Lessons from New Zealand: A Conservation Primer (Part 1 of 3)

It seems all too easy to throw your heart, soul, and energy behind conservation. In theory, at least. Sure, we talk about the value judgments conservation is inevitably entrenched in. But I think it is safe to say that it was not until this past semester in New Zealand that all twenty-two of us who participated in this study abroad program truly realized the complexities of the (perhaps) blindly praised art of conservation. These moral dilemmas certainly were not resolved upon the conclusion of our studies, each of us emerging with some sort of internal conflict concerning the issue.

Our program was biology-focused, with courses on the biogeography, conservation, and cultural heritage of New Zealand, and life in extreme places (namely, Antarctica or geothermal sites). Most of our learning was on the road as we circled the entirety of not only the North Island and South Island by bus, but also a few Subantarctic islands via Russian icebreaker. We were never without a well-informed brain to pick, as countless professors from Victoria University in Wellington followed along giving lectures on roadside stops or post-dinner pajama lectures in the hostels. From the moment we stepped off the plane, issues of conservation were readily apparent. As we all passed through biosecurity, most of us had to have our well-used hiking boots scrubbed to remove any caked-on mud that could hold seeds of plants yet to be introduced to NZ. This is when I realized that they take this sort of thing pretty seriously around here.

The land of Aotearoa was, in essence, the perfect place for the core of conservation to be confronted. A few basics about the country must be established first. New Zealand has known a long history of isolation and lack of human settlement. Having been fully separated from the rest of Gondwana (that is, Australia, Antarctica, Africa, and South America) for a good 60 million years due to the development of the Tasman Sea, mammals simply missed the boat. This allowed for the biota of the landmass to evolve without the usually dominant mammals. Furthermore, New Zealand’s isolation as an island also allows it to maintain much of its unique flora.

It is pretty easy to see the enormous gaps that are left in the biosphere, and the fauna of New Zealand also took note. It is often said that New Zealand is a case study of what would happen if birds ruled the world. You will find dozens of flightless species, many of which could not be considered “street-smart” in any way. They are often ignorant of the threat any mammal, human or non-human, could pose. Another important factor in New Zealand’s story is that it was the last major landmass to be settled by humans. It was not until around 800 years ago that the Maori people, quickly followed by Europeans, came onto the scene. And with them, of course, came all sorts of mammals (rats, livestock, possums, stoats, cats, dogs, etc.), and a full menu of eager plants, whether intentionally or not. It is not hard to see how New Zealand’s quirky natural history primes it to be a fantastic case study for conservation.

One of New Zealand's quirky and well-adored birds, the kiwi.

(http://www.nationalgeographic.com/)

Life in the Real World: An ENVS Alumnus' Experience

After graduating from Lewis & Clark, things were a little bumpy. I worked as a research assistant (RA) for the Environmental Studies program and helped out with the Mellon Foundation-sponsored faculty workshop in southern Oregon. The job was pretty great – I biked to campus two or three days a week, did some research, worked on a bunch of online stuff, and got a mini-vacation down to Canyonville’s Seven Feathers casino. After my RA position ended, I worked at a tamale stand at various farmers markets around Portland. I enjoyed myself, and got to eat plenty of fresh food for free, which helped out with expenses. This job also ended, and I started to feel a little desperate about paying the bills, as well as finding a job in my field. I had been applying to environmental education positions with every non-profit I could find, and hadn’t gotten a single response. I was on idealist.org and Craigslist every day, and the job postings were starting to dwindle. It struck me that I had graduated college at a very bad time.

In desperation, I finally landed a job as a receptionist at a high-end day spa in downtown Portland. It was awful. I had to wear all black, talk in a soothing whisper, and I wasn’t allowed to wear shoes. It basically felt like a cult. After two of my paychecks bounced, they decided that they had to downsize, and I was laid off. And that is how I became an unemployed college graduate.

Feeling totally defeated and ashamed of my perceived failures, I moved back to San Francisco to live with my parents. At first, I had a hard time with the fact that I couldn’t "hack it” in Portland. However, I began reconnecting with my old friends, and realized that there were a lot of things I wanted to be doing. I worked part time doing construction with my father, and spent my free time riding my bike around, taking a ceramics class, doing yoga, and singing karaoke. I have to admit: living rent-free can have its perks!

I eventually found an internship with an environmental non-profit in Berkeley called the David Brower Center. I basically just started showing up once a week and doing whatever job they needed someone to perform. I figured that it would look good on a resume, and maybe by a stroke of luck I would be able to make enough connections that I would be recommended to another organization six months down the line. Instead, the Brower Center decided that they needed another staff member, and created a position for me. I am officially the “visitor and tenant services coordinator.” Kind of a long title for what is basically a really busy receptionist position. This time, however, I’m a receptionist at a place that I love.

I am happy to say that I am now, finally, working in my field. It ended up being a great idea to move back home, and although I miss Portland, it just wasn’t working out for me. I know I’ll always be able to come back to visit, and now the Environmental Studies program has one more alumni in the Bay Area. If anyone is interested in contacting me, I would be glad to help out with any internship or job recommendations that come my way. Email me at krogala415@gmail.com.

Posted by Kelly Rogala, ENVS '08

Ecotopia/Ecopocalypse Spring 2009

This spring semester, I had the opportunity to take a fascinating Environmental Studies Topics course taught by post doctorate fellow, Dr. Evan Berry, called Ecotopia/Ecopocalypse. While I had originally enrolled in this class with the prospect of expanding my knowledge of green utopias and sustainable communities, I have instead gained the ability to synthesize my Environmental Studies coursework within the structure of literary utopian and dystopian societies, an ability that has greatly contributed to the development of my concentration and possible thesis topic. Before I officially declared as an Environmental Studies major in mid-March, I would often describe my concentration as either "Sociology/Anthropology" or "Sustainable Communities," but could never fully develop a coherent topic or justification. Fortunately, this semester, I also took Jay Odenbaugh's "Philosophy and the Environment" and Jim's "Situating Environmental Problems and Solutions" coincendently with Ecotopia Ecopocalypse. In Jay's class, I took a particular interest in deontological ethics and Mark Sagoff's consumer vs. citizen argument, while I was drawn to the Eco-socialism, Ecological Citizenship and Grid Group theories in Jim's Environmental Studies core class. However, the combination of latter interests did not have much substance until I began drafting my final project for Ecotopia/Ecopocalpyse. Throughout the semester, Evan has assigned us over 8 utopian novels, which we discuss extensively in class with regards to utopian authoritative structure, military, family, gender, among many other topics. Within these analyses, I primarily focused upon utopian social structures and personal obligations, where elements of my interest in sustainable communities, environmental ethics and radical theories finally began to unify into a intelligible academic topic.

In March, I proposed my Environmental Studies concentration, entitled "Community, Individuals and the Connected Environment," where I was able to situate the topics of social structures, social psychology, environmental attitudes and community obligations within (1) a focused study and possible thesis topic as well as (2) the cross-cultural examination of ecovillages and cohousing neighborhoods. Although I am frequently reminded of the impracticality and complexity of ecovillages as a tool to foster responsible environmental attitudes and actions, I am convinced that only through a thorough study will these arguments be verified. Ecotopia/Ecocalypse has shown me that the utopian vision of a tightly-knit community has been in the minds of scholars and authors for centuries, and thus the foundational ideals of ecovillages may provide some insight and inspiration to environmentalists as we try to overcome our environmental crises and reformulate a more ecologically responsible society.

Within the various novels that we analyzed in Ecotopia/Ecopocalypse, I found that there are particular social structures associated with the author's formulation of dystopias and utopias. Using Grid Group Cultural theory and deontological ethics, I was able to analyze these different social structures with focus on the different forms of personal obligations that entailed of each society. I did a similar study in Jim's Situtating Environmental Problems and Solutions class, using Grid Group Cultural theory to theorize the environmental attitudes developed within the tight group bonds of egalitarian communities, such as ecovillages. In both the Ecotopia/Ecopocalypse project as well as the Situating Environmental Problems and Solutions synthesis, I have tried to find connections between strong interpersonal bonds and ethical commitments to community and ecological health. These studies have helped me to develop a theory about egalitarian communities and their associated personal obligations and environmental attitudes that I hope will serve as a foundation for my concentration and future research on ecovillages. Given the focus topic of my major and interests in intentional communities, I am tremendously fortunate to have had the opportunity to take Evan's class. In addition to giving substance to my Environmental studies interests, Ecotopia/Ecopocalypse has also provided me with the ability to see the religious undertones of current environmental problems and solutions.

Evan Berry will be leaving us next year to teach at American University in Washington, D.C. Although my peers and I are sad to be parting with Evan after such a short time together in Ecotopia/Ecopocalypse, we are all grateful for his incredible insight and provisions on our studies of environmental discourse and wish him the best of luck on his future endeavors.

Regional Innovation Forum

Sarah Bobertz and I attended the Regional Innovation Forum at the end of March in Portland, Oregon, which sought to bring together “engaged citizens and community leaders from every sector to explore the systemic challenges facing our region that require coordinated effort between individuals, communities, organizations, and local, regional and national policymakers” (Blue Ocean Event Inc., 2009).

We both chose to follow the Social Innovation track, which emphasized the importance of communities working together on similar interests, enabling its members to solve challenges collectively through hard work, collaboration and taking risks. A social entrepreneur is someone who assumes the risk, recognizing injustice and its embedded support structure and sees it as malleable. This entrepreneur then takes the opportunity to disrupt the equilibrium at a deep level and stabilize a new and more just equilibrium. Current social entrepreneurs are already busy at confronting these challenges and are creating models.

What this forum really stressed was the need for social change within the community and a need to change our methods of communication. To emphasize this point, the social innovation track was designed to allow for more engagement between the individuals sitting in the audience and to lessen the impersonal speaker vs. audience relationship. To mimic a community model and better our communication, we were asked by Jolene Estimos from the Warm Springs Reservation to introduce ourselves through a story telling method. We were then asked to define our place, our role, our gift, what we were concerned with and what questions we had. This method of introduction helped us understand our physical, social, relational obligations to our community and recognize that we each bring something unique to the table, which we should use to benefit the community. We need to learn how to use our gifts to bring about real change and become entrepreneurs.

Amy Pearl, founder of Springboard, a social innovation organization in Portland, facilitated the discussion on social innovation. One thing she said that really resonated with me was, “The answer to hunger is not food.” We need to bring about real substantial social change that addresses the root causes of social and environmental challenges, not just shallow solutions.

This forum was inspirational as well as confronting. I realize that there are a lot of changes that need to be made, most of which are not easy to establish because they are unpalatible. Social change is going to be necessary although difficult to spread. Through the improvement of communication and community models as well as the daring initiative of individuals and groups in the community, change will slowly occur across local and global scales.

Written by Rosanne Wielemaker

Sharing Information in a Socially Networked World: ENVS is Delicious!

With the cross-disciplinary nature of the Environmental Studies (ENVS) Program and the nature of the Web, students are at risk of drowning in a sea of resources: scholarly articles, NGO websites, government documents, spatial data, archival images. The average Google search will return a vast amount of information; how can our students successfully navigate this ocean? How can they build and comment on a common database of useful resources?

Since ENVS tries to stay on the bleeding edge of instructional technology, we sought to adopt a more distributed, “Web 2.0” approach to situated research that would allow students to a) pool resources together into an easily accessible repository and b) decentralize the process of adding, browsing, and commenting. After experimenting with a number of different frameworks, ENVS eventually settled on Delicious: a free application that employs tagged bookmarks to organize information.

A Delicious bookmark is much like the ones you’d find on your own browser: a web address (URL) that points to some resource found on the Web. The key advantage of Delicious is that the bookmarks reside outside any one particular computer (i.e., they’re stored on Delicious’ server); essentially, ENVS has created its own “virtual database” of resources viewable by anybody, anytime. A tag is merely a keyword assigned to and associated with a specific bookmark that describes some of its attributes. When a student finds an interesting resource on the Web, she can add it into the ENVS pool of common information by bookmarking and tagging it in our Delicious account, making it available to other students who might be interested in the same topic. She can also add brief notes about the resource as a help to others.

Let’s say that while performing some research on Ecuador – one of ENVS’ situated research sites – I come across a really cool website examining the phenomenon of ecotourism in the city of Cuenca that I’d like share with others as a resource. By bookmarking its URL in the ENVS Delicious account, adding the tags “Ecuador,” “economy,” “landuse,” and “policy,” and creating a short note describing the resource, I can add this website into ENVS’ common pool of information. Later, a subsequent student doing research on same topic can go to the ENVS Delicious account and run a query using the keywords “Ecuador” and “policy.” My website will come up as a relevant resource; knowledge has been shared!

After checking out this particular website, let's then say that our hypothetical student decides it’s not as germane to her own research project as she originally thought; she could then choose to enter a short comment into the Delicious record noting that the resource focuses exclusively on, say, theoretical arguments and lacks any discussion on indigenous responses to ecotourism, her specific topic of interest. Now let's say that the following semester, a third student finds this particular resource on Delicious and notes the comments others have left. Voilà: information has been shared and annotated by numerous students over multiple semesters. Students no longer need to individually “reinvent the wheel” and start from scratch when doing research, but rather are able to stand on the shoulders of their peers. Knowledge has become social!

Rethinking environmentalism...

Last weekend I attended the Regional Innovation Forum, a two-day conference on environmental issues in Portland sponsored in part by Focus the Nation, Lewis & Clark, and several regional environmental organizations. The Forum focused specifically on addressing smart energy solutions, social innovation, sustainability in schools and climate change. The Forum’s primary objective, and primary accomplishment in my view, was to bring together leaders and advocates in the environmental community who would not otherwise cross paths to coordinate and share ideas for increasing sustainability in the region.

The conference was broken down into three groups, or “tracks,” to focus on energy solutions, social innovation, or sustainability in schools.  I chose the social innovation track, which focused on innovative projects and examples of “social entrepreneurship” in the region. A presentation about the 2006 Nobel Peace Prize winner Muhammad Yunus resonated with me because – as phrased by a documentary on his work on microcredit in Bangladesh – he was not “turning things upside down; he was turning them rightside up.”  This is a perfect turn of phrase for what so many environmentalists perceive their role in the world to be, myself included.  We have radical ideas about how to change the world, but we aren’t trying to turn the world on its head.

By now, nearly everyone is familiar with an environmental footprint: the negative impact that our everyday actions have on the planet. In contrast, the Forum introduced to me the idea of an environmental handprint: the positive impact one makes on the environment, and the good one does to reverse environmental inequality. In a field that has a tragic tendency to wax negatively about global crises, destruction, and our imminent demise, the environmental handprint is refreshingly inspiring.  We should be thinking about what we can do, not what we can’t do.  Sitting in the Expo Center surrounded by environmental advocates, I was touched by how many people were focusing not only on reducing their footprint, but increasing their handprint. Instead of collapsing under the weight of our environmental problems (as I am often tempted to do), there are people all across the country and the world who have taken a tiny piece of the environmental puzzle and embraced the challenge of trying to put it back together.

In fact, there was no mention of the buzzwords that usually follow environmentalists; no one talked about limits, destruction, regulation, or crisis.  The social entrepreneurs who presented projects were overwhelmingly optimistic about solving our environmental problems.  They are working on increasing their environmental handprints, rather than panicking about our ecological footprint.  I think there is a terrible shortage of optimism in current environmental thinking.  Everyone has something to contribute to the world.  Things so simple as pet rescue projects, community gardens, and projects like The ReBuilding Center (http://www.rebuildingcenter.org/) have positive impacts on the world, and contribute to the kind of positive, innovative environmental change we need.  

 

 

Are We US Canteen green?

What is the color most people think of when they imagine what we do in Environmental Studies? That's an easy one: green. And yes, the ENVS Program at Lewis & Clark works with students toward greening their campuses, their communities, and their world. But the real question is: what kind of green? Scholars have long differentiated green philosophies and movements into light and dark varietals, and more recently scholars have advocated what could be called "rainbow environmentalism," situating traditional environmental concerns in a broader rubric that includes social, political, economic, and other dimensions of well-being—i.e., more colors than just green.

Perhaps there's no better reason for environmental scholars to ask "What kind of green?" than when we see examples of greenwashing, which I define broadly as using green to sell something. My most humorous example appeared recently as an ad in the New York Times. Check out US Canteen: run, don't walk to their website, where you can spend on the order of $150 for something you put water in that used to sell in Army Surplus stores for about $1.50. Oh yes, you are investing "in a greener Earth" when you do so.

So tell me, what kind of green? Lewis & Clark's Environmental Studies Program realizes that we need to do far more than teach students how to be green—a term that has arguably lost any scholarly credibility in today's world of greenwashing. This is one thing that makes our ENVS Program distinctive, and we encourage you to check us out.