The Images and Politics That Resurface

A year and a half ago, I wrote in the conclusion to my senior thesis: “In an increasingly stateless and transient world, place still matters. Place and place-attachment is neither static nor nostalgic. The contextual processes of how refugees form attachments to place can inform not only the dominant stereotypes of refugees, but also how environmentalism reveres a localized and singular place attachment.” A lot has happened in the time since I wrote that—I graduated in the Spring of 2008 and wanted nothing to do with academia, so I got my EMT (Emergency Medical Technician), and a job as a ski patroller. When the snow melted, I realized (amazingly enough!) that I had enough funds for a trip overseas. So I spent the past three months traveling: first to Sweden where I met two friends from LC for three weeks of rock climbing and mountaineering in Northern Sweden and on the Lofoten Islands off the Northwest coast of Norway.

From Scandinavia, I headed to India, where I spent three weeks studying Tibetan Buddhism and climbing in the high Himalayan plateau of Ladakh. From there I traveled south to the northern plains and visited the more touristy sites of Jaipur in the Rajasthani desert, Agra to see the truly magnificent Taj Mahal, and Varanasi to see the Hindu holy city. I also went to Dharamsala, the home in exile for His Holiness the Dalai Lama, the Tibetan Government, and a large population of Tibetan refugees who have recently escaped from Tibet. I have been interested in the political situation in Tibet for a long time, but it always seemed as something that was handed to me, rather than something I sought out on my own. In middle school, my best friend’s mother would host monks and rimpoches who came to give teachings in the town hall, in small town Vermont. I fell into Tibetan culture by cooking momos (dumplings filled with vegetables or mutton) and tingmo (a steamed bread) for the teachers and being told we had to go give khatas (ceremonial scarves and a sign of respect) to the lamas. But in Ladakh, in the high Himalayas, it became my own. I was traveling to 1000 year old temples tucked into the barren hillsides offering khatas again to 25 foot tall carved wooden Buddhas, or going to festivals in ancient monasteries where dancers retold traditional Buddhist folklore.

Similarly, Dharamsala stirred my academic work and interests that I had moved away from. I fell quickly into teaching English to Tibetan refugees and began asking questions about the dynamics of displacement for the students that I was tutoring. I decided that while I enjoyed ski patrol, this was where I wanted to focus when I returned to the states. So when my hulking, heaving plane touched down, the only job that was remotely interesting was working as a Paraeducator in an ELL (English Language Learning) classroom in Burlington, Vermont. I love it. The students are amazing. They are endlessly optimistic, engaged, and hilarious. They are also challenging, with the gamut of English proficiency, learning differences, family situations, trauma, etc. They are predominately Somali Bantu, but also Nepalese who are being evicted from Bhutan, some from Burma, China, and a smattering of other African countries.

In my spare time, I continue to study Hindi and Tibetan languages. I also try to process and explore my experiences, with the hope of returning in the next two years. My memories of India are complicated: it is an intense country, which has really shaken the foundation of my thoughts in Environmental Studies. The images that linger behind my eyes are of the people, negotiating an overwhelming population, poverty, and the rapid push for modernization. It seems as though industrialization has happened in thirty years, and the infrastructure for its debris is still non-existent. In Varanasi, the holy Ganges River flows through the city, parts of it black from where the sewage flows straight into the river. Nearby, young boys are fishing... in many ways, India was incredibly disheartening. The job seems even more overwhelming, even more unattainable, in a place where the vast majority of people are struggling to meet basic needs. Yet, at the same time, there is a momentum in that: that if people depend on the river intimately for their sustenance, its vulnerability is almost more compelling. I try to sift through my frustrations and find pockets of optimism.

I find that I am more oriented toward social considerations as a result of my job—I go home and research the conflicts that have given rise to the displaced populations I am working with, I read mostly about racism in school environments, and sociology books about modern India. But Environmental Studies has given me the framework to think about human migration in a wider context than the social dynamics. My thinking continues to be situated in a conversation about place-attachment and what influences that, whether environmental or social.

If you have questions or thoughts, I am always interested in what current students are working on, as well as the reflections of other alumni. alexa.m.schmidt(at)gmail.com

My Experience as a 2006 ENVS Graduate

I graduated with a BA in Environmental Studies from Lewis & Clark College in 2006, and was fortunate to have a summer job lined up after graduation working as a Crew Leader with the Youth Conservation Corps in Yellowstone National Park. I had been a student in the program for two summers in high school. The program was challenging for me, but it felt good to be sharing the outdoors with 30 high school students and drawing on a lot of things I had learned in college in our daily environmental education sessions.

I knew that I was going to take at least a year off before applying to grad school because I wanted to get more work experience, so I returned to Portland in August where I spent the winter of 2006 bouncing around a few jobs. My first job was working for a photo lab, which was at best motivation to find a better job. After 6 weeks, I quit and started working for REI (part time) and an Intellectual Property law firm (full time). I was probably working too many hours, but in January my hours went down at REI, so I started looking for a part-time internship because I wanted to do something more closely related to my degree and my interests. I wound up interning at a Portland-based climate change consultancy that I learned about from a lunchtime talk given by its founder at Lewis and Clark in 2005. In March, I decided to return to Yellowstone in Summer 2007 by way of a five-week hiking trip across Spain.

While I was in Yellowstone, I was offered a Research Assistant position with the consulting firm and started on Labor Day 2007. I know that I probably would not have gotten that job had I not interned 10 hours a week earlier in the year. This job was a great opportunity for me because I was able to provide research support and gained a lot of experience conducting greenhouse gas inventories, drafting reports, and helping to develop a few Excel based models. I also helped author a short paper on carbon market opportunities for public transportation organizations with a colleague. In October 2008, I started the GRE and application process because I wanted to start a graduate program that would combine my climate change experience with my other interests in public land management.

Which I guess brings us to the present. I am in my first semester of a 2 year MS in Resource Conservation program at the University of Montana. Ultimately, I am glad that I waited to apply to grad school. I have a better idea of what I need to study, and I think that I also gained a lot from my work experiences. One other thing, if anyone wants to contact me, my e-mail is crankypants374@hotmail.com. Just kidding, it is matt.ehrman (at) gmail.com. If you have one, ditch the stupid handle. I have seen people arbitrarily toss out resumes for that and stupid fonts.

An L&C Alum's Experience

It seems like only yesterday, but I graduated from L&C all the way back in 2007. I have been asked to share my experiences since graduation, so here goes:

At L&C I doubled majored in Political Science and Environmental Studies. After graduating, I lived and worked in Portland for a year while I applied to law school. During this year I lived in SW Portland and I worked for Portland General Electric as a clerk, for L&C as a debate coach, and for Powerscore as an LSAT instructor.

In 2008, I moved to New York City to begin law school at Columbia University School of Law. New York is a lot different than Portland. It has some downsides like the crowds, trash, and how expensive everything is; but it is also a lot of fun! I’ve really enjoyed exploring the city and going to the great concerts, museums, events and speakers.

I spent my first year taking the traditional curriculum taught to all law students across the country: Constitutional Law, Torts, Civil Procedure, Criminal Law, Contracts and Property. During my first year I also did a lot of extracurriculars related to environmental law. I served on the board of the environmental law society and I coordinated Columbia's participation in the Focus the Nation events last semester. I also participated in the Environmental Law Moot Court.

After finishing my first year, I spent summer 2009 back in Portland, working for the Portland Metropolitan Public Defender. Working for a public defender definitely gives you a different perspective than reading about criminal law in a case book. I found helping represent those who cannot afford lawyers to be both a challenging and rewarding job and I recommend it to anyone interested in the law.

I am now starting my second year of law school. I get to pick my classes this year, which is a big improvement from last year; I am taking Evidence, Tax, Environmental Law, and Protection of Natural Resources. I have been elected president of the environmental law society and will serve as a staff editor of the Columbia Journal of Environmental Law.

Well, that’s about all I’ve done since graduating from L&C. I am looking forward to taking more interesting classes and beginning my career in the law!

It's a Big Sea Out There!

It all started the summer after freshman year when I got a salmon cannery job on Bristol Bay. Actually, it all started with my 10^th grade history teacher, Mrs. Monahan. She was a powerhouse at my high school: brilliant, young, funny, and a great storyteller. She regaled us with tales of her 1980’s jaunt to the Northern slime-lines. Crazies making Jell-o out of seawater and guts, impossible work, incognito gangsters, and the ping-pong table that shared the break-room with a murdered corpse for 3 weeks, all set at the end of the world. She spawned the goldfish of an idea in my fishbowl head to one day test my mettle where the tundra meets the sea. I went, and hated it. I actually loved it, but what I loved I also hated. We compared the cannery to an abusive relationship; you couldn’t escape and always came back. I was hooked on the absurdities, the awesome open landscape, the fish gore, the beautiful souls I met, and the frantic cocktail of pace and sleep deprivation. Regardless, it was great for my photography and I returned for two more seasons to work in the plant and then aboard a tender.

This first summer proved to give a strong current to my ENVS career. I was a member of the first class to have complete freedom over the design of our concentrations, and I decided to pursue art. I was greatly encouraged in the alternative photo classes I took from Jacinda Russell. With her help I created mixed media, alternative, and installation pieces inspired by the theories, issues, and concerns brought up in my ENVS classes. At the same time, “my issue” topic for ENVS projects gravitated to marine fisheries.

Having successfully snagged a Mellon Situated Research Grant in my junior year, I traveled and lived abroad in Primorskii krai, in the Russian Far East. For 6 months I interviewed people involved in most aspects of fisheries (NGOs, Government Industrial and Scientific fishery orgs, Academia, Commercial fishing companies, etc.) conducting research for a thesis verbosely titled “Fractured Visuals. How Russian Images of Far Eastern Fisheries Encourage Predicated Ways of Seeing? An Adaptation of Center-Periphery Relations.” This was a departure from art, a sociological study of images as products that have been produced with inherent cultural values, meanings, and orientations.

With this background it seems too perfect that I stumbled into the “Project/Outreach Coordinator” Americorps position with the Yukon River Drainage Fisheries Association, a non-profit established to create a forum, sense of unity, and represent the interests of the roughly 40 subsistence/commercial fishing villages along the Yukon River. It is the only river-wide, representational group open to all citizens. I will be organizing volunteer service and environmental education programs for high school youth based around salmon conservation and community development. The YRDFA's goal is to enable newer generations to become active community members and retain their local, cultural traditions. The happy byproduct is that I get to travel to remote and rural parts of Alaska that would otherwise be inaccessible.

As they say, it is a big sea out there. One full of fish, a lot of garbage, and some spectacular opportunities for those willing to risk it. You can’t stop swimming!

Evan Blankenship, ENVS 2009 alumnus

Stand on the Shoulders of Giants: Building a Web 2.0 Community

This summer, Lewis & Clark set out to implement a long-overdue redesign of its website. With the redesign came new opportunities to expand the ENVS program’s online presence toward a more interactive, web-based approach. Our goal, to put it simply, was to create a process by which students can build off of those who have come before them, and interact with each other in ways that allow us, the students, to collaborate and produce better scholarship. This shift towards collaborative learning mirrors trends that have been sweeping the online world for years. Facebook, Twitter, and other types of social networking are far ahead of the scholarly sphere in creating communities where information is shared, debated, and users engage with each other. This is called Web 2.0, a departure from the one-sided, informational website.

The biggest, most obvious change is that there will be no more ENVS emails from our administrative coordinator Pete about poster celebrations and pizza meetings. They will still take place, of course, but now we will find out about them via MyLC, an RSS reader that is our new go-to source of information. Above and beyond some required ENVS feeds, students get to pick and choose those that appear in their MyLC, which can include anything from new ENVS internships to the latest New York Times headlines.



Students at LC should not have to reinvent the wheel with every new research project. Engaging with existing resources and building off of them is what Web 2.0 is all about. We recreated and expanded sample research themes for all of our ten local and overseas research sites. They are now ready for students and instructors to use as a jumping off point for situated research. Research site pages are now conveniently located in the Resources section of the new website. This section is our toolkit for ENVS projects, with support from the newly redesigned Help Wiki collection for when we get stuck.

Another key feature of our community-building effort is the segregation of Delicious —a Web 2.0 site where we share online research resources—into three “Delicii,” as we call them. There is a general, free-for-all database called lcenvs where you can add any interesting, environmentally related content such as Grist articles or news stories that you want to share with other ENVS students. As always, Delicious resources can be commented on by anyone in lcenvs. The two other ”Delicii” are lcenvsres and lcenvsgis, which separates research site-related resources (all newly tagged and organized for easy searchability) and GIS metadata used for mapping and spatial analysis.

Finally, the updated scholarship database provides us with tons of ideas and past examples of ENVS student work to inspire our concentration or research project. Together we hope these new and more easily accessible resources via the beautifully designed new website provides a better way of doing environmental studies that doesn’t require you to reinvent the wheel.


Sarah Bobertz and Dick Fink,
ENVS Research Assistants

Reflections on Let Live Animal Rights Conference

Matt Rossell of In Defense of Animals

“How to Deal with Environmentalists” was the title of a session that took place at Portland State University in June during the Let Live’s NW Animal Rights Conference. Animal rights activists and environmentalists have a longstanding ethical disagreement over the intrinsic value of ecosystems, species and individual animals. Animal rights activists focus on individual animals, while environmentalists are generally more holistic, concentrating on the good of entire ecosystems. The fact that animal rights vs. environmentalism is still an ongoing debate is a good reason for an environmental studies student to enter into the discourse, especially with such mainstream attention to rising carbon emissions, species extinction and the increasingly industrialized food culture.

To provide a better context on my interest in the Let Live Conference, I should probably talk a little bit about my summer research. I am currently a Mellon Research Initiative researcher for Professor Deborah Heath and Professor Daena Goldsmith’s project,“Local/Global Networks: Wine & Foie Gras.” Foie gras and wine are both produits de terroir, meaning that they are influenced by geological, climatic, and cultural factors in specific regions where they are produced. As both a practical and theoretical concept, terroir may bridge the gap between consumers and producers in the homogenized industrial world. However, foie gras is also a heated animal rights issue because of its unique production methods, viewed by animal rights activists as animal cruelty. Therefore, I was sent to this conference to observe and document the ethical claims made by these animal rights activists regarding foie gras production.

After having spent seven weeks examining claims made by scientists, French foie gras producers, US foie gras producers, and animal rights activists, I went into this conference with a fairly broad understanding of the arguments made by both sides of the foie gras debate (for more information on the debate or on INRA's research on foie gras, please read Sarah DiGregorio's article here or Dr. Guémené's report here). At the “Regional Issues in Animal Activism” panel, speaker Tim Hitchens referred to the foie gras debate as a cultural battle against Portland’s “new pop culture” for eating cruel meat. He claims that this trend has been heightened due to the influence of local chefs such as Gabriel Rucker of Le Pigeon, who even sports “I [Heart] Foie Gras” t-shirts. I asked Tim how he would address the cultural battle if French chefs argued that foie gras was traditional rather than hip, and he pointed out that Portland chefs aren’t cooking foie gras in traditional dishes and even if they were, their tradition is causing suffering.


This is a video of an anti-foie gras protest held on June 27, 2009
in front of Sel Gris restaurant on SW Hawthorne.


The second talk that I went to dealt mainly with the anti-foie gras movement and polarization of angry chefs in Chicago. According to speakers Nathan Runkle and J. Johnson, the weak spot in the Chicago foie gras ban was that it was too heavily focused on foie gras and not the issue of animal cruelty itself: “It is about more than foie gras.“ Many in favor of foie gras could not agree more. For animal rights activists, the divide that the issue created in Chicago was between foie gras and animal rights; for chefs and producers, it is between foie gras and their traditions/freedom of choice.

In addition to dealing to “How to Deal With Environmentalists,” I wish that there had been a session on “How to Stump Environmentalists” because, to me, the animal rights vs. environmentalist debate is not as easy as the general “veganism has a smaller carbon footprint” argument that I heard several times this weekend. I find it hard to believe that veganism is the only plausible step towards an alternative food system that environmentalists would agree with. In attending the Let Live NW Animal Rights Conference this weekend, I was not able to see any solid reconciliation between the two positions, but I was able to better understand the basis of animal rights arguments and to find some peace in my admiration for their efforts.

Lessons from New Zealand: A Conservation Primer (Part 3 of 3)

Maungatautari Volcano

It also must be considered that new species colonize, and have colonized, regions or landmasses all the time, often leading to the demise of the previously dominant species. That is simply a fact of nature. In this case, we are the ones that facilitated this transport of new biota, so it is considered unnatural. This is to say that we are somehow distinct from the natural world, and most or all of our actions are not natural, which is a whole other debate altogether. Yet another consideration is that we are deciding how to restore these ecosystems and habitats into something more “natural” (define this term as you well). Once again this requires value judgments that are inevitably linked to human interest, simply because we are the ones making the decisions. Money pours in to save the oh-so-charming kiwi and the ever-intriguing tuatara, but what about those critters less likely to capture the public’s hearts, and dollars. Somehow we have convinced ourselves that we are doing the best thing for nature, that we know what is right. But are we not just chasing our tails? Will we not have to, ten years hence, treat these conservation practices, too, as blemishes on the well-intentioned conservation track record? All these questions, among countless others, were confronted and debated between us on our long bus rides, and it would be foolish to say that we came anywhere close to agreement. Yet, these are the questions conservation scientists and policy-makers grapple with every day.

Over the course of three months, we were able to witness the incredible success stories of conservation that have served as models for others throughout the world, but also those shocking blunders of conservation that seem all too ridiculous and avoidable in hindsight. As a case study, New Zealand provides perhaps the most extreme of examples due to its unique natural history. But the root of these debates is the same no matter how and where you approach them. We must take risks in order to act fast. Valued species and resources are not considered equal, ever. Priorities must be established, and sacrifices made. Just like the human interference in the past, and very much the present, that injured the natural balance and health of ecosystems, conservation in practice is just another form of manipulation. Yet, it is fueled by the intentions of restoring and protecting, with enough knowledge that things will truly be helped, and not further harmed. As with all endeavors, the money must come from somewhere, hopefully not undermining the cause.

All of our thoughts and questions found no conclusions or answers, probably because they would only result in yet another opinion or value judgment. And that is the basic principle of conservation. We often must react before it is too late. We would only hope that we would have a complete grasp on an issue, knowing the full effects of each potential course of action. But this is never so. This is not to say that we should do nothing and completely give up. However, all this must be considered. Perhaps we can someday rid conservation of the need to consider profits and other solely human-based regulating factors, so as to throw our full attention on nature itself. But in the end we are only humans, just one piece, one force of nature. As nature is certainly not static, we cannot truly know how things should be, and therefore find some perfect solution to the issue at hand.

I do not want it to seem as if we left completely jaded regarding conservation and environmental issues, returning broken-spirited and without hope for the future. This was simply a wake-up call, allowing us to realize the complexities of this art. Conservation is about much more than the small microcosm that is being considered. This dialogue must be continued no matter where we are and what is at stake. We also came out with a greater understanding of why things live where they do, and why this is important in understanding the past, present, and future biology of a place. I don’t think we could have learned the things we learned in any other place in the world. The most rewarding part being that this was not the end of our studies on conservation and biology, but clearly just the beginning as many of us continue our studies in these fields.

Posted by Kat Fiedler '11