Harlem Uncut and Partially Unscripted

by Jessica Sellin

This past Thursday, November 11, the Center for 21^st Century Studies hosted Paula Massood, Leonard and Claire Tow Professor of Film Studies at Brooklyn College, and Professor of Film Studies at The Graduate Center, the City University of New York (a condensed version of her extensive and impressive résumé).  She is the author of Black City Cinema: Visualizing African American Urban Experiences in Film (2003) and editor of The Spike Lee Reader: An Anthology (2008). Her current project, and on which her presentation was based, is “Living in the City: Harlem’s Representational Turn Towards Marketable Shock.” (Massood made sure to note that this is a working title, still under construction.)

First, I must start by saying that this was by far my favorite presentation of the year, and not just because of the posh setting in the Golda Meir Library’s conference center, or the smell of hot cider ruminating through the room.  I have to admit that when I first saw Massood, a petite Caucasian woman, approach the podium, I wondered what her take on the subject matter would bring.  Needless to say, she took little time to define a clear stance and delved right into the material.  She began her chronicling of a 1930s – 1960s Harlem through a genre known as the “photo-text” in which printed photographs were accompanied by text that provided an overview into the harsh living conditions of “America’s black capital” (a term coined by 1940s author Michael Carter).  As has become the case with art in general, still pictures soon became inadequate in expressing the suffering of the masses, and artists like Sidney Meyers (still photographer) and Shirley Clarke (dancer/choreographer) turned to film.

In a time where we find movies like The Blair Witch Project (I regret having to reference this, but it serves my point well) and The Hurt Locker to be avant-garde in their “cinema as reportage style,” many neglect to realize that this style of film is actually the re-emergence of a form established by cinematic greats such as the Lumière Brothers.  In keeping with this style of “cinema as reportage,” Sydney Meyer’s The Quiet One  (1948) follows the life of a young African American youth through his tumultuous home life, detention at a school for boys, and subsequent treatment for psychological trauma.  The film, a combination of fiction and documentary, is filled with real content, but is voiced over by an actor playing young Donald’s middle-aged, white psychiatrist from the Wiltwyck School for Boys (the irony of which is certainly not lost on Massood herself).  Similar in style, Shirley Clarke’s The Cool World  (1963) follows a young African American youth as he struggles with familial and economic problems, finding that the only way out of his situation is violence.  Because the film contains both actors and non-actors (real people), an immediacy created by the use of handheld cameras, and on-site shooting, it drew attention at the time because it did not follow conventional Hollywood films.

Join the Center Friday, December 10^th for the final presentation of the fall 2010 semester, with speaker Arthur Kleinman, M.D. (Anthropology at Harvard University), who will be discussing his forthcoming book, “Deep China: Remaking the Moral Person in China Today.”

A lesson to travel writers everywhere

by Anna Lemberger

The Center’s lecture series brought out the crowds again with its second speaker of the semester, Arun Saldanha, a professor of geography from the University of Minnesota. His lecture, “A Tear in the Fabric of Time: the Immediate Impact of Jan Huygen van Linschoten’s Itinerario,” and research were pretty much out of my comfort zone, but the audience seemed to respond quite favorably, so it must be interesting work. Saldanha’s current research focuses on, basically, a travel guide, the Itinerario, from 1596 and its impact on the Dutch traders, voyagers, etc. and the people they encountered, especially in India—definitely a far cry from his previous research on the 80s rave scene in Goa, India. He is looking at  how this book jump-started Dutch colonization and global travel. Interestingly, all of his work seems like it would be better absorbed when under the influence of some sort of hallucinogen, or so I’ve been told. I guess if it’s good enough for Freud. . . .

Since I wasn’t stoned, I am not even going to try to explain Saldanha’s thesis or summarize his lecture. So, if you would like more accurate information, please click here. I did, however, find his research process extremely interesting and learned a lot about different ways to incorporate and approach information. At first the lecture felt like a history lesson, but once he started describing the “timespace continuum” it became more scientific and theoretical. (I also kept thinking about Star Trek . . . not sure what that means.) It was interesting to consider the present in a different way, as a moment that remembers and contracts the entire universe’s past. We can never really say what the present is because it is always defined in relationship with the past. Saldanha went on to describe the tear in the fabric of time through several confusing diagrams. I started having nightmares about my geometry classes which probably relates to my breakdown in understanding. Of course, I should not expect to grasp something in an hour that Einstein and others spent their lives theorizing and studying.

Dr. Grusin asked me before the lecture if we could try tweeting during future lectures. This intrigued me so I tried to think of what I would have tweeted during Saldanha’s talk. Not as easy as I expected. I also learned that I’m perpetually sarcastic and tangential and that this might not be the best assignment for me. Here were some of my hypothetical bird chirps:

*Wow, I’ve really had a poor history education. Who knew the Dutch were so adventurous!

*I agree, our classification of developing countries is totally biased and based on one perspective about how the world works.

*The Dutch were really not fond of the Portuguese and Spaniards. They used the Itinerario to avoid them at all costs. I wonder what Rick Steves would say about that.

*Pre-1600 maps were much more useful. They actually warned you where all of the sea monsters and cannibals were! I’m surprised anyone leaves the house anymore without that kind of guidance.

*What a mixed audience! Very multidisciplinary. Too bad I’m the wrong discipline for this mind trip.

*Lesson of the day: Be careful what information you spread. It might speed up time!

As always, thanks for reading. Until next time . . . stay golden.

Geography: Modern Cannibalism

by Jessica Sellin

On Friday, October 5^th, the Center for 21^st Century Studies welcomed Arun Saldanha, professor of Geography from the University of Minnesota, who presented his current research project, “A Tear in the Fabric of Time: the Immediate Impact of Jan Huygen van Linschoten’s Itinerario.”  To open his talk, Saldanha provided background on the space-time continuum and Einstein’s theory of relativity, primarily to emphasize his own notion that one cannot think about history (time) without geography (space). While I admit that Saldanha’s discussion of relativity in relation to his work put me in a mild state of panic–I am far from a physics major–his at times light-hearted presentation of the subject matter gave me hope that I could at least slightly comprehend what he was about to delve into.  I myself have always been somewhat inquisitive as to what the study of geography really entails, beyond the notion that green equals land, blue equals water. 

For me, one of Saldanha’s more understated comments resonated most with the content of his lecture: “Geography cannibalizes all other disciplines.” The Itinerario was used by the Dutch to find safe passage to the East Indies in the late 16^th century and the early 17^th centuries.  Although Linschoten’s motives for creating his maps and listings of various spices was not intentionally patriotic–he was born in the Dutch city of Haarlem–his groundbreaking information allowed the Dutch to compete with the Portuguese, who, at the time, had a monopoly on the East Indian spice trade.  So here is where the notion of geography as a “cannibal” of other disciplines comes into play: while the Itinerario was a key navigational and geographical reference for merchants venturing to the East Indies, it also had immediate and future influences on medicine, philosophy, and anthropology (and you may as well throw capitalism in there, too).  The appeal of Linschoten’s work can be found in its ability encompass so many fields at one time, including medicinal and domestic uses for spices, locations of food and water along the route, the current currency exchange rates, and the locations of Spanish and Portuguese strongholds so the Dutch could avoid those areas.  Perhaps one of the more unforeseen immediate effects of Linschoten’s work (also keeping in mind that he had no intention of such effects when initially creating the work for personal satisfaction) was the “explosion” of technological and capitalistic initiatives.

Not unlike the economical and technological eruption the United States witnessed during the California Gold Rush, the Dutch exploration into the East Indies was driven largely by independent merchant groups, and not any government initiatives.  Merchants required new machinery and technologies to make the journey, and their purchase of such items, along with the Itinerario itself, spurred on a capitalist economy through the eventual creation of conglomerate companies, such as the infamous East India Company.  While we have been taught most of our educational careers that historical events, no matter how many disciplines they affect, take place on a singular historical timeline (and this is where Einstein’s relativity theory comes into play, so bear with me here), Saldanha, however, argues for a “tear,” if you will, in this timeline, in which multiple timelines can lead to one event, and that said event does not belong to any one individual or culture, and the “tear” being reinforced by the fact that Linschoten did not intend for his work to bring about a claim of ownership on behalf of the Netherlands. (And now, in hopes of avoiding any further confusion or psychedelic flashbacks, we will now cease with the relativity talk.)

“This changes everything. Again.”

by Anna Lemberger

On October 21, the Center’s first international guest speaker of the year, Dr. Jussi Parikka of Anglia Ruskin University, Cambridge, UK, presented his research to a full house in Curtin 368. I had no idea of what to expect from a lecture entitled “Media Archaeology as Zombie Media Research,” but overall found the talk extremely interesting. Although I may have benefited from having a dictionary on hand and a list of names with the German people he continually referenced, I actually understood and made connections with a lot of his points.

The first concept I had to deconstruct was “media.” Clearly it plays an important role, being twice mentioned in the lecture title, but my JMC idea of media does not seem to fit Parikka’s model. It seems media as it functions in his research is more of a medium, a tactile object of transmission or of a digital culture in general. He began by discussing waste in the U.S. and the idea of obsolescence. Some bigger and better technology is just around the corner; by next week my innovative new smart phone will be a really awesome paperweight. An iPhone 4 ad provided a humorous example, the tagline being “This changes everything. Again.” According to Parikka, our society is centered on trashing the old and obsolete, of constantly buying new and not reusing. It seems this notion has grown out of a historical move to tax objects past their use. While this never materialized, it left a legacy of expiration dates and artificially decreasing the lifespan of products so consumers are forced to buy new products more often. Here is where Parikka introduced the object as a “black box.” Objects are no longer designed to be fixed—you cannot just replace a battery in an mp3 player. It also seems like a shift in the consumer mindset, to trash and buy new. I mean, do people actually go to get their shoes resoled anymore? For consumers and non-experts, an object, like a printer, is a black box; things go in and things come out but what happens in between is a mystery. To Parikka, however, media is never really dead despite our tendency to consider it trash.

Another aspect of this research is the potential for artistic methods. Parikka introduced the ideas of circuit bending, hardware hacking and the DIY movement among other artistic tendencies related to his research. One example he used was a project that rewired found objects, like children’s electronic toys, into musical instruments.

In the end, this research, for Parikka, is a way to understand eco disaster. How has our media culture produced a toxic environment?  An important and timely topic in my opinion.  Although not everything he discussed was clear to me, it did present an opportunity for self-reflection of my own consumer mentality and habits. Several of the post-talk questions were very interesting as well: do our mounds of trash have the potential for meaning just as the pyramids did for the Egyptians?  Are the suggestions of reuse economical and practical?

Hopefully, Dr. Parikka’s first visit to the U.S. was fruitful for him as well as the audience. I certainly would be interested in learning more. But enough with the work, Professor Parikka! Make sure to experience some real Wisconsin culture while you’re here. I’d recommend the deep fried cheese curds and a local brew.

Embodied Placemaking in Urban Public Spaces: Part One

by Jessica Sellin

This past Friday, October 8^th, saw the first installment of the Center for 21^st Century Studies’ two part symposium, under the theme of “Embodied Placemaking in Urban Public Spaces.”  I myself was fortunate enough to sit in on presentations by James Rojas (Urban Planning and Art, Latino Urban Form) and Karen E. Till (Urban Affairs, Virginia Tech).

I think I can safely say that any Architecture or Urban Planning majors that attended James Rojas’ lecture–“Interactive Planning: Engaging the Public in Placemaking”–left the event feeling energized and hopeful about the future of planning for urban spaces.  Based out of LA, Rojas’ eccentric approach to urban planning reflects a laid back and interactive quality that Rojas himself is trying to spread across the country.  Leaving behind the grids and maps indiscernible by anyone not trained in the field, Rojas emphasizes tactile experiences and creative thinking by essentially emptying his office junk drawer in front of participants, and asking them to create a model of their ideal city.  In his attempt to break the bureaucratic nature of urban planning, Rojas takes his tactile experience on the road to visit universities, low income areas, UN forums, and engages everyone from elementary schoolers to senior citizens.  Not only does Rojas directly invite civic participation through his workshops, but he also seems to target groups of citizens that are often neglected in the planning of a community, giving them an active voice in how they experience their surroundings.  Being the jetsetter that he is, Rojas mentioned that he would be heading back to LA to work on his CicLA Via (quite a clever title, if I do say so myself) project, in which he is working with bicyclists of California to create their ideal bicycle trail system.  Just as Rojas made an effort to give a voice to those previously silenced, Karen E. Till did just that in her discussion of her ventures ranging from South Africa to Columbia.

In her presentation, “Witnessing and Performing Place: Memory Traces of Displacement in Wounded Cities,” Till began by talking about her research on Prestwich Place, in Cape Town, South Africa.  In 2003, construction activities related to the area’s continuing gentrification–Prestwich Place has the highest real estate prices in Cape Town–led to the discovery of a vast, early colonial burial ground for over 300 slaves. Till’s consideration of Cape Town’s thoughtless excavation of these burial grounds segued into her main focus on displaced communities in Columbia, specifically the urban renewal in central Bogota that resulted in a vast green space known as the Third Millenium Park.  The U.S. itself is not new to the disparaging conflict between “going green,” and ever expanding urban sprawl; however, the forced displacement of communities in Columbia for such green initiatives and urbanization creates an intense gap between history and culture, and government initiatives for the future.  As seen in James Rojas’ own artistic approach, Till mentions that artistic interventions on behalf of displaced communities, such as performances by Mapa Teatro,  have helped to give voices to the silenced, allowing them to reshape their past in the present.  I found her mention of Brad Pitt’s own filmic endeavors relating to injustice to be intriguing, namely by the fact that popular media, and good intentioned, yet naïve, individuals such as Pitt seek to rectify an injustice, but in the process only end up telling a partial story and leave having created more problems than resolutions.  However, perhaps  Till’s current project, “Wounded Cities: Witness, Trace, Silence,” which will take her to Berlin, Cape Town, Minneapolis, Buenos Aires, Hiroshima, and Jerusalem, will help give a thoughtful and well-rounded account of memory and space.

Other presenters for the day included Swati Chattopadhyay (Architecture, UC Santa Barbara), Joseph Sciorra (John D. Calandra Italian American Institute, Queens College), and Jennifer Cousineau (Parks Canada).  Charlotte Fonrobert (Religious Studies, Stanford University) unfortunately could not make the symposium; her paper was read by Lisa Silverman, one of the symposium organizers, and Jennifer Cousineau. Be sure to keep an eye out for the second installment of the symposium, taking place on April 29^th, 2011.

Building Place

by Anna Lemberger

In anticipation of the Center’s October 8 symposium, Embodied Placemaking in Urban Public Spaces (Part I), the School of Architecture and Urban Planning hosted an interesting and dynamic discussion on the idea of place. The roundtable (well, it was more of an oval), entitled “Power, Locale, and Embodied Placemaking: A Pre-symposium Roundtable Examining the Role of Place and Placemakers in Civil Society,” took place Thursday afternoon, October 7, and brought together graduate students, PhD students, UWM faculty and professors from other universities and fields of study around the country. It was an honor being in the room with such an amazing mix of people.

The graduate students of the Buildings-Landscapes-Cultures program in the Architecture department began by presenting their projects.  Before the presentation I had a chance to talk to two students who gave me their perspective on the afternoon’s topic. For them, social justice plays a major role in their work. Some questions they posed: How as an architect do we fulfill, consider, incorporate, and approach the idea of social justice? How can we be more forward thinking?  As a connection to the Center, what is the architect’s role in the 21^st Century, a century of changing concepts of time and mobility, among other things? They both explained how buildings are more than aesthetics and tangible benefits—they’re about society and how people interact with the buildings beyond the physical. I could definitely sense the excitement and passion behind their work.

The grad teams discussed place and placemaking as it relates to their project of reinventing a post-Katrina New Orleans ward. Besides the above questions, many of the groups looked at the way technology and online communication have changed the way we think about place and time. As an information science major I felt right at home. Another group talked about recapturing the essence of a place often lost in the image (like feeling the sun on your skin vs. a picture of it). Walter Benjamin anyone?

Several of the visiting professors and the PhD student followed with insightful feedback. Karen Till (Virginia Tech) began with some pretty critical but important thoughts. She asked the teams to consider their privilege when it comes to computer and internet access and to take a more “humble” approach in their planning. Till, although critical, took the time to break it down and explain the reasoning behind her suggestions. As a student, it was hard seeing their work ripped apart, but Till along with the other visitors made some great points and hopefully provided the teams with constructive ideas.  Luckily their seminar instructor did give some positive feedback by assuring them that their “naïve” approaches do have value. I agree that you do sometimes have to get it wrong to get it right. The students do anticipate having to rework their projects after actually visiting New Orleans.

Joseph Sciorra (Queen’s College), James Rojas (Latino Urban Forum), Larry Witzling, Sukarni Gray and Monique Hassman (from what I could gather from name signs) also added their experience to the discussion. Listening to the feedback was awesome and I really learned a lot about the level of work that goes on in post-grad programs and the intellectual rewards of inter-departmental collaboration. It was also fascinating to hear the different kinds of thinking and approaches being done at other universities. I am excited that others will get to hear many of these same people present on October 8.

Please feel free to comment . . . cyberspace can get lonely (which was briefly mentioned in the talk, now that I think about it).

Great Minds Think Alike

By Jessica Sellin

This past Friday,  September 24^th,  new director for the Center for 21^st Century Studies, Professor Richard Grusin, gave an informal talk on the future of 21^st Century Studies, not just in the sense of a department on the UWM campus, but as a field of studies on a national and international scale.  Some of you may have been fortunate enough to take a course in which his earlier book Remediation: Understanding New Media was used, addressing themes of immediacy and hypermediacy.  Certainly our own generation places a greater and greater emphasis on immediacy, as seen in our affinity for virtual realism in the film (who didn’t see Avatar?) and video game industries (Halo anyone?).  His current book, Premediation: Affect and Mediality After 9/11, deals with another familiarity to us all, the implications of the media and social networking in our everyday lives as a focus of connectivity and reassurance.

What was most intriguing about Professor Grusin’s lecture was his call to arms of an almost renaissance-esque revival of the university.  In a world of specialization, we often get lost inside our own little worlds, allowing little room for cross-over and hybridization.  Sure, we have all had our moments of groaning over the GER requirements we faced as freshman (or in later years, for those who postponed the inevitable), and have rolled our eyes as professors insist we will one day see the importance of a “well-rounded education.”  Well, I myself as a senior now see the light, and am encouraged that my two years as a pre-med student will not be wasted on an arts degree.

One of Professor Grusin’s main encouragements came in the form of fostering active research among disciplines, focusing not just on the humanities, arts, and social sciences, but including biological, health, and environmental sciences, as well as business and information sciences.  After all, the “Renaissance man” himself, Leonardo da Vinci, dabbled in art, architecture, geology, aerodynamics, military science, and botany, to name a few.  His artistic skills proved effective for making military blueprints, and his botany and geology knowledge was reflected in his portrayal of nature in his artistic endeavors, so certainly cross-disciplinary research not only fosters new understanding of a new field, but also improves understanding of our own.

We ourselves cannot be prepared to enter a society in which the lines between disciplines are blurred if we are only educated within the rigid boundaries of our own scholarly pursuits.  Let’s face it, the workforce is a scary venture at the present time, regardless of your degree, and as someone soon entering into said uncertainty, I relish the thought of widening my options by widening my education.  Now, Professor  Grusin made clear his point that we need not stop our current studies in their tracks, but rather should take time away from said studies to foster connections to other disciplines and the community.  One way Professor Grusin proposes such connections take place is through the installment of physical locations where such scholarly, interdisciplinary narratives can take place beyond the Center’s home on the ninth floor of Curtin Hall, whether those be locations spread throughout the east side campus (such as in the newly purchased Columbia St. Mary’s building), or more distant locations such as the forthcoming Innovation Park in Wauwatosa–all in an attempt to “de-center the center.”

So, if any of this sounds appealing to you (and I’m betting it does), initiate conversations with fellow peers, professors, or even stop by the Center, and show your support for the cause.

Time and Space: The Final Frontier?

by Jessica Sellin

Greetings, and thank you for taking the time to join me on my first foray into the blogosphere. I am currently a senior Art History and Criticism major, and by no means plan to play favorites when giving you my take on the September 10 “2009-10 Fellows’ Presentations” given by four of last year’s fellows of the Center for 21st Century Studies, under the Center’s biennial theme of “Figuring Place and Time.”

Jennifer Johung’s (Art History) upcoming book, “Replacing Home: From the Primordial Hut to the Digital Network,” looks, through a lens of contemporary art and architecture, at both the dislocation of space and a desire to belong in place. As undergraduates, we are familiar with both extremes: while we ourselves may have once had a solid sense of belonging in place at home, our college years bring about dislocation as we are forced into a state of both physical and intellectual nomadism, forced to live off of what items we can successfully transport in our parents’ minivan, and fit into an eight-by-eight room.

For Johung, Polish artist Krzysztof Wodiczko’s project, Homeless Vehicles, manages to combine nomadic living with social commentary. Wodiczko’s transportable modules provide physical shelter for the homeless at night, but by day they are used as carts to collect cans for recycling. Because these streamlined, portable spaces demand attention, the homeless are no longer rendered invisible; the vehicles enforce a social dwelling for said individuals within the community. On a different note, Rafael Lozano-Hemmer’s Under Scan literalizes the concept of one’s home being a reflection of one’s self, as digital portraits taken via overhead surveillance cameras make up an architectural framework in Britain’s Trafalgar Square (certainly not the first time your face will appear on a surveillance camera in London).

Nan Kim’s (History) “Afterlife of Division: Korea’s Liminal Modernity and the Reunions of Separated Families,” focuses on a series of high profile, televised reunions, starting in 2000, of North and South Korean families long separated by the war. Her project speaks not only to the forced dislocation (as well as denied reunification) of Koreans, but also to the invasion of individuals’ personal spaces by the media. That these reunions were sensationalized, and set up as tabloid and media fodder, may be unethical, but the practice is not by any means off limits in today’s media-driven world. In a society where celebrity funerals are televised live, and commodities such as YouTube allow for the instantaneous and unfiltered upload of even the most private information, we have created a spatial gap between reality and the sensationalized, between morality and entertainment.

The fluctuating temporality and liminality of the Korean War, as cited by Kim, can certainly be applied to many instances throughout history, and even the present, as the effects of war are felt long after the conclusion and in locations across the globe, not just the front line. However, as Kim mentions, these circumstances are escalated by the fact that a permanent peace treaty was never reached between the North and South, so the war has technically never come to a close. The physical and ethical gaps created by war and division, while vast, leave little room for individual and personal narratives to be rectified, perpetuating a seemingly endless temporal state.

Other work more than worthy of taking the time to glance over is Bruce Charlesworth’s (Film) work-in-progress video installation “Retraction,” and Deborah Wilk’s (Art History) “’A Pregnant Text’: History and the Space of Immigration,” which analyzes the art and architecture of New York’s Ellis Island and Castle Gardens during the immigration periods of the late 19^th and early 20^th centuries.

Lift the Curtin and Let the Show Begin…

by Anna Lemberger

The Center—for 21^st Century Studies, that is—started their semester off right last Friday, September 10 with a little wine, cheese and intellectual conversation (you know, life’s essentials) at their open house in what I like to call the “penthouse” of Curtin hall. For all the Curtin haters out there, check out the view from the ninth floor. You’ll be taking back all of those bomb shelter and prison jokes in no time.

Preceding this posh little reception, however, was the afternoon’s main event: presentations from four of last year’s fellows on their work and research.  I often take for granted my exposure to university life and collegiate lingo, thanks in part to my father, a professor at another university. So when I talked to a college friend about the lectures, her only question was, “What’s a fellow?”  With the job market not a great place for anyone right now, especially soon to be grads like me, it’s smart to glean info on other post-undergrad opportunities, like fellowships. These particular fellows are faculty who were granted time off from teaching to focus on their research, which will hopefully put them in a spot to receive that highly sought after tenure. Grad students can also receive paid fellowships, so for all those daunted by the recent status of the job market keep that in mind. Apparently the department does offer one called the Tennessen Graduate Student Research Fellowship.

Students and faculty alike watched as the first fellow, Bruce Charlesworth, made his way to the podium. His work focuses on installation pieces about “anticipation and the passage of time via interactive video.”  Through videos and architectural layouts, Charlesworth exhibited footage of his previous project Love Disorder. Visitors enter the gallery and are faced with a large screen at the other end, on which is the very Wizard of Oz-like face of Charlesworth. (Click here for a visual.)

The face talks, changing its “emotional tone” as people move toward and away from it. His current project, “Retraction,” combines elements of his past two, with a maze of rooms to walk through and interactive video. When visitors traverse his space, they are put on a narrative path, one which is controlled by doors and openings.  However, Charlesworth, in a very Goosebumps kind of way, allows people to choose among multiple paths so they leave with different narratives. His presentation led me to think about the idea of fate vs. free will. Openings vs. doors. An opening is much like a predetermined path while a door provides more of a choice. Should I open it or not? Should I choose this path or another? But as The Wizard himself explained, he is still in control of each choice and narrative prompting me to wonder whether it’s our choices or what we do after we’ve made them that matter.  It is also quite possible that my existential musings have no foundation. It would have been nice to hear more about the reasoning behind this project. Perhaps next time I’ll ask and not leave all the questions to the more seasoned members of the audience.  To learn about the other fellows (Jennifer Johung, Nan Kim, and Deborah Wilk) and their fascinating interests click here.

As a side note…

I am very excited to be chosen as one of the bloggers this semester.  I am by no means an expert, and I hope that through this interactive media we can spark some intellectual dialogue that will make the Center sponsored lectures more fruitful and engaging.  I hope you enjoyed this first post and I look forward to continuing this journey with all the cool people who read this blog.

Our debt to the earth

by Whitney Hoag

During the second day of the DEBT conference, on April 30, the speakers really got down to the point of addressing the complexity of debt in its numerous forms. Comprising a panel of speakers on ecological debt were Gerry Canavan (Duke), Genese Sodikoff (Rutgers), and Julianne Lutz Warren (NYU).  Although all three speakers addressed different areas of ecological debt, the idea that seemed to run through them all is just what can be done to address this debt, and who is this debt even to and how can it even be measured.  When a debt belongs to an entire community or society, who can be held accountable to take the blame or bear the burden of the debt?

Gerry Canavan discussed in a very rational way the role of capitalist society in creating an ecological debt and also our conception of debt. Our general conception of debt is that we owe something to another person.  In our society we seem to have forgotten about our responsibilities to the earth and the land that we occupy, thus forgetting about our indebtedness to it as well.  In taking from the land we create a debt that can never really be repaid.  Also many times, the people suffering from one small part of society’s abuse of the land are the people who didn’t do any of the abuse, namely those in third world and undeveloped countries.

Canavan also addressed the problem of global warming and how, in reality, it isn’t a new phenomenon that we are just learning about.  People of past generations have made observations and predictions about global warming dating back to the late 1800s, but many politicians and scientists would like to say that we only really discovered global warming in the 1980s.  These simple facts brought up the idea of a moral standard for debt, and recognition of our ecological debt as debt.

Genese Sodikoff also discussed the role of morality in understanding debt with her discussion of Lazarus species and extinction in Madagascar.  Her talked discussed a way in which we could ever really measure ecological debt and just who pays the price.  Her discussion of the human impact on the biodiversity of Madagascar as well as human influences due to illegal markets for animals and timber was, honestly, a bit frightening. In the end, the extinct species that once inhabited Madagascar are the ones who are paying the debt by means of their own extinction.

Julianne Lutz Warren offered a broader idea of the role of debt in regards to nature.  Her discussion invoked the idea of debt involving a timeline and that earth, nature, and humans are all interacting and exchanging debt on this timeline.  She sees a need for society to slow down progress, expansion, and just generally life.  Maybe then we can give the earth a break and give it some time to catch up, or at least slow down our destruction of it.

One question arose that was particularly striking to me, and that really there seems to be no answer for until it just may be too late.  Are we too far gone to repay the debt?  Can we ever really give back what was taken?  Maybe we can’t replace what is already gone, but we can try to repair and rebuild it.  Our society’s conscious effort to improve our use of the land might just be our repayment of our ecological debt.