TDFs are not homogeneous ecosystems with clear-cut, easily identifiable biological attributes and boundaries, but rather a complex entanglement of biophysical arrangements.

Despite debates over the characterization of tropical dry forest, and the classification attempts by the scientific community, most science education and public outreach materials I analysed in this study offered a more straightforward—oversimplified and homogeneous—description of TDF ecosystem to the public who came to the SHBR. Even though the materials acknowledged that ecosystems are complex and dynamic, they stated that the natural protected area covered by tropical dry forest is an ecosystem composed of ‘deciduous trees’ characterized by ‘short canopy trees with long leafless periods occurring in the dry season’ (CONABIO, 2006; CONABIO, 2012a, 2012b). This description did not accurately capture the complexity of biological features existing in this natural system, mislead by presenting a simplified, unproblematic view of the so-called natural characteristics of the tropical dry forest conserved in SHBR (Perez-Garcia, Gallardo, & Meave, 2005; Star, 1983). This simplification was further evident in the education content showcased in the fieldtrip interpretive trails, which included only descriptions of tropical dry forest as composed by ‘short trees with non-perennial leaves’ (CONABIO, 2012a, 2012b; CONABIO, 2006). Similarly, most educational outlets presented TDF as a homogeneous entity because this greatly facilitated the teaching of natural science concepts and topics that aligned with the state curriculum. In summary, science education materials and interpretive trails presented the TDF ecosystem in simplified ways, despite the fact that its characterization by the scientific community is a complex and contested one.

Lack of Local Input

Local inhabitants, with their local knowledge of the region, are considered an intrinsic component in the development of the science education curriculum (including educational resources and outreach activities) in SHBR. However, my data analysis revealed that community participation and inclusion of local knowledge are largely rhetorical. For instance, I did a basic word frequency count of the words ‘local participation’ in the research centre annual reports for the years 2009–2013. The document search showed that this term was used around 25–30 times in these reports, which were approximately 40 pages long. The relevance of community participation, as a strategic objective, was also articulated in the scientists’ own interviews, texts, regulatory manuals and government reports. The following quotes (from the 2011 annual research report and the SHBR Management Plan) serve as examples of how local community participation is, at least in principle, a guiding value:

We need to implement a series of comprehensive projects that address the needs of SHBR residents and allow them to be full participants in conservation projects. Among these projects (developed by researchers from the research centre and whose development requires external funding) we can mention a few: the training of local community inhabitants to participate as community environmental guides, and the development of the SHBR Museum, where education interventions will be offered to the general public. (Research Centre Annual Report, 2011)

In order to continue the work of conservation in SHBR it is important to include local community inhabitants and to learn from them the ways in which they have used and conserved the resources. Local knowledge of the area is fundamental and it is the reason why the area has been preserved for so long. (SHBR Management Plan, p. 90)

The word ‘participation’ in the Management Plan appeared 33 times (total of 207 pages). Direct references to examples of participation in the Management Plan, however, were mentioned in the context of local inhabitants agreeing to donate areas of land to build field stations and to design interpretive trails. While community participation was emphasized as a fundamental part of both strategic planning and implementation, it was quite evident, ironically, that a paucity of recorded data existed that could indicate active participation or critical involvement (often than enrolment in training programmes, service positions or management projects).

My analysis of the teaching materials also provided examples that showed local knowledge was absent in the science education materials. The following table presents the teaching materials that were analysed and the featured content that the analysis identified:

Teaching material	What? (Content includes local knowledge: for example, local use of plants for medicinal or other use)	Who? (1. Authors are or include local community members. 2. Local community members acknowledged)	Whose perspective? (Content includes customary language/terminology)
Trees almanac	X
Floristic almanac
Reptiles almanac		X
Board game	X		X
Board game
Informative postcards
Informative posters
Information booklet		X
Information booklet		X

Most teaching materials presented scientific information about plants and animals that included scientific names for biological specimens, with an evident lack of inclusion of species that were culturally relevant. The following insights emerged about the nine materials I analysed:

Only two materials’ content included perspectives on local ways of living and using natural resources

Three materials acknowledged the collaboration of local community guides and field station workers

Only one material showcasing plants and animals of the region included common or local names

Analysis of the documents showed that these characteristics may occur because scientists and government staff have within their reach a wide variety of resources: financial, textual, technological, symbolic and regulatory. All of these resources give them a ‘voice’ and grant them the capacity to act, define, decide and implement a certain view of which knowledge is worth showcasing in SHBR. For instance, most funding to develop teaching materials and outreach activities was granted to individual scientists as part of larger research projects.

Access to resources is the means by which an external actor’s agenda for local community inclusion is realized and legitimated. Conversely, local inhabitants did not have access to these mechanisms, resources, sites, devices and codes. I found evidence of the impossibility of local community inhabitants to access resources on their own and to approach funding agencies for resources independently by exploring the application forms and terms of reference of CONABIO funding process (CONABIO, 2006; CONABIO, 2012a, 2012b). For instance, to access financial support for a project granted by CONABIO, applicants are required to obtain the generic application forms and terms of reference by downloading them from the website. The application has required fields for academic credentials and institutional affiliation. Additional information includes background of the project, project rationale and detailed budget description. Complete applications have to be sent via e-mail to the project evaluation department. Applying independently for a project is a seemingly impossible task for local community inhabitants who, most fundamentally, have no access to computers.

This inability to access computers to initiate, design or outline projects is a real constraint for the establishment of truly bottom-up project development, where local inhabitants and extra local actors collaborate in equal fashion. Community inhabitants were not capable of representing themselves within the conservation narrative existing in SHBR.

Discussion

The purpose of my study was to explore the science education and curriculum programme currently implemented in a Mexican BR. Above, I described what underpins a particular outdoor science curriculum:

I found that scientific knowledge about the environment in this particular science education programme is often presented in its final form, unaccompanied by information about how knowledge production happens. Scientific knowledge production is presented in isolation from other forms of knowledge and other institutional, societal and political realms in which scientific products are created. But such additional factors deserve acknowledgement if not equal weight in the design and development of science curriculum, especially for local education purposes.

True collaborations between scientific and non-scientific actors rarely happen, particularly in conservation projects that have an educational component. This is reflected in the character of education interventions and the content communicated to the public. Collective endeavours are not easily achievable and require future generations to envision ways of bringing indigenous/local knowledge into a contemporary context and to integrate diverse knowledge systems.

In the light of my research findings, this study provides significant implications for curriculum design and approaches to science education more broadly:

The teaching of science requires an operating principle in which curricular activities are designed to focus on science in the making rather than ready-made science. Rather than teaching isolated topics, disconnected and rushed, science can be engaged by learners as an area of research that is alive with puzzles, contradictions and new areas of inquiry they can jump into. Such an orientation can be strengthened by the idea that science and society are linked, generating science–society interfaces. This would help young learners become aware that there exists an ongoing politics of science. For example, there might be scientific facts that are very compelling but which are suppressed by powerful sociopolitical forces. For various reasons, often short-term economic goals.

Real-world environmental problems do not easily map onto curriculum subject areas, and it is increasingly evident that no academic discipline or field of practice can address environmental challenges alone. It is important that researchers and educators connect with local knowledge and local, situated forms of understanding nature and regional ecologies. Effective collaborations between scientific and non-scientific actors rarely happen, particularly in conservation projects that have an educational component. This is reflected in the character of education interventions and the content communicated to the public.

From a methodological point of view, this study offers a contribution to the ongoing conversation about science education by calling for situational analyses—site-specific explorations of curriculum development and implementation of outdoor science education programmes. A sustained, close-range focus on site-grounded evidence offers a rich and more accurate perspective on the conditions that actually shape science education designs, and on the educational experiences, these designs structure and promote in learners.

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