Think of a battlefield from a long-ago war. Imagine it as an actual field, a blanket of mown grass edged by a row of trees and a slatted wooden fence. The field looks like countless other fields you have seen in your life, whether in person or in images.
The field is a little damp after last night’s rain, smelling like the earth is just beginning to cook in the midday sun. It is a field. It is nothing special. Except that this field has a story to tell.
There is a sign beside the fence, and you read its text and look at its images. The sign inspires other ideas about the field, invites you to imagine the smell of sweat and blood and gunpowder. A field soaked not with rain but with the waste of thousands of dying bodies. A field that has witnessed unimaginable horrors.
That sign is performing the work of interpretation. It is explaining the story of the field, a field which can’t speak on its own. Places like parks need help telling their stories. That’s where interpretive rangers come in.
Interpretive park rangers write and design those signs. They create the brochures and apps and websites that explain the story of the parks you visit. They answer your questions at the visitor center or in the museum or out on the trails, assisting you with your understanding of the spectacular story of a public space. And sometimes they offer interpretive programs.
An interpretive program is an artistic endeavor. It is an attempt to interpret the voice of a forest, geologic feature, historic cabin, whale–things that are not capable of speaking for themselves. Interpreters have to get a little creative to make that happen.
I worked for nine years as an interpretive ranger, and I’ve seen all kinds of ranger programs. The best interpretive programs are not lists of facts–“the average bear weighs this many pounds, blah blah, I don’t know, I’m not even listening to myself any more.”
The best interpretive programs evoke emotion and curiosity. They put you in the action, make you feel as though you were in that field, on that day, hearing the cannons blast, your heart in your throat. A great interpreter can make you cry, laugh, or transform the way you think about the place.
The goal of interpretation–of the signs, brochures, films, programs–is for visitors to not only understand the unique story of the park but to care about it. The people who originally worked to preserve and protect the park cared. They cared enough about this place and the story it holds to lobby for its conservation. And they wanted people of the future to care as well.
It is difficult to care about something we don’t know about. Next time you are in a park, read the signs, watch the park film, ask questions. Attend an interpretive ranger talk. Be curious.
Perhaps you will learn new things, even if you have been there before. Perhaps you will uncover the story the park is waiting to tell you. Perhaps you will be moved enough to care.
Want to learn more about interpretation? Check out the next essay in this series: “What An Interpretive Theme Is…And What It Isn’t.”