EcoLit ESem

Last Thursday we discussed hurricane Sandy. We talked about the tendency humans have developed to rebuild in the path of destruction rather than to relocate to a safer and more stable environment. We tried to answer the question of whether or not that is the rational or correct action to take in a post-disaster situation (I still am not completely sure about this). I think this tendency to rebuild kind of relates to one point that Jamaica Kincaid made in her article “Alien Soil”. The point was English people have a tendency to “obsessively order and shape their landscape”. Kincaid says the Europeans did that so much so on the island of Antigua that the island is now prone to drought. The Europeans did not work with what was already on the island when they got there, rather they tore it apart and attempted to put it back together with pieces from all around to world. They worked against the island instead of with it, which is essentially what the residence of New York and New Jersey are doing now as they attempt to rebuild their cities. Similar to how Antigua is prone to drought because of how it has been altered and built upon, the cities along the East Coast of the United States are prone to destruction because of where they have been built. We are not paying attention to the way the Earth is shaped and to the way it moves, and living accordingly. Instead we are attempting to shape it to our liking and ignoring the way it moves, seemingly to our detriment.

The assigned readings by native American writers-- Paula Gunn Allen, Winona LeDuke-- are the ones that excite me the most. I get tingles in my belly, a waking up feeling all over, like, here is the key! This is the thinking we need! The concept of "usufruct" (but this is a Latin word! isn't there some native vocabulary we could use for this?) makes so much more sense than our European based land ownership rules. The earth belongs to itself, and we belong to it, to use wisely and lovingly. The minute an individual "owns" a piece of land, he/she is separated from the rest of their people, their community. (Even the phrase a "piece" of land creates separation, a breaking up of something that is really whole.) So this is not just about our relationship with land, but about our relationship with each other. Could we say that the ways in which our society is broken stem directly from this broken relationship-- violently broken by our (my) ancestors when they arrived here, by our nation as it grew? This horrifies me in a way that also feels healing, like the beginning of cleaning a horribly infected wound. How can we honor and retrieve the way of life that we shattered? 

.... If I think about that question for a moment, I can't help thinking, realistically, our own way of life will have to be shattered for that to be possible. Until then, though, can we practice changing our ways, our thinking?

I found this image online and thought how appropriate!  A strong Bryn Mawr female telling us to vote.

And then some radical feminist part of me thought: "She is telling us to vote, to play along with the male created systems!  And she's holding a gun!  How violent and male!"

And then I laughed at myself.

Last Sunday, as all of you know, was Lantern Night, so all the new BMC students congregated in the cloisters in complete and utter silence (required singing notwithstanding) to get their lanterns (myself included). I was amazed how Thomas was kept in complete darkness and everything was planned out so neatly so we could have this magical night of BMC tradition even with the looming hurricane. So being in the cloisters during Lantern Night with all the other students there was an experience starkly different from what I'm used to when I visit the site. Different, but still as nice.

Today, as it was the last day of Family Weekend, my parents were here.  We had brunch at Wyndham, which was a pleasant affair, and then my mother suggested we go walk the labyrinth before they left.  So, of we went.  In my head I was thinking, "How convenient!  I can multitask!  Parent weekending and site visiting at the same time!"  So, we walked the labyrinth together, I said goodbye to my parents, and I sat on the bench near the labyrinth for a while longer.  As I was sitting there, I realized what a difference being alone versus being with other people made.  I mean, the whole time going through the labyrinth none of us were speaking, so it wasn't the noise level or the presence of conversation.  I guess it was just sharing a space with an outsider, the feeling of presenting something that I love to people who do not really understand it yet.  There is a certain nervousness like when you peek over the shoulder of a person reading a book you reccommended, thinking, "Like it!"

While I was sitting on the moon bench today, I felt overjoyed while looking at the world around me. One of my favorite things about Bryn Mawr (among many) is that it truly does not care what your gender, race, religous affiliation, or sexual orientation is. Looking at the women and men bundled up in their fall gear walk by me either alone, in pairs, or in packs, this was especially apparent. There was no sexism or racism, there was just people drawn together by the common pursuit of knowledge interacting regardless of superficial details like the color of one's skin. This is what I notice at Bryn Mawr every single day, and it was wonderful to enjoy it at a distance. This is the first time in a while that I have felt full satisfied by my experience at the moon bench, I am actually looking forward to next week. 

Yesterday I went and sat on a bench by the Duck Pond for quite a while, entering into the richness of the site. Then I went and sat close to the water for a while, where there are strange hobbit-like things (that's how I feel about them) sticking up out the ground, which I think must be part of the root system of the larch trees. See picture below, if I ever manage to upload it!

 I had my phone with me, and a notebook and pen and pencil, but yesterday I did not use them. Today when I went back I took some photos and two videos of the pond ripples moving over the pond's stillness, mesmerizing. (Did you know that word comes from the name of a person, Mr. Mesmer, who invented hypnotism?). Just now I have spent nearly an hour trying without success to upload one of the videos. Can my words be worth a thousand pictures? I can't even seem to upload a still photo at the moment. YouTube does not seem to be on my side.

Today, when I sat on my new branch on in the same tree that I've been sitting in this semester, the tree was still green. A couple of weeks ago, there were lots of yellow, orange, and brown leaves on the tree, waiting to fall off. Hurricane Sandy must have taken care of that. Now, from the outside, the tree looks green and happy, like it did at the beginning of the year. From the inside, though, there are a lot of totally bare branches. The branches above my old spot are so bare that the "tent" I have been talking about has turned into an amphitheater. The new spot is pretty covered up top, but there are a lot of barren places.

Sitting on tree branches has been made a lot more comfortable now that there's a wool coat providing a cushion. I got to snuggle into my scarf and wonder where the multitudes of squirrels had gone. In the next couple of weeks, I'm going to bring some cocoa along and make sitting in the tree even cozier. What happens in December, though? How long are we going to sit outside? I love the outdoors, but, at some point, sitting outside for a half an hour just isn't going to be that fun anymore.

On Friday night, I went to see Gloria Steinem speak at Haverford (along with Rochelle), which happened to be very timely for the particular topics we are discussing in Eco Imaginings this week. One thing in particular that she spoke about which I connected with was her idea that there was no race, and that racism and feminism were one in the same. In th real world, it manifests itself as control over who births who. As a woman, historically, either you're exploited or suppressed sexually. 

As I sat in my spot today, my mind was racing. It jumped around to virtually all aspects of my life. Now, in reflection, I realize that everything I was thinking and feeling has something to do with expressing or recognizing feminsm in my own life. It is everywhere. And it is not dead. 

In other news of spot sitting: the weather outside is extremely cold. brr