I usually volunteer for the State Fair Foundation and work at least 9 days at the fair every year. I love the fair. Don't ask me why. I just love the fair.
A week or so ago, I got a series of three emails from someone with the first name of Chris about volunteering at the fair and I just assumed it was Chris at the State Fair Foundation needing last minute volunteers. I jumped in a bit only to discover that it was Chris Benson of the MOU and not the other. My stomach churned a bit as I pondered why I had responded to the MOU email thinking it was the foundation. It happened three times - that I had mistaken the MOU emails for the foundation. Three times. I know what that means. It means I jump. So I jumped into volunteering for 5 shifts at the MOU Birdie Booth. Five 3-hour shifts! And I have never done it before - never stood in front of another human being and pretended I was a birding expert - never stood beneath a sign daring any one to come up and challenge me with any birding question (any!) - never talked about the MOU (heck, I am not even a member although I now am taking the plunge there too!) nor never had any idea what info I represented which lay on the table that could arouse conversation with me the heir apparent of the knowledge, the answers, the wisdom, and blah, blah blah. So my stomach churned as I set myself up for whatever my jumping in after the 3 times would gift me. I had some solace and some trepidation also in that I would be manning my first Birdie Booth solo and on a Saturday and between 3 and 6 pm - prime time for fair goers! (Ask me when prime time fair time is - I know. In fact ask me anything about the fair - I study to know.) My trepidation lie in doing it alone and my solace lie in not having to let any more expert birder catch me in my bull. So now I was setting in motion another experience of the fair - and one where it was possible that I could fail, make mistakes, say the wrong thing, boo-boo, look stupid, be dumb, etc., etc., etc.. Saturday 2 pm. I arrive early to the table on the outside of the busiest attraction of the fair - the DNR Wildlife Building. I meet Anne Hanley and George Skinner - the Noon to 3 folks at the booth. Their names sounded familiar from the list server and man are they sweet folk. I see if they need anything and pause long enough to watch them in action - for there is a steady progression of people ambling by the table stirring up birdie conversation. I am a bit intimidated as George and Anne's responses and conversation certainly sound over MY head. My stomach churns a bit as I search for rubber bands or tape to secure the rolled up posters they are giving away. I return with bargain tape and again watch the pros converse. Boy, do they know their birds! Here I am, their replacement, and the mini-crowds of from 2 to 8 people who seem to constantly present themselves to the gift which is Anne and George, are about to be meeting the new kid. My stomach churns a few times just to keep me humble. Just before I take over, Anne shows me the ropes with signing in and name tags to meet DNR requests and where the supplies are. I realize that suddenly I am in the "inside" of the DNR building - a pass to go where I need to go without anyone asking questions. I even get to use the staff toilet! Yay! When we return to the table, I engage in answering a question about where robin babies go after they fledge. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch the ever fading backs of George and Anne - they have left! I am alone - sort of, if you ignore the dozen or so people who are at the table looking over the papers, posters and books with a few looking at me like they actually read the overhanging sign requesting that they ask me a question about birds. Several become engaged with the where robin babies go and my backyard birding experiences seem right on. I even offer some advice to prove my hypotheses that they could be in the neighboring shrubbery - dig up some worms and put them out and see where the momma robin goes when she snatches them up - and to listen for the IDing peeps the babies make. Was anything I said actually true? It was true to me. And I believe that was what the people at the table wanted to hear. What was true to me. I had a ball the entire three hour shift. Most of the time I was putting temporary ink tatoos on kids and adult hands and arms, several times I had to go through the bird books on the table to help someone identify a bird they saw, and I spoke a lot about MOU and the list server and even about the Audubon clubs in the cities area or where to find one via the internet. Three hours shot by like a wormhole. I was a bit stunned when Derek Bakken touched my shoulder and informed me that he was my replacement. I showed Derek the check-in and supply area and stayed to allow a smooth transition and I wandered off. Truth was, I didn't really want to leave. I was having fun. I loved calling in kids for tatoos and then sharing my passion for birds with them. I loved hearing stories of birdie adventures people had in their backyard and probably had never found anyone who would listen to the entire story in detail and ask questions or beam back the understanding that only a parallel experience could reflect. I had a ball! In two other shifts I got to become a washable tatoo master - including one on the burly bicep of a weight lifter dude who could actually make the hummingbird look like it was flying by flexing his arm. That was complemented with many, many teensie weensie hands of kids from 2 to 45 year old - both male and female. I occasionally found moments to sit down to collect my thoughts and reflect on how cool the whole experience was and how I really didn't have time to evaluate if I knew what I was talking about, if I looked stupid or if I was full of it. I just spoke my passion and the moment handled the rest. When I would walk about the fair following my shift, I would occasionally run into Birdie table visitors who recognized me and jumped into conversation about there experience. On my first solo morning shift, I was greeted by veterans of the booth Barb and Denny Martin who set everything up for me because they knew I was running solo again. Sweet, sweet people and so thoughtful and supportive. They inspired me and reinforced that I just had to be me to have the table work - birdie passionate me. Only once did my formal education and technical interests get called into play. I had asked my girl friend to join me at one of my solo shifts. She has minimal birdie experience but could put on tatoo and listen like a Birdie table pro - deflecting birdie questions to me. Anyway, this group of kids comes up - teens - and they all had notebooks. An adult woman is standing off to one side as I am hawking tatoos and handouts about MOU free talks and birding opportunities. Suddenly the woman leans in and asks "Could you talk to them about how the Federal Government deals with birds?". I was momentarily stunned. I just looked at her and said "What?". She rewords it a little but with the same meat. I ask "Do you mean how the feds protect birds or habitat?" She says yes and it was at this point that I realized that I could have answered anything and she would have said yes. To my additional surprise, the students each pulled out their pens and held them at the ready against their notebook pages and looked up at me. There I was with about 7 teens, ready to hang on my very words, looking to me for some rational form of wisdom that could possibly show up on a test in a later classroom and possibly shape their entire lives and futures. Oh my God!!!! I pulled together the words "Federal Government" and "birds" and let her fly! I was the observer as my words took wing and filled the air around something about decreasing bird populations, the need for increased habitat and off into ducks and wildlife management on federally funded programs (thank God I watch local wildlife shows on TV occasionally). I was amazed at how words continued to form as the teens took notes, when I began to hear key words emanating from behind me. My girlfriend was pacing behind me saying "bald eagles" and "Endangered Species Act". Not bad for a fledgling birder and great evidence for the value of reading the news and listening to wildlife news on TV. I grasped at the offered words and continued on talking about probably one of the few (in my opinion) successful federal programs I could render at the moment. It did help that instead of gulls taking my walleye skins up in the Boundary Waters last year, there were eagles plucking the skins of logs only some 15 feet from me. It also helped that several people visiting the booth earlier rendered stories of eagles and sought areas for good eagle viewing. Bottom line - it was actually easy to just let whatever came into my mind out and trust that I could make sense of the countless hours of book reading, TV nature show watching, and news articles and reports I catch in my normal day in line with my passion for birds. And before I could even gloat at my self-sensed success, a flock of adolescent humans fell upon the booth in search of washable tatoos. I tell you I had a ball. Even today when I was joined by another novice virgin birdie table attendee, Gary Strandemo from Saint Cloud, the ease and grace at which the game is played when we simply share that passion for birds that we all have - volunteering at the State Fair Birdie Table booth is a joy and a must experience for us all. I truly believe that every person is simply waiting for that certain person to say those certain words (whatever they may be) and the passion for birding can be ignited. When the student is ready the teacher appears. Next year consider volunteering. You cant' do it wrong, no requirements except your passion for birds and love of people. Be prepared for a shift of charming, dazzling, and entertaining wonderment and learning. Plus you get in the fair for free! Thank you Chris for asking! Thomas Maiello Angel Environmental Management, Inc. Spring Lake Park, MN -------------- next part -------------- An HTML attachment was scrubbed... URL: http://moumn.org/pipermail/mou-net_moumn.org/attachments/20070829/2f44232b/attachment.html