A week ago the entire world was focused on the attacks in Paris. Yet another example of man's inhumanity to man was on display in one of the world's great cities. Because of the locale, there was a lot of media coverage, that is still trickling in as I type at this computer. Like many others, I have heard my share of opinions about this attack - but the one that has stuck with me was the pronouncement by our governor that Illinois would no longer accept Syrian refugees.
When I first heard this - in all candor- I agreed. On the surface, why expose ourselves to those who want to do us harm? It was only after a couple of days before the geography lessons started to kick in. I don't remember when it was - I was driving somewhere - when the thought flashed by that there were plenty of towns in Illinois that had French names. Such towns, including Marseilles, LaSalle, and DuQuoin come to mind. For that matter, I live not far from the Des Plaines River....in the great State of Illinois. Also names that are French, and French. Our local maps are covered in French fingerprints,historic relics from a bygone era.
Among Europeans, the French were pretty much the first ones to stick flags in an around the Midwest. Over time their influences waned, replaced by the tide of humans from elsewhere. It's our loss, because in 2015 we're hard pressed to find a decent croissant around here. People come and go, and now it is Syrians who are the latest among civilization's long chain of dispossessed, outsiders.
Are these people our enemies? Do they wish to harm or kill us? Was this that concern that drove our governor to make this pronouncement? As many already know too well there are altogether too many shootings and murders in our state - on any given weekend. Where are the grand pronouncements to keep those crimes from happening? Speaking for myself, I'm just not that worried about a Syrian refugee harming me when home grown danger seems far more likely.
On my bookshelf is a book written by Stephane Hessel, a Frenchman who in the wake of World War II helped draft the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. One of the most under-read documents in modern history - I'd suggest that Articles 13-15 have special relevance for refugees - at any place in time.
I don't blame our governor for saying what he said. If I were in his shoes - I may have done the same. But there may be a different approach. Listen to this: the motto of the City of Paris, Illinois is "A Place to Call Home" which it currently is for nearly 9,000 residents of the Prairie (French, again) State. I wonder if we're big enough (in heart) to be good hosts, and offer shelter to neighbors from distant shores?
According to their website, Marseilles is "an ideal place to live and enjoy the beauty of Illinois" and DuQuoin claims to be a "great place to raise a family, rich in traditions that build strong communities." If you need a little more elbow room, Bois D' Arc Township may be just the place. Not to be outdone, the mayor of Bourbonnais states that they are a "Village of Friendship to residents of many cultures(!) and faiths (!!)"
I'd like to think the governor and these local officials could find a silver lining in this cloud.
Wednesday, November 18, 2015
Wednesday, September 30, 2015
It’s a hell of a thing when we live in a world where we have to erect fences to keep the vegetables safe from....I'm not sure who.This was among my initial thoughts as I pulled up to the urban garden that had been built on the site that used to be occupied by the Robert Taylor Homes. I toured the site along with my grad school classmates, and I’d been looking forward to the visit as I’ve also occasionally taught a lot of the concepts of urban gardening to my students. The reasons that many (myself included, from time to time) have advocated for urban farming – gardening, really – are numerous. You have possibly heard of many of them. They’ll include:
- City people (especially the little kids) don’t know where their food comes from, and this is wrong.…
- There’s going to be something like 9 billion people on Earth by 2050, and we’ll need more food to feed them. Urban gardens will help feed them..
- Many people have crappy diets, and they eat a lot of junk food. The concerns are that this will lead these folks to serious health problems in their future. “Urban” gardens will also help to mitigate this issue. (I’m left wondering what sort of gardens will develop in rural areas – where the diets are often equally crappy, yet land for growing veggies is all over the place)….
- We need to develop local food networks in order reduce the need and costs associated with shipping food all over the place – and to facilitate the previous points. I guess there is some logic to this, as cities are certainly where all the people are….
- Urban gardens – as a practice – will foster a new generation of urban farm businesses that will grow food that people want. They will also provide jobs to people in areas where employment options are often very thin….
- Because there are these things called food deserts in the poorer parts of our cities. (Again, I’m left wondering what sort of food options will develop in rural areas – where grocery stores are often spread out across vast distances too. At least there is lots of vacant land if someone wants to build one)….
- Oh, and, many of these above listed goals must be sustainable over the long haul….
- Lastly, and most importantly, (in my mind anyway) is that urban gardens have the potential to get food into the hands of low income people that could really use it….
I’d arrived with a hopeful and positive outlook on what I was going to see and learn, but when I drove away my thoughts were far more mixed.
The gardens we toured are managed by the Chicago Botanic Gardens, as part of their Windy City Harvest program. This particular site – it should be pointed out – is not open to just anyone who walks in. The raised bed gardens are tended by those who have completed their training program first. Afterwards, these graduates are then allocated space to grow crops for a two year period. Many use this facility as a sort of business incubator, providing food and floral crops for farmers markets and the like. I pray that I’m wrong, but my sense was that the people tending the beds that day were from everywhere but the adjacent neighborhoods.
This property was once the site of the Robert Taylor Homes, and is now, according to our hosts, leased for 100 years by a developer. These gardens were safe for anther few years, but the issue of property ownership is one of the uncomfortable realities of many community gardens. They'll often exist only as long as there is a benevolent land owner that lets them scratch around the soil until they can sort out what to do with the site.
The way these gardens were constructed was a model of impermanence. All the planting beds were raised, built over the existing grade – the remnants of demolished housing towers. The hoop houses, the requisite compost bins, and tool shed could all be dismantled, hauled off, or bulldozed in a day by a competent contractor. The garden operation will be sustainable until someone wants build a shopping center,or townhouses, and then that will be that. One can only hope the development will have a grocery store where people can buy some food.
On of the admirable goals of this operation was the plan to deliver crops to those in the city who get assistance to buy food. Residents could obtain vouchers to exchange for produce sold at local farmers markets. We were told that, unfortunately, this program was under-utilized for what sounded like a number of bureaucratic structural reasons. Also, it seemed that simply getting to a farmers market isn’t as easy as one might hope. Inspired, I asked why people couldn’t simply exchange vouchers for produce directly from that facility. I later realized that much of what was grown there was said to be delivered and sold at farmers markets in tonier locales such as Hyde Park, Rogers Park, and so on.
During the course of our visit there was an implication that there was tension between the gardens and the neighbors. Hard to imagine why there would be resentment when a bunch of high minded outsiders come into town and get to garden in lovely plots (built for them for free) all of it protected by a substantial chain link fence. During the tour, I picked up that one of the garden businesses was named “garden anarchy” – or such like. Yeah! Stick it to the man! How easy it is to proclaim anarchism (over craft beer, I’m betting) when the whole shebang is subsidized by the largesse of a developer and wealthy donors. Heaven forbid that a real anarchist should take a pair of bolt cutters to that fence.
Okay, so maybe it’s me who has the problem. And, okay, maybe all of our goals (see Part I) aren’t exactly being met – but isn’t that still better than doing nothing? How can I complain about a garden rising from the ashes of a failed housing project? Aren't the people working there trying to make a difference? Am I a little jealous that I’m not a self-proclaimed garden anarchist?
I recall once reading about how urban gardens facilitate gentrification. When I’ve mentioned this to colleagues I’ve gotten either hostile or muddled responses. However, when I see stories like this – this connection may not be all that imaginary. I can understand why local residents might view the sight of hipsters tending beds of kale as a harbinger of hard times ahead.
Taking all of these things together, I’m just not sure what the purpose of these urban gardens is. I don’t think they are the most effective long term solution to the very real problems of food and hunger in the world. Perhaps they are best at getting people out, in the sun, and talking to one another. During our tour, everyone seemed happy to be there. The summer vegetables were fat and gleaming. Freshly harvested carrots, too stunted for sale, were washed and shared among the visitors. A Red-tailed hawk, swooped and perched for his audience on a nearby power pole. On such a lovely day, inside the fence, the optimism was real, and the gardens were lovely.
Thursday, September 03, 2015
A couple of weeks back we all journeyed out to northern California, where among other things we took in the mighty Pacific and mighty trees - specifically the coast redwood (Sequoia sempervirens). Such sights drastically confounded my normal sense of scale, and after a little while on the trail I simply abandoned the idea of trying to photograph these trees - and zeroed in on the scenery that was a little closer:
Forest floor, coast redwood grove.
Thanks to a kind tip from the folks at the hardware store in Mendocino, we hit the road to hike among old growth trees that were in the same general size range as the Hyperion tree - recently tweeted by the Biodiversity Heritage Library:
Tallest #tree towers over #StatueOfLiberty http://t.co/O8KRVTffHe Historical record in BHL http://t.co/bfz1fDf3Lx pic.twitter.com/hcQ9cVUxyZ— BHL (@BioDivLibrary) September 1, 2015
It's difficult not to get swept up in the wonder of which tree (was, until 2010) considered the tallest tree on Earth. However, these individual trees are not marked - and really, after about a mile or so in we lost count of the trees that may have been the local champ, as the trees seemed to just get bigger and bigger.
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Upon returning home I began teaching a plant identification class. I suppose I look forward to this more than my new students - some of whom are wading for the first time into the world of plant names. I recognize the challenge of this, and so over the past couple weeks we have started with the basics. I believe that everyone has some intuitive knowledge of naming plants, a knowledge that begins at childhood and accumulates in almost a subconscious way. I think that we often underestimate this lifelong understanding - but having access to these personal memories of the plants of our past is a great foundation for any future explorations in botanic nomenclature.
* * *
All of this plant naming business came to a head today when I read this touching and funny tree-related essay about a recent memorial celebrating the life of the greatly missed writer Alexander Cockburn:
The Alexander Cockburn Tree, with celebrants. Image Credit CounterPunch.
Scientists have verified that this enormous Blue gum tree (Eucalyptus globulus) - near Cockburn's final resting place - has world-record circumference and will be known henceforth as the Alexander Cockburn Tree! It's gratifying to know that to many, this particular (Very Big) tree will now occupy a place in their hearts and memories that goes well beyond a scientific name in a textbook or a random tree in a meadow.
"This is where we walked, this is where we swam..."
- Cuyahoga, R.E.M.
Sunday, August 23, 2015
This tweet posted by DePaul professor Liam Heneghan stirred up some old memories:
— Liam Heneghan (@DublinSoil) August 23, 2015
When I was a little kid, maybe 5-7 years old, I received a copy of the book The Tale of Squirrel Nutkin as a gift. The book was also accompanied by a little toy plastic squirrel, that was covered with fake fuzz to make it seem more realistic. I've read a lot of books, and forgotten many of them. However, Liam's tweet reminded me of how unsettling the owl character was to me in that story.
It must be so, because after a half a century I can still recall (paraphrasing the character Quint in Jaws) the "cold dead eyes" of Old Brown. This owl had the all-black eyes that many species possess, and I think Beatrix Potter did well to cast and illustrate the malevolent target of Nutkin's teasing. Ultimately, the teasing goes too far, and Old Brown has had quite enough. He pins Nutkin on his back, threatening to open him up the way a fisherman would gut a bluegill. Old Brown gazes at Nutkin with a sad, almost benevolent gaze:
This is going to hurt me more than it is you....
Anyway, Nutkin survives this encounter and lives to see another day, less the better part of his tail. My exchange with Liam got me thinking about this book, and the message it sends to a young reader: Listen junior, don't jack around with authority too much, or there will be severe consequences.... Nutkin - now with only half a tail - is now clearly marked amongst his squirrel peers. But how? As a bad seed, battle scarred, or as merely unlucky? Don't you secretly wonder if he remained a smart ass?
For the life of me, I cannot recall who gave me this gift when I was a boy. I think it may have been from one of our neighbors, but I can't be sure. In hindsight, it's tempting to wonder if I was being sent a message: Be a good boy David, or the man will cut you, and scar you! And you have to admit, there is some truth in that message. Life, and nature has boundaries. Liam is currently working on a book about kid's books, and our folklore is full of examples of what can befall one when those boundaries are crossed - or if those silly kids wander too deep into the forest.
Be careful out there. Stay on the trail, and don't mess around with the owls!