Liv in Nature

Blog for ENVS3000 Nature Interpretation.

[haenvs3000w22]

My Final Blog

Describe your personal ethic as you develop as a nature interpreter. What beliefs do you bring? What responsibilities do you have? What approaches are most suitable for you as an individual?

My personal ethic as a nature interpreter is one that integrates political change, scientific evidence, and personal experiences to inspire others to see Mother Nature for her true beauty and to inspire true stewardship. Saving the planet will require a massive change across our society, which will require some changing of the day-to-day behaviours of everyone to become more sustainable, but most of the change will have to come to some key powerful figures in our society. Capitalism has concentrated power and wealth in the hands of a few men, from the energy sector where fossil fuels provide most of our power and transportation to the food industry where massive industrial farming is raping the soil for all its nutrients and brutalizing helpless animals to feed only a small percentage of the world’s population while the rest of the world starves. Change at this level will require societal pressure from the working class and those outside of the 0.01%, and cohesive societal pressure will require a coherent narrative that will mobilize people to arm themselves with and to act upon the plain scientific evidence that begs us to do something. I am convinced that the only way to change minds and to invite them to participate in this narrative is through personal experiences. As Louv wrote in “Last Child in the Woods”, “One often overlooked value of children is that they constitute the future political constituency, and their attention or vote – which is ultimately based more on a foundation of personal experience than rational decision making- is not guaranteed.” I believe that, deep down, adults are no different than children, but post-enlightenment white western culture still entertains an outdated notion of the total primacy of objectivity that forces adults to maintain a façade of rationality and to justify their personal experience or else face criticism. This façade can easily be broken down though by inducing just a little bit of child-like curiosity and fascination. One song that comes to mind when I am interpreting nature is John Mayer’s “Belief” where he sings, “Is there anyone who/Ever remembers changing your mind from/The paint on a sign/Is there anyone who really recalls/Ever breaking rank at all/For something someone yelled real loud one time.” My responsibility as a nature interpreter is to not be a political crusader, because this will only reach those who are already convinced of the necessity of protecting Mother Earth. Instead, it is to initiate and guide people on their own journey of rediscovering the quirks, intricacies, and child-like wonder nature has always provided, and only once they have gotten back in touch with this childhood to provide them with the rational knowledge they need to change their behaviours to live more sustainably and the narrative they need to organize their psyches and to demonstrate to others the joy that the Earth can provide. The other, and more important responsibility I have, is to elevate the voices of those who have always known, protected, and advocated for the irreplaceability of nature but have been marginalized, specifically the Indigenous populations in Canada. As a white person who grew up in Burlington and has always had easy access to protected nature spaces, it is easy to forget that those spaces were originally stewarded by the Indigenous people in this area before it was stolen from them, and their cultures and families were destroyed by systemic oppression and residential schools. I have both the time and monetary resources to fully enjoy nature while the ones who protected it for centuries are struggling to have clean water. The land around my house is covered by the “Dish with One Spoon” treaty, which explains how everyone who lives and works in this land eats from this same dish, and so we must only take our share and leave resources for others as well as maintain the integrity of the land for generations to come. This perfectly models sustainability and stewardship, and so this is the core structure for my approach to nature interpretation.

In summary, my personal ethic as a nature interpreter necessitates a responsibility to facilitate individuals’ rediscovery of nature and childhood, to model the Dish with One Spoon approach to stewardship and sustainability, to arm people with the scientific evidence and political narrative that can mobilize the working class to force change at the top of an unjustly hierarchical capitalist society, and to elevate the voices of the original stewards of Mother Nature who have been marginalized.

Thank you to everyone who has interacted with my blog over the course of the semester, I have truly enjoyed this class and the ability to read everyone’s unique perspective. I wish everyone the best as we finish the semester and likely our university careers!

[odenvs3000w22]

Hi Hannah,

Thanks for your post! I appreciated its strong start - I think the massive change to our society that you mentioned is both unavoidable and necessary, but it is also probably the thing that most people want to hear least when it comes to conversations about climate change and the environment. I think you’re also very right that change will require cohesive social pressure - but this is where I want to push back a bit on the sentiment that no one’s mind can be changed, as John Mayer put it, “For something someone yelled real loud one time.”

While no one likes to be yelled at to change their opinion, I also think it is true that if we wait for everyone to get on board with what needs to be done to climate change, we’ll be waiting far too long. While educating the public is important, there is also a point at which we have to stop convincing and start doing - for example by implementing policy and regulation which may not be popular, but will accomplish results. An example near and dear to my heart is Highway 413, a highway which will cut across a lot of Ontario farmland and Greenbelt land, in order to theoretically cut down on congestion. As a driver I understand the appeal of less traffic, but as an environmentalist I am much more concerned about the increased emissions that building that highway, and then driving on it, would produce. Ceasing public infrastructure projects like this might be an initially unpopular choice, but if we were serious about climate change, we should be willing to accept short term costs (like finding driving alternatives) in order to win the long term goals of a sustainable Earth.

[bbenvs3000w22]

Cheers to nature interpretation

I truly cannot believe I am writing my last blog post. I’ll admit these were pretty hard to write at first and I still do struggle as I try to make them meaningful or have some sort of impact. Yet, it has been a pleasure reading other folks’ posts and engaging with content I enjoy. Similar to how it feels like I can still recall my first camping trip, it feels as though I was just writing about it in my first post. In addition, reflecting on this course, I have gained so much knowledge on nature interpretation, previously I just thought of it as someone guiding another through a park, but it is so much more than that. “Interpretation is diverse and complex. It can occur in different venues from arboretums to zoos” (Beck et al. 2018). Nature interpretation is the gift of learning something beautiful in nature and being able to relay that information to others in a meaningful way.

Ultimately the learning outcome for me personally is to gain environmental interpretation skills in order to advocate for sustainability practices in the public and private sectors. It is one thing to have a passion for a subject but it is a whole other skill set to take what we are so inspired about, synthesize it, and then educate others to develop the same enthusiasm we have.

I am sure all of us can reflect and remember to any point in our education here at Guelph, where we had a professor who was clearly well educated in a particular topic. Yet regardless of their qualifications, communicating their knowledge and making it consumable for the students and audience was lacking, thus you either remembered nothing or had a hard time grasping the subject.

That is something I would want to avoid when it comes to nature interpretation. Especially as I continue my education in science, I think it is important to remember how lucky I am to have access to this knowledge. Not everyone we will come across in nature interpretation presentations will have the same knowledge, therefore making material accessible and digestible for everyone while still maintaining a certain lesson or theme is a difficult and seasoned task.

These are skills that we have now learn and can also apply to not just nature interpretation but communicating in general, whether its in an interview and you are trying to sell yourself as an applicant or explaining to your grandparents that climate change is real, communicating will be a skillset that will extend past whatever we wish to do with nature interpretation.

That brings me to my next issue, ethics. Assuming we are all very environmentally friendly or strive our best to be we run into moral conflicts all the time. For instance, this summer I have been on the job hunt for placement in some sort of environmental capacity. Yet, I have been at a crossroads with accepting a job that pays very well but is in the natural gasoline sector. As we progress through our careers we will probably run into more of these issues as nature interpreters and related jobs tend to pay less while we might have access to more money in jobs that harm the environment. I cannot remember what chapter, but the textbook mentions how most interpreter positions were volunteer or low paying jobs, and it was their passion for environmental activism that allowed these people to pursue it (Beck et al. 2018). Here I hope that my passion for climate change advocacy and the environment can sustain me in a career where I can be proud of my job and live relatively comfortably.

Since this is my last post and we will not have a post for next week I wanted to share some job opportunities that encompass the learning outcomes of this course. If it inspired you as much as it inspired me, Ontario Parks is hiring folks like us for their Discovery team! What is that you ask? Nature interpreters! They hire over 300 staff members across Ontario to aid in engaging park visitors with the stories and heritage of the land. Live near an Ontario park? Check out their job listing: https://www.ontarioparks.com/parksblog/apply-discovery-program/

Now thinking of what approaches and practices are most suitable for me, I actually first read the prompt as “sustainable for me”, which is also related to what is truly suitable for me.

As a person who sort of struggled through elementary school with paying attention or just simply learning different topics, I would stress the inclusivity of different approaches. Immersing oneself into nature can be a daunting task if one has no previous experience or knowledge. Therefore perhaps an online version of some sort may aid them in slowly becoming comfortable with it. In addition, when also reflecting on our podcast, my group and I really wanted to include as many sounds as we could to help engage the listeners and give them a taste of nature in hopes that it would help inspire them to protect the animals they were listening to. Lastly in the podcast, we wanted to include humour and have it be entertaining throughout. Learning and being lectured on a topic, especially if one is not previously interested in it can cause listeners to not be engaged, yet humour has a way of pulling the audience in. Doomsday approaches to climate change can push skeptics away further and lighting up a topic will be appreciated by the audience and allow them to feel more comfortable.

In the end, I am excited to see where the future of nature interpretation goes. I believe there are many more avenues one can take than simply being a park ranger and it will be interesting to see where it can be implemented. Cheers for now.

- Brooke

[odenvs3000w22]

Hi Brooke,

Thanks for including that job posting and a link! I think that the question of how to apply what we’ve learned in this course, and at Guelph in general, is probably on everyone’s mind as we approach the end of the course - and perhaps even the end of university! As both you and the textbook mentioned, it can also be a challenge to find work that is fulfilling both in principle and financially - the unfortunate reality of a lot of passion work is that it is poorly paid (or largely volunteer-run) or seasonal (which has its own pros and cons). And the ability to live with poorly paid or intermittent work is its own kind of privilege, and I understand why some people chose the pursuit of stability over principles.

That being said I hope that no matter what avenues we and our classmates take, that we continue to advocate for the things that make nature interpretation possible - that is, the preservation of nature. If we collectively make climate change policy a priority - and hold our governments to it - and if we push for and invest in a green economy, and zero-emissions forms of living, then we can help secure a future that is both fulfilling ethically and one that ensures a comfortable and secure living for everyone.

[odenvs3000w22]

Final Post

Having come to (nearly) the end of this course, my conclusion is that activist, rather than interpreter, is the most compelling framework through which to think of my work and goals for the future. The ideals and aims of nature interpretation are certainly admirable:

“Interpreters seek to add the essential elements of heightened appreciation, deeper understanding, and new ways of seeing the world.” (Beck, Cable & Knudson, 2018, p. 9)

“Interpretation takes people from passive appreciation to exciting understanding of the cultural and natural environments they experience.” (Beck, Cable & Knudson, 2018, p. 13)

“The purpose of interpretation goes beyond providing information to reveal deeper meaning and truth.” (Beck, Cable & Knudson, 2018, p. 85)

But I when I think about the beliefs that I bring to my work, about the responsibility that I have toward the world, and the motivations behind the approaches that I have chosen, then appreciation, understanding, and truth are not enough. They are not enough in the face of biodiversity loss, habitat destruction, and human reliance on fossil fuels. They are not enough to quell the climate change-based anxiety which drove me into the field of environmental work in the first place. Moving people from “passive appreciation to exciting understanding” might be step 1 and step 2 of an important process, but in 2022 it is beyond time to have moved to step 3, to concrete action.

Nature interpretation, and the appreciation that it aims to build, provide an important foundation but no guarantee of action. In her book This Changes Everything (2014), Naomi Klein writes about an ad for an Alaskan cruise that appeared in a magazine she was writing for, The Nation, which read: “Come see the glaciers before they melt,” (p. 420). Klein refers to this black humour as “pre-loss”, as the mourning of the Earth and its natural environments before we’ve even really lost them. It is a reaction I have observed in both myself and across the environmental movement; a kind of bleak form of self-protection, as if killing hope in ourselves will hurt less than having it stamped out by someone else. But it also demonstrates that having a deep understanding of nature and the things which threaten it can be dangerous, and even self-defeating if you’re not careful enough.

It makes a certain kind of sense. Engagement with environmental issues seems like it has never been higher; climate marches occur every Friday across Canada, fuelled by youth who cite concern for the future as their reason for being there (Lowrie, 2022). Everyday measures to reduce waste and emissions are becoming common; electric cars are on the roads, many grocery stores no longer distribute plastic bags for free, and plant-based ‘meat’—inspired at least in part by the fact that animal agriculture is a huge driver of greenhouse gas emissions (Eisen & Brown, 2022)—can be found in many fast food joints.

And still, none of it is enough. Long gone are the days when we aimed to prevent any kind of warming of the earth—now a debate rages on as whether we should allow/plan for 1.5℃ of warming or 2. Nevermind that we’re on track to extract five times more fossil fuel reserves than the amount necessary to stay under 2℃ of warming, meaning we’re much more likely to be looking at 3-5 degrees or more (Klein, 2014, p. 148). Nevermind that even 2℃ of warming means death for thousands of species, thousands of humans, and the destruction of habitat across the world.

In his landmark conservation text, A Sand County Almanac, written in 1949, Aldo Leopold wonders if his own act of nature interpretation and environmental education is not in fact an act of cruelty: “[i]t might be wise to prohibit at once all teaching of real botany and real history, lest some future citizen suffer qualms about the floristic price of his good life,” (p. 50). Leopold wonders whether knowing nature less intimately might not make watching its demise less painful; in short, whether ignorance might be bliss in the face of humanity’s unstoppable destruction.

Unfortunately his pessimism has yet to be proved wrong. 70 years since Aldo Leopold wrote A Sand County Almanac, and 170 years since Henry David Thoreau wrote Walden, a text which encapsulates the framework of nature appreciation which undergirds the North American conservation movement, the notion that truly appreciating nature will lead us to protecting it has still failed to pay dividends. Forests continue to be cut down for lumber (and then regrown as monocrops, and then cut down again), urban areas sprawl across formerly valuable farmland, and highways link them all together. And all this happens despite the fact that parks are seeing their highest rates of visitors in years thanks to the pandemic (Volenec, Abraham, Becker, & Dobson, 2021). The appreciation for nature is there, but the destruction continues unabated.

In light of all this, I can think of myself as nothing other than an environmental activist. I am less interested in deepening other’s understanding as I am of galvanizing them into action. I worry that revealing the deeper meaning of our current environmental reality means dropping people into the same pit of despair from which I often fail to struggle out of—knowing the truth is no simple thing, and no less so because some of those truths really hurt. So educating others is important, yes. But within that education, choices need to be made about what to teach, and about what answers we give to certain questions. Examples include resisting the narrative of personal responsibility (and paralyzing guilt) in favour of questioning hegemonic narratives about the way things need to be—that we need to rely on oil, that we need to live wastefully, that that the third and fourth worlds must pay the environmental cost for the luxuries of the first.

Perhaps the kind of interpretation that I need to do to feel I am fulfilling my responsibilities still falls within Beck, Cable, and Knudson’s definition of “go[ing] beyond providing information to reveal deeper meaning and truth,” (p. 85). But calling it activism centres the thing I think both I and the world really need: action.

References

Beck, L., Cable, T.T., Knudson, D.M. (2018) Interpreting Cultural and Natural Heritage For a Better World. Sagamore-Venture Publishing.

Eisen, M. B., & Brown, P. O. (2022) Rapid global phaseout of animal agriculture has the potential to stabilize greenhouse gas levels for 30 years and offset 68 percent of CO2 emissions this century. PLoS Climate 1(2). https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pclm.0000010

Klein, N. (2014). This Changes Everything: Capitalism vs. The Climate. Vintage Canada.

Leopold, A. (1949) A Sand County Almanac: With essays on conservation from Round River. Ballantine Books.

Lowrie, M. (2022, March 25). Climate protests held in cities across Canada as part of global movement. CP 24. https://www.cp24.com/news/climate-protests-held-in-cities-across-canada-as-part-of-global-movement-1.5834941

Volenec, Z. M., Abraham, J. O., Becker, A. D., & Dobson, A. P. (2021). Public parks and the pandemic: How park usage has been affected by COVID-19 policies. PLoS One 16(5). https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pone.0251799

[cdwenvs3000w22]

Blog #7: Nature and Music

For this weeks blog I will be discussing the relationship between music and nature. 

1: Music in nature

I feel that music always exists in nature. As I walk through nature I can hear the birds chirping in unique melodies, the water in rivers ebbing and flowing, The crash of a wave, the wind rustling through the trees, the sound of animals scurrying in the distance. All of these sounds together create the “song that nature sings” it is quite a beautiful song in my opinion. Music in nature is so beautiful because it is a result of nature just existing, nothing is planned or rehearsed, the song does not require production. The song flows freely which makes it all the more amazing to hear. 

2: Nature in music 

I feel that nature is used a lot in music for storytelling purposes and lyrical symbolisms. I feel this also goes for writing such as poetry, nature is used to portray thoughts and feelings. I believe that nature exists in music within lyrics because nature represents many things for the human world. For example, roses symbolize romance, love, beauty and courage and so through lyrics roses can be used to symbolize these meanings through song. 

When thinking of these nature/music relationships it brings me to think about songs that trigger a memory or feeling concerning the natural world. The first song that comes to mind is “letting go” by Ziggy Alberts. 

Album Cover: Letting Go- Ziggy Alberts

As you can see from the album cover, the artist created this album with nature as his muse. The feeling that nature brings, the freedom and the ability to let go of weights pulling you down, making you feel stuck. The first verse of this song is: 

We cut through glaciers and coastlines, by the afternoon, and rivers cut through the gorge and waters clean and the waters smooth.

See, i’ve been trying to move along, move along, consumed in keeping strong, for far too long, when all i had to do was rest my head and rest my heart. You don’t have to feel like this no. 

Im letting go.

When I think of music I like to listen to while walking through nature, I think of songs that help me relax, help me let go of my anxiety and stress. This song really calls to me because the artist relates the freedom nature has, flowing and moving along to letting go of fear and just letting what happens happen and stop trying so hard to be perfect or keep yourself composed all the time. I usually listen to this song on walks by myself through the forest, at a time when I am feeling stressed or sad.

Album Cover: Texas Sun- Khruangbin & Leon Bridges

This is a song I like to listen to on nice car rides in the summer, when the sun is out or going down. The windows open and the warm summer air on my face. This song makes me feel at peace in that summer moment, when I have nothing to worry about but the drive, the views of the country side or waterfront and an empty road ahead. The first couple lines of this song are: 

You say you like the wind blowing through your hair 

Well, come on, roll with me ‘till the sun goes down

Texas sun.

Say you wanna hit the highway while the engine roars

Well, come on, roll with me ‘till the sun goes down

That Texas sun.

It is a beautiful song that really captures the feeling I get while driving through nature. There is a beautiful guitar inside of the song that truly creates this summer loving and relaxing atmosphere while listening. 

Overall the relationship between nature and music is evident to me. In my life music plays a large roll in my connection to nature as a whole. I am happy that I got to dive a little deeper into my personal connections with nature and music. 

Hope you enjoyed reading this weeks post :)

[odenvs3000w22]

Hello!

I wanted to start off my reply by complimenting the album art of the songs you’ve chosen - how gorgeous! I know this week’s discussion is about music, but I think both album covers also serve as such beautiful representations of a point you made, about how nature can inspire human storytelling and symbolism! In particular the Texas Sun art evokes the hopeful optimism of 70s flowerchild culture, which we could honestly probably use a good dose of in these troubled times.

 I think what is really standing out to me in this week’s reflection, and in reading others’ posts, is that music takes nature and applies it to human experience, and allows us to express things about ourselves by representing them as outside of ourselves. In that sense, drawing those connections between nature and music really fulfill Beck, Cable, and Knudson’s argument that interpretation should “…instill in people the ability, and the desire, to sense the beauty in their surroundings—to provide spiritual uplift...” (2018, p. 85)

[odenvs3000w22]

Blog 7: Music

The most evocative music-nature moment I can think of is, I admit, not based on “real” nature per se. It is an instrumental track titled “Septimus” from the Stardust (2007) movie soundtrack, composed and performed by Ilan Eshkeri, Andy Brown, and the London Metropolitan Orchestra. The track, full of swelling themes, frenetic violins, and intense percussion, brings to mind the landscapes featured in the movie; gorgeous vistas from Scotland, Wales, and Iceland. Hearing the song immediately calls to mind the rolling hills, downy heaths, and stunning cliffs of the movie’s setting. It is similar to my other favourite nature/movie landscape moment - “Liz on Top of the World” from the Pride and Prejudice (2005) film, where again swelling and majestic music plays while a character stands on top of a cliff with rolling hills in the background (these ones are in England, however).

Quiraing | Photo by Robbie Wilson

None of these landscapes are “real” however. Although they were obviously filmed in real places, the twin effects of clever filming and editing render them empty of human presence except for the actors. There is little to suggest human impact either—even though in reality filming in these incredible natural places can often cause huge damage.

I’m not sure why my immediate association for nature-music is movies; maybe I don’t watch many nature documentaries, or listen to music while outside (in fact people who listen to loud music while hiking are one of my biggest pet peeves!). Nor am I going to go the route of “bird song is music, the music of the wind, trees are music” etc etc, because I actually don’t like the thought of folding those things into music. Music is a human art form, and it can be inspired by natural sounds, fold in elements of it, and even be enjoyed by members of nature, like parrots that repeat melodies or dogs that listen to calming soundtracks during thunderstorms. But sounds in nature are just that; they’re the byproduct of life, the expression of alive things in a space. That in and of itself is not art; it is existence.

Why is the distinction important? I worry that the beautiful vistas captured in Stardust and Pride and Prejudice fulfill the same function as nature documentaries about tigers and zebras. They portray nature as something fantastically beautiful, but also far away and—though threatened—nevertheless perfectly preserved in film. We want to save the rhinos, sure, but even if we don’t, well, we won’t miss their presence in our day-to-day lives, and we can always go back and watch a documentary about them if we do. Those vistas I admire probably don’t look like that anymore, especially since they were filmed almost 20 years ago, but also because they probably didn’t look that untouched and uninhabited to begin with. If I truly want to engage with nature I have to go outside into my own backyard and listen to the sounds of life—or their absence—and go from there. Music can be a tool that enhances our enjoyment and appreciation of nature, but it cannot be a stand-in for it.

[arenvs3000w22]

Unpacking a Quote from Edward Hyams

“There is no peculiar merit in ancient things, but there is merit in integrity, and integrity entails the keeping together of the parts of any whole, and if these parts are scattered throughout time, then the maintenance of integrity entails a knowledge, a memory, of ancient things. …. To think, feel or act as though the past is done with, is equivalent to believing that a railway station through which our train has just passed, only existed for as long as our train was in it.”

Interpretation calls for authenticity – a prudence in telling the whole story from an unbiased point of view. The age of a place does not inform its value, but rather its history does: the people who influenced the landscape and their reasons for doing so. The example at the beginning of Chapter 15 in the text shares this beautifully. People connect more with locations with a rich, well-preserved history. The students of Cabot Yerxa Elementary School felt a greater sense of pride and identity in their neighbourhood after learning about the endeavours of its namesake (Beck & Cable, 2018). Interpreters have the joy and responsibility of sharing the events of the past with their audience. The past can serve as a caution to audiences and inspire a more peaceful future, or nurture a sense of pride in people who made history better in these spaces. In either case, the past is not obsolete. It must be actively remembered and learned from.

Importantly, many of the resources that interpreters use to develop their understanding of the past are not objective. Personal experience is both valuable and biased, so it is important to seek diverse perspectives to share with the audience. The textbook cited the example of Christopher Columbus as either a hero or a villain, depending on who you ask (Beck & Cable, 2018). The danger in telling only one side of the story is that groups who have been traumatized by the past are silenced or neglected. This further illustrates how the past remains relevant to the present in its ability to divide groups of people. Sharing the past from multiple perspectives encourages dialogue between people with opposite experiences. 

The three tenets of interpretive authenticity expressed in Chapter 15 were memorable to me this week: objective, constructed, and personal authenticity (Beck & Cable, 2018). 

Relating these to the interpretation of natural spaces, some questions an interpreter could ask to determine the objective authenticity of a place might be: How similar is this landscape to its historical form? How can I make the experience of being physically in this space true to its history? How can I accurately describe modern differences from the historical features of the site to enhance my audience’s understanding? 

In interpreting the constructed authenticity, one could ask: Has the space been modified or reconstructed to better emulate its past? How does this enhance my audience’s experience? How can I be transparent about the parts of the landscape that have been reproduced? 

And finally, in interpreting personal authenticity, one could ask: Have diverse, relevant perspectives been consulted in the maintenance or construction of this space? Do visitors glean a sense of deepened identity or connection to the history of this space after experiencing it?

I found it helpful to remember that natural sites are often drastically changed by historical events, and likewise, historical events are often shaped by the presence of natural resources. The relationship between people and landscapes is dynamic, and histories are complex. Good research is imperative to interpreting the history of natural spaces.

To close, I wanted to share an anecdote from a trip to Quebec City I took with my French class a couple of years ago. I had a great experience with a living history interpreter, who went into first person character at two separate sites within the same day. She did such a wonderful job of sticking to her character in each situation that it took me until the end of the second presentation to realize that I had seen her already earlier that day! She was adept at answering questions in character, and had planned engaging treasure hunt activities to teach us about her “daily life.” And, as a bonus, she was bilingual and presented to us in both English and French to enhance our understanding. I was really impressed with her skills, and I was inspired that people like her exist to so passionately share the rich and beautiful history of Quebec City in such a bustling metropolitan environment where relics of the past are still abundant. I don’t think I would ever be interested in being a living history interpreter, but I’m curious to hear about your experiences with such programs. Do you find living history to be a positive way to experience historical sites? What do you think are the hallmarks of a good living history demonstration?

Until next week!

Quebec City today, complete with fortified city walls. The walls represent many years of violent conflict between the British and French. Some of the earliest conflicts in Canada’s colonial history still affect some citizens as French-speaking vs. English-speaking disputes today. Photo from: https://www.quebec-cite.com/en/old-quebec-city/inside-quebec-citys-walls

Beck, L., Cable, T. T., & Knudson, D. M. (2018). Interpreting cultural and natural heritage: For A Better World. SAGAMORE Publishing.

[odenvs3000w22]

Hi Annika,

I wanted to respond to your post this week since your focus on living history really resonated with me - particularly the observation that the past is not obsolete but rather must be actively remembered and learned from. That, in connection with your description of the wonderful history interpreter from Quebec City, got me thinking about what living history presentations I’ve found most interesting, and which I’ve learned the most from. It’s not actually employees of historical sites that have fascinated me the most, but rather a more non-traditional source of historical education: historical costume re-creators on YouTube. These are people (mostly women) who recreate historical garb using only historical methods, and who film the process and findings of these recreations. The most popular is probably Bernadette Banner, a costume historian who creates wonderfully aesthetic videos. However your question about the hallmarks of a good living history presentation actually reminded me of Elin Abrahamsson’s recreation of a 17th century Swedish working woman’s outfit - again using only methods and materials that would have been available to someone of that time period. This form of living history presentation really stayed with me because Elin included touches that made it feel personally authentic; namely she made mistakes, and had to undo work and add pieces to the garment she was making. The result was two-fold; I actually learned from her mistake how to fix a mistake I myself had recently made in a sewing project, and it also made the video feel like a much more interesting exploration of how real women in the 17th century might have dealt with problems like a shortage of material. By providing historical context for her method, but also exploring the real-life challenges of carrying out that method, Elin ended up making a great piece of educational material.

[odenvs3000w22]

Blog 6: Time

There is no peculiar merit in ancient things, but there is merit in integrity, and integrity entails the keeping together of the parts of any whole, and if these parts are scattered throughout time, then the maintenance of integrity entails a knowledge, a memory, of ancient things. …. To think, feel or act as though the past is done with, is equivalent to believing that a railway station through which our train has just passed, only existed for as long as our train was in it.

(Edward Hyams, Chapter 7, The Gifts of Interpretation)

Chronology is a form of distance that we don’t often think about. In our blogs so far, my classmates and I have been asked to consider the distance that personal circumstances and characteristics may put between us and the object of interpretation (privilege), and the distance between the appearance of a thing and our understanding of it (art). Through these previous topics we have explored different facets of the challenge of interpretation, namely how to “[take] people from passive appreciation to exciting understanding of the cultural and natural environments they experience.” (Beck, Cable & Knudson, 2018, p. 13).

Privilege, and the lack thereof, can be both a physical and psychological barrier toward experiencing and understanding a work of interpretation as the interpreter intended it. Art can be challenging too; again the creator’s intentions may not always be understood as intended, and the subjective interpretation that is the hallmark of art appreciation means a plurality of messages can be taken from the same object. Time presents a different and yet not dissimilar challenge—the “scattering throughout time” can lead to completely different conclusions being drawn from parts rather than a whole. We’ve often talked about how under the embellishments of narratives and themes that bring the concepts to life, interpreters nevertheless have a duty to present an honest, as-accurate-as-possible explanation of the things they are interpreting. It is this context, this knowledge, which brings together the scattered parts, which recognizes the network of railway stations through which our train is traveling.

But it’s not just about having enough context to put together a true and accurate understanding of a historical object or place. Our textbook talks about the three different kinds of authenticity; objective, constructed, and personal (Beck, Cable & Knudson, 2018, p. 339). The last kind of authenticity is arguably the most important, as it describes whether the person experiencing the historical interpretation feels they have had an authentic experience. The absence of personal authenticity might mean that, even when presented with accurate facts, someone might come away from an experience without fully internalizing it or learning from it, because it didn’t feel real.

My favourite example of personal authenticity and how it can affect interpretation is “the Tiffany problem”. The term, coined by author Jo Walton, describes scenarios where historical information is considered unbelievable because of the audience’s perception of the past (Povey, 2020). The name of the problem identifies one such scenario—the name “Tiffany” dates back to the 12th century, and was commonly used for women born on or near the feast of the Epiphany. But to a modern reader, coming across the name Tiffany in a piece of historical fiction might strike us as an anachronistic error, and might take us out of the authentic historical experience that the narrative was otherwise providing.

The Tiffany problem illustrates yet another challenge that time poses to interpretation; not only must we struggle to bring together scattered parts of history into a cogent whole, but we must also present it in ways that feel believable and real to our audiences.

References Beck, L., Cable, T.T., Knudson, D.M. (2018) Interpreting Cultural and Natural Heritage For a Better World. Sagamore-Venture Publishing.

Povey, J. R. (2020, February 28). The Tiffany Problem — When History Makes No Sense. The Startup. https://medium.com/swlh/the-tiffany-problem-when-history-makes-no-sense-703b86522627

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What I Have Been Thinking About

As I have progressed through the environmental science program at Guelph, my understanding of environmental issues as grown, as well as my understanding of how many things we do day to day can have significant environmental impacts. For instance, while the news is focus on the economic and political impact of the trucker anti-vaccine protests, this same protest is actually having a negative environmental impact. At the focal point of the protest is the city of Ottawa, where air quality has diminished since the start of the protest. This is due to the fact that these trucks are idling for hours, as well as the use of multiple barbeques and campfires. The current air pollutant level for Ottawa is 14 time greater than the average (Sears 2022). Many harmful substances, such as arsenic, formaldehyde, benzene, etc., are produced through the emissions of diesel engines (Sears 2022). To add many of those substances are linked to causing cancer and cause serious health concerns. The main concern from these diesel emissions is the particle matter (PM 2.5) emissions into the air. The current PM 2.5 level is actually 4 to 8 times greater than normal levels (Sears 2022). Without high winds or other form of dispersal the emissions will be confined to the area, seriously affecting the people that live and work in the area.

I personally believe that these truckers don’t realize the toll they are putting on the people in Ottawa and the negative environmental impact they are causing. As nature interpreters, someone needs to help inform them of the ecological impact these are putting on that region.

Additionally, I also I recently watched a video, “What Happens If Yellowstone Blows Up Tomorrow,” on Yellowstone National Park. Yellowstone is located in the United States, specifically in northwestern Wyoming, southern Montana, and eastern Idaho. The national park is still currently volcanically active, but many scientists have concluded that there is no potential threat. I found it fascinating that as it stands, Yellowstone is overdue for an eruption. The video goes on to describe the environmental impact an eruption would have on the world. For example, the lava that would be emitted from the eruption would disperse over the area the size of Texas. Additionally, the ash that would be produced would engulf the entire United States. This would kill neighboring communities and impose health concerns to surrounding areas, as well as around the world. After watching the video, I have been contemplating what action to be taken to either prepare for the disaster and or how we can decrease the magnitude of the eruption. As well as how we can decrease the chances of having an eruption to occur.

After researching various websites and how to stop Yellowstone from erupting, I came across an article posing the option of drilling to release the pleasure under Yellowstone. The article goes on saying how attempting to release this pleasure would increase the chances of erupting and cause negative consequences (What If 2020). I found it alarming that no action is being taken to limit this potential disaster and any of the proposed actions could have unintended negative consequences. Reflecting on this, while most of our focus is on dealing with manmade environmental issues and impact, there are several other natural environmental risks around the world that could have an even greater negative impact on our planet. Does this mean we should give up?  Or should we still control what we can control?  Personally, I still think we need to control what we can, and the human race has the ability to make changes to help preserve our plant, even though mother nature may still ultimately decide our fate.  What do you think?

References:

Sears, Sarah. Protesters’ idling trucks are making downtown Ottawa’s air quality worse. 2022. CBC News.

What If. What if the Yellowstone Volcano Erupted Tomorrow? 2020. Youtube

[odenvs3000w22]

Hi Noah,

I wanted to reply to your post this week since the trucker convoy has also been weighing heavily on my mind. This week I had to write a paper for another course I’m in, part of which was talking about the future of the environmental movement. There is a consensus on the scientific community that we have to make some big changes globally to cut our emissions and stop the earth from warming to a degree that will be catastrophic for all life on the planet. Now obviously big changes means involvement of the government, since that’s how we organize our society. But the trucker convoy really scares me because it demonstrates just how angry some people get when they are asked to sacrifice something to protect others. The fact that this movement has undermined the authority of the government by taking over Ottawa to the degree it has is truly terrifying, since I’ve never seen the climate movement stage protests quite as striking.

You also bring up the worrying point of air quality, something I’ve seen supported by anecdotal evidence from residents in Ottawa. While I truly feel for the residents of Ottawa who are being subjected to the presence of the convoy, I can’t help thinking that these trucks release these pollutants all the time - right now they’re just concentrated in a place where when people complain about it, they’re actually listened to. But what about all the places where pollution is slowly degrading the environment, like in many First Nations communities? Who we listen to, and who we don’t, is really worrying when it comes to environmental impacts.

[odenvs3000w22]

Blog 5

When given free rein to write on anything, my thoughts almost inevitably turn to the subject I can rarely stop thinking about, and which arguably poses the greatest threat to the future of nature and its interpreters; climate change, environmental destruction, and ecopain.

The subject is not unrelated to this week’s course topic of interpretation through science, because it is precisely through science that I am forced to face facts that are intensely difficult to internalize. I am currently reading Naomi Klein’s This Changes Everything (2014), which is an insightful assessment of the current (or slightly dated) state of the fight against climate change. Klein writes about the systemic barriers to the kind of real change that we need to prevent catastrophic global warming, and the book is full of one case study after another that demonstrates the ways in which the oil and gas industry, along with complicit governments, scheme to keep plundering the earth for fuel to keep our economy chugging along. Klein supports her arguments with scientific evidence, including citations on fossil fuels’ long term effects on health (of both people and the planet). She also discusses how climate change deniers use science to their own ends, whether through cherry-picking scientific facts that support their views, or outright funding scientists to give them the results they want. Washington Wachira’s TED talk on birds is a beautiful, poetic interpretation of science—but not everyone who sets out to interpret science does so with such noble intentions.

The part of This Changes Everything that has stayed with me the most so far, however, is not a scientific fact but a moment of emotional resonance. In her introduction, Klein writes:

A great many of us engage in this kind of climate change denial. We look for a split second and then we look away. Or we look but then turn it into a joke (“more signs of the Apocalypse?”). Which is another way of looking away … Or maybe we do look—really look—but then, inevitably, we seem to forget. Remember and then forget again. Climate change is like that; it’s hard to keep in your head for very long. We engage in this odd form of on-again-off-again ecological amnesia for perfectly rational reasons. We deny because we fear that letting in the full reality of this crisis will change everything. And we are right. (Klein, 2014, p. 3-4)

This quote from the beginning stayed with me even some 400-odd pages later at the end of  the book, because it is such a relatable expression of why it is difficult to grapple with climate change as an individual. I’ve been a vaguely eco-conscious person all my life, and so I kind of half-knew a lot, if not most, of what this book covers. And yet actually reading it, actually sitting down and wrestling with the details, requires a level of vulnerability I was unprepared for - the reverse of hiding under your blankets from the monsters, because what you can’t see can’t hurt you. I’ve heard this feeling described as ecopain, which is fitting, but to my friends I’ve often described reading about climate change as “staring into the sun”—because it’s so hard to look for very long. But of course, you have to look.

I think as nature interpreters we have a responsibility to communicate the seriousness of the moment we find ourselves in, and allowing ourselves to feel ecopain can help fuel those efforts. At the same time, however, we cannot allow ourselves to be consumed by it, to be paralyzed the enormity of the fight against climate change. How to pull off that balancing act is something I’m still working on.

References

Klein, N. (2014). This Changes Everything: Capitalism vs. The Climate. Vintage Canada.

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Art & Vulnerability: Risk or Reward?

For many, as soon as you bring up art, fear is struck within their souls. I have witnessed this phenomenon many times; whether it be in some of my classmates’ posts who proclaim they don’t have one artistic bone in their body, or even in self-proclaimed artistic individuals who are simply struck with fear when having to create. I am no exception to this. While I consider myself an artist, being in a constant state of creation and imagination since I can remember, I often find myself stuck in place when it comes to actually sharing my work.

It is my belief that all of these different forms of fear surrounding art stem from the same problem: vulnerability. Looking back at Hahn’s Six Declines of Modern Youth that was presented to us in Unit 4, many valid points were made about how “modern society” has negatively impacted us. However, I believe that the real tragedy of modernity is how most people mistake vulnerability as a weakness, when it’s really one of the greatest strengths we possess. I prefer to see vulnerability as a risk of gain (R+), where opening up to those around you presents a real emotional risk, but also has the opportunity to bring about great growth or gain. Art at its core is essentially just a visual/physical from of vulnerability, in which the artist allows the viewers to engage with a part of themselves, putting themselves at the mercy of their interpretation. While many see this as a risk of loss (R-), this vulnerability is what makes art such a useful tool for nature interpretation.

As stated in Freeman Tilden’s fifth principle of interpretation, “The chief aim of interpretation is not instruction, but provocation”. Reading that principle was almost like an “aha!” moment, where it finally clicked what nature interpretation really entails. Sure, a sign listing the native species in the surrounding area can be informational, but this is in no way nature interpretation. Visitors will most likely walk by without giving it a second glance, or at most will passively read the information and move on. There is no engagement, there is no provocation, there is no vulnerability, there is nothing that will encourage the visitors to have a connection with the native species listed on that hypothetical sign. By integrating some form of art (which is a very broad word, one that has many different definitions so feel free to interpret it as you wish) it is now possible to form that kind of connection between the visitors and the subject at hand. Not only does it show that you as an interpreter care about the subject (which will inherently make the visitors more eager to pay attention), but it more importantly encourages them to begin thinking past the words on the sign, essentially forming their own personal connection to the surrounding nature.

I have always believed that everyone is an artist just as no one is an artist. Art at its core is subjective, therefore who am i to say what is “good” art and what isn’t. The sole factor that separates art from the mundane is the love and passion put into it. If you are able to recognize love and passion, then you are able to interpret nature through art, even though you might not realize that’s what you are doing at the moment. And as a nature interpreter, being vulnerable in your love and passion for nature through art is a risk that has the potential to lead to amazing connections with others.

I’d like to finish this blog post with another quote from the textbook that was really eye opening for me and really highlights the importance of art in nature interpretation:

“True love, deep love, abiding love sustains us as people in a complex society and ecosystem. Producing this kind of love can come only from direct acquaintance.”

I’d love to hear how other people interpret this quote, as well as its connection to their own experiences with the risks and rewards of art.

[odenvs3000w22]

Hi Marie!

I think the link between art and fear that you’ve picked up on is very insightful. I too have noticed how so many of our classmates’ posts started with caveats that they’re not particularly artistic or qualified to interpret art, and wonder where that comes from. You’ve called it vulnerability here and in my post I referred to it as sincerity, but it ultimately boils down to the same concept of the fear of opening yourself up by expressing your feelings about something, which after all is what art asks us to do. It also makes me reflect on how eager children are to make art, and how slowly embarrassment creeps in and only those who are practiced enough to make “good” art keep at it. That might make it challenging for us to include art in our nature interpretation practices - but that lovely quotation you’ve picked out at the end reminds us why we have to do it. Love, for both the ecosystem and for one another, should urge us to share those vulnerable and sincere feelings we have, especially if it can help us save nature.

[odenvs3000w22]

Blog 4: Art & Nature

My answer to this week’s prompt is fairly simple. To the question of who I am to interpret nature through art, my response is that I am human.

Many of my classmates this week are approaching this prompt with some trepidation, as they don’t consider themselves particularly artistic. I think this is a totally understandable response for a multitude of reasons. Art is so often an emotional response to something, and sharing those emotional responses makes us feel vulnerable, especially the more sincere our original emotions were. Nevertheless, we need not be so self-effacing, since art has always been a way in which we respond to the world. In fact I would argue that to create art is a fundamental human quality.

Feline Fresco (Chauvet Cave, Ardèche) L. Guichard/Perazio/smergc 2008/2008 From the collection of Grotte Chauvet - UNESCO World Heritage Site

Consider the paintings in the Chauvet-Pont d’Arc Cave in France. Made 37,000 years ago by Paleolithic people, the paintings depict lions, horses, mammoths, aurochs (ancestors of cattle), and other scenes from the prehistoric world of the artists (Hammer, 2015). The Chauvet Cave is twice as old any other cave painting we have discovered (e.g. the Lascaux Cave which contains paintings 19,000-17,000 years old). At the time of its discovery it changed researchers’ understandings of when humans began to create symbolic art. Was this an act of nature interpretation? Jean Clottes, an archeologist and scholar of rock art, suggests that the Paleolithic artists depicted animals (and rarely ever humans) because they were “sources of both sustenance and terror,” (Clottes in Hammer, 2015). The presence of fires and altars at many cave painting sites—paired with the fact that these sites are often difficult to access—suggests that the art might have spiritual significance as well, and the caves were sites of communing with spirits.

© DRAC Rhône-Alpes / Ministère de la Culture et de la Communication

Our textbook suggests that the role of art in nature interpretation is to “…instill in people the ability, and the desire, to sense the beauty in their surroundings—to provide spiritual uplift and to encourage resource preservation.” (Beck, Cable & Knudson, 2018, p. 85). The last directive is a product of our much more recent and destructive relationship with nature. The rest, however, makes a good argument for cave paintings as nature interpretation; they depict fearful but beautiful things, and allowed humans the opportunity to dwell on their surroundings, and perhaps even tap in to the spiritual world.

Our textbook also argues that in order to make a piece of interpretation compelling, it must lead with a theme that is universally understandable to the audience, whether or not they ultimately agree with the message of the interpretation. When it comes to art, I would suggest that the equation goes the other way as well; we make art in order to grapple with those universal themes, ones that are often so large and overwhelming that we feel compelled to break them into little pieces in order to understand them. Nature, which has meant so many different things to us during our long tenure as a species on this planet, gets the same treatment. We attempt to capture our emotional responses to it in art, and in doing so hope to understand the whole.

References

Beck, L., Cable, T.T., Knudson, D.M. (2018) Interpreting Cultural and Natural Heritage For a Better World. Sagamore-Venture Publishing.

Hammer, J. (2015, April). Finally, the Beauty of France’s Chauvet Cave Makes its Grand Public Debut. Smithsonian Magazine. https://www.smithsonianmag.com/history/france-chauvet-cave-makes-grand-debut-180954582/

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Blog Post #3 Privilege

The use of the lens of privilege and self-examination of that privilege in nature interpretation can be an interesting one, especially depending on how it is used. On the one hand, examining the different advantages and opportunities that are available to a subject can illuminate how variable an experience with nature can be. What it means to be “in nature” can mean something different for a well-off farmer, versus a marginalized minimum wage worker who lives in the middle of the suburbs, but makes an effort to take the bus to a public park once a week. A farm owner is likely to see nature as something that is waiting to be brought under the plough, so that value can be drawn from the fertile topsoil in the form of various cash crops, maybe canola or soybean. The worker might simply appreciate a municipal park with some trees for shade and a creek running through it as a brief reprieve from their usual scenery, or maybe a place to cool off in the summer, if they don’t have access to air-conditioning in their house. Someone who is homeless might see the same public park as one of the only places in the city they will be allowed to rest for the night, as one of the few areas not designated as private property in the modern city.

A fourth person, someone who spends their summers in northern Ontario guiding canoe trips, but lives in the city in the winter, might not even see this specific municipal park as “nature”, instead viewing it as a well defined plot of land regularly maintained by the city. It would be easy to miss that, despite this park coming well short in terms of area, flora, and fauna, it exists as a far more regular and accessible part of nature, in comparison with some backwoods piece of land that takes a week to travel to.

It can be easy to treat privilege as a 21st century form of confession or even indulgences, except instead of confessing your sins, or paying for them with donations to the church, you confess your advantages in life, or donate to some charity, and your wealth or skin colour or class position is no longer held against you. Simply to state that you were born with two parents, who worked quality union jobs, with two cars in the driveway, and that you were exposed to the outdoors very young, in a country where wilderness exploration is very accessible to those with the time and means to pursue it, does not in itself wash away those privileges, or end the reproduction of those differences for the next generation. 

In my mind, the use of the invisible knapsack in nature interpretation is to lay out what can be done to change those disparities, and make the enjoyment of nature no longer exclusive. Maintaining passenger rail lines out of the suburbs would make not owning a vehicle less of a barrier, as would designing cities with more greenspace within their limits to begin with. Increasing funding to public schools to give them the ability to host robust outdoor education programs would ensure that everyone has the opportunity to see what is out there. Eliminating private, for-profit school boards would ensure that the wealthy parents that send their kids there for a “better quality” education instead put that money and effort into the public board, ensuring that if they want their child to go on weeklong discovery canoe trips, then so can every other child, regardless of their parents class position.

[odenvs3000w22]

Hi Keegan,

Thanks for this post, and for your reply to mine! I appreciated reading a fellow exploration on both the utility of the concept of personal privilege, as well as its limitations. I especially appreciate your comparison to confession or indulgences, because I think it captures very precisely something that I was trying to say in my own post, namely how if explorations of privilege are not used as fuel for directed action, they just become a form of public self-deprecation. Especially as a white person, I try to be very mindful of the frustration that I’ve heard and seen many people of colour express over “white guilt” - a frustration that, according to my understanding, also comes from the uselessness of just stating your privileges in the hopes that they then won’t be held against you. Privileges aren’t sins to be negated through public confessions, as you point out - rather they’re a way to illuminate both the tools you possess in order to take action, and the obstacles that might be standing in the way of others (which you can then use your tools to help them overcome!).

I think we came to the same conclusion, which is that taking action to change the system should be the ultimate goal. I especially like the idea of eliminating private schools!!

[odenvs3000w22]

Blog 3

I am someone who has been familiar with the concept of privilege, and interrogating my own, for a long time. Part of that is a result of my age; I grew up at at time when “social justice warriors” were openly mocked in the mainstream, and yet as a young person who was just beginning to learn about the depth at which inequity is embedded in our system, social justice was also a rallying cry. I was also online at at time when discourse was (and continues to be) a very important word, especially among the young queer people, and especially on platforms like this one (anyone who was on tumblr in 2014 will know what I’m talking about!). And a huge part of that discourse was unpacking the privileges and biases you might be bringing into any conversation about equity.

Considering this background, I was surprised when the course write-up for this week suggested that material regarding privilege was something that was “likely little of it familiar to you until now.” In fact this week’s assignment, a write-up of our own privileges, assumes that the audience of the course is largely privileged. While this might be a fair assumption considering the audience of this course are university students, I’m not sure it’s the most useful lens in exploring challenges to nature access. Discussions of personal privilege encourage us to individualize the problems that threaten nature interpretation (or nature more broadly!). It reminds me of the “carbon footprint” concept, a campaign that encouraged us to take individual responsibility for how much carbon we contribute to the atmosphere. The utility of a concept like this is belied by the fact that the personalized carbon footprint was a marketing campaign sponsored by British Petroleum, the second largest non-state owned oil company in the world (Solnit, 2021).

Why would BP launch a campaign like this? It isn’t to actually get people to cut down on their use of oil, of course. It’s because oil companies, like so many other drivers of the world’s reliance on the use of fossil fuels—and, following from this, the destruction of nature—know that individual action is a weak tool against systemic pressure. What they fear is collective action, situations where we band together to examine how our actions are guided and enforced by the systems we live in.

Personal privilege is a useful tool as a first step in the exploration of these systemic forces. However when I acknowledge my whiteness as a privilege, I cannot stop there—I must ask who benefits from telling me my whiteness is a source of superiority, and who might be interested by dividing me from those I share material interests with, on the basis of skin colour. When I acknowledge my able-bodiedness and neurotypicalness as a privilege, I must ask why our system insists on leaving behind disabled people, and ask why the ability to be productive trumps human dignity and respect.

When it comes to nature interpretation, my interrogation of my personal privilege will only be useful if it leads me toward a critical interrogation of the socioeconomic reasons behind why so few of us have access and familiarity with nature. Our textbook points out that the reason minority populations have low rates of park attendance are economic barriers, cultural barriers, and communication barriers (Beck, Cable & Knudson, 2018, p. 132). As an individual, there is little I can do to expand a bus service, or change a culture that undervalues access to greenspace. But from a collective action perspective, I can see that the need of a capitalist society to be constantly productive means we are endlessly using up natural resources, meaning there is less and less nature of us to experience. The need to underpay workers in order to make profits off of them requires those workers to live in cheap housing, in crowded urban centres, far from nature. A capitalist focus on individual success leads to an unwillingness to contribute to social programs and public infrastructure, which means those same underpaid, often racialized workers, have no bus system with which to access public parks.

My answer as to what role privilege plays in nature interpretation is that while explorations of personal privilege might be a useful first step and opportunity to modify our personal actions, ultimately we need to ask bigger questions about system inequalities in order to truly and effectively allow access to nature for all.

Beck, L., Cable, T.T., Knudson, D.M. (2018) Interpreting Cultural and Natural Heritage For a Better World. Sagamore-Venture Publishing.

Solnit, R. (2021, August 23). Big oil coined ‘carbon footprints’ to blame us for their greed. Keep them on the hook. The Guardian. (https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2021/aug/23/big-oil-coined-carbon-footprints-to-blame-us-for-their-greed-keep-them-on-the-hook)

[odenvs3000w22]

Blog 2: My Ideal Role

My goal as a natural interpreter is to work from the small scale to the large scale. My current job could be interpreted as interpretation, as I work as a general labourer and gardener for Ecoman, a landscaping company that works exclusively with native plants. The company’s owner, Jonas Spring, is a biodiversity enthusiast whose central philosophy is that of ecological reference, ie creating landscapes within the city that take reference from corresponding natural spaces. For example, a condo balcony could be planted with species that thrive on cliffs. A shady suburban yard can be filled with woodland understory plants. A garden planted in a former parking lot is filled with plants that can thrive in hot, direct sun.

This garden was one of my first big jobs with Ecoman. I like to think that we tore up a parking lot to build paradise (which I hope would make Joni Mitchell happy!), or more specifically, a garden in front of the Native Child and Family Services centre in Scarborough.

Stewardship of the natural heritage of our ecoregion is necessary a part of this work. Through the plants we chose to work with, as well as the design choices we make, we are constantly communicating to the clients—and to any one else who might admire our work—about the importance of supporting native species, about biodiversity, and about respecting natural heritage. To me this fits in with the definition of interpretation as a tool which “takes people from passive appreciation to exciting understanding of the cultural and natural environments they experience.” (Beck, Cable & Knudson, 2018, p. 13).

In the future I could very well see myself continuing this work on a larger scale. Native gardening has become an exciting frontier thanks to the efforts of scholars like Douglas Tallamy, who points out that most land in North America is privately owned. If this land were to all be landscaped with native plants, it would vastly outnumber the size of any national park, and be a powerful force in supporting the genetic pools of native plants, as well as the insects, birds, and mammals that feed on them (Tallamy, 2007). To pursue this work I would want to continue my education as a budding ecologist, in order to better understand the interrelations between native organisms and native gardening, and how best the latter can be utilized in order to support biodiversity. I would also want to be skilled at then communicating that knowledge and experience to the general public—and of course clients. Native gardening can be a useful tool in extending habitat and creating continuous area of greenspace; however, it is only effective if the organisms who inhabit these spaces can get from one to the next. Therefore learning how to effectively engage the largest group of people I possibly can in getting excited about native gardening is my primary goal in my development as a natural interpreter.

References Beck, L., Cable, T.T., Knudson, D.M. (2018) Interpreting Cultural and Natural Heritage For a Better World. Sagamore-Venture Publishing.

Tallamy, D. W. (2007) Bringing Nature Home: How you can sustain wildlife with native plants. Timber Press.

[scvenvs3000semester]

Great post, I have also worked in the tree planting business in Muskoka and I totally agree that when you are done you get a good feeling because you know you doing what you can to help out. I’m glad that you’re choosing to continue on with this and wish you the best of luck. The concept of planting native trees in very urban areas is very cool and so is the spatial management aspect of it. I do have one question. Even though most of the land in north America is privately owned, a lot of this is used for agricultural purposes and is necessary for food sources, would you propose replacing these fields with native plants? Or would you take a different approach so that its incorporates native trees as well as crops? A cool part of urban gardening that fascinates me is urban farming and roof top gardens, which are other great examples of great use of space. Have you ever explored into the field of urban farming? It is a great use of space, benefits many types of species, filters CO2, and provides food for people without harmful production and shipping emissions. Once again great post!

[odenvs3000w22]

Thanks for the reply!

I think you ask some interesting questions about how exactly we incorporate native plants in our current environments. Replacing all agricultural crops is obviously a no-go, since we rely on many, many non-native food crops to feed people. However, it is also pretty undeniable that our modern food systems are extremely hard on the earth. I highly recommend Michael Pollan’s book The Botany of Desire, specifically his chapter on potatoes, for how well it illustrates just how many chemicals go into the potato growing process. This is the part that is the scariest for me:

“I asked Forsyth [an potato farmer in Idaho] to walk me through a season’s regimen, the state of the art in the control of a potato field. Typically it begins early in the spring with a soil fumigant; to control nematodes and certain diseases in the soil, potato farmers douse their fields before planting with a chemical toxic enough to kill every trace of microbial life in the soil.” (p. 218)

He goes on to detail the rest of the chemical regiment, the result of which is that no life except the potato plant can possibly survive in this farmers field. But Pollan contrasts this traditional farmer with one using organic and homesteading techniques, which involve growing many types of potatoes, so that no pest or disease can wipe out a whole crop at once - which also means much less pesticide and herbicide is needed. In addition to a diversity of plants, organic farmers often plant companion plants either inter-planted with, or nearby, their crops. These are plants that attract beneficial insects, and even ward off non-beneficial pests - and they can be made up of native plants!

So finally, back to native plants. There is space in modern agriculture for squeezing native plants back into farmer’s fields, but we have to use less intensive agricultural methods to do it (which I promise doesn’t mean we have to run out of food, but that’s a whole other topic!). And as you mentioned we could also use more native plants as food crops - for example we can rely on native hazelnuts for protein, and eat less meat, which requires growing less non-native animal feed, etc. But again, this only works if we use agricultural methods that don’t require us to eradicate every other life form in the field. It’s a tough nut to crack, but we can get there if we prioritize biodiversity and healthy landscapes over the status quo!

[bbenvs3000w22]

My role as an environmental interpreter

As an environmental interpreter, my ideal role would be to somehow integrate my passions and interests in the environment and to communicate the benefits of it to others. I think the overall goal of interpreters is to demonstrate the importance of these landscapes but also illustrate to the listeners what nature can also provide to them. Humans are a selfish species, and some may think that “if this does not affect me, then why should I care?” The problem we have to solve as interpreters is to show that it can impact them.

Yet communicating this can be hard, and the delivery should be emotional to connect with the audience but still somehow be informative. Relatability is a huge factor, if someone cannot relate to you or the topic they might become less interested. In addition, another element that we must acknowledge is how people learn, for example, you and I might not learn the same way.

After taking a quiz I learned I am 45% an auditory learner, which means I learn and remember the best from listening and hearing things. This has actually changed from before where I learned the best from being fully integrated into learning materials, a kinesthetic learner.

Therefore, since my own learning style has evolved, I will try to take all different types of learners into consideration while interpreting and presenting to others.

When thinking about how can I make this experience meaningful, or even who am I as an environmental interpreter, I get a little stuck. I think the beginning stages of nature interpretation can stem from just sharing your knowledge on smaller things and build from there.  For example, over this pandemic, I have become increasingly interested in plants. Two summers ago I planted more native plants in my garden to help restore the nature that would be found in my area. After which, this summer I planted more native species at my grandma’s house and communicated to her the importance of them and how they can also help the native pollinators in the area.

Perhaps this summer I can expand my interpretation skills with the job I hope to get. I hope to work for the Canadian Food Inspection Agency in the branch of Plant Health and Protection sector. If I get it, I will be collecting and preparing plant and insect samples, and visually assessing plants for signs of pests and diseases. With this role and the knowledge I will gain on particular pests, I can communicate this with community members by sharing tips online about identification and proper handling. Aaron Fairweather states how he uses social media platforms like Instagram to communicate science. Social media is a way we can share information to others in a more equitable way. Since some folks may not have the privilege or funds to travel to places, for instance, to Europe to learn about its natural history, social media and technology like our cell phones can bridge that gap. There are actually 5.3 billion cell phone users, and 10.4 billion mobile phones. The future of nature interpretation must continue to evolve and in order to keep community members engaged and technology might have the capacity to do so.

As such, where might my nature interpretation take place? Various locations! Accessible to anyone with an internet connection!

Digital around the world - datareportal – global digital insights. DataReportal. (n.d.). Retrieved January 21, 2022, from https://datareportal.com/global-digital-overview

[odenvs3000w22]

Hi Brooke,

I really like your non-traditional application of nature interpretation and the things that you can do with it! As a former food service worker, I think connecting food inspection to nature is a great idea, since our food systems are inextricably linked to ecology (e.g. through the positive benefits that pollinators can have on our food production, or the negative effects that industrial food production processes can have on the environment). And I think you’re totally right about the role of social media and phones on the future of interpretation - we need to find ways to work with and through this technology. Modern technology is so often portrayed as disconnecting us from nature, but as you point out, the potential for the opposite effect is also there. Interpreters of the future need to plan for a world where everyone constantly has a phone in hand - and that doesn’t have to be a bad thing! My favourite example is iNaturalist, a plant and animal ID app that has made me feel a lot more connected to nature by helping me learn the names of the organisms I see around me.

I’m also a native gardener (and I work for a landscaper who specializes in native plants), so I’d love to hear what you’ve been planting! I currently have Asclepias tuberosa (Butterfly Weed), Zizia aurea (Golden Alexanders), Penstemon hirsutus (Hairy Beardtongue), Monarda fistulosa (Wild Bergamot) and Echinacea purpurae cold-stratifying in seed trays outside. What are you hoping to plant this year?

[odenvs3000w22]

Blog 2: My Ideal Role

My goal as a natural interpreter is to work from the small scale to the large scale. My current job could be interpreted as interpretation, as I work as a general labourer and gardener for Ecoman, a landscaping company that works exclusively with native plants. The company’s owner, Jonas Spring, is a biodiversity enthusiast whose central philosophy is that of ecological reference, ie creating landscapes within the city that take reference from corresponding natural spaces. For example, a condo balcony could be planted with species that thrive on cliffs. A shady suburban yard can be filled with woodland understory plants. A garden planted in a former parking lot is filled with plants that can thrive in hot, direct sun.

This garden was one of my first big jobs with Ecoman. I like to think that we tore up a parking lot to build paradise (which I hope would make Joni Mitchell happy!), or more specifically, a garden in front of the Native Child and Family Services centre in Scarborough.

Stewardship of the natural heritage of our ecoregion is necessary a part of this work. Through the plants we chose to work with, as well as the design choices we make, we are constantly communicating to the clients—and to any one else who might admire our work—about the importance of supporting native species, about biodiversity, and about respecting natural heritage. To me this fits in with the definition of interpretation as a tool which “takes people from passive appreciation to exciting understanding of the cultural and natural environments they experience.” (Beck, Cable & Knudson, 2018, p. 13).

In the future I could very well see myself continuing this work on a larger scale. Native gardening has become an exciting frontier thanks to the efforts of scholars like Douglas Tallamy, who points out that most land in North America is privately owned. If this land were to all be landscaped with native plants, it would vastly outnumber the size of any national park, and be a powerful force in supporting the genetic pools of native plants, as well as the insects, birds, and mammals that feed on them (Tallamy, 2007). To pursue this work I would want to continue my education as a budding ecologist, in order to better understand the interrelations between native organisms and native gardening, and how best the latter can be utilized in order to support biodiversity. I would also want to be skilled at then communicating that knowledge and experience to the general public—and of course clients. Native gardening can be a useful tool in extending habitat and creating continuous area of greenspace; however, it is only effective if the organisms who inhabit these spaces can get from one to the next. Therefore learning how to effectively engage the largest group of people I possibly can in getting excited about native gardening is my primary goal in my development as a natural interpreter.

References Beck, L., Cable, T.T., Knudson, D.M. (2018) Interpreting Cultural and Natural Heritage For a Better World. Sagamore-Venture Publishing.

Tallamy, D. W. (2007) Bringing Nature Home: How you can sustain wildlife with native plants. Timber Press.

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By discovering nature - you discover yourself ~ Blog 1

Downtown Guelph: Took this picture on a trip that i took with my friends exploring graffiti

My relationship with nature has undoubtedly evolved as I grew up and learned to appreciate what it has to offer. At times we have a dynamic relationship with nature: hiking on a trail, smelling flowers, touching the earth vs on other occasions, we may take a more passive stance: looking closely at shades of green on a tree, its branches, or listening to the waves crashing on the beach. I remember myself on a swing looking up at the sky and wondering how the clouds could possibly move across the sky. The human-nature relationship has been increasingly drawing an understanding between the two and its impact on people’s mental and physical health. I am sure others can agree that the COVID-19 pandemic has brought unprecedented changes to the human lifestyle worldwide. This includes considerable disruptions to social interactions, where these social restrictions can be associated with higher rates of adverse mental health outcomes such as anxiety and depression. The importance of spending time on and engaging with natural environments such as parks and woodlands for psychological and physical health has been well documented. While my relation has not been consistent, increasing awareness of the outdoors has played a fascinating role in strengthening my inner world, providing peace, comfort and serenity.   Just a little before the pandemic, I got hired at Walmart and spent the summer working in the Garden Centre. To be honest with you, I was not looking forward to working around plants, dirt, bees, and just out in hot weather. No matter how much I appreciate the beauty of nature and how calming it can be to be outdoors in the fresh air. I have always been terrified of creepy crawlies that roam around plants and soil. I was always afraid to touch them or even help my parents garden in our backyard and was more of the person to observe from a distance. Fun fact: the first time I got stung by a bee was while delivering a Walmart online grocery order in the parking lot, and despite this new phobia, I got transferred to the Garden Centre. Yet working in the Garden Centre turned out to be such a beautiful experience where you take care of plants, water them every morning and afternoon and see them grow day by day. So, after all, this seasonal job just wasn’t about helping customers find plants and plant-related products but constantly seeing and being around plants decreased my anxiety and created such a soothing environment. I almost started believing that if you talk to plants, they listen and even grow better! This was something that I always saw my mom do, and I would say that you give them more attention than me (jk). Another memorable part of work was when a bird decided to build her nest in a hanging flower basket. Everyone at work was so excited to check on this bird every day, and we specifically had a sign there saying this basket was not for sale, so no one went too near or disturbed her.

Here’s a picture of a beautiful flower at my workplace! (Still not the best with recognizing their names)

This reminds me of my first sense of place interaction with nature which was quite similar. In grade 3, I glimpsed this bird, making her nest outside my room window. I used to watch this bird every day after coming from school, and after a few days, I witnessed a special moment of one baby bird hatching out of its egg into a big and beautiful world. My mom would always see how excited this made me and tell me how vital these living creatures are for us and how they adapt to survive in the conditions to live in during different seasons. Whether it’s trees that automatically shed their leaves in the fall or how a flock of birds twist and turn and change direction at a moment’s notice as they fly, and the starlings in a murmuration seem to be connected. My mom always taught me to admire nature and recognize the importance of balancing the natural system. She would take me to conservation parks nearby our house in Brampton that reminds me of Chinguacousy park - my absolute favourite place to visit. This park had had multiple playgrounds, water activities, a petting zoo, a tropical garden to explore and offers outdoor entertainment for all seasons and ages.

Just a little attempt at photography ~ As someone who loves photography and capturing moments, my pull towards nature had always been to take pictures of the view in which I took nature for granted. I can now admit that I can appreciate the beauty without feeling compelled to capture every scene and have determined that the connection with nature is essential to my life. I admire people who spend that time connecting with nature themselves, and it’s these people that can deal with their thoughts and inner voices.

Thank you for reading:)

Farheen 

[odenvs3000w22]

Hi Farheen,

I love your story about learning to love nature at the Walmart Garden Centre! I think it’s a real reminder of two things: a) that human beings really, tangibly benefit from being around green things, and b) that nature can be found anywhere. In other posts from classmates that I’ve read, people describe how calming it can be to be surrounded by tall trees, to be in the centre of the forest. I think your story illustrates that we can find that sense of calm in unexpected places, as long as we commit to stewarding and supporting green life. I work as a landscaper, so I also get to be around plants all day as part of my work, and I think it has improved my life immensely!

I also really appreciate your experiences with you mom, and how she would point out the beauty of the more mundane kinds of nature that we can see everyday, as long as we look closely enough. My parents did something similar with us; they gardened with us when we were young, and introduced us to earthworms, and taught us about how they benefit the soil. I think that for kids, learning to love and appreciate the life that is around them on an everyday basis is key to their future engagement in nature. Its all well and good to learn about exotic zoo animals that only live free in faraway places - its different when you see a bird in your own yard, and know its name, and know what it eats and where it lives, etc. I hope in my own nature interpretation journey I can do for others what your mom and my parents did for us, which is teach people to love the life that surrounds them.