When we talk about Connecting with Country in early childhood education, our minds often drift to bushland, native plants, birds, or trees.
But Country has never been just about land.
Country is the rivers that carve through valleys. The wetlands that shelter life. The ocean that connects communities. The creeks children splash through. The mangroves, estuaries, billabongs and lakes that breathe life into everything around them.
For Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples, water is not simply a natural resource to be managed.
Water is Country. It is alive.
It holds stories, relationships, responsibilities and knowledge that have been passed between generations for tens of thousands of years. If we want children to genuinely connect with Country, we cannot stop at the bush. We need to learn to listen to the waterways too.
Water is More Than a Habitat
Western environmental education often teaches children that rivers provide water, wetlands filter pollution and oceans contain marine life. All of that is true.
But Aboriginal ways of knowing invite us to ask a different question:
What relationships exist here?
Water is never separate from the surrounding Country. It connects people, plants, animals, seasons and ceremony. It shapes travel routes, food systems, language, story, trade and identity. A river isn't simply flowing water. It is a living ancestor.
A wetland isn't an empty piece of undeveloped land waiting for the next housing estate or supermarket.
It is a home. It is a nursery. It is a classroom. It is part of a much larger living system.
When we begin to see water this way, sustainability becomes much more than recycling or turning off the tap. It becomes about relationships.
Sustainability Begins with Relationship
The Early Years Learning Framework reminds us that sustainability is about much more than caring for the environment. It states:
"Thinking about sustainability means thinking about the future and acting to create healthy, just and vibrant futures for all. Educators encourage children to develop appreciation of the natural world, understand our impact on the natural world, and the interdependence between people, animals, plants, lands and waters."
(EYLF V2.0, p.18)
Notice the language. Not just land. Lands and waters.
The framework continues by recognising that Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples have cared for Country for more than 60,000 years and encourages educators and children to learn from these rich sustainable practices.
This is an invitation to move beyond tokenistic environmental activities and towards understanding what true custodianship looks like.
A Walk That Stayed With Me
Recently I took my children for a walk through our local wetlands on the Central Coast.
Like many local families, we've been following the community campaign to protect the Kincumber Wetlands from a proposed supermarket development that would impact endangered ecological communities and important habitat for native wildlife.
As we walked together, I explained—in age-appropriate ways—that there were plans to build on part of this special place.
My four-year-old daughter Shirley stopped walking. She looked around at the birds feeding in the reeds. She thought quietly before asking, "Why can't they build somewhere else?"
Then she asked another question: "Where will the birds and animals live?"
There was no anger in her voice. No politics. Just empathy.
Children have an extraordinary ability to recognise fairness when we give them the opportunity to think critically. Sometimes they see what adults have learned to overlook.
Children's Voices Matter
After our walk, we read two beautiful books together: "Where the Forest Meets the Sea" by Jeannie Baker and "When the Trees Disappeared" by Trish Butler.
Those stories opened the door to conversations about development, habitat, biodiversity and the difficult choices communities sometimes face.
Not because I wanted Shirley to become an environmental activist at four years old. But because I want her to understand that places matter.
That animals need homes. That people have choices. That caring for Country sometimes means speaking up for it.
This is exactly what the Early Years Learning Framework envisions in
Outcome 2: Children are Connected with and Contribute to Their World. Children are encouraged to:
- recognise they are part of ecosystems and care for local biodiversity
- care for Country and connect with animals, plants, lands and waterways
- express views on important topics
- work together to problem solve and enact solutions within their communities
- develop an awareness of the impact of human activity on environments and the
- interdependence of living things
These aren't future aspirations for adulthood. They begin in childhood.
Allyship Isn't Just About People
When we hear the word allyship, we often think about standing beside people experiencing discrimination or injustice. That is certainly part of it. But perhaps allyship can be broader.
Perhaps we can also become allies for Country.
For rivers. For wetlands. For forests.
For species that cannot stand before a council meeting or write submissions or vote in elections.
The Anti-Bias Approach encourages educators to help children recognise unfairness and develop the confidence and skills to take action. Often we apply this beautifully to human relationships.
But what if we extended that same thinking to the natural world?
Children are remarkably capable of recognising injustice. If they can notice when a friend is excluded from a game... They can also wonder why an animal loses its home. If they can advocate for kindness towards each other... They can also advocate for the places that sustain life.
The Privilege of Not Having to Notice
There are two quotes I return to often.
"Privilege is when you don't consider something to be a problem because it doesn't affect you personally."
And...
"With privilege comes great responsibility."
Many of us have the privilege of assuming a wetland will always be there. That birds will always return. That frogs will always sing after rain. That rivers will continue to flow. But these things are not guaranteed.
Children remind us that every place has value, not only when it benefits us directly, but because it has an inherent right to exist and flourish.
As educators, we have the privilege of shaping how children see these places. With that privilege comes the responsibility to nurture future custodians rather than passive observers.
Bringing Water Country into Everyday Practice
Connecting children with water Country doesn't require living beside a famous river or travelling to a national park. Every community has waterways with stories.
You might:
- visit a local creek, estuary, wetland or beach regularly across the seasons
- map where rainwater travels through your community
- observe birds, insects and aquatic life over time
- invite local Aboriginal community members to share stories about nearby waterways where appropriate
- explore traditional and contemporary ways people care for water
- incorporate natural water play alongside conversations about water conservation
- investigate local environmental campaigns and discuss how communities make decisions
- create opportunities for children to share ideas about protecting places they love.
When children build relationships with local places, they are far more likely to care for them.
People protect what they know. People know what they spend time with.
Raising Custodians
Perhaps one of the greatest gifts we can offer children is not simply knowledge about the environment. It is a relationship with it.
A relationship built on respect rather than ownership. Responsibility rather than entitlement. Reciprocity rather than consumption.
When Aboriginal peoples speak about Caring for Country, it has never been about controlling nature. It is about belonging within it. Perhaps that is the lesson our children need most. Not simply how to save water. But how to become the kind of people who cannot imagine turning away when Country needs caring for.
Because today's children will one day inherit every decision we make, the question is...
Will they inherit healthy waterways? Or will they inherit stories about the places that used to exist?
