"Bildungsroman" -- Loss of Innocence at the end of "Nature"

There are two life experiences I have had in which come to mind in relation to this question: "Do you feel like you are coming of age at the end of nature?"
1.  Being an employee in/of "Wilderness" areas
Bill Mckibben is known for his activism surrounding the topic of climate change and has shared the sentiment of the "end of nature," where all of nature has been touched by humans in which is a factor that has led to the Anthropocene. Take this as you will, and those words will be received differently by everyone depending on how you define the word "nature." For many years the word "nature" and "wilderness" were synonymous to me. As a seasonal employee for the National Park Service, I have valued the pristine open spaces of national parks for its aesthetic, physical, spiritual, and mental benefits. Along with Lauren McCrady's essay titled, "My Present Is Not Your Tombstone--Love and Loss in Utah's Canyon Country," I have much in common with her complicated relationship with such "wild" places. For the massive rise in park visitation rates where said poncho wearing, nick-knack bearing tourists are loving parks and local communities to death in a "supposed communion" to national parks (Dunlap 105). Where I grimace at those people who lack poetic love for the landscape, and "unscrupulously exploit it for the adrenaline rush and photo opportunities," I cannot help but smile at the idea of these places getting people outdoors, breathing the fresh air, and hopefully creating political activists out of all of them to fight for these public lands to stay public for all to enjoy. Inside this "elitist vein" of environmentalism, the recognition of privilege is a crucial bridge in moving from Bildungsroman (coming of age or loss of innocence) to "moments of transformation," where the biggest step forward is "moving beyond 'right or wrong' into a space of ethical questioning that is always already conflicting yet, while shifting, can also be strong ground on which to build" (Alluri 2017). Because "wild", the way we use it these days, in this language, as a signifier of "the other," is a wholly colonial concept. Like "nature," it is a word for separation, standing between us and our true home. The boundary is imaginary.


2. Habitat restoration of removing "invasive" plants for "natives"
In Jason M. Brown's written piece titled "An Orange County Almanac--Adventures in Suburban Ecology," he argues that the "nonnative species that have naturalized since European colonization of the Americas is an ecological purism" that is drawing harmful artificial lines. Such lines have sketched a dichotomous humans to nature relationship, and between and fear of human immigration in to the U.S. (Dunlap 72).
On the off-season from my work with the NPS my income comes from habitat restoration. I have been doing this work of leading groups of volunteers pulling what we call "invasive" plants from the soil and planting "native" plants from the dunes to the forest for several years now. This work does have its benefits for issues such as native plants providing security in forming sturdy dunes that protects human communities from tsunami surges on the coast, and diminishing forest fuel loads from raging wildfires. However, there is a dire need to check-in with the way restorationists language ("native" and "invasive") can parallel nativist sentiments directed toward human immigrants. Cultures and ecosystems are dynamic and in flux; not fixed or bounded.

Alluri, Hari. “Foreword.” Joyful Militancy Building Thriving Resistance in Toxic Times, by Nick Montgomery and Carla Bergman, A K Pr Distribution, 2017, pp. 2–2. 

Brown, Jason M., and Lauren McCrady. “An Orange County Almanac and My Present Is Not Your Tombstone.” Coming of Age at the End of Nature: a Generation Faces Living on a Changed Planet, by Julie Dunlap and Susan A. Cohen, Trinity University Press, 2016, pp. 65–98.