Storytellers stand watch, remind us of errors and omissions, and synthesize this wisdom to shape a cleaner and healthier future.
This is how I begin my workday: I scan the headlines at Environmental Health News (EHN).
It’s my homepage, my home base, my lifeline and an essential way I stay connected in the hurry-up-and-wait-world of environmental health policy and change-making.
In addition to reading environmental news from around the world, I also can get up-to-speed on emerging science that trained EHN fellows translate for those of us who still break a sweat when too many numbers follow decimal points. Or when acronyms and chemical names—like 2,2′,3,3′,4,4′,5,5′,6,6′-Decabromodiphenyl ether(BDE-209) (see what I mean?)—out number familiar words. They parse science into language that this sleep-deprived mother, only three sips into a blessed cup of coffee can read.
While scanning EHN, I remember why I’ve plunked myself into the middle of this maelstrom of politics, policy and pollution. Why being in the midst of all these issues is among the most important places a sociologist and mother could be. Because when everything else falls away, is there anything more essential than just access to clean air and water, arable soil and healthy food? Is there anything more important than preserving them?
Dr. Theo Colborn reminds us that only 3 or 4 generations have been born into this way of life. The fossil-fuel based systems that power society and our economy took root in the early decades of last century, with an exponential uptick in pollution after World War II. Much of what concerns me has taken place within the timeframe of my father’s life. To me, this signals that our current arrangements aren’t inevitable.
As my colleagues at the Science and Environmental Health Network have taught me, this news calls us to be storytellers. Sentinels. Guardians.
We need storytellers to help us remember our errors and omissions. Sentinels to stand watch and to warn. And guardians to synthesize this wisdom, to pass it forward, and to speak on behalf of future generations who have the right to inherit clean air and water, arable soil and healthy food, too.
When I teach my seminar on environmental health, justice and communities at Tufts University outside Boston, I also ask my students to keep an eye on the headlines EHN delivers through its daily digest.
Around midterm, after reading weeks of grim headlines, I find their spirits begin to wane. So, we pause. And in that pause, I offer up two ideas—well-informed futility and intelligent optimism. I invite them to explore the difference.
Well-informed futility, as my colleague and mentor, Dr. Sandra Steingraber, writes in Raising Elijah, is when we retreat from what we know. It is the state of paralysis that can follow from a “steady onslaught of information about a problem over which people feel little sense of personal agency,” especially, as in the case of climate change, where the proposed solutions (personal and incremental) seem out-of-sync with the perceived scale of the problem (global and dire).
Then, I present Ode’s annual celebration of intelligent optimists. We talk about how others are responding to the headlines about our health and the environment. We try to define what intelligent optimism means.
Back in 2005, Ode’s Editor-in-Chief, Jurriaan Kamp, wrote: “Intelligent optimists don’t allow themselves to get carried away by circumstances they can’t change, but focus on things that are within their grasp and that they can enjoy.” Intelligent optimists allow themselves the full expression of the dark and difficult emotions that inevitably arise. But, intelligent optimists, while seeing the complexity of a problem, find solace in the knowledge that complex problems, by virtue of their size and systemic origins, offer up a myriad of opportunities to apply their talents and creativity, to elicit their best selves, and reap deep satisfaction in the pursuit of fresh solutions.
I ask my students, as I continually ask myself, as I now ask you: Amidst dire news, what is the difference between well-informed futility and intelligent optimism? What tips the balance from informed futility toward intelligent optimism for you?
By Rebecca Altman
Thank you for inviting me into your life. I welcome you into mine, and look forward to gathering with you here, in this blog, where I ask, “How do we live with what we know?” This, perhaps, is the question of our time. My writing explores how we take in, live with, and act on the groundswell of sobering information about what we humans are doing to our environment—and to ourselves. As mother and environmental sociologist, I examine change-making in the middle ground—between individuals and national political structures—in communities, families, and culture.
Photo by Carolynn Primeau via Flickr
Rebecca,
If you haven’t yet, do click the link and watch this fascinating interview:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W8r0yVxanX0
Published on Nov 10, 2011 by UCtelevision
Atlantic Editor James Bennet interviews Dr. Deepak Chopra and physicist Leonard Mlodinow on their upcoming book about spirituality and science as part of The Atlantic Meets The Pacific, hosted by The Atlantic and UC San Diego. Series: “The Atlantic Meets The Pacific” [11/2011] [Public Affairs] [Science] [Show ID: 22484]
Best wishes,
Jonathan Sion
Here’s my story…
Child: Papa.
Father: Yes, darling.
Child: Tell me a story, please.
Father: Sure, which one.
Child: The story about the time Earth very nearly lost her people.
Father: Okay, I’ll tell you that one. That’s a good one.
A long time ago, the Earth was filled with people, from north to south and east to west. They had different religions or none at all. They looked alike or not at all. Mostly, they got along and lived with love. However, some of the people were afraid and that was the problem.
Child: Afraid of what, Papa?
Father: Afraid of other people and of not having enough. Afraid of change. Afraid to lose.
The people who were afraid of others stuck their fingers in their ears and hummed to themselves so they couldn’t hear other people talking to them.
The people who were afraid of not having enough took more than they needed. They took more trees than they needed. They took more fish than they needed. They took more land than they needed. They also took things from deep in the Earth, things that should have stayed in the Earth.
Child: What did they take from deep inside the Earth, Papa?
Father: They took many things but the big problem was the fossil fuels. Today we make our energy from sun, wind, and water. Back in the old days people took coal, oil, and gas from inside the Earth. They burned those things to make other things move, to build things, and to power things.
What happens when your burn something, darling?
Child: Things get hot.
Father: Right. Burning those things that came from deep inside the Earth made the world hotter. It wasn’t noticeable at first, the Earth is so big and the people weren’t burning much. But over time, they burned more and the Earth got hotter.
The scientists noticed and shared their alarm with the leaders and the people. A hot Earth would mean trouble.
Now, remember those people with their fingers in their ears? The people who hoarded because they were afraid. The people who took more than they needed.
Child: Yes, Papa.
Father: It was so hard for those people to listen to the scientists. Their arms were wrapped tightly around their stuff. Their fingers were in their ears. They were humming loudly, too loudly sometimes even for other people to hear the scientists or listen to ideas about how to change.
Unfortunately, people burned fossil fuels more furiously. The Earth changed. Trees caught fire and whole forests burned. Rivers dried up. Valleys and lowlands flooded. The sea water rose. Whole continents changed, many islands vanished, and fresh water turned salty. As the oceans warmed, fish died. As the air warmed, plants died. Without plants to eat, many animals and people died. It was a scary time, especially for those willing to look the problem straight in the face.
Finally, the day came when those who hoarded and hummed with their fingers in their ears let down their guard and realized an ancient truth, one shared by all of the religions and those with none.
Do you know what that truth is, darling?
Child: We are connected.
Father: That’s right. We are all connected. People, animals, Earth, trees, water, rain, oceans.
Child: Papa.
Father: Yes, sweetheart.
Child: The people who took more fish and trees they needed. What did they finally do?
Father: They worked with the others. Within 20 years they changed all of the energy from combustible to renewable.
Twenty years is a long time. In twenty years, I hope to have grandchildren. In twenty years you may be a papa yourself. It was hard to stay focused for 20 years. Different leaders came and went. But the people knew what they wanted and the leaders lead.
Your great-grandmother(father) was one of the people who spoke to the leaders. She(he) knew what she(he) wanted and she(he) let them know. She(he) was kind, respectful, and persuasive. She(he) was loud when she(he) needed to be and persistent. She(he) had all of the qualities that Mama and I want you to have, that’s why we gave her(his) name to you.
Child: I know Papa. I wish I could have met her(him).
Father: It will take a long time for the Earth to heal from the damage done by too much dirty energy. You and I will be long gone and many generations will pass before things really feel safe again. But, by making the switch from dirty to clean, we’ve given Earth a chance to keep her people.
It’s time for bed, my little rock.
Child: Goodnight Papa.
Father: Goodnight (insert your name here, for the father is your grandson and the child is your great grandchild and all is well.)
Thank you, Jonathan, for the suggestion. I’m loading the video you recommended now. Warm best, Rebecca
Dear Elli,
Thank you for post. I love that this tale is set in the future, looking back on today. You create a critical sense of history and legacy as flowing from the current moment, the current set of decisions we face as a society.
I’m wondering: What is the story behind this story? When and what prompted you to write it? I always love the backstory.
Also, I often find myself wondering: what are the outlets for sharing new stories such as these, particularly those geared toward younger generations?
You have tapped into another passion of mine, which is thinking about the body of stories and parables we tell children. Several of my colleagues in sociology have begun a fascinating research project looking at all the children’s literature out there with nature and environmental themes. Their goal: to catalog the sub-themes and messages transmitted to children. I always thought it would be fascinating to sit down with their findings, when they are done with their analysis, and figure out whether and what alternate stories children might benefit from having access to as well.
I had intended a post on that at some point. If you have any other ideas or suggestions on the topic, by all means, I’d welcome hearing them.
Thank you again.
Rebecca
Rebecca and friends, there is an Environmental Storytelling Discussion Group sponsored by the National Storytelling Network. We present workshops at NSN annual conferences and at regional gatherings, and contribute articles to NSN publications. We have a rubric, “Aware->Care->Dare.” Rebecca’s term “informed futility” aptly describes what can happen when we tell solely stories of environmental dangers: we’ve informed our listeners and made them care, but if they can’t see how to take action the result may be “fingers in the ears” and “humming” to avoid hearing more bad news. To move them to the “Dare” step, we need to tell stories of brave individuals & groups who have made a positive difference. Rebecca’s “intelligent optimism” is indeed the goal! One of our listserv’s members sent us this site’s URL. I hope other members will visit.
Hi,
Thanks for pioneering work. I’d love to consult with you about my own project called Green Stories to the Rescue, an experiment in empowering people into creative action through the use of improvised personal storytelling on behalf of environmental issues. This is my third year since becomming inspired. Mutual support in community is the key.
Fran, Jana:
It’s funny, I wrote the piece, with the idea of storytelling buried in the middle. The editor at OdeWire, the smart Emily A., brought that piece front and center. I’m so glad she did, because had she not, the piece might not have drawn the attention of your colleagues at NSN. And, my, am I glad it did. I would like to learn more about the group, perhaps even learn from you and your colleagues. Sounds like important and fascinating work.
Sounds, too, like commenter, Jana Smith, might feel the same way, given her project, Green Stories to the Rescue! By all means, feel free to share more if/when the spirit moves you. Let’s stay connected around these themes.
Thanks for posting about your work
Hi again,
There’s too much to say,but marketing the concept has been a major focus. Perhaps this needs to shift for awhile while I put concepts into words. Community development work takes so much time and energy. I have an 8-minute DVD I’ve used to spread the word. If you’d like, send me an address and I’ll mail one to you. My e-mail is janasmith517@aol.com, if you prefer. I find, alas, that my spirit is always way ahead of my ability.
Jana