Last week I spent some time on the bridge considering, among other things, the way our campus community interacts with the nature within its borders. In keeping with that spirit, I took a look at the river-related Collegian article mentioned in the syllabus, curious about our campus’s relationship with the James and how it may have changed (the article was written in 2010).
From the outset, the writer identifies herself as inexperienced and largely disinterested in the natural world, setting herself distinctly outside the group of people who take an active interest in the river. She admires “the science people, the hippies, the environmental people and the progressives” who explore and, particularly, help clean up the James, but has never found herself drawn to active involvement with it herself: “Sorry you’re sick, James, but let’s face it – I’ve got things to do.” She recounts a recent (and rare) trip to the river, in which she tripped on a rock and cut up the bottoms of her feet. It turned out fine, but with all the warnings she received from friends about the bacteria, rusty blades, and human remains that were likely festering in those cuts, it was the first time she felt directly affected by the pollution in the James.
Reading the article was, in many ways, a disappointing experience. It’s always disheartening to hear the outdoors positioned as an inaccessible mystery, and to see people who are clearly somewhat informed about the ways our environment is “sick” still choosing not to do much about it. She reminded me of a talk I heard recently about Nature Deficit Disorder, which we associate primarily with school-age children—but clearly lack of exposure to nature, and the excessive nervousness and even fear that result, pervade our society much more extensively. The article advises readers to wear shoes to wade in the James and a “body-encapsulating water-proof suit” to swim in it, and in so many words it encourages us not to bother interacting with the river at all.
Had the article’s author actually consulted the information her well-intentioned hippy science friends had been offering her, she would have found what we did last week: except for a few days out of the year and after big storms, the river is perfectly safe for swimming. “I was cut and internally polluted by the James River, and now I know how it feels when we do it to it,” she writes. “Not fun – so, a resounding ‘right on!’ from me to all of those active members of groups and projects that help the river. Maybe you can help it be a bit less vengeful. I’ve already paid my dues, though, and now I also have injured feet, so I unfortunately will resume my position along the sidelines.” I understand that an afternoon hopping rocks in the sun isn’t everyone’s idea of fun, but one thing the river does not deserve is to be characterized as vengeful, as something to be avoided except by a small group of enthusiasts with dreadlocks and nothing better to do. I think it’s important for Earth Lodge to keep this in mind as we become a kind of liason between our campus and the James—to appreciate, understand, and help protect the river ourselves isn’t quite enough. With good information and planning, getting involved outdoors in some capacity can be enjoyable and valuable even for students like this writer. I think Earth Lodge has a critical role to play in demystifying the natural world for our community as a whole and encouraging our peers to develop a healthy relationship with their habitat.
Here’s a link to the article: http://thecollegianur.com/2010/09/02/the-james-river-beware-of-what-lies-beneath/12778/