Launch Post: Finding Hope at the End of the World

In Megan Hunter's article, "Seeing the World Anew: on climate change fiction," Hunter argues that literature on climate change is not only important as cultural artifacts, but that it can quite literally change our perspective and interaction with the physical environment. So if this is true, then what responsibilities do we as writers and advocates for the environment have? For Hunter, it seems that she thinks that cli-fi should move more toward imagining the future of daily life that climate change will have on us; if what people are concerned with is the disconnect the general population feels about the impact of climate change, then our fiction should work toward reconnecting the population through an imagining of the personal within a changed environment.

Through this, we can look at climate change disasters not as fiction, but as a question about how we as a society will function in a future where the affects of climate change will become more and more apparent. Something Hunter wrote that stuck out to me was when she says, "We want to know about how we destroy ourselves." If we cannot save human life as we know it now, what will happen to humanity in the future? How will we go on? Will we go on? How might individuals react and adapt in the future? What I love about this (that we're fascinated with how we're going to destroy society) is that in some ways it's not as bleak and dreary of an idea as it superficially seems. Life as we know it now may end, but it was always going to end. There are some things we can't reverse or save; but even after the most devastating changes, perhaps we also look to cli-fi and dystopians with some hope. That humans still go on, and that perhaps the earth will also move on.

So then, what is our goal as nature writers? What responsibilities do we have in shaping how our society thinks about climate change? Is it to provide solace? Is it to provoke fear? Is it to inspire people to work harder for a better future? Where do we stand in this imagining of the future?

Meta Post: Human Nature

It is not a new conversation to consider what, firstly, nature is and secondly, what nature happens to mean in communication with humanity. And that was the primary topic for our first week's post over the readings of Mckibben and the TedTalk with Emma Harris. There is was a prominent point in discussion that these two speakers have very different definitions and outlooks of what nature is and how humanity now tends to interact with our next-door neighbor Mother Nature.  

Our overall theme for the posts? Nature is beautiful and there is a compelling need to help protect where we are living for now, but a partial inability to do so without better solutions or a hefty amount of time on our sides. There was, however, several small step solutions of at least preservation which usually included reporting about the surroundings and making better Eco habits with the earth in mind like gardening and material clean up. 

I leave with this thought: some people consider nature violent. What is the difference between human and nature response? It is not in some ways very similar in reaction? It could be argued as a emotional response. After all, if you were the Earth or the concept of "Mother Nature" would you not react in the same ways? Humanity is hurting and nature is simply responding in kind. Think of our time on this planet as a dialogue. A good dialogue is needed to be able to change anything for the better. 

Looking forward to where our next discussion goes!

Meta Post: You gotta fight! For your right! To garrrdennn

Inevitably, this week’s blog posts revolved around the central concept of nature, particularly our relationship with it as humans. Posts ranged from discussions of what “nature” really is to how we can help preserve it.

One of the most talked about topics was, as mentioned, our human relationship with nature. There seemed a lot of interest in figuring out what exactly our relationship with Mother Nature is: parasitic? Neutral? Even amicable? Most of our peers seem to think humans are more destructive than nature, and there is no way to fully restore Earth to what it once was. Despite this belief, though, there are still several believers/supporters in doing what we can to try to reverse some of our effects. We sought sources on ways to help restore our planet through trustworthy websites like National Geographic and MIT, and some of us thought locally about ways we can restore some natural beauty through more political acts like guerilla gardening.

So, it seemed that despite our common thinking on the impossibility of completely salvaging Earth and it’s natural beauty, we still feel a compelling desire to do something to help. Whether it’s planting flowers in pot holes or observing and recording nature through journals, something inside each of us respects our natural, wild surroundings. Something inside each of us wants to fight for the beauty of "nature," no matter our definition of it.  

As we move forward with these ideas and think about how this affects creative writing and the environment, consider why we care so much. What, in humans, has changed from the era of industrialization to the era of environmental protests?

(Let's take the Beastie Boys for it and keep fighting, shall we?)

Meta Post: Violent Natures

One topic that generated multiple responses involved the violence of Mother Nature vs. Human Nature. Most people agree that Human Nature is more violent than Mother Nature. Where most species are violent purely for survival purposes, humans are violent for leisurely comforts. We are responsible for the destruction of the Earth and the eradication of many species. The damage we have caused far out weighs the violence of Mother Nature.

This discussion also brought up some interesting ideas on reversing the damage we caused to the Earth. There is disagreement over whether or not we can completely reverse it. However, everyone agrees that to create any significant, positive change, it would take years of hard work. I personally believe that full recovery is impossible, but I hope that we can work towards a drastically less harmful way of living.

Meta Post: The Definition of Nature

Since the two texts we read and watched for these blog posts were about the definition of nature, the first obvious trend seen through this thread is a continuation of what that definition is. McKibben and Marris have pretty different ideas of what nature means to them, but people also seem to be concerned not only with defining nature, but how that definition changes the way we interact with it. What do we do when humans take scenes of nature and then politicize it? Is this right? Is it even possible to portray nature without politicizing it? What do we do when nature is destructive? Through our definitions of nature, is it nature that's doing the destroying, or is it humans?

 How we chose to see and define nature changes the way we see ourselves and our understanding of humans' roles on earth. It seems that most people align themselves with Marris' perspective on nature; that since we are also animals, we are always going to be a part of nature, and that it is impossible to completely separate the human from the nonhuman environment around us. Defining nature, then, seems to also be a question of defining humanity. What is our purpose in nature? What is our purpose (in general)? What doe sit mean to be in nature; and by default, what does it mean to be human?

A Nature of Imagination

Guerrilla Gardeners plant flowers on a Los Angeles Street

The two texts assigned for this blog created a clash of terminology about a conflicted relationship. For McKibben, “nature” is a depressing word, as he believes none remains. For Marris, though, “nature” instigates curiosity. Both definitions change the relationship between humans and nature, and they create two paths: despair over the past or hope for the future.

For McKibben, the relationship between humans and nature is a battle. Nature is at war with humans. Even after “Nature has endured and outlived and with dignity reclaimed so many schemes and disruptions of man,” McKibben argues that climate change has ended nature. If nature must “endure” and “outlive,” this assumes that nature is engaged in a fight. Nature is fighting humans for the same resource—the world—and by the competitive exclusion principle, nature is losing. McKibben misses the hubris in his argument that assumes humans have enough power to recreate the entire world, or that human society is impenetrable and permanent. We are no more permanent than nature, perhaps even less so, as nature continues to reclaim our own cultivated spaces.

            Even as nature reclaims our cultivated spaces, humans aren’t quick to claim nature as their neighbor. Emma Marris argues that although most Americans live near natural subjects or urban parks, they cannot recognize it because the definition of nature is limited to “wild,” curated, landscapes—National Parks. She argues for a new understanding that brings human society and nature together with nature as “anywhere where life thrives, where multiple species live together...where things are growing.” This definition acknowledges nature’s “self-willed” transplantation into urban areas. Instead of drawing a line between “nature” and “human,” Marris acknowledges that humans are natural. Life indicates natural forces. Natural forces imply relationship. Seeds evolve. Children touch nature. Grad students explore backyards. The new term allows us to embrace curiosity instead of fear.

A Guerrilla Garden in Perth, Australia

McKibben is afraid, and perhaps rightfully so. Chemicals and plastics poison our water. Deforesters and developers annihilate diverse habitats. Such actions inhibit and destroy life. Yet nature lives on.

Limiting our definition of “nature” to untouched “wilderness” not only limits our curiosity for the natural world but it limits ourselves and our own growth as humans. McKibben writes that he escapes to the outdoors because in the “outdoors we venture into a sphere larger than ourselves.” The outdoors is a space of imagination. It is a space where wild things, and wild ideas, can grow.

If we allow ourselves a wider definition of nature, then we expand our sense of who we are in the world instead of relying on exclusion and fundamental lines. We meet the sphere larger than ourselves—nature—and expand our imaginations wherever we find it. When we expand our imagination, we find endangered species in our overgrown yard and prairie hideaways over old train tracks. We find new understandings of ourselves and our world.

What if we encountered the world in this way? Children, who ordinarily might have stayed indoors at their computers, might instead run through, touch, and play with nature. Cities might integrate natural subjects into urban planning blueprints. Natural public spaces, more inviting than concrete, might bring neighborhoods together. Perhaps, we might find a way to love nature, wherever, and whoever, we are.  

Questions to consider:

Where in Muncie, could you find an untraditional plot of “nature”? (Perhaps one that fits more with Emma Marris’ guidelines?)

OR

Imagine that the ideas “Nature” and “Humankind” are embodied by two people. What kind of a conversation would they have? What would their relationship be like? What would an ideal relationship look like between Nature and Human?  

P.S.

I included photos of some early efforts to redefining nature in urban spaces. Guerrilla Gardeners hunt for unclaimed patches of soil and repurpose them into miniature parks and gardens for the public. Imagine them like St. Francis Robin Hood Gardener Vigilantes.

P.P.S.

Does anyone want to start a Guerrilla Gardening club? 

Launch Post: Human Nature vs. Mother Nature

In Lucille Clifton's poem "the earth is a living thing," she beautifully explains the violence of Mother Nature by personifying the earth as an actual living thing. Each stanza describes different characteristics of Earth, portraying Earth's strength, carnivorous nature, mystery, and beauty. Lines like, "black shambling bear" "tossing mountains into the sea" or "black hawk circling the burying ground," emphasize the destructive power of Mother Nature. While lines like "diamond blind in the black belly of coal" emphasize the integral goodness of Earth. 

In a similar setting, human nature can be seen as just as violent. Therefore, if the earth is a living thing, which this poem is arguing, why are humans destroying it?  We pollute, pillage, and consume Earth's resources to an unhealthy level. We are increasingly taking advantage of our planet as a parasite does to its host. Humans tend to look at what Earth can do for them rather than what they can do for it. There are actions in place to alleviate climate change, like the Paris Convention and finding renewable sources of energy, but efforts can only go so far if mankind cannot overcome human nature by avoiding abandoning these movements and making conscious choices that are beneficial to taking care of the Earth.

After considering this poem and its message, I ask, is Human Nature or Mother Nature more violent? If humans begin to think of Earth as a living thing as Lucille Clifton suggests rather than just an entity to benefit from, can we reverse the damage that we have already caused? How?