You're a What?

Inevitably, when I tell people I am a park ranger, they ask me, "So do you carry a gun?"

Then, when I tell them I am an interpreter, I get a pause, a blink of the eyes, and the response, "Really? What language do you speak?"

I don't usually tell people I'm an interpreter anymore. If I feel the need to be official I say that I'm an Interpretive Ranger. This usually confuses people enough that they don't ask the follow up question.

"Interpretive? Does that mean interpreter? Does that mean dancing? Huh. Maybe I shouldn't ask."

I usually continue on to explain that I do educational programs for the park and work in the visitor center. This seems to clear most things up for most people, but, to my sensibilities, this does not in any way convey what I do. And I would bet that even some of my closest friends and family members still have very little idea of what I do or why I do it.

Interpretation has changed quite a bit over the years. It has gone through several different stages, the least interesting of which was the stage where an interpreter would simply tell you the common and scientific name of the flower you were looking at and maybe throw in some natural history about the plant as a bonus. It was this stage that led many to believe that interpretation is easy and anyone can do it. Anyone can memorize flower names, right?

And sure, that information has it's place. You have to start somewhere.

But if you look up interpretation in the dictionary, you will find something like this:

Interpretation: the rendering of a dramatic part, music, etc., so as to bring out the meaning, or to indicate one's particular conception of it.

Just insert nature, natural history, or something of that ilk where it says, "etc.", and this is where the fun, and the hard, part of my job starts.

Interpretation is about meanings. And, ultimately, it is finding meaning in something that will give it value. The trick is figuring out how to bring those meanings out. After all, something like the ocean could mean one hundred different things to one hundred different people.

Without getting too deeply ensconced in the intricacies of interpretive theory, I'll just say that doing interpretation in America's National Parks is the job of a lifetime. Why? Because the Parks are worth fighting for. They are amazing and beautiful and inspiring and, as much as people love them, they are not something people have on their list of Top Ten Most Important Causes. They are a luxury...an indulgence. Something to enjoy on their vacation, but once they get home there are much more important things to worry about.

Granted, in the grand scheme of things, there are more important things than national parks.

But not many.

National Parks are a symbol. They are pure. Beauty, time, peace, power, change, life, death, renewal, love, wildness. Stuff that transcends wars and greed and economy. It's all here. And when we're gone, if we stay the course, it will still be here. And just in case that's not important to you, it's being preserved so the next generation and the generation after that can have the chance to find it and appreciate it. Because the parks aren't about us. They're about our history and our potential.

And that, in a nutshell, is my job. To provide people with the opportunity to make a connection with these places and what they mean. And to help them see how these places make us who we are. If they don't mean anything to anyone, they won't be saved. And they'll be lost forever. And we would lose a piece of ourselves that we could never get back.

So is interpretation just doing education programs or working in a visitor center? Is this easy stuff that anyone can do?

Maybe. All I know is that I am doing one of the most noble jobs I can think of for an organization that, even with all its flaws, has a most selfless mission.

And sometimes, when I get bogged down with paperwork, or I'm sitting on the desk for the 6th straight hour, I forget for a little while why I'm doing what I'm doing.

But it always comes back to me. In a way, I, and through me the people I now train and supervise, am responsible for the future of the national parks. It's a daunting task.

And even though I don't use the actual term as much as I should, I'm proud to be a National Park Interpreter.