Next semester I’m taking a readings course with a Brandeis professor on the topic of “Environmental Economics”. The purpose of the course is two-fold: 1) to learn how to spell “environmental” without spell check and 2) to better understand the practical application of environmental theory, and to better design, analyze and advocate environmental policy. A friend of mine from my MIT days (hi MLF!) informed me that he’s currently working at a place that does environmentally sustainable economics, looking at social justice factors in large corporations. I was THRILLED to hear this news, and can’t wait to sit down and discuss everything he did this summer. I really never thought, not in a million years, that I would ever find the idea of “cost-benefit- analysis” exciting. But, more and more I’m convinced that the true way to making any environmental change is not by showing people what they are destroying or pointing to the beauty of nature, or even to the adverse effects that their behavior will have on their own health and the future of the planet. I think it comes down to the nuts and bolts of facts and figures: this is how being green is going to save you and your company money in the long run.
I suppose the next question is why do I care so much? I haven’t always been a great environmentalist. I’m still not- I’m learning, but I’m still far from perfect. No where near close to it. Where did this desire come from? Well, I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: my parents did a top-notch job of raising me and my sister. In fact, I’m nervous to even think about children, as I’m sure there’s no way to follow in their footsteps. Through summer camps and family trips, my parents installed a deep love of the outdoors in us. Sure, I might be a bit of a couch potato some days, but I blame that more upon my physical need for rest than a desire to be inside. Find me a hammock, and I’d be perfectly happy being a hammock potato instead. After all, my mom and I spent the vast majority of my formative years outside with the horses, and nothing tops the memories of hiking in Shenandoah or celebrating the New Year by cross country skiing in our back yard and neighboring prairie. I spent each summer at Heller Nature Center Camps, learning the art of canoeing, camping and conserving. When I was older I spent summers up in Northern Minnesota at an all girls camp called Kamaji, in rustic cabins with no electricity, spending my days horseback riding, swimming and enjoying the outdoors… and I loved every single minute of it.
Me in the Experimental Orchard
I think as I got older and started to question my views of religion more, nature became an even bigger answer. I might not spend all of my days hiking, but I find something truly majestic in the outdoors. My love for animals is pretty common knowledge (as is my academic and personal view that most majors religions show signs of believing that animals too had souls). I collect spirit animals the way some people collect baseball cards. And, well, while I do sometimes joke that I can prove the existence of a higher being by the deliciousness of McDonalds Hash Browns… I actually think a quiet afternoon sitting in a field watching the breeze making flowers dance, or gazing through a mosaic of leaves at filtered sunlight, or heck, even watching a dog finding intense enjoyment from something not visible to humans is where one can really understand their place in the world.
There have been studies greatly detailing the fact that learning too much about all the horrific things we’ve done to our planet really leaves people with a sense of hopelessness and doom. I know this is true, because I can’t help but feel completely overwhelmed a large part of the time. Its nice to know that there are organizations out there doing what they can do, and people studying and fighting back– but the voice of “I am just one person– what can I do?” is often deafening.
This morning I took a walk out to the date Orchards with my new friend Annie and Click the three legged wonder dog. It was a beautiful morning, the very kind of morning that inspires such reflection.
Looking back through the Date Orchards.
The date orchards look, to the untrained eye, much like rows and rows of palm trees. Dates, at least here, are grown with greywater and salt water- so, while there is some debate about their sustainability or place in the desert, they are at least using water that would not be used for drinking. We also wandered a bit through the experimental orchards, where AIES is growing different types of crops that enjoy the desert soil and lack of water. We let Click set the pace, moving slowly and stopping often to smell things that we couldn’t see. It was a wonderful way to start the day before coming to work.
Annie and Click
This might be enough ramble for today– I think my telling you how to fix your lives would be the very definition of throwing bricks from my glass house. But, I think my walk with Annie this morning reminded me of a few things. One being that the first of many steps is to realize that we are not alone. We aren’t alone in this world, and we aren’t alone as people who care about it.
