Recently I just finished Appalachia North by Matthew Ferrence. In it, he recounts the complex relationship he still has with the land as a Northern Appalachian. Typically when I finish a book I write a Literature Appetizer to get people a taste of what they will find. Since his book is such a personal journey, I would not do it justice by recounting his life.
Many of his experiences reflect my own experience growing up in Western PA. So instead of condensing his journey, I thought I would condense mine.
The Hero’s Journey is a common literary structure where the hero of the story departs home to do a great act, and then returns victorious. My Northern Appalachian Journey is a bit different, but has a similar structure of three parts; Living in Water, Succeeding by Leaving, and The Mountains are Calling.
Burnout is a serious issue among educators. It is also a serious issue among those studying the Climate Crisis. During my time on the Left Coast we had many discussions on how to prevent burnout as Environmental Educators.
While I stand behind everything I have said on this blog, over the past year my tone has become more and more frustrated when talking about the planet. I noticed the signs of burnout, and set about the following courses of action:
Recently, my father wrote a book. It is a great dive into questioning how we think about the Gospel. “The Gospel is the story we tell about Jesus and the Good News” is one of the main arguments in his book. Stories change overtime, depending on the teller and listeners. I do not have the authority to speak on the Gospel, but I have studied another topic that is just a story we tell; nature.
When I say nature is a story, I don’t mean that the trees don’t exist. I don’t mean that the mountains formed over millions of years because we needed a good backdrop for a picture. What I mean is the way we describe our relationship to the rest of the living organisms on this planet reflects our values and mindsets as a society.
This isn’t a new idea, and I first heard some of these ideas when I was in school. But this isn’t going to be an academic deep dive. I want to tell you exactly what I said to my co worker when we entered this room earlier this month.
Recently, a fire broke out in the waters outside the Yucatan Peninsula. While news sources will get into specifics, “it was the Pemex oil company responding to a gas leak,” many were horrified at the mere idea of the ocean catching fire. Some compared the fire to the Cuyahoga River fire, and how we can fix it by working together.
Honestly, I’m not worried about these ‘big flashy problems.’ Like the Cuyahoga River fires, the solution is simple; stop polluting in a certain area. I’m more worried about the slow, gradual changes in the Climate Crisis. The question isn’t whether the crisis is here. The question is what are we going to do, since it has already arrived.
The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild is one of the greatest video games ever created. It builds upon so many conventions, while also innovating in new and unique ways. The innovation that has stuck out to me the most, even after playing countless hours, is the quest Destroy Ganon.
When I play Breath of the Wild, the quest Destroy Ganon gives me the same feeling as when I think about the climate crisis.
COVID-19 is spreading through humanity like a forest fire; rapid and unpredictable. Even with the best crew response, sometimes things keep getting worse.
Within my first season living in Cascadia I had to run away from a forest fire. In a matter of hours communication changed from “start to pack your things, but no rush,” to “GET OUT OF HERE NOW!” It was terrifying not knowing where I was going to sleep each night, not knowing who made it out ok.
