New Beginnings.

This past week has marked a very important event for the Environmental Humanities program. Almost twenty new graduate students have embarked on the beginnings of their journeys through the program. With that in mind, many thoughts are stirred, inspired by both the conversations that we've had and by the readings that we are all enjoying.

One pressing question that was asked of us was, "is there really any wilderness left?" As an eternal optimist, I was inclined to respond in the affirmative. 'Absolutely', I thought, 'there simply has to be wilderness left in our world. If there isn't, why am I bothering with this program?'

To understand if wilderness really exists in the world, we need to define wilderness. Most conventional dictionaries define wilderness as "a wild and uninhabited area left in its natural condition". It is also defined as an "unsettled, uncultivated region left it ins natural condition" or "an extensive area, such as a desert or ocean, that is barren or empty". Finally, it is defined as "something characterized by bewildering vastness, perilousness, or unchecked profusion".

Those definitions are loaded with paradoxes. The first definition seems pretty straight-forward, yielding an understanding of wilderness to be some kind of natural area that humans have not altered. By that definition, I am inclined to believe that wilderness still exists. However, if you consider the 'natural condition' of a place, it is more difficult to believe that wilderness exists. Alien species have conquered the world over, but I am not sure if there are still places in the world in which local ecosystems have not been inundated by even one alien species. I'd like to think that these places exist, maybe somewhere in New Guinea or on an nondescript island in the Pacific.

Another consideration is global warming. In 1870, the level of carbon dioxide (CO2) gas in the atmosphere was about 290 parts per million (ppm) and the mean global temperature was about 13.6 degrees Celsius, or about 56.5 degrees Fahrenheit. In 2009, the level of CO2 in the atmosphere measures about 385 ppm (about a seventy percent increase) and the mean global temperature hovers around 14.5 degrees Celsius, or about 58.1 degrees Fahrenheit. Thus, every place in the world, however wild, has been affected by humans. The flora of the world absorbs CO2, so undoubtedly, there have been chemical changes in plants that were directly caused by humans. So, apparently, there is no wilderness left; there is no place on the world that has not been affected by humans.

The third definition, likening the wilderness to something that is barren or empty, can more or less be considered as an ill-informed definition that was designed by someone who has never been to the desert or swam in the ocean. Clearly, the desert and the ocean are not barren or empty. Cyanobacteria covers the soil of many deserts, and tiny critters (some too small for us to see with the naked eye) roam through both the desert and the ocean. In the ocean, plankton and bacteria float throughout the water column, hovering in suspense with the likes of larvae and nematodes. To anyone with a brain, the desert and the ocean are clearly not barren or empty.

The final definition provided above characterizes wilderness as something of "bewildering vastness, perilousness, or unchecked profusion". By this definition, wilderness is definitely still very much present. Bewildering vastness can be seen in many places, from the Arctic to the Sahara, and everywhere inbetween. Luckily, vast areas exist that continue to bewilder us. Indeed, wilderness exists in the sense of peril, as humans still lose their lives in the wild, whether it's by a tiger, a shark, an unlucky fall, or by climate conditions that exceed our tolerance range. Finally, unchecked profusion remains, at least, for now. There are still parts of the world that are not managed, and abundant life remains. These places are dwindling, but they do, indeed, exist.

After considering numerous definitions of wilderness and contemplating whether or not it still exists, I remain the eternal optimist. For us in the Environmental Humanities program, it is essential that it exists. I thrive on the wild; I am most at home when nestled up to a warm red rock at the end of the day, or swimming next to a sea turtle. That is my home, in the wilderness. It exists very much in my mind, in my experiences, in my desires, in my dreams, and in my future career.

The key is to embrace the wilderness. It needs to be appreciated. It needs to be explored (carefully). After all, the theme for our Tertulia class is "wild". So, we students of the program, let us embrace both our inner wild and the wilderness. Let us thrive on the wonders of the wilderness.

Written by Lindsy Floyd.

Internship Opportunity

Here is some more information about the internship available with Salt Lake City's Division of Sustainability:

IMMEDIATE POSITION – Education and Enforcement Specialist

Works primarily with the Recycling Program Manager and Outreach Coordinator identifying barriers to recycling in the community. Educates residents about the city's recycling program and what is recyclable. Specialist will engage residents at home and at special events. Saturday availability is required for assistance in outreach at events and farmer's markets. Multidisciplinary position with opportunities to assist with projects relative to climate change, sustainable transportation, food security, waste reduction, open space and energy. Strong communication skills required.
Please send resumes and cover letters to Bridget.Stuchly@slcgov.com

I hope to be working with one of you soon!

-Jack

U Car Share

Hello everyone,

U Car Share began operation in Salt Lake City today. Check out their website www.ucarshare.com for more info. If it sounds like something you would like to participate in, they are waiving the $25 signup fee for a short period if you use promotion code: SLCSHARE.

Enjoy!

-Jack

Environmental Humanities and Summer Times

Thoughts on a Summer in Our Environment:

In a few weeks the school bell will ring and I will be back in the hallowed halls of graduate school. I have mixed emotions about this upcoming adventure. After a year in the Environmental Humanities program I have an idea of what to expect and have a refined perspective on the world that I am surrounded by, which leads me to my short rant.

This summer saw me through the rapids of Cataract Canyon, chocolate drops of the Maze District, environmental education at Rowland Hall, and the north woods of Minnesota. These divergent places are connected through my experience. Experience that opened my mind and now offer memories to draw upon this semester.
Cataract Canyon: Thoughts of the moon glow over the Colorado River while we camped at Brown Betty come to mind. The brownish flood stage waters turned silverywhite as they slipped over the submerged boulders. The torrent that is illuminated in the day is tempered by the light of the moon in the night.
Maze District: The complete and utter desolation of a place that is still real, unpaved, and unpasteurized.
Environmental Education: Being continually reminded of the fascination that children have for their natural world. These days included delays as a rolly polly crosses the path of small feet, snail races on park signs, and the faith in a planted seed.
Northern Minnesota: A place where eagles abound, lakes are clear and natural, and the stars still shine.



It was/is an amazing summer and I wish she would stay for a few more short months. Do you care to share any summer stories? What about feelings toward the beginning of a new semester?