~E.O. Wilson
How we identify ourselves can guide our behavior and our way of thinking. The way I categorize myself may not be the same among my peers, family or friends. Since the end of my undergraduate career I've found myself transitioning into this 'new' identify. I am hesitant to frame myself as someone 'new' as I feel I am actually evolving into the person I desire to be. It is no surprise that this process comes with some turmoil- choices have to be made and oftentimes there are limits in place that prevent the outcomes we would prefer.
Throughout my first year of graduate school I was labeled as an 'environmentalist' simply due to the fact that I was IN an Environmental Studies program. Questions arose for me pertaining to my identity, particularly in regard to my self-acknowledged lack of action and commitment in the realm of activism, environmental awareness and lifestyle.
Why should my view- my identity- be something special and separate from the majority? If what I'm doing, learning and believe in is SO right, then why isn't it the norm? I am, of course, not opposed or ashamed to be labeled as an environmentalist; however, I do not know if I have earned it yet- and why should it be a title that one must earn?
As I return home each month from Athens my family and friends see a change in me- the foods I eat, the documentaries I watch, books I read and concerns I develop. Sometimes it becomes awkward as we realize our priorities no longer sync and the conversations fizzle out... others simply don't understand my point of view which can, disappointingly, cause alarm and concern for my well-being.
On the complete other end of the spectrum, in my classroom I get looks and comments from individuals that don't see me at all as belonging to their exclusive 'environmental club'. No, I do not always ride my bike to class, I have a smartphone and tend to not collect mason jars, or forage for mushrooms, I wear shoes, I shop at Kroger, and yes - I kill spiders that I find in my room. I have tried to be accepting of lifestyles other than mine, but both sides seem to be pulling at me, declaring that there is no balance in between.
Although my lifestyle and image does not conform to the stereotypes of the crunchy-granola, earthy environmentalists, I am a thinking, breathing, conscientious individual - here to develop my academic as well as social and ethical skills. I care about the details... understanding that it's not enough to simply plant a tree...it needs to be the 'right' tree and that while a relaxing hike on a forest trail or invigorating climb up a mountain may fulfill our 'biophilic needs', I recognize that not everyone in our society is capable of the balance and endurance required to experience and appreciate nature. And for this reason I have had my own hesitations; these hesitations have caused individuals to doubt my altruism on the environmental front.
Recently, in a meeting, I was expressing my thoughts on the importance of native vegetation and the dangers of exotic invasives. The group was intrigued by my comments and one man said my way of thinking was so unique and different. I didn't know how to respond to that... I fell in love with the idea of native plants- and later the plants themselves-because the very nature of this solution was to me logical and simple. I still remember the first presentation I ever went to. I remember being captivated by this very practical idea of backing up your actions with ecological principles...something everyone with a backyard can participate in, and yet others find it unique and different.
I am bewildered and deeply concerned that being a 'non-environmentalist' is synonymous with simply being human, being American. Meanwhile, women wear the flag on tube tops and short-shorts, native plant enthusiasts are called xenophobic lunatics, the boreal forest is destroyed and the Midwest is fracked to pieces all in the name of oil independence - of patriotism. And for some reason my deep concern for the environment is problematic for 'mainstream' America on one hand, and too reserved for the radical environmental-underground.
I've never fully identified myself as an environmentalist, and yet I'm judged as one for both my extreme and lax habits, ideas and everyday decisions.
Personally, I'm on a journey of identity-development; however, I feel it will never be complete so long as society lacks the ability of cooperation. Fundamental change can be inspired by concern- but until we become less concerned with trivial things like aesthetics we will never experience the changes required. Just as the roots of even the smallest native plants run deep into the ground, I too try to offer more than may appear on the surface, but you won't know until you try to dig deeper.
In The Seed Underground: A Growing Revolution to Save Food Janisse Ray writes, "my job, too, as a writer, ferries me to many university campuses, where I find myself engaged in honest and deeply transformative conversations with young thinkers who understand very clearly what is not working. Tattooed arms and studs do not scare me, nor do hip boots with miniskirts or low-rider pants. I am not afraid of nudity, nor long hair, nor unshaven armpits. All of this is part of the story of belonging. I accept you" (xv).
I accept you.
These three simple words from a faceless author empower the reader before they have even begun to dive deep into the book. She doesn't know me, but she values me academically and personally, acknowledging that I am an asset in the grand scheme of revolting against a rapidly changing world. She allows me to recognize myself as conscientious thinker and powerful player in the upcoming paradigm shift we (as a like-minded community - if that is possible) strive for. In a matter of 5 pages I feel more support from her than I have felt from my academic community in the past two years.
I had the opportunity at the beginning of the month to hear her speak and read excerpts from her book. I spoke to very briefly- thanking her for coming and asking if she had done any personal research on native plants. I spelled out my name for her as she signed my book, asking if that was my interest. I told her it was what brought me to graduate school. She complimented my name (although I really cannot take credit for that one- but accepted on behalf of my parents) and handed me back the book with a genuine and endearing smile.
Now, whenever I feel as though I've lost my way, I can open to the front cover and read, "For Markie - who cares about the wild world. Thank you" as a reminder of who I am.
