"I Spy an Ecosystem!" and Words as Barriers

“I Spy an Ecosystem!” and Words as Barriers

Today, it seems that our current method for teaching about the environment fosters a perceived intrinsic disconnect, or distance, that humans have from our environment. The words that are used, and the ways in which we use them, make for an unstable foundation for the ongoing efforts to better understand our place in the ‘environment’. As teachers, learners, and as human thinkers, we are constantly trying to bridge connections and understanding between one another and to the world around us. Knowing is about making connections. How can we make connections to Nature and the ‘environment’ when these terms segregate all things ‘human’ from what is ‘natural’? Where do we fit into this environment? Perhaps the terminology we use to talk about ecological concerns is rooted in a way of thinking that we are trying to separate ourselves from. As Bowers says, “Many of those analogs were chosen by men who were unaware of environmental limits, and who took for granted many of the cultural assumptions of their era. Recognizing that words have a history has important implications that are seldom considered” (Bowers 48). How can we teach a love, a respect, and a sense of connection to ourselves while using the same vocabulary that was created by those who were unaware and apathetic to these same concerns? We are having a different conversation now, so maybe we need to be deliberate in our language and conscious of our meaning. 

In a Google image search of the word “ecosystem”, the results are filled with depictions of Nature. It consists entirely of diagrams of animals interacting with each other and their habitat.  When I say animals, I mean that there are no humans to be seen. In fact, there is one picture in which a young girl is holding a magnifying glass, with the title “I Spy an Ecosystem!”. This girl exemplifies the relationship that is taught between humans and ecosystems. She is physically disjointed from the diagram; the magnifying glass is a barrier between her and the Nature scenes in the drawing. It perpetuates an understanding that she can observe an ecosystem, but it is not something that she is part of. The word ecosystem is defined by Merriam-Webster as “everything that exists in a particular environment”. If this is the official definition, how is it that all conventional depictions of ecosystems are devoid of humans? Are humans not animals? Why do we focus on learning about environments that we do not exist in? If we want to further our interconnectedness with the ‘environment’ and teach how to make more positive impacts on the world around us, it only seems ‘natural’ that we would instead teach about how we as humans exist as part of the environment. As humans, we have taken the initiative to expand our imposition on any and all ecosystems we have access to. There are limited ecosystems in which we play no part –what Dorceta Taylor considers wilderness: “places where you won’t see any other people” – yet these ecosystems are what we teach.

Being part of this Eco-literacy 360 has been as much of a learning experience as it is an “unlearning” experience for me. Before this semester, I had never questioned the meaning of words like ‘environment’, ‘nature’ or ‘natural’, ‘ecosystem’. Now I cannot use them without quotations. These words can take on so many different meanings depending on who is talking, and what they are talking about. Even in the context of our 360, I find myself second-guessing the possibility that, for example, human society is part of an ecosystem. Despite a top-notch suburban elementary school education, in which we would explore ‘nature’ often, I still find these concepts in contradiction with my formal childhood schooling. ‘Nature’ is the trees and flowers outside, the ‘environment’ is at the park, and ‘ecosystems’ are the exotic and foreign life in an ocean or rainforest.

I believe that there is a gap in our vocabulary; we are talking about something that we do not have a word for, so we substitute related words. George Orwell, in his essay “Politics and the English Language”, explains this perfectly when saying that “(w)hat is above all needed is to let the meaning choose the word, and not the other way about… unless you make a conscious effort to prevent it, the existing dialect will come rushing in and do the job for you, at the expense of blurring or even changing your meaning” (George Orwell: Essays, 358). What words do we use that properly express the co-existence of humans with the earth, and increase access to a more relatable version of the world?

I can imagine two possible ways of approaching this issue. We can create new words, a new ‘eco-language’ if you will. Willfully start with a clean slate, and rebuild the conversation with entirely new terms and definitions. But having witnessed the disagreements and complexities that arose from a Bryn Mawr Plenary resolution that would introduce a new genderless alternative for the title Mistress and Master, I believe that such an objective may be too controversial to be resolved in the near future.  It takes time, widespread awareness, and popularity to introduce new words into a language. And in creating new words, this introduces issues of “English monolingualism” that Lapayese criticizes, and can create new barriers in accessing ecological education.

The other approach would be to take back these words and reframe them in terms of what they mean to us now. I loved the way Dorceta Taylor talked about taking back and reframing terminology. Black people took ownership of being “Black”; a term that originally carried a negative, demeaning connotation, now conveys strength and perseverance. Bateson says that everything is connected “by virtue of their being components in the same story…that all communication necessitates context, that without context, there is no meaning” (Bateson 13 & 17). Reframing terminology is about changing the story that it carries. Black people changed the context of Black by changing who uses it and how, thus changing what it means entirely. Dorceta Taylor reframed the history of Harriet Tubman as a possessor of vast knowledge of the environment. We now have another story of Harriet Tubman, a new context to consider her in, and thus a new way to connect to who she was. Dorceta showed us that by asking the wrong questions, you could easily find the wrong answers. By changing your questions, you will change the story altogether. The meanings of words are determined by the context they are given. If we change the stories and the contexts in which we use our words, we can alter their meaning altogether. If we make humans part of the story of the environment, then we can strengthen our connection to it. We are part of nature, part of the environment, and part of an ecosystem, and we need our words to reflect this.