A blog about environment, culture and rhetoric begun in Fall 2010 by the University of New Mexico's Environmental Rhetoric Graduate Seminar.
Monday, December 20, 2010
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Food & oil - sustainable combo?
http://www.cnn.com/2010/OPINION/12/19/dawson.cheap.food.danger/index.html?hpt=C2
Religious leaders' position on climate change
http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-scotland-11857143
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
So cool what you can do with data.... and a little imagination
Saturday, December 11, 2010
"Military-Industrial Complex"
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Reflections on Freidman, Coffey, & Suzuki
Friedman, Coffey, & Suzuki (and other authors we have read) believe that the technology is already there but there are various forces working against its implementation: economic, political, social. Coffey, as a scientist, did not promote a specific solution. Freidman advocates drastic changes in our economic structure; Suzuki insists that we must have the leadership (ie; the president) instigate and implement these changes.
Friedman’s quote of Henry Ford - “if I had asked people what they wanted, they would have said a faster horse” – impresses the necessity of thinking out of the box, striking off in a completely new direction. All sources seem to agree, however, that there is not yet the political, economic, or social will on the part of enough people (a critical mass needed) to make a significant change and improve our chances of survival as a species.
It appears that we are doomed as long as special interests and corporations (concerned only with profit, as they are designed to be) control our decision-making bodies. The perilous combination of greed and hubris is dooming our planet, our survival.
All the reading we have done this semester has solidified my impression that without a sea change, a groundswell of popular movement, there will be little chance of recovery. We as a culture have become so complacent, so content to maintain the status quo, so devoid of a sense of responsibility to the environment (the ‘land ethic,’ or Suzuki’s sense of the sacredness of our interconnectedness with natural cycles) on an individual basis, that we are incapable of creating a popular movement to alter the course we have set for ourselves. Or are we?
Perhaps we simply lack the agents to convey to the public at large that they might consider forgoing their patriotic duty to shop/consume in favor of displaying the traditional American values of honor, respect, and stewardship for their land, their country, their earth. As Freidman promotes, we CAN still be an example for the rest of the world if we start making a demonstrable and national effort right now. How is it possible to motivate a nation of 350 million to make drastic changes? Perhaps those in the best position to convey the message most effectively to the public are those of us who are trained to analyze audience motives, values, and needs? Maybe rhetors CAN save the world.
:D
Saturday, December 4, 2010
What About Beauty?
I couldn’t help but think about beauty—and the lack of it—and my thoughts led me to the Presa de la Olla. The Presa de la Olla is a gorgeous dam built in the town of Guanajuato, a colonial gem in the highlands of central Mexico, my home for a year.
The dam was built in the 1740s, a time when construction was both functional and beautiful. Today, the reservoir is bordered by a lush green park—a favorite spot for locals and tourists alike. Visitors can participate in a variety of activities there—paddleboating and canoeing; running, walking, and cycling; bird- and wildlife-watching. And every year, hundreds of visitors flock to the dam for the annual Dia de la Apertura de la Presa. A public holiday, the Dia de la Apertura (or “Day of the Opening of the Floodgates”) has its origins in the 18th century, when people gathered to clean the dam. Nowadays, the holiday is purely festive: the park is filled with food stands, a state band plays traditional songs, and people eat, drink, and dance until well past nightfall.
Granted, this is a tradition dating from the 18th century—it seems unlikely that we could expect anything close to this in 21st-century New Mexico. But still, what happened to beauty? And fun? When my group visited Cochiti Dam, the U.S. Army Corps of Engineer official there told us the dam was built for purely functional reasons—that the dam could also be used for recreation was an “afterthought.” Function first, fun much, much later.
And how fun is Cochiti? It’s a blast, as long as you like lying on a bed of gravel on a shadeless concrete beach, burning away under the desert sun. It’s a blast, as long as you own a boat and a truck to tow it with. It’s a blast, as long as you bring all your own food and chairs and tables for that comfy picnic on concrete.
Why is it that the fun in “functional” occurred to them as an afterthought? Humans are animals: we congregate around water. Always have, always will. We like to do things on or near the water: we fish in the water, we ride boats on the water, we swim in the water, we have picnics by the water, we lay in the sun by the water. We are water-seeking, water-loving creatures. Would it be so difficult, so economically unfeasible, to build a few picnic tables and benches? A food stand, maybe? Even a boat rental place? Would it be so outrageous to plan for a little fun?
And would it be so outrageous to plan for a little beauty? Is monochrome gray rock the one and only option? What about those gorgeous earth tones that make New Mexico one of the most beautiful places on the planet? What about beauty? Does it matter anymore?
*
For pictures of the Presa de la Olla and the Dia de la Apertura, see:
http://www.travelbymexico.com/guanajuato/atractivos/index.php?nom=kguaaperturapresa
Re-Creating the Flood
Re-Creating the Flood
Every year the Bosque del Apache National Wildlife Refuge is home to the Festival of the Cranes. This week-long celebration honors the thousands of sandhill cranes that migrate there winter after winter, using it as their fairweather resting grounds.
A crucial spot along a major migratory flyway, the area has provided refuge to tens of thousands of birds—including sandhill cranes, Canada geese, snowgeese, and ducks—for millennia. The mighty Rio Grande flooded the arid plains year after year, creating the perfect marshy haven for these migratory birds.
And then, the river was dammed. The damming of the Rio Grande stopped the natural flooding of the river, altering forever, it seemed, the land these birds depended on for their livelihood. Until, in 1939, as part of President Roosevelt’s efforts to create a national wildlife refuge system, Bosque del Apache was founded. Its purpose: to provide habitat for wildlife.
Many first-time visitors assume that the Bosque del Apache refuge is a completely natural system; in fact, it is a completely man-made construct. Every aspect of the refuge is engineered and managed. Men, not God, control where and when the water flows, when the fields are flooded and drained, even where the birds fly, by controlling the amount and location of crops planted on the refuge.
In a sense, man is playing God: God creates the flood; man destroys the flood; man re-creates the flood. A risky game? Certainly an expensive one: each year millions are spent on re-creating what once was: a fertile floodplain, a warm winter home, a watery heaven/haven on this dry earth.
*
To find out more about the history of the Refuge, watch this short video produced by the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QBVVllM2ofA
Friday, December 3, 2010
Progressive energy use reduction in use now!
http://www.cnn.com/2010/TECH/innovation/12/03/opower.energy/index.html?hpt=C2
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Response to Christine's "Hot, Flat, and Crowded" Question #4
MEMORANDIUM
DATE: Right NOW!
TO: All of the Fashion Forward Men and Women Out There Who Also Happen to Love the Planet
FROM: A Concerned Constituant
SUBJECT: Do you care what you wear?
Question: Where does polyester, acrylic, acetate, nylon, spandex, rayon, and latex all come from?
Answer: OIL! Unless you were interested in self-immolation, wouldn't drive to the gas station and drench yourself. Why then would you cover your head, torso, arms, and legs with a fiber produced from petroleum, an non-renewable resource?
Question: How green are your blue jeans?
Answer: Consider this: About 1,500 gallons of water are required to produce the 1.5 pounds of cotton used to make a single pair of jeans. If you're like most Americans, you have eight pairs of jeans in your closet. That's 12,000 gallons of water if you buy your jeans new. Additionally, the polluting doesn't stop there. http://www.onearth.org/article/how-green-are-your-jeans
Solution #1:
THRIFT!
or "borrow" clothes from your friends!
Solution #2:
Sustainable Fabrics like organically produced cotton, hemp, soy, bamboo, and linen.
or better yet!
Untraditional Fabrics! Lady Gaga is doing it! Why not you? Instead of throwing that plastic bag away, use it as a bathing suit. Collect all of the lint from your dryer to weave into a cozy winter hat and scarf. Why eat your food when you can wear it?
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Response to Christine's Questions
Response: Reading this text was much like a rollercoaster ride with climactic rises, dips, turns, dizzying drops and a deep breath of relief at the end. Following the text a read of the acknowledgements gives a strong indication of the means by which Friedman was able to present so much information in such a compact volume. It seems that this is a book meant to be consumed in small doses, the information reflected upon, before the reader goes back for more.
Until I heard Dr. Coffey, I did not share Friedman's final optimism, with the thinking that, in light of the data presented, the future would probably be very dark, if there would be a future at all. I had gravitated toward the pessimism of Mike Davis (Ecology of Fear), whom Friedman cites, and Alan Weisman (The World Without Us). However, Dr. Coffey, while acknowledging the climatological difficulties we face, presented solid evidence that we have the potential for continuation in a sustainable manner, countering the pessimism in favor of mild optimism.
Question 4: Based on Dr. Coffey's talk and Friedman's scary statistics on global warming . . . I am pretty certain that we are doomed. but, I was given some hope by two things: Dr. Coffey's faith in our ability to "leapfrog" with new technology and cleaner alternatives and the suggestion that scientists and the media have "interfaces" that can mediate information and make for a better informed public. . . . .
Response: A letter to Donella Meadows, whose eulogy is printed at the end of the text (411-412):
Dear Dr. Meadows,
For years I read your columns in Catalyst, alternating between hope and despair at what humans, particularly in the developed portions of the world, had accomplished in despoiling the earth, especially in developing nations and some sections of the US, in the name of progress and economic gain.
In the early 1990s, the monthly published "If the World were 100 People," which put the global village in perspective. You indicated that we all are neighbors and must acknowledge that fact and behave accordingly. The village is comprised of a population where some have much and others virtually nothing. We are diverse, and yet have so much in common. If we are to continue the village, we must take care of each other and make sure all have what we need to survive and thrive, including clean, safe water.
You later updated the message in your "State of the Village Report," expanding the village to 1000 people, showing a declining woodland, growing wasteland, increasing pollution from human actions and the perils of nuclear weaponry and waste. The message took on great urgency, but left room for mitigation, if and only if, we of the village would heed the wisdom of the responsiblity of caring sustainably for each other and for the village.
After depending on your wisdom for the years your column ran, I still mourn your passing.
In pacem,
Linda
Reference:
http://catalystmagazine.net/
http://www.100people.org/
http://www.sustainer.org/
Response to Christine's Question #4
4. I want you to position yourself as an interface delivering a message on an environmental “leapfrog” (real or pretend). Here is the scenario: you are a reporter of some type (newspaper, online blog, weather girl/boy, etc) who has a short amount of time to present the leapfrog and provide just a few interesting facts on it. You need to consider who your audience is, what your ultimate message is, and how to make the biggest impact in this short amount of time.
Make a video, write a new brief, or maybe write up a dialogue. The options are endless.
(Based on the technology mentioned in this article: “Sun and sand breed Sahara solar power” at http://www.newscientist.com/article/dn19785-sun-and-sand-breed-sahara-solar-power.html)
Me: Hello, and welcome back to Cathy’s online radio talk show, purveyor of two-minute technology talks since November 2010! Today we have with us Dr. Hideomi Koinuma of the Sahara Solar Breeder Project, a collaboration between universities in Japan and Algeria. This project aims to build a series of self-perpetuating solar plants in the Sahara Desert, with the hope of building enough solar power stations by 2050 to supply 50 percent of the world’s energy. Dr. Koinuma, will you please tell us more about your project?
Dr. Koinuma: Thank you for inviting me to your show! My group is working on the premise of “breeding” clean energy. Our plan is to build a small number of silicon manufacturing plants along the edge of the Sahara Desert, taking advantage of large amounts of silica in the area. These plants will manufacture solar panels out of sand from the desert. These solar panels will then be set up in solar farms inside the Sahara and used to generate electricity. We’ll then sell the electricity in order to finance the construction of additional silicon manufacturing plants. These plants will produce more solar panels, which will help set up more farms, which will produce more electricity, which will in turn generate more money for more manufacturing plants. The cycle will continue until we have enough manufacturing plants and solar farms in the Sahara to supply, hopefully, up to 50 percent of the world’s energy needs!
Me: That sounds great, Dr. Koinuma! If this idea really takes off, there won’t be any need to build dirty coal-fired plants in Africa—all the continent’s burgeoning energy needs can be met using renewable solar energy, without taking up agricultural land or requiring expensive imported equipment. Let’s hope this enables Africa to “leap-frog” into energy plenitude without requiring destructive mining or polluting power plants in order to get there!
Response to (My) Question #1
For the second time since we have lived in our West Mesa neighborhood, someone has destroyed our block’s transformer box and knocked the electricity off the grid for hours. Last time this happened was during the dog days of summer, which meant no lights, no refrigeration, no television, and no air conditioner. This time we are on the brink of winter, with temperatures in the 20s tonight, and again with no lights, no refrigeration, no television, and no heater. And no internet. And no automatic garage door opener. But I digress.
Basically, my family and I are once again without the conveniences of electricity. And this comes, strangely enough, during a time, mostly in the last week or so, where I have been obsessing over electricity. Reading Friedman and Suzuki started my obsession, and then it was furthered by my FLC (the 101 Freshman Learning Community I teach) schooling me on these bombs that, when detonated, somehow completely disable anything electric within a certain amount of miles of the detonation site. If I had the internet I could google what these bombs are called and the basics on how they work, but, alas, I am powerless…powerless without Google.
Anyways, my electricity fascination deepened in San Angelo over Thanskgiving break while I drank a few Keystones with my father on the back porch of his house. He is a small business owner whose business is, to make a long and complicated story short, to broker electricity deals for West Texas residents and businesses. Texas has what is called the “power to choose” electric providers; so, unlike here where PNM is the end all be all of electric company choices, Texas has many different providers, some legitimate and awesome and others not so much, vying for customers. My father associates himself with a few legitimate and awesome companies and helps them build customer bases. At first I thought of it as something similar to a pyramid scheme, but it turns out it is a brilliant niche in the “Power to Choose” initiative.
So, as we sipped and/or chugged our Keystones, I was telling my father about my Environmental Rhetoric class and he was giving me his opinion on the one area of our work that really caught his attention, electricity, and more specifically, blackouts, brownouts, third world countries, and coal versus wind power. It dawned on me as he spoke that he was the small business owner that is mentioned in the opening blurb of Hot, Flat, and Crowded. He is the “Average Joe” of middle-class America with the potential to make some seriously important moves regarding sustainable sources of power.
But, as it typically goes with beer-fueled conversations with my father, he was on the conservative offense and I was on the liberal defense. So, I left him my (one and only) copy of Hot, Flat, and Crowded with a very clear warning that I was not trying to convert him to the dark side of liberalism, but only trying to give him some access to some other conversations on topics that he was already well versed in.
So, as I lay here tonight, typing by the light of my battery powered laptop, I feel my electricity-obsession coming together in some sort of cosmic joke/inconvenient warning. My food is spoiling, my children are going stir crazy without Black Ops and Netflix, and I am mulling over life without electricity. My thoughts thus far? I prefer central heat and air to bundling up in blankets. I prefer lamplight to candlelight. And I think that the windmills of West Texas are an amazingly beautiful sight with some extraordinary potential, which I think is one thing my father and I can definitely agree on. Also, I am scared to death of that electricity-depleting bomb. That is some scary stuff right there. And one last thought, I really hope my father is reading Hot, Flat, and Crowded and letting Friedman’s ideas percolate, clash with, and meld with his ideas and expertise in electricity.
Monday, November 29, 2010
Response to Christine's Question #2
2. As I read Hot, Flat, and Crowded I feel a sense of data suffocation: there is literally too many facts, authorities, statistics, anecdotes, and connections for me to process. How does this method of data-dumping and information-overload help and or hurt Friedman’s ethos? Provide an example from the book to support your argument.
I think that data-dumping hurts Friedman’s ethos by drowning readers with so many examples that no individual story stands out as an emblem or inspiration. By the end of Hot, Flat, and Crowded I felt like I’d read some convincing anecdotes, but when I stopped to think about them I couldn’t remember any single one of them in detail—they all kind of blurred together in my head. For instance, I think I remember Friedman talking about villagers helping protect a nearby forest with orangutans in it—or was it the imam who did that? No, wait, I think the imam was from a different village that had issues with mining pollution coming downstream. Or maybe it was an imam saving orangutans from mining pollution upstream. Or something like that. All Friedman’s cool little stories merge together into an indeterminate saving-the-world stew by the end of the book. I don’t have a clear image to latch onto to really “crystallize” any of his ideas. I can’t go up to someone and recite a convincing anecdote because I don’t remember any of them clearly. Conversely, in a book like Crossing Open Ground, individual events seemed better-defined. I clearly remember the story about the beached whales and would feel confident recounting it to someone else. That story will stick with me longer than any of Friedman’s examples will, no matter how true or useful they are. Maybe it’s like an art gallery: a story elaborated on and displayed in isolation is like a work of art in a gallery surrounded by white space. The very layout makes you stop and stare at the exhibit and remember it. Conversely, examples dumped in rapid succession are like a hundred finger-paintings plastered on a wall at a school. You know they’re there but you never remember any one in particular, and none of them seems super-important or worth lingering over and reflecting on. They’re just decoration.
The feeling of blurring is particularly bad when Friedman’s data collides with his detailed descriptions of hypothetical situations. Human memory tends to hold on to chunks of information but not include their sources. For instance, I remember that Friedman made some good points about electric companies, but his actual data are blurred together in my mind with his over-long “20 E.C.E.” story. So I remember stuff about car garages that sell cars’ electricity back into the grid as needed—but is that fact, or fiction? Has that technology actually been developed and put into use, or was Friedman extrapolating likely developments in the future? I now feel like I can’t use any of his examples in my own arguments because I can’t always remember if they came from a dataset, an extrapolation, or from pure speculation. I don’t want to accidentally suggest that someone try out a “Green Friends and Family Plan” if it doesn’t actually exist yet! I think this is unfortunate, because I know Friedman did his homework and I’m pretty sure his data is good—but if I can’t remember what that data is, or separate it from speculation, I can’t use it to convince other people, and it loses its persuasive power.
HW response to Christine's Question #3
I have the utmost respect for the individuals and families who take on the task of farming to provide their own, as well as a portion of our nation’s food supply because of the incredible amount of energy, time, and passion such endeavors require. Jack Hedin is a Minnesota farmer who operates a fair-trade, 100-acre organic farm. His Op-ed piece in Sunday’s New York Times resonated with me, not only because the integrity of his beliefs regarding farming, climate, and his own complicity in contributing a large amount of carbon emissions, but simply for his willingness to share his ideas and experiences and address the issue of climate change from his own individual perspective.
In The Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, Dillard asked us to “see”: “The pearl of seeing is, then, the pearl of great price” (Ch 2). Lopez, in Crossing Open Ground, reminded us about awe, mystery, and connection: “By broadening our sense of the intrinsic worth of life and by cultivating respect for other ways of moving towards perfection, we may find a sense of resolution we have been looking for, I think, for centuries” (204). Leopold and Carson asked us to consider ethical responses to our use of the land and of our behavior in natural environments and the creatures in them. Friedman provided detailed analysis and offered multiple potentially workable solutions to environmental problems. Suzuki reminded us that there is a basis and connection to nature that we should not ignore, that science is able to operate in context with human needs and desires to help us better connect, or reconnect, with the intrinsic and extrinsic elements that are the essence of life. Stephen Mather’s energy brought business people and congress members into acceptance and appreciation of natural, sacred spaces that belong to everyone in the country.
A writer or any individual, who from the base of her or his own uniquely qualified perspective makes the effort to add to and broaden the discussion of environmental issues and climate change, does important work. More of this work needs to be done. The positions of environmental writers, the findings of climate scientists and biologists, the experiences of citizens who add their voice to the conversation on environment and climate, as well as those who educate and comment on these issues need to continue to find a way to become a part of mainstream dialogue as long as people continue to believe that these are issues that are important. It is the energy of individuals who are aware of the consequences of their privilege and who respond through writing, speech, or action that will ultimately make the difference. The stories need to keep coming.
Two Rants in Response to Deb's Question Three (long.)
At the end of the article on the coyote killings, “Hunters Flock To Small Town for Fundraising Event,” the Albuquerque Journal reports that, “Mackechnie Chapman said she objects to the idea that the kids involved in hunting are being taught to kill. She said they know the difference between hunting to manage predators and wanton killing.”
If I’d been eating anything while reading that, I would have choked on it. Why? Well, because the entire article has been about sport-killing coyotes in order to sponsor a girls’ athletics program—it hasn’t been about managing the coyote population. The references to the coyotes as nuisances that kill livestock and destroy crops come across more as excuses to kill than as reasons for actually having an organized campaign to control the coyote population, which, in case it didn’t seem obvious to you, a killing contest is not. And, the Albuquerque Journal lets this woman get away with the last word on it—she calls it “managing predators” rather than “wanton killing” and the Journal doesn’t even appear to question this! And the Journal posits the only issue with the killings as the possibility that kids are being taught to kill, but doesn’t even go after the fact that this ISN’T wildlife management by any stretch of the imagination. This is the definition of wanton killing. This is sport killing. And the irony that it’s to support a girls’ sports program isn’t funny. It’s chilling. And for one final point that just really got to me—the Journal doesn’t even question the fact that the girls’ sports program relies on this kind of activity for monetary support. Presumably the boys' athletics are already fully supported without the need for the coyote hunt? Presumably there isn’t any other money in public schools to fund either education on conservation or sports? Apparently not. Ugh. I’m disgusted, not only with the practice, but especially with the Journal’s lame reporting on the issue.
This brings me to what I was thinking about when I was reading Deb’s question (3) and the other two articles posted. Let’s see if I can get all of this out in an order that makes sense.
Suzuki argues we need to change our understanding of, and our relationship to, the earth and ourselves, or else we won’t be able (or willing) to make the changes in our own lives that might lead to real change. Suzuki asks a lot, I think, of those who don’t already feel somewhat convinced that something is wrong with our unrelenting capitalist pursuit of more stuff and more stuff and more stuff.
Friedman makes up the gap, slightly, by making an economic and national security argument for dealing with climate change/global warming on a massive scale. His argument seems less “frou frou” somehow, in spite of the fact that Suzuki makes arguments based in hard science—everything from evolutionary biology to psychology to soil chemistry appears in The Sacred Balance to shore up the argument, after all. But Friedman’s argument appears to be based in the American desire to consume, and while he still advocates consuming less, he doesn’t outright say, hey, you have to change your individual orientation to everything around you in order to do this (even though I think that’s what his argument, taken to its logical conclusion, would entail).
Perhaps Doug Fine is the one who really helps to reach out to that segment of the population that is ALWAYS going to refuse to give up creature comforts, and won’t do anything unless it can be sold as EASY and compatible with consumerism and other bad American habits.
But Suzuki, Friedman, and Fine, as persuasive as I can see that they are to particular populations, don’t do anything to sway the John Boehners and the Darrell Issas of the world, who for some reason have an investment (monetary? moral?) in denying climate change (and, apparently, in actually going after scientists). So, who can reach those people? I think that we need the Pope and Billy Graham to issue a joint statement saying that they believe in climate change before those on the religious right or who use religion to deny the reality of climate science will be swayed in any direction. I don’t know that the rest of the potential rhetors in the world could muster the ethos to convince the non-believers to change the way they see the world and the climate. By the same token, if there is a swell of religious leaders who speak up about climate change and who make it the moral obligation of their congregations to be educated about the issue, then perhaps there could be some change. And if that happened and then Boehner and Issa and all other climate change detractors continue ranting against the scientists, their allegiances may be revealed as something other than a particular (odd) moral persuasion.
This is why I feel a real need to resist any attacks on the teaching of evolution or other “controversial” science in schools. We need to make sure that children are educated and capable of thinking critically not just about science, but also about the rhetoric surrounding the science.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
PseudoBlog Post
from my questions, option #4.
Well, from an environmentalist perspective, the potential that these children have with the knowledge they are poised to gain from becoming inter-connected with the world could mean the difference between that spark of genius and empathy being ignited in the next Edward Abbey or Rachel Carson or that talent remaining latent or, worse, lost.
The children that OLPC serves are children who still depend on the land to nourish them, physically and in some parts of the world, spiritually. In Ferreñafe, Peru the school children are learning about their sacred Pómac Forest from their village elders as well as the World Wide Web. They are given the opportunity to walk the ancient trails and witness the brilliance of their ancestral Sican irrigation system and then go to class the next day and view these same trails and irrigation lines from space using Goggle Maps. Essentially, these children are applying an epistemology of environmental learning not seen in most modern, developed countries; an epistemology that privileges synthesis of old and new, of concrete and abstract, and of a connectedness to the earth that transcends subsistence.
OLPC has a mission: to educate. Go to their website (http://laptop.org/en/) for more info, to make a donation, or to link with your own blog. We need to start thinking environmentally beyond ourselves to those human beings who will have the power to continue spreading our world-health message. This is one initiative with massive potential.
Field Exercise Log #3 - Bernalillo Farmers Market
The Bernalillo market is an entirely temporary space, constructed solely by the cooperation of the participants as they follow market rules and established market practices. The rules are not explicit to customers – market rules are generally only ever looked at by new vendors as they complete an application to be allowed to participate in a market.
The physical space - a parking lot – where the market is held would otherwise be devoid of meaning to a visitor on a day when the market is not being held. Though I believe it is a lot designated specifically for the market, I noticed nothing that would prevent its use as a lot for just about anything. Nothing there, about the lot itself, struck me as being uniquely farmer-y. The people and purpose construct the space, and definition and exercise of that space, on market days. Other than the signs put up for the market itself (when it is being held), there is nothing that would identify the location as an actual destination. Meaning is imparted by the social construction of a “farmers market”. Most farmers markets are like this – they are held in spaces that are usually parking lots, or elementary soccer fields, or even empty lots in towns.
Farmers, I guess, tend to be pretty innovative and use whatever comes along – including whichever parking lot seems to work best for their purpose: to provide fresh produce to the less fortunate who are unable to farm and grow themselves. The customers at the market tend to follow the farmers’ lead by parking in a sensible space off the corner, moving in an orderly fashion up and down the aisles of vendors, bringing small change (farmers rarely have large bills for change) and their own bags when possible. Ethos is created collaboratively. Pathos of the experience is, too, create collaboratively and by consensus at the farmers market – farmers and customers alike are there to share information, meet interesting people, sell (farmers), buy healthy produce (customers), and enjoy the laid-back and forward-thinking atmosphere of the farmers market.
And that construction by the participants created the most welcoming atmosphere (to me) of the places we visited. Of course, a lot of that probably had to do with my own personal sense of comfort from many years participating in markets myself.
The Bern market also had the richest diversity of sounds of all the spaces we visited - heavy traffic on the road, voices bartering prices and exchanging info, the crinkle of plastic and paper bags being opened and filled for customers, visitors' tires crunching on the gravel.