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A message from Wendy Priesnitz
The Importance of Ecological Literacy In Our Children – January
31, 2011 Louv doesn’t actually claim that “taking kids into Nature will solve all of our problems.” And in this article, which is the basis of my correspondent’s rant, the bit about humans “owning” the Earth is a quote from someone else. Louv’s particular passion has to do with the mental and physical health benefits to children of playing outside. And he rightly realizes that there are tangential benefits: “The outdoor experiences of children are essential for the survival of conservation,” he writes. As I wrote in Natural Life Magazine last year, our lack of connection to the natural world allows us to forget our place in Nature, our dependence on it, and the interdependence of all its parts. The interdependence between natural processes and human ways of living has been called “ecological literacy” by systems theorist Frijtof Capra and environmental educator David Orr. Lacking this ecological literacy, we have created processes and ways of living that are destroying the ecosystem’s ability to support human life. Increasing our ecological literacy is allowing us to create the tools to make the transition to sustainability…providing we also cultivate the will to put the knowledge into practice. I cannot think of a better way to increase ecological literacy is to make
sure our children have the opportunity to avoid Nature-Deficit Disorder.
In my experience, those who do are leading the adults towards solving some big
ecological problems.
Let The (Political) Games End – January 11, 2011 Violence, hate, inequality, and lack of respect plus the need for one’s opinions and ideologies to dominate the public agenda – mixed with a gun loving culture – equals shooting. No surprise there. Still, like millions of others, I’ve been trying to make sense of the shooting of Arizona Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords and some other people gathered together at a shopping mall in the cause of democracy. I’m particularly saddened by the death of nine-year-old Christina Taylor Green. She had just been elected to her school’s student council and a neighbor invited her along to the event to meet the congresswoman and watch democracy in action. Christina won’t be able to pursue her interest in politics. She won’t be able to learn that true leaders – political or otherwise – don’t need violent rhetoric, personal attacks, or guns to lead. In the past few days, much has been written about the escalation of angry rhetoric coming from both sides of the political fence over the past few years, about whether or not aggressive symbolism can lead to actual violence – and if that had anything to do with this situation. The media (or what passes for it, in some cases) is also being blamed. Given the vested interests involved, we may never know the whole story, and conspiracy theorists will have a field day. However, I have no doubt that the way we govern ourselves these days is about money, ideology, and personal self-interest rather than doing what’s best for the Earth and its citizens. The pyramid of domination makes no room for the circle of equality, respect, and love. So, inevitably, opportunism and aggression are the norm. I learned that lesson – like I do most – the hard way. About fifteen years ago, I was recruited to run for the leadership of the Green Party of Canada. I agreed to put my name forward. And I was quickly disillusioned by the politics-as-usual nastiness of the campaign and almost quit before the vote. I experienced the gamesmanship as violent – not of the shooting-with-a-gun, you’re-in-the-crosshairs sort but in a more insidious way. And it was acceptable to – expected by, even – most of the people involved. Many of the men actually relished the games. (Calling it “games” borrows from sports culture, which is also violent. I’m sure that’s one reason more women don’t run for office.) Anyway, I won the leadership, only to resign the next year. In my resignation letter, I bemoaned the fact that even in a supposedly progressive party like the Greens, innovation and change was too often a victim of back room political gamesmanship. I wrote: “I failed to understand how entrenched traditional political ways are within the Party, and how much some people enjoy the game of antagonistic sparring. I failed to account for the deep-seated tensions between regions and between individuals. I forgot that when threatened by change, people often react badly. I underestimated the problem. I also failed to consider the emotional and physical toll that trying to solve it would take.” At one point I had been told that if I wasn’t prepared for the heat I shouldn’t be in the kitchen. So I left the kitchen and the “games” behind. Maybe I should have chosen to withstand the heat; maybe I’m the sort of person our so-called democracy needs more of; maybe I could have shouted more loudly my message of respect and collaboration. Instead, I wrote my book Challenging Assumptions in Education. I remembered that, for most of us, our experience with democracy begins in a very undemocratic school classroom, where competition and aggression are important tools for survival in the face of domination, where self-esteem is routinely demolished, where trust and respect are in short supply. So I left my political “career” in the dust and resumed trying to make change by writing about trust, respect, and cooperation in families and in education. Deconstructing that short experience with politics took me a long time. Likewise, and after they’ve mourned their dead, it will take a long time for Americans to process the ramifications of the Arizona shooting. However, the mourning – and the memory of the young girl who was interested in politics – could be a part of the solution if people care to allow that. Feminist philosopher Judith Butler wrote in her essay “Violence, Mourning, Politics” (Studies in Gender and Sexuality, Volume 4, Number 1, 3 January 2003) that mourning can provide resources for the rethinking of community. She suggested that nonviolence can and should emerge from the practice of mourning. Maybe it is possible for us, the media, and our politicians
to renounce the rancor, inject some civility into the debate, back away from
assigning blame, begin to collaborate instead of compete, and ultimately
renounce violence (in both words and actions) as a tool of leadership. Or maybe
there will just be more “game playing” and shooting.
A Plenitude of Work – January 2, 2011 And the other day, someone commented to me that unjobbing seems to be a self-absorbed luxury. I countered that a variety of motivations are at play, many not about luxury at all. Baby boomers are getting to retirement age and wanting to continue to work as a way of staying “young.” Other people are still jobless due to the recession and are looking for creative ways to pay the rent. Those with jobs find themselves working harder for less buying power. Some people worry that more economic hard times are ahead and want to be prepared by developing greater self-reliance. Still others are just plain burnt out and fed up, wondering if there’s more to life than the nine-to-five grind and are willing to trade some purchasing power and stress for a simpler and healthier lifestyle. And then there are the parents who want to stay at home with their children or elderly parents. Fogler identified the common ground among all these people when he wrote, “What we have going with our jobbing orientation is chronic national busy-ness (alias ‘business’), which has proven itself to be unhealthful for humans and our planetary home. We must look in another direction. We must put less emphasis on jobs and more on cooperation, simplicity, and serving one another. This may very well involve meaningful work, but that’s not the same as jobs.” There are many useless, mindless, nasty, unhealthy, soul- and planet-destroying jobs out there, which need to be eliminated one way or another. Meanwhile, we can follow the Buddhist path that says even the humblest job can have meaning. Vietnamese Zen teacher Thich Nhat Hanh wrote, “To practice Right Livelihood, you have to find a way to earn your living without transgressing your ideals of love and compassion. The way you support yourself can be an expression of your deepest self, or it can be a source of suffering for you and others ... Our vocation can nourish our understanding and compassion, or erode them. We should be awake to the consequences, far and near, of the way we earn our living.” (The Heart of the Buddha’s Teaching, Parallax Press, 1998). In a recent letter to the editor published in The Progressive, author and philosopher Wendell Berry took that a bit farther by addressing the issue of work’s quantity and quality. He said that we need to ask a variety of questions about work before – as do some unjobbers – we suggest people are doing too much of it. Questions like whether or not we chose our work or feel compelled to do it to earn money; about how much of our intelligence, skill and pride is involved in our work; if we respect the result of our work; and what are the ecological and social costs of our work. However, although there is much important work to be done that has positive ecological and social benefits, there is not enough willingness to pay for it. And expressing one’s deepest self or even worrying about the consequences of one’s work is difficult when struggling to pay the rent. That, I guess, is where simplifying comes in, and having some self-sufficiency skills. Rolf and I are fortunate to have found right livelihood, we
can manage to pay our bills, and our work is often our play, even though the
hours are long. That, I think, is the essence of unjobbing, no matter what the
original motivation.
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