Start of Something New At the End of Nature

So far I am still rushing through to get the paperwork filled out for my internship and waiting for my mentor to email back. All this rushing back and forth has literally been making nervous to graduate, is this what adult-ing is like? Have I come to age at the end of nature? The more I think about it, the more it makes sense to me. In the eyes of my family, I came to age at fifteen, a quinceanera; in the eyes of science, I came to age once puberty hit; in the eyes of nature, I’m not sure, especially during the end of it. From the sections read of the book, coming of age means coming to understand our place and relationship with nature/environment, even if it feels like we’re at the end of it. If that’s the case, then I’m still working on coming to age at the end of nature, but I’m on my way there with this internship.

At the Court Community Schools and Foster Care - Humboldt County Office of Ed. they  want someone to develop program/materials or research on students in Court & Community Schools programs that typically focus on immediate self/survival issues and perspectives; some of these students struggle in traditional classrooms and temporarily need a supportive, alternative educational program in order to progress academically and socially. Most of these classrooms focus on trauma-informed learning, focusing on how to communicate amongst these students. Trauma-informed learning is one of the only teaching methods available to these students, some of which only have one last opportunity before going to juvie. Some of these students are coming to age at the end of the nature in the way they know it, and the way they see nature is what I want to know. I just want to find a way to show them that their environment shouldn’t stop them from doing great things.

Jr.High Sex Ed.

Is coming to age at the end of nature like Jr.High sex education? Ya know, with the awkward moments of half truths about changes going on within us and outside of us, getting a grade and credits for being there? (Much like folks claiming to have marched on Washington back in the 1960's?). What does it mean to come of age in the end of nature? Is this a millennial moment? What does it mean to be good for Nature? Loss of innocence?

As adrienne maree brown (emphasis on her non-capitalizing initials, much like bell hooks) says, there are conversations going on only for the people in the room, but unlike sex ed., this conversation is seemingly for all if the room is Earth. The stories written about in the book Coming of Age at the End of Nature are all about climate change, human's 'development', and the natural environment in which these folks grew up in. Their idea of nature seems to be changing, or they're challenging this concept, both, somewhere in between, and all across the spectrum.

"What even is nature?"
Often said jokingly from the ENST discourse on deconstructing loaded key terms.





I imagine nature as the water streaming out of our faucets (they don't materialize upon command, although that would be awesome), the tree's climbed upon towering over moonstone beach, the hedges guarding thy holy high founders hall, or the beer homebody drinks.
I don't believe this end of nature, or coming to age, is so black and white. What really is, aside from divide and conquer tactics from Empire. I don't, and some what do, feel a loss of innocence from this coming of age.

I see innocence as the veil of a mushroom dissolving as puhpowee (Kimmerer)--the fleshy fungi sprouting from composting organic matter, shucking their baby skin away as they grow, compost, and turn into compost. This viel for privileged folks is "being sheltered from [Empire's] most extreme forms of violence and degradation, and to be enrolled in a stultifying form of life that re-creates this violence" (Montgomery and bergman 51-52). Releasing this viel, as I can only speak for myself, eyesight hones in on what bears privileges, revealing the complex relationships constituting this 'innocence'. Losing innocence is comparable to some groups coming to age, because we gain something, while also losing something--an exchange of energy, knowledge, wisdom.

The end of nature is similar to loss
because the ideology of nature can be broken down asking, whose nature is coming to an end? Is it the nostalgic nature Edward Abbey writes of?; where it's unattainable for all those who don’t have the physical ability, financial means, or be in the “right place at the right time” before tourism (while violent forced relocation of indigenous peoples are ongoing)? Much like Lauren McCrady, I believe in "an understanding and an ethic of nature that both values preservation for future generations, while also acknowledging the inevitability of change" (109 End of Nature). I hear bell hooks echo in my mind about objects, people whose identity and reality are defined for them by subjects, people with power defining others realities and identities. I believe by leaving the European defined outdated version of nature we are able to redefine this idea which affects our physical reality, our identity, place, relations, and purpose.




This isn’t to say climate change isn’t happening, and that environments aren’t changing, but if we keep comparing something static, the idea of pure pristine nature, to a fluid actuality of change, then we’re always in the wrong. 

Moving past this will keep us growing, fighting, and changing.




What each of us 'millennials' experience differs, not from the blurry generational age definition, but because of our positionalities--background, upbringing, ethnicity, religion, class, geographic location--. This conversation on climate change, power dynamics shifting, and the future belongs to all of us because this metaphorical room is the Earth. This conversation seems like it won't be as shitty as the boy sees bus and gets boner; sex = pregnancy + STD's; watch a baby get born; look at packets of paper that will be tossed into the garbage right after class kind of conversation from Jr.High sex ed....although there is still the figuring this out. Much like an angsty teen groping in the dark trying to figure themselves out in the mi(d)st of change, without any real direction. We’re bumping into shit, but at least we’re learning and working towards a collective goal of not trying to die.

Coming of Age at the End of Nature, offers a collaboration of stories from authors not much older than our cohort, detailing their experiences “coming of age at the end of nature.” What does it mean to come of age at the end of nature? This question caused me to reflect on my own experience growing up with a certain social construction of nature and the different experience of someone half my age in the same situation. I can’t be completely sure what is the world changing and what is my own understanding developing, but the nature I experienced growing up is different from the nature my parents experienced and will differ from what youth after me will experience. The world that was presented to me with distant risk and fear narratives surrounding discussions on species extinction and habitat destruction seems to me to be at a peak. I can always remember being told certain species would disappear in my lifetime and seeing it happening so rapidly is hard to wrap my mind around. The rhetoric is now or never with certain conservation efforts. We are in the midst of the sixth great extinction event, cities around the world are running out of water, and the global political economic climate is slowly but surely ticking closer to midnight on the Doomsday clock (Bulletin of Atomic Scientists). How these narratives of the disintegrating ecosystem persist will affect future approaches to environmentalism and nature. We discussed in class the idea that the present may be a pivotal moment in history and I want to believe that is true. Listening to progressive parents offering their children agency, critical thought, and an accurate, equitable approach to knowledge gives me hope that this “end to nature” will give rise to a new beginning as well.

Thoughts on coming of age at the end of nature

When I first saw the book list for our capstone class, one title jumped out at me: 
“Coming of Age at the End of Nature, a Generation Faces Living on a Changed Planet.” 
Before the book was even in my hands, I already had my environmental studies thinking 
cap on. I wondered: Nature is such a loaded word, what does the author really mean by 
“Nature”? And how can an entire generation’s conceptions and reconciliations regarding 
Nature be summarized in one book? Can something so vague really be ending? 
Furthermore, in our class discussion on thursday, someone insightfully pointed out the 
declension narrative working discretely but deliberately behind the scenes of this loaded 
yet vague title. 
I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect based on the title, but I was pleased to learn 
that the book encompasses a multitude of contributors who use a variety of angles to 
approach the topic. A similar trend emerged as we discussed this book in class. 
Specifically, we talked about how we connected with selected authors and how we perceive 
coming of age at the end of nature, and everyone approached these questions in a variety 
of ways. In both the book and our class, there are many beautiful positionalities and 
epistemologies surrounding these questions.
So, what does “coming of age at the end of nature” mean to me? If we are talking 
about socially constructed Nature, then it “ended” for me in the spring of 2016 (when I 
took ENST 295, a course within our major focused on power and privilege). Until then, I 
must admit that visions of untouched Nature and Wilderness had effectively romanticized 
me. In the spring of 2016, I was presented with materials that showed me how these visions 
are linked to oppression and perpetuate exclusion. The realization of the “end of nature” in 
this sense is irrefutably beneficial, but it definitely rocked my world. Many years prior to my 
personal paradigm shift, I fell deeply in love with the “backcountry.” Though it may have been 
easier to quit going out there all together, I was determined to continue. So, I accepted that 
my new knowledge was going to change the way I experienced my summer backpacking 
trips and I kept planning them. I decided that my experiences from that point on would be 
opportunities for coming up with something more meaningful than what is offered to us 
through dominant culture. I have spent many hours since then in the Trinity Alps perched 
on granite boulders, lying in meadows, and staring up at the stars in the night sky trying to 
re-articulate my new definition. But for reasons I don’t yet understand, the task hasn’t 
been as easy as I had originally thought that it would be. 
Because of this, I really connected with a piece titled My Present Is Not Your 
Tombstone, by Lauren McCrady. I relate to her desire to find her own “vibrant, contemporary 
form of wilderness to love” (McCrady 109). It is clear that she has invested an extensive 
amount of critical energy into her pursuit of a new definition, but hasn’t quite been able to 
articulate it either. Nevertheless, she is determined to ask questions without despair: 

“What is gained and lost by valorizing wilderness? How do markers such as class, race, gender, age, ability and other factors dictate who is privileged enough to appreciate and enjoy the supposed benefits of a communion of nature? How can I form an idea of wilderness that is inclusive of a wide array of people with conflicting backgrounds and experiences and understandings of nature and the physical environment? How can I balance my concern for these issues with my growing sense of urgency and fear regarding the global environmental crisis? I don’t know the answers to these questions, but I’m tucking them in my CamelBak and carrying them with me out into the desert, to scatter among the cacti and juniper, where I pray they’ll be picked up and carried far and wide by the lizards and ravens… if you need me I’ll be out scouring the desert, searching for answers” (109-110).

Thus far I have addressed the “the end of nature.” I still have not completely determined 
what “coming of age” means to me, but I do associate it with shedding my innocent 
regard for the world. If that is what it means then I do not want to claim that I have “come 
of age” quite yet. But I will say that learning about the constructedness of Nature in the 
spring of 2016 was a pivotal moment that completely changed the way I understand the 
world, and there is something to be said for that transition. Perhaps I will feel that I have 
“come of age” once I determine a new definition.

nostalgia turns to ashes (through a new light)

"Dharma in a Hammock" Photo taken by Aaron Ozuna

The Tree of Life was a moment in time where my friends and I would take a simple hike in a local park located in Ventura, CA and always end up in the presence of an extraordinary tree. I'm not sure if that was an official name the community of Ventura referred to it as, but that is how we identified it amongst ourselves. This, to me, was nature amidst my "coming of age high school years." ...(Rough times, adolescent uncertainty)... While people defaced the tree by painting on it and writing things like, "Love the earth" on its branches, I still saw this tree to be nature among a suburban town. This is the sense of nature that people like Oscar Wilde and John Muir talk about (Not sure how I feel about their views of nature, but you feel me right?). The branches of this lively tree would make for a great seat for all of us to fit. As shown within the picture captioned, "Dharma in a Hammock," everyone found their place on the tree, not just in terms of placing our butts on something, but rather an entity that is among us, listening and growing with those who inhibit its space. If I were a child exploring the branches of the tree, I would acknowledge its "climb-ability" and strength. Coming of age, though, I saw this tree as something that should persist among generations (who knows how old it was to begin with) because of the intricate beauty and wonder this piece of nature showed humans. Early December, Ventura caught on flames. Houses in the hills were burning, families were rushing to safety, and the air was suffocated by a smoky haze. The Tree of Life was located within Arroyo Verde Park where huge fires sparked due to the dry vegetation. Due to the intensity of the flames and the lack of resistance this tree had to fire, the tree was burned to ashes. All of these memories planted by the tree are left within physical and mental pictures. When I think of coming of age at the end of nature, I think back to tree that gave life to us in many ways. Nostalgia turns to ashes, is this the end of the nature I knew?

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

This week, we read some various chapters within "Coming of Age At the End Of Nature" (edited by Julie Dunlap and Susan A. Cohen) Dunlap and Cohen's combination of short stories written by numerous peoples is extremely refreshing. I say this because non-fiction short stories are just simply fun to read. Particular to this given book, ideas floating around "coming of age" and "the end of nature" are all interpreted differently among personal, intricate stories. One specifically reminds me of The Tree of Life, which was called, "An Orange County Almanac: Adventures in Suburban Ecology," by Jason M. Brown. The Orange County he knew when he was growing up is changing and as he is coming to age, he is noticing that the Eucalyptus trees he once knew are fading away. Through a deconstruction on the non-native species and an epiphany of the pros and cons of its presence in California, he comes to a realization that we need to restructure our perception of ecological restoration. He states, "...ecology is not a place- it is not a thing we have control over; ecology is the space between things, including us" (Brown, 74) When I think of how we need to bring back the ecology of Arroyo Verde Park post fire, specifically when I think of the beautiful trees that were there, Brown's ambiguous claim on ecology as a space between us intrigues me. It related back to my feelings toward The Tree of Life as an entity around us rather than a tree to sit on. If we seek to restore Arroyo Verde Park to the way it was before, are we creating a dominance over nature? How can we bring back the trees and grassy hills we once knew with giving it time to replenish itself? Do we need to be the holders of future ecological restoration post fire? These are questions I ask myself when thinking back to the nostalgic times the tree gave me. Ashes turn to fertile soil. A new beginning. Maybe among my coming of age as an early adult, I will see a new sense of ecological space between me at Arroyo. 

                   ––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

"Cecilia and the Tree" Photo taken by Dharma Murphy

P.S. I found a video of The Tree of Life on Yelp someone took: 

https://www.yelp.com/biz_photos/arroyo-verde-park-ventura?select_video=yE2MAJutCLrlJUTTVtiO6w&utm_campaign=www_video_share_popup&utm_medium=copy_link&utm_source=(direct)

ALSO: Someone took a picture on yelp of the "Save the Earth" spray paint on the tree: 

https://www.yelp.com/biz_photos/arroyo-verde-park-ventura?select=IpZ0-z-JghbiLBFhYAV4Wg&utm_campaign=www_photo_share_popup&utm_medium=copy_link&utm_source=(direct)

Sources Cited: 

Dunlap, Julie and Cohen, Susan A. Coming of Age at the End of Nature: A Generation Faces Living on a Changed Planet. Chapter Used: "An Orange County Almanac" by Jason M. Brown. Trinity University Press: San Antonio. 2016. 

Is this the end?

The End (Apocalypse Version) - The Doors (Listen to while reading for dramatic effect)

“Do you feel like you’re coming of age at the end of nature? “

Wow! What a question!

I see three parts to deconstruct in answering.

What is the “The End”? Is this the end?

How does one “come of age”?

What even is “Nature”?

“The End”

To start with “the end”, I’m not sure what signifies the end. Is there ever really an end to anything? Isn’t constant change the only constant that ever existed? If so, there is no end because there never was a beginning. All that ever was, is a state of constant transition. Sure, there is an end of nature as we humans in our short lived existence have known it. However, change is part of a greater pattern that has always existed, no surprises there. Our short lived human lives are material manifestations of how nature is born, and nature dies. As with all things, they are born and they die, but from death, life is thus reborn. This is the balance of ying and yang, the ever-changing shifting balance that drives creation and destruction. There is no end, and there is no beginning, just a circle, which is life.

“Coming of Age”

An analogy for a moment of lost innocence where one comes of age is running into a freezing riptide, jumping into a glacial lake, or river. Coming into the moment, there is fear of the cold, the discomfort, and the vulnerability which you are to be exposed to. In the moment, you truly feel cold, uncomfortable, vulnerable, yet completely freed, alive. Post freezing water when you’re running from the riptide, drying in warm sunshine by the lake, or sipping hot chocolate with your warm clothes on, you are victorious because know you have conquered a certain feat. Becoming comfortable being uncomfortable is how one becomes truly comfortable, more resilient, and stronger. Though fearful, discomforting and vulnerable moments, we learn to feel the cycle of loss and rebirth in which we grow and evolve. 

At what moment, did you as a human come of age? If you’re like me, you cannot pinpoint a moment where you were a child, lost all innocence, and then awoke into an anointment of “of age”. Coming of age is not just one riptide, nor is it just one glacial bath, it is many. Coming of age is a series of events, not one moment of instant rebirth. It means to find one’s place within a situation, and to shift perspective, which all comes from a certain loss of a certain type of innocence. Through these events, we loose and change, while we grow one’s epistemology. To shape and increase preciseness of one’s epistemology through experiences, is how one comes of age.

What is “nature”?

“Nature” in and of itself is a human created construction which creates a hierarchy within the world for what is considered beautiful and natural. Ironically, within the nature hierarchy, humans are often seen at the lowest part of the triangle, sometimes even separate from what we may call nature. This view is opposite of a biological standpoint where humans are the “highly evolved” species and highly regarded within the hierarchy. So what is nature, and where do humans lie on the “nature spectrum” if you will? Understanding humans as separate from nature and or top of the nature hierarchy seems both optimistically speciest and rather narcissistic. What makes us humans who live and decompose any less or any more “nature” than rotting fruit, rabbits or mountain ranges?  As Ron Finley said in his lecture at HSU last week, “If you’re trying to connect to nature, go look in a goddamn mirror. You are part of that magic”. Finley explained magic as an interconnected process which scientists could not explain or know everything about. He explained the compost process in his garden as magic, then proclaimed that “compost makes my tits hard” because what we are told is trash, is truly a necessary and beneficial part of growth. Compost may look like trash, humans may act like trash, but both are part of the balance of the world which we humans have constructed into understanding as nature.

If humans are separate from nature then what are we? Aliens? Gods and goddesses? Or should I say Goddex?  “Without nature there are no humans, without humans there is no nature” which means humans cannot exist except as part of an evolving transition the world has undergone to create us( pg 89. Joyful Militancy). The world and its entirety may exist without humans, but nature is merely a word humans have constructed in order to categorize the world. Therefore, nature does not exist without humans.

Into the “End of Nature”

So to answer the question of am I coming of age at the end of nature? No, because nature is not ending, and it does not come as a surprise that the world is changing, for it always has been. Sometimes the world feels like The Apocalypse of The End in The Doors video posted previously, but that is just my short lived world as I have known it. To be heartbroken in the face of change is silly because a lifetime of any length has shown change as the only constant. To be saddened by loss is also silly because the larger the loss, the larger the growth in the aftermath. Sure, what our future holds may be terrifying because of the unknown circumstances our world will evolve to, but it will also be beautiful. Why beautiful? The world has undergone ice ages, and the world has undergone desertification in different eras. These changes have led to the end of the world as life knew it then, but has evolved into the beautiful world as we know it now. Our short time here, evolving into the Anthropocene has been full of wonder and beauty, so I do no doubt the same for the future, as we dive deep into the Anthropocene and whatever post Anthropocene may hold.

Growing Pains

There is a commonality in the titles of the books we just read. Each juxtaposes a progressive narrative with a declensionist one. Coming of age but at the end of nature, and Building a thriving resistance but in toxic times. In their similarities, I find a truth. Perhaps our generation is coming of age, figuring out what it is meant to do, as it takes the main stage. The current generation takes the helm at an interesting time when we are more aware of anthropocentric consequences than any other generation. In other words, we are about to inherit a planet that is deemed to be in "toxic time" / "at the end of nature".  I find it problematic to call our current affairs the end of nature. I do not believe nature is ending nor do I believe it can end fully, but the definition of nature can be challenged and changed. It has been many times, as each generation has had to face their own end of nature, or end of the world, or just life as they knew it.
The reality is, each generation has had to face drastic change whether it be for better or worse and now it is our turn. The difference here, though, is that we are facing the state of the world as a product of all past actions. Thusly, I would go as far as to call it humanity's coming of age. The upcoming generation claims ultimate responsibility for the accumulation of poor decisions. In the wise words of Kurt Vonnegut "so it goes". I do not mean to come off complacent I simply mean this is how it is. So as the current generation rises up they face a type of Indra's Net of issues. Each issue is connected and reflects any changes made in another. I find myself pondering how to take action to set off a positive chain of events and avoid a negative one. Joyful militancy offers words of wisdom and hope. I summarize it with a succinct quote from Rebecca Solnit, "for joy to flourish, it needs sharp edges".

It is no secret the world is facing incredible upheaval, but when the growing pains of this generation subside I have hope that good will come of the struggle.

My Coming of Age at the End of Nature

The essays in Coming of Age at the End of Nature were brilliant. Young writers from the millennial age group, share their stories about growing up in a constantly changing environment where we are faced with transforming landscapes and the impact that is having on our Planet. We are living in the time of climate change influenced by our societies and global civilization. Coming of age at the “end of nature” to me means figuring out who we are in relation to our environment. It is discovering our place on the Planet, and where we belong.

The reason for so many of these complex environmental issues is the human-nature divide. The nature/culture dichotomy has separated people from nature. Coming of age in this time means discovering that we are not separate from nature. It is re-discovering that we are nature. Our actions have impact across ecosystems and the entire planet. In college, I am redefining my definition of nature from what I once viewed as this pristine, untouched by humans “wilderness” (which is a social construction, and feeds into the dichotomy) to including people and culture into the landscape which takes many forms. In a way, it’s a loss of innocence. The romantic notion of nature we once had has been debunked. Our generation is faced with all the problems in the world that we are learning about in our Environmental Studies courses. This knowledge and awakening is essential if we are to repair the damage to our Earth and our lives.

After reading the stories of many individuals in Coming of Age at the End of Nature, I’ve begun to reflect about experiences growing up with my environment. Growing up in Miami Beach, there was flooding after any thunderstorm or intense rainy day. Flooded streets were nothing surprising. I remember walking in parts of the streets, depending on the elevation, through knee-high water. I didn’t understand what was happening when I was younger. I assumed it was normal, because we live on an island below sea level. I saw people bringing out their kayaks on those days and kayaking through the streets because it was so flooded. I didn’t think it was a problem, it would drain away in a couple hours anyway. It wasn’t until I learned about climate change through Al Gore’s famous documentary film and in my environmental science class in high school where I was suddenly brought to reality about what we were experiencing in Miami Beach. Sea level rise caused by anthropogenic climate change. About every climate change documentary I’ve seen since references Miami Beach when explaining the impacts. When I see the streets of my home on the screen of documentary on Netflix, it hits me all over again that in the future, my beloved city will be under the sea.

The city of Miami Beach embarked on an over $100 million dollar project to install storm-water pumps and raise the streets as a flood prevention project to curtail the rising sea levels impact on our island. I’ve witnessed all the construction every time I go home for breaks from college. The construction is complete, but there is still flooding. Mayor Levine always states this flood prevention project will buy our city 50 years at best, before the flooding gets real bad and the island goes underwater. He says that proudly, but it’s short-term thinking. The most boggling part is not everyone is concerned! People are continuing their day to day life not facing the urgency of this issue. It makes me feel useless because climate change is not an issue we can solve overnight. I think of all the islands and coastal cities and towns in the world...what are we going to do? Abandon our homes and move inland (what about the folks who cannot afford to do that?). This is happening slowly over time, and because of that slow violence, people aren’t alarmed. In Florida, a policy passed banning officials from using the terms “climate change” and “global warming”, in a place most affected by this problem they are censoring climate change.