The purpose of a college education

What is the point of going to college? I've been thinking about this a lot as I settle into my routine of classes and labs this semester. I believe the process of teaching and learning in its pure state, when both parties are genuinely interested and passionate, is one of the coolest things in the world. That said, a lot of the ways we choose to educate students often miss this point and focus on external rewards (grades) or threats (you're not going to get a good job unless you learn this) to motivate "learning". I have a lot of issues with traditional methods of schooling, including grades and standardized tests.

One of my former high school teachers, Steve Miranda, has an excellent blog about education issues, and I agree with much of what he says. Earlier this month, he posted a few entries about college questioning the value of attending elite universities like Harvard, since studies have shown that they don't increase future income. I emailed him and said that I don't believe that impact on future income should be the evaluation criterion for institutional success in terms of educating students. Steve responded with this post saying that if the purpose of college is to have meaningful conversations with people about cool ideas, you could accomplish the same thing by working for Google for free, downloading MIT's course content online or doing a lot of other things that don't require shelling out $50,000 a year.

All of this is true. College is not for everyone, and many people could find betters uses of 4 years or $200,000. But I do think college has unique educational benefits that you can't get at other places. To illustrate this point, let me walk you through a few highlights from my week here at Whitman.



On Monday, I had chemistry lab. Chem lab can be tedious, but it's also incredibly cool. In this lab, we synthesized a compound called alum, which is made by recycling aluminum. We got to take an aluminum can, cut it up, add a bunch of chemicals, heat it, cool it and filter it, and eventually we ended up with a white powder. This lab was complicated--lots of individual steps with a serious amount of cooperation required between lab partners. At one point, I spilled our solution out of the filter, resulting in about half of our product going down the drain. But we made it through and had our alum at the end. Alum is a really cool chemical--it's the active ingredient in a lot of antiperspirants, and it's used as a mordant to make dye stick to wool better. At the end of lab, we used our product to dye wool red.

Monday, I also had my favorite class--step aerobics. Whitman offers a variety of one credit classes in the Sports Studies, Recreation and Athletics department, which help people like me who want to exercise but don't have time/motivation set aside a designated period to get sweaty. My class is taught by Laura, one of the staff from the study abroad office who also happens to be an aerobics instructor. I assumed when I signed up for the class that I would have to drag myself there, but Laura is so positive and enthusiastic about aerobics that it makes me excited to go to class every day. We get to listen to techno remixes of top 40 songs while moving around and sweating, and it's an awesome time where I can be physically present.

After these classes, I went to a meeting for Whitman Direct Action. WDA is a club which partners with a Guatemalan NGO called Semilla Nueva. We're working on an ecostove project with them and making plans to send several students down to help start a pilot program. As part of this project, I'm participating in an independent study class where we're going to research, design and build a model of the stove we're planning to install in Guatemala, and also write a booklet explaining the benefits of eco-friendly stoves.

Wednesday evening, I went to our climbing wall at 6. I spent half an hour working with my fellow instructor Sophie to plan the class we were teaching together. We talked about the skills we wanted our class to learn--in this case, footwork techniques, hip twists, tying in to a rope and proper belaying technique. After we went over this, we taught an hour and a half climbing class for ten peers. By the end of class, our students were belaying each other up a vertical climbing wall, confronting their fears of heights, talking about how sore their arms were and smiling.

After climbing class, I went to our newspaper offices for production night. The Pioneer, Whitman's newspaper, comes out every Thursday at lunchtime, which means all the editors and production staff get to stay up late on Wednesday night putting the paper together. I spent five hours writing headlines, editing articles, chatting with other staff, eating pizza and generally having a good time while learning about the mechanics of putting a paper together.

The following day, I had biology lab. I got to use a light microscope to look at slides of parasites, yeast, and a few other tiny living things. It was awesome to see cells up close, and drawing them made me think in ways I ususally don't, since visual art isn't one of my strong points.

After lab, I had my volunteer shift at the Co-op. The Co-op is a nonprofit grocery store operated by Whitman students which provides healthy natural and organic foods to the Walla Walla community. We sell a lot of things you can't find in any other grocery stores--raw (unpasteurized) milk, local eggs from a small farm and meat from Thundering Hooves, a grass-fed ranch just outside of town operated by a crazy awesome guy named Joel who can rant about corporate agriculture for hours. Working here, I saw Whitman students, professors and others come in and buy food which is good for them and relatively good for the planet. I got to talk to people about local eggs, speculate about the purpose of powdered kelp (which we sell in bulk) and start research for my personal volunteer project--getting the co-op set up to accept food stamps.

Friday, I had a potluck dinner with six other people living in my dorm. We gathered in the kitchen and made food together--tacos, pasole, pesto pasta and a jicama salad. We sat together and ate while talking for about two hours about comedy, Australia, discriminatory language and the problems with Whitman's meal plans.


So that's my week. I learned a lot of things from each of these experiences. Chem lab teaches me patience, teamwork and critical thinking (eventually, we'll be writing our own lab procedures). Aerobics is about self-discipline and connecting with my body. WDA will educate me about sustainable development and lets me work on a project with tangible results. Teaching a climbing class works a ton of my social skills, requires excellent communication with my fellow instructor and makes me a better climber. Newspaper production requires me to work under pressure, write well, express opinions clearly and focus as part of a team on a larger objective. Bio lab lets me see the world up close, using fancy equipment I probably wouldn't have at home. The co-op lets me explore my food-geekiness in the company of customers who are just as passionate about raw milk as I am. Potlucks hone my cooking skills and also help me get to know my peers.

None of these activities or skill sets are unique to college. But I think that in the college experience, there's a degree of emergent behavior. That is, the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. College is a unique environment where all of these amazing opportunities exist right outside my door. Everything I just described is at most a ten minute walk from my front door. And the environment here is such that I'm constantly immersed in cognitively challenging activities which require very different skills.

Not going to college works well if you know what you want to do with your life and can find a way to do it. If you're positive you want to go into computer programming, work on a cool project, show it to Microsoft, and see if they'll let you work there for free. If you want to be a climbing instructor and guide, go on a NOLS course, get an instructor certification and apply to work at a climbing gym. If you want to be a musician, start a band, teach yourself theory and work on composing music.

But not everyone knows what they want to do. I know I want to change the world, I know I'm interested in journalism, sustainable development, women's issues and food politics. But that's it. Nothing in there screams "career". There are a ton of things I want to learn about--chemistry, biology, food production, rock climbing, newspaper editing, statistics, GIS software, sustainable cooking--and while I could teach myself many of those things, I couldn't do it this efficiently and quickly without the college experience. College is a place to explore tons of interests at the same time and to do it with a support group of peers.

Steve said that there are plenty of reasons to go to college, but he didn't think any of them were related to education. But I think there are thousands of ways to get an education. I know the kind of education I want, and I don't see any way to do it without going to college. True, I'm here because I can meet cool people, hang out, go to parties and live on my own. But mostly, I'm here to learn in a way I don't think I could anywhere else.

I kind of want to go to law school...

As those of you who've been frequent blog readers know, this summer I was doing a bit thinking about my life, career goals, and the most effective way I can make the world a slightly happier, less ecocidal place. The main result of that was me deciding to double minor in biology and chemistry (hello, three labs per semester until I graduate).

But now I'm also thinking about law school. I don't really want to be a lawyer. I hate wearing heels. I couldn't make my hair behave if my life depended on it. My experiences with Junior State of America (a political club I was involved with in high school) led me to believe that highly motivated, politically inclined white people are not who I get along best with (nevermind that I fit into that category pretty snugly). Yet in spite of all this, I kind of want to go to law school.

First of all, I'm a little crazy. Or so my friends tell me. This spring, I've signed up for three lab science classes, a 300-level politics class (which a friend of mine said he pulled all-nighters for every week), two PE classes, a regional geology seminar, an independent study course. Plus I'll be co-news editor of Whitman's newspaper, volunteering weekly at the food co-op in Walla Walla, working at Safeway and teaching a climbing class. Law school would be a godsend for the overachiever in me, the part of me that always wants more to read, more questions to answer, more information to learn.

And, I want to change the world. I want to fix stuff. I want to get angry and yell at the people in power and have someone listen. Even if I never practice in court, I'll be a better activist if I understand the National Environmental Policy Act thoroughly. I'll be better equipped to help people if I know immigration law, welfare law, food stamps law, and all the rest. There are a lot of good reasons not to go to law school, and a lot of other things I could do. But still, I kind of want to go to law school...

New year's resolutions

Well, 2011 is upon us, and as we all know, the world is planning to end in 2012. That means we have about a year left to be better people, accomplish meaningful stuff and generally have a good time. So with that in mind, here are my resolutions for this year:

1  Contribute significantly to the victory of my team in a game of Nerf gun capture the flag.

2  Make, from scratch, at least once, edible versions of: cheese, sourdough bread, beer, yogurt, tomato sauce and applesauce.

3  Come up with a bill or general idea for how we should incentivize solar power in Washington, and get in touch with everyone in the state legislature about why it's a good idea.

4  Knit something besides a scarf that looks like someone would actually want to wear it (I'm thinking a hat, though leg warmers are always an option).

5  Become fluent-enoughish in Spanish while in Ecuador.

6  Update the blog at least once a week with some meaningful insights about life, the universe and everything.

7  Exercise at least twice a week, plus go for more walks.

8  Become addicted to one new TV show, author, blog, magazine, board game and hippie food item.

9  Preside over the best damn news section in the history of journalism (at Whitman College, anyway).

10  Make a new friend by ignoring the inner voice of reason telling me to play it safe.

11 Introduce the nerds at Whitman College to Diplomacy, and play at least one complete game.

12  Read some form of news besides Feministing every day (not that reading Feministing isn't totally legit).

13  Make time to hang out with people regularly, even/especially if I have homework I should be doing instead.

14  Read at least one book a month not required for class during school, and at least one per week on breaks.

15  Stay up later, get up earlier, work less at work, work more at life and play more music.

What I want to eat

I’m back home now, which means I have a ridiculous amount of free time and much more control over my day-to-day life. And now that I’m able to decide what I eat again, I’ve been thinking about food and food politics even more than usual. So here are my thoughts on what I care about and where I want to go from here.

I’m interested in food because I think it’s at the core of so many issues I care about—human health, environmental degradation, animal rights, habitat preservation, climate change, environmental justice, toxicology, community resiliency, poverty and our increasing lack of self-sufficiency, to name a few. Through chance and circumstance, much of my life has been spent indirectly around these issues. I volunteered at a food bank weekly starting when I was five and kept it up through middle school. Now, I work at Safeway, which I credit with partially igniting my interest in these issues. Reading Fast Food Nation and The Omnivore’s Dilemma was one thing, but seeing how most people actually eat was something else entirely.

My own eating habits shifted during high school too. I was lucky enough to be raised by a stay-at-home mom, which meant I could count on a freshly prepared dinner at least five nights a week at home. Mom got a job towards the end of high school, though, and my extracurricular routine frequently meant that I got home from school between 8 and 10pm. Suddenly, I found myself eating frozen pizza or grabbing a burrito on the go a bit more than I felt comfortable with. I’d never learned how to cook beyond the basics, and even those came late (pasta—sophomore year of high school). I wanted to do things differently, but I didn’t have the time or energy to make it happen.

Since the end of high school, I’ve been slowly working to teach myself useful skills. I can make a few basic meals now, and I shop for groceries I know I’ll actually use, so I don’t panic and fall back on frozen food. I’m hoping to petition to be off of a meal plan this spring so I can cook for myself and learn more. For now, I mostly want to do a better job of eating well. “Well” is something I take seriously, and it includes my health, as well as supporting local producers and good treatment of animals and land. Here’s my current thinking on how that breaks down:

Good Food	Stuff to Avoid	Never, Ever Eat
local, organic produce	out-of-season produce	tropical fruits and vegetables
local, ethically raised beef	chicken, pork and turkey, even if from a small, local producer	any meat killed at a conventional slaughterhouse
game animals	fish (sadly including sushi)	factory-farmed meat
eggs raised humanely by someone I know	conventional eggs, including “cage-free” and “free range” ones
raw milk	conventional milk	milk from rGBH treated cows
yogurt and cheese (ideally locally made or homemade)	tofu	soy-based fake meat and dairy products (soy burgers, soymilk, etc.)
beans, lentils and quinoa	carbohydrate-intensive meals (pasta, etc.)	white bread and prepackaged bagels
homemade baked goods	processed snack foods	soda and other sugary drinks
homecooked, fresh meals or raw food	dining hall prepared foods	frozen dinners

Beyond just eating, I want to learn how to garden, compost, preserve food, make twelve different dishes with kale and have a goat or chickens in the city. And obviously, changing how I eat will do absolutely nothing to fix the food system. So in the next week or so, I’ll be writing a longer post about what’s wrong with the way we eat now, and hopefully some ideas for fixing it. In the meantime, check out my final project from Semester in the West—a podcast about grass-fed meat and what that label really means.

End of the semester: this I believe

camp: Johnston Wilderness Campus

Well, it’s the end of the semester and I feel compelled to wrap this up. There’s a lot I didn’t cover, I guess, in terms of day-to-day experiences, but I feel like I got most of the big idea s down. I have a long list of things to research and learn more about, and I doubt I’ll ever get through the reading list that’s been growing in my head all semester. Anyway, it seems appropriate to finish off the semester with a few lists. So, here they are.

things I believe:

Local solutions to problems are time-consuming and sometimes messy, but they’re probably the best way to solve a lot of environmental problems. For example, the utility-scale solar clusterfuck.

Each individual wolf has an intrinsic right to exist, but somehow, I have to be ok with killing them anyway.

Similarly, I don’t like forest management, but I’ve come to accept it as a necessary evil. Or, in the case of Kendall and the aspen, a necessary good.

I like ranchers, or at least Todd Nash, the Boises and Katie’s dad. I don’t mind subsidizing them, but I don’t believe any corporation should be able to graze on public lands.

I think I’m ok with utility-scale solar, and that scares me, because fundamentally, I don’t see how it’s different from a dam. And I thought I was opposed to dams. Though NGS seems like a compelling case for giving them a second look, and what kind of world do we live in that we have to make these choices in the first place?

Questions raised by big solar:

What do I value? What am I willing to sacrifice?

What do we destroy for PV?

How much water, and where?

Will we close coal plants, or just raise demand to meet capacity?

Do we care about the desert tortoise?

How urgent does climate change need to be before we sacrifice idealism?

Is my solution going to be my child’s environmental problem?

Someone needs to blow up Glen Canyon Dam. But really, I’m not sure I care about that anymore either.

Knowing a place—the way Craig does or the way Mary does—is a valuable skill.

Our government will never solve climate change, but people like John Wick and Nils Christofferson might.

I want the last chapter of Dead Pool to come true.

I believe everything I’ve written about NGS and the scale of our problem, but I still hope we might learn jujitsu fast enough to make it count.

I’m torn between two approaches to activism:

1) The responsibility of an activist is not to navigate oppressive systems with as much personal integrity as possible, it is to confront and dismantle those systems.

2) What matters most is how well you walk through the fire.

I know 1 is right, but 2 is so seductively beautiful.

I want to fight. Even if it’s too late. Especially if it’s too late.

Industrial solar in the desert

This entry is part of my journal from Semester in the West. For all SITW journal entries, click here. For all SITW posts, including blog posts I wrote while on the program, click here. To learn more about the program, click here.

camp: San Bernardino County, California

So yesterday afternoon we went to the Sierra Club’s Desert Committee meeting which was largely focused on renewable energy development on public lands. It’s a very interesting political situation—the national Sierra Club supports utility-scale solar in the Mojave, because climate change is a big enough problem that they’re willing to sacrifice. The California Sierra Club is opposed, and from what I saw at the meeting, a lot of their motivation is NIMBY related, but not necessarily wrong. So much infighting amongst the environmentalists there and so much anger in tone when addressing people on the same side. Maggie’s sociology-related theory is that that generation grew up wanting to stick it to the man and had to fight for recognition of environmental issues. Our generation grew up knowing the system was fucked—we didn’t have to realize it in college. We’re about dialogue and compromise, so we listen. I think it has a lot to do with politics too. Republicans are a right-wing party whose rhetoric is even further right (like Tea Party). Dems are centrist and talk center-left sometimes, but they mostly backpedal and capitulate. So no one’s even paying lip service to the far left, much less enacting policies that they support. And that leads to frustration.

So I don’t like their rhetoric, but I’m glad someone is fighting for the desert. I’m glad someone will be watchdogging any large-scale solar and wind projects that do get approved on public lands, because those corporations need to be held accountable with the same level of scrutiny we would apply to any other project. I worry about the precedent we set by allowing large utility companies to develop projects on public lands. I think I’m willing to sacrifice the desert tortoise for the greater good, but after talking to Jim Harvey this morning, I’m not convinced it’s necessary. Feed-in tariffs seem to make sense, though I really want a better knowledge of PV materials and manufacture before I start getting excited about rooftop solar. The Solar Done Right guy I talked to at the meeting said the Department of Energy was doing a cradle-to-grave analysis of PV vs. concentrated solar. God, I want to see that, and apparently they might not release it. Freedom of Information Act…

We also talked to Jim Harvey this morning. He made a pretty compelling case for doing feed-in tariffs and distributed generation rather than utility-scale solar on public lands. I still want to look into PV and also his claim that deserts sequester a ton of carbon and that benefit goes away with power installation. I find it disheartening that none of these new power facilities/installations—not the rooftop proliferation in Germany and not the large projects proposed in the Mojave—have actually closed any coal plants. And overall, I think environmentalists need to be more proactive about these sorts of issues. I love Alex (Wilderness Society dude)’s acronyms—Nowhere on Planet Earth (NOPE) and Build Absolutely Nothing Anywhere Near Anything (BANANA). These are the new NIMBY, and we have to be more than that if we want to make progress.

I guess one of the things I’m wondering is if we accept that large utility-scale projects hurt the desert and that solar rooftop is a better solution, what is our best course, as activists and environmentalists? Do we acknowledge political reality and recognize that climate change is urgent even while feed-in tariffs are infeasible in a market dominated by big utilities? Or do we stall large projects and right the system, fight for the desert? I’m tempted to side with political reality, yet I know that if the project in question were Glen Canyon Dam or a nuclear plant, I’d right to the bitter, bloody end to keep it out of the desert. Maybe. Or would I? Maybe climate change is so serious that radioactive waste, flooded canyons and decimated salmon runs are worth it. Except we’re not closing any coal plants when we add all this solar and wind. And while that’s discouraging in terms of ever stabilizing our climate or having a future with pikas and Bangladesh, it does mean that we should do solar right the first time, even if it takes longer.

A feed-in tariff makes sense whether the utility scale stuff happens or not. So I want to look into that, into getting an initiative started to get that going in Washington. That seems like the perfect thing to bypass the state legislature with and go straight to the people, yet Jim seemed confused and taken aback when I suggested it. We’re not good at being proactive, which makes sense to an extent, because a lot of people get into activism by opposing something close to home, something where they never believed the corporation would take it that far. We fight and oppose, but we have trouble being proactive and finding good alternatives. We don’t recommend alternative sites, because everything is sacred. We don’t try to pass initiatives that would pave the way to a brighter future we imagine. We don’t go after coal plants. If Bill Gates shifted his entire foundation and fortune towards repowering the US, it would be done. We could close the coal plants and still guarantee all the employees their salaries for the next five years. We don’t have that kind of money and we’re used to seeing ourselves as underdogs with no real cards to play besides emotional appeal. But we’re past that. This problem goes beyond a hippie concern for trees and Gaia. So we need to use that lever and push for what we want, not just against what we don’t. And I’m serious about that initiative. You have to start somewhere.

Trash

This entry is part of my journal from Semester in the West. For all SITW journal entries, click here. For all SITW posts, including blog posts I wrote while on the program, click here. To learn more about the program, click here.

camp: San Bernardino County, California

First, the stuff from today while it’s fresh in my mind. This morning, we went to the community center in San Bernardino County, California, where they were collecting hazardous waste and having a market where people bring random stuff and sell it. I love the community interaction this fosters. I feel like so much of the excitement of going shopping is just finding something new, something you didn’t have before. And so much global resource consumption would be cut if American did this kind of stuff more instead of just buying new crap. I want to get involved in efforts like this—freecycling, dumpster diving, barter economies, local currencies and grassroots flea market type things. I think building these systems and methods of interaction is incredibly important and has the potential to be so much fun. There’s so much adventure in going to an open air market or digging through someone else’s trash, so much satisfaction when you find something worth having. Kids love discovery. Just have to get them when they’re young and they’ll be sold for life.

Hazardous waste fascinates me. And makes me want to be a chem major. It’s so strange that all medical waste is labeled a biohazard and disposed of by incinerating it. Even HIV-infected blood is harmless after a few hours in the open air. Burning plastics releases dioxin into the air, something much more pervasive and scary. And yet, we can’t stick used dressings in the normal trash. God, I want to design better plastics. Non-petroleum based substances that don’t contain BPA or any other endocrine disruptors, that don’t release dioxin or any other carcinogens, even when burned. I wonder how old the idea of hazardous waste is. Even waste isn’t that old—maybe a century, one and a half at the most. I’m impressed that they can recycle so much of it—I think he said 60-70%, including the electronics. I need to learn more about semiconductor manufacturing.

And it’s late and I’m exhausted, so more catch-up tomorrow.

Life lessons from the field

Semester in the West is coming to an end. We have less than two weeks left in the field before we start driving back to Whitman, then another two weeks at Whitman’s Johnston Wilderness Campus working on our podcasts and final epiphanies. After spending this much time in the field, I’ve learned some important life lessons. So, here’s a brief list of the most important things I’ve learned this semester.

1. Do not, under any circumstances, step on a cactus while wearing fleece booties. And if you do, make sure your first action after spending fifteen minutes painstakingly picking cactus spines out of your feet isn’t to put your bootie back on and then step on another cactus right next to your chair.

2. If you try to make chocolate chip cookie dough without butter or eggs and instead substitute applesauce and vegetable oil, your dough will form a pancake-like substance when cooked on a griddle and will taste mostly like apples with a hint of vanilla.

3. If it’s pouring rain and so windy you can’t set a tent up, your best recourse is to put your stuff under a tarp and have a dance party in a trailer while waiting out the storm. If you choose to do this, having beer and chips for dinner will be far easier than cooking. Traffic flare lights also work really well to illuminate the dance floor.

4. Swimming holes are great for feeling clean, but after the mineral residue in the water dries in your hair, you will still want a real shower.

5. The dedication a group of twenty-one people for doing daily ab workouts is surprisingly high, but will decline in the face of twelve-mile hikes or rainstorms.

6. Putting the internet in “green” mode (as opposed to work-only mode) will result in everyone trying to go on Facebook at the same time and will crash everything for the next half-hour. If you instead leave the internet in work-only mode all semester, everyone will check Facebook surreptitiously at random times, thus preserving the internet for everyone else to use.

7. All-you-can-eat pizza buffets are always a bad idea, no matter how nice the restaurant pretends to be. However, they are indispensible on ten hour driving days.

8. Rattlesnakes command a respect unrivaled by most animals you are likely to encounter in the desert. And even if you think you’ve gotten over your childhood fear of snakes, you’ll still want to keep a good distance.

9. Tolerance for spicy foods can be increased, but only to a point. Don’t order food with red chiles in New Mexico unless you mean business.

10. Beds are a really beautiful and underappreciated thing. And showers, while probably overrated in day-to-day life, are incomparably wonderful after two weeks of strenuous hiking in the desert.

Building habitat for birds

This entry is part of my journal from Semester in the West. For all SITW journal entries, click here. For all SITW posts, including blog posts I wrote while on the program, click here. To learn more about the program, click here.

camp: Roswell, New Mexico

Today, we saw birds in a wildlife refuge, where ponds are filled and drained each year to provide “natural” habitat for the migrating birds. I read the newsletter, which talked about how so many people were viewing the birds from an unsafe location on railroad tracks that the entire pond had to be closed for people’s safety. This all reminds me of a zoo, except that the birds are free to come and go. But it’s so controlled. So managed. So like Owens Lake. I wonder what the history is, if this is one of the restoration “wetlands” mandated by Congress as penance for bulldozing habitat to create another parking lot. Did this used to be a real wetland, without the drainages and surrounding fields of government-commissioned crops? And do we pay farmers to grow those crops because they’re what the birds want to eat or because the crops are in surplus and we’re trying to find as many uses as possible for them? I suppose I could’ve asked Paul or someone at the visitor’s center instead of just assuming that everything’s a conspiracy against nature and for farmers and agribusiness. But that wouldn’t be any fun.

I don’t mean to devalue the refuge for what it is—habitat for birds that need it. I’m glad we have protected areas and places for those birds to eat and hang out. Mike Prather understood the necessity of compromise better than anyone else we’ve met, and if he can see the “construction site” that is Owens Lake as a victory, then I can be grateful for man-made refuges. But it just seems to god-like. Here is nature. Here is our highway, our railroad, our thriving metropolis in the middle of the desert. So even as I accept that we grow cancerously, that we’ve spread out enough to make setting these places aside a necessity, I still wish it were otherwise.

Election night

This entry is part of my journal from Semester in the West. For all SITW journal entries, click here. For all SITW posts, including blog posts I wrote while on the program, click here. To learn more about the program, click here.

camp: near Santa Fe, New Mexico

Election night! And what a shitshow it is. Dems were down 42 house seats and 7 governorships when I went to bed. Murray will pull through, Joe Manchin got West Virginia (!), Rand Paul in Kentucky (crazy shit), Blanche Lincoln is getting her ass kicked and Tim Fucking Eyeman’s stupid anti-tax bullshit is winning as we vote to repeal taxes on soda and candy, not give schools money for energy efficiency and nor impose an income tax on people making more than $200,000 a year. We’ll keep the Senate, the House is fucked, redistricting will be a Republican wet dream and our government will continue to be center-right and full of crazy people. I’m comforted by the knowledge that even if Democrats controlled 535 seats in Congress and Obama was still in office, we wouldn’t be doing shit about climate change anyway.

I should mention Kendall* and aspen and climate change. How water is stored best by aspen, how they’re in decline for a number of reasons, many of which go back to climate change. How she said a lot of people in her forest don’t care about or even accept climate change, but if you start talking water shortages, they pay attention. I wish we could get people motivated about mitigation as easily as adaptation. The climate is changing and people see it. Show them problems and they’ll support solutions Ascribe causality to those problems and you’re a communist trying to destroy the American economy. So even for mitigation, we learn to be bilingual—green jobs, energy security, savings via conservation. This is our Esperanto. Mention habitat, polar bears, ocean acidification or taxing carbon and you become the enemy, hostile enough that the best response is to shoot first. And so it goes—locally, people see things and can talk about solving them, but nationally, James Infhoe will chair the House Committee on Energy and Whateverthefuck once Dems lose. And so the long defeat marches steadily on. Half the army has yet to see the cliff.

*Kendall Clark, Supervisor for Carson National Forest, who we met with.