Ph.D. Candidate, Ecology and Environmental Sciences

91±ŹÁÏ

Welcome! I am so thrilled to present Spire’s fifth issue, the journal’s largest issue yet. It contains a variety of submissions, including art, poetry, photography, research, and personal stories. This collection of diverse content reflects Spire’s vision and mission to unite communities and to galvanize action for conservation and sustainability. Inside you will find original work such as a collection of paintings representing the fragile cycle of life, poetry that examines the threat climate change poses on icebreaking on the Penobscot River, and a reflection on what one individual learned while serving as a sustainability coordinator at a local university. Another author discusses how the Baby Boomer generation perceives climate change, and a team discusses the role of big data in sustainability science. I feel very blessed to have connected with so many people all across the state and the northeast and I’m proud to witness Spire’s continued growth.

The impacts of the ongoing COVID-19 pandemic have been felt by people all over the world. Our day-to-day lives have been completely disrupted over the past year, but I am encouraged by the resiliency I have seen in my peers and community. One particular aspect of this global pandemic that has caused a lot of conversation is the idea of what is our world’s “normal.” Lockdowns around the world slowed industrial activity and decreased the number of automobiles on the road, causing a marked reduction in both . Unfortunately, the pandemic also caused , and increased our reliance on plastic products such as PPE and single-use takeout food containers. The environmental impacts, both good and bad, of the COVID-19 pandemic have resulted in behavioral reflection. As our world starts returning to normal, it is crucial for us to think about what “normal” actually means, and if we are ok with what it represents.

The hard work and dedication of Spire’s editorial team continue to inspire, and their thoughtful and thorough reviews have helped me become a better editor and a more reflective reader. Their attention to detail has helped shape the contents of our fifth issue into strong, conversation-provoking pieces. Special thanks go out to editorial board members Chelsea Fairbank, Paloma Henriques, Logan Kline, Dominic Piacentini, Hana Palazzo, Tyler Quiring, Meaghan Bellavance, Rafa Tasnim, and Bowen Chang. As usual, our faculty director, Dr. Dan Dixon, and co-editor in chief, Clinton Spaulding, were instrumental in the success of this issue. I also want to extend many thanks to the journal’s former editor in chief, Elyse DeFranco, for answering all my questions along the way as I transitioned into her role. Their feedback, help, and support are much appreciated. Unfortunately, for the second year in a row we cannot hold our in-person annual release party, but we remain hopeful that we can gather again as a team this fall.

This past year has been a struggle for many of us but has also been one of reflection, showing just how connected we all are to each other and to the natural world. I hope the contents of this issue will help you pause, make reflections of your own, and encourage conversations about sustainability and conservation not just in your own life, but at a community and state level, and beyond.

Be safe and well,

Rebecca Champagne

Editor in Chief

The post A Letter From the Editor appeared first on The Maine Journal of Conservation and Sustainability.

Abstract

In the face of changing climate, adaptations to agricultural systems are necessary to ensure the resilience of our food systems. Despite the increasing urgency for these measures, multiple barriers exist which prevent growers from adopting adaptive practices. Political tensions and attitudes of skepticism amongst growers have created challenges in communicating climate information, which has prompted research into methods of communication that more effectively promote understanding between growers and educational organizations. The focus of this study was to determine whether differences in communication methods by 91±ŹÁÏ Cooperative Extension to Maine growers could, in part, account for an increased level of concern about climate change amongst Maine wild blueberry and apple growers as compared to potato growers (Jemison et al. 2014). Written online content produced or recommended by Cooperative Extension was analyzed to determine how these sources discussed climate change. Only 3% of the available content mentioned climate change. 8 sources, written for wild blueberry and apple growers, mentioned climate change explicitly; no sources for potato growers addressed climate change. Interviews conducted with six Cooperative Extension specialists found that Extension uses a variety of outreach methods to reach growers and emphasizes grower-to-grower information flow as an important communication strategy. There were many different definitions of successful communication; some Extension agents felt that the goal of climate communication was to share information and create understanding, while others felt that the goal was to promote the adoption of adaptive practices. Most of the reasoning used by the interviewees to promote or justify adaptation was focused on the economy and profit. The results of this study suggest that the differences in Extension communication is not a significant factor contributing to differences in climate perceptions amongst Maine growers. More research into the role of Extension in climate communication networks is necessary.

Introduction

Agriculture in Maine faces new challenges as a result of climate change. Warmer winters, increased spring rainfall, and summer droughts have been documented and are projected to worsen (Fernandez et al. 2020). These issues could create or exacerbate challenges with pests, disease, and weather damage in crops (Fernandez et al. 2020). Because of these challenges, it is essential that growers adapt their practices to protect the productivity and longevity of their operations. However, there are numerous barriers that present challenges to adoption of new climate change adaptation strategies by growers.

The short-term risks associated with market pressures and economics are often more concerning to farmers than the future risks associated with climate change (Takahashi et al. 2016). Farmers have noted that the costs to make changes to their practices (Schattman et al. 2019; Takahashi et al. 2016), as well as initially reduced yield and profit as the result of adopting sustainable management practices (Carolan 2006) are concerns that prevent them from implementing new practices. Additionally, farmers have reported difficulties in choosing management practices that respond to the short-term challenges while also preparing their operations to be resilient to long-term changes (Takahashi et al. 2016).

In addition to economic and logistical hurdles facing growers, attitudes of skepticism amongst farmers towards climate science and government can also present barriers to climate change adaptation in agriculture. Studies in several locations show that growers are typically aware that climate and weather patterns are changing, but are often skeptical or unsure whether this is due to human activity (Arbuckle, Morton, and Hobbs 2015; Jemison et al. 2014; Evans, Storer, and Wardell-Johnson 2011). Some believe that climate change is being used by scientists to secure funding and by politicians to control rural populations, which creates hesitance to commit to climate change action (Evans, Storer, and Wardell-Johnson 2011; Carolan 2019). Additionally, climate change communication in the United States is difficult in general because of the highly politicized nature of this issue (Van Boven, Ehret, and Sherman 2018). The political tension associated with the term “climate change” has led researchers and communicators to use alternative terms to avoid triggering politicized responses from growers (Jemison et al. 2014), but concerns have been raised that relying on terms such as “variable weather” and “changing weather patterns” when what is really being discussed by Extension or other science communicators is climate change could erode trust between researchers, educators, and growers (Tobin et al. 2017).

The challenges in communicating with growers that present these attitudes have prompted researchers to seek communication methods that promote understanding and encourage environmentally conscious practices. A study of climatologists from the North central region of the United States found that they were likely to consider their role in climate change decision-making processes to be the “pure scientist” and to avoid drawing connections between climate science and social and political issues (Wilke and Morton 2014). This study suggests that scientists could have a more positive impact on decision-making processes if they adopt the role of an “honest broker” who explains to decision-makers the pros and cons of all available strategies in the context of climate science so they can better understand the consequences of different approaches (Wilke and Morton 2014). Research also suggests that types of communication with growers that activate a “conservationist” identity that values long-term goals of protecting and improving their land are more effective in getting farmers to adopt adaptive practices than communication styles that activate a “productivist” identity that values high yield and high profits (Morton, Mcguire, and Cast 2017).

Cooperative Extension, a national educational organization operated through public land grant universities, has a unique role in conveying research-based climate information to growers. Concerns have been raised from Cooperative Extension educators and specialists in the Northeast climate hub that their programs struggle to engage growers in discussions on the necessity of implementing adaptive and mitigative practices (Tobin et al. 2017). Providing more in-depth training to Cooperative Extension educators on the economics of adaptation and creating cost-benefit analysis tools were suggested as possible solutions (Diehl et al. 2018; Tobin et al. 2017). Peer-to-peer communication between growers about newly adopted methods has also been suggested as a way to promote greater adoption of climate adaptation practices (Jemison et al. 2014). Additionally, a study conducted in the Midwestern US found that Cooperative Extension was a trusted source of climate information for private agricultural advisors, suggesting that Extension could have important indirect impacts on knowledge sharing and decision-making processes (Prokopy et al. 2015).

In previous research, wild blueberry growers and apple growers in Maine have both been reported to be particularly aware of and concerned about Maine’s changing climate, whereas those in other industries such as dairy and potatoes are less aware of and concerned about climate change (Jemison et al. 2014). The primary research question of this project was whether differences in communication by Cooperative Extension to wild blueberry, apple, and potato growers could, in part, explain these differences in perceptions. In addition to this primary goal, the analysis of interviews and Cooperative Extension materials lead to a broader focus on the role of Cooperative Extension in climate communication. These three crops were selected because all are input-intensive crops typically grown in monoculture and all have designated 91±ŹÁÏ Cooperative Extension branches and 91±ŹÁÏ research stations, so as to minimize differences between groups. The results of this work are intended to serve as preliminary results for further investigation.

Methods

Content Analysis of Outreach Material

Outreach material targeted or designed for each of the three types of crops (apple, wild blueberry, and potato) were assessed using a quantitative content analysis approach. The types of materials analyzed were factsheets, reports, newsletters, handbooks, PowerPoint presentations, and web pages on each of the respective crop’s 91±ŹÁÏ Cooperative Extension websites. These types of materials were selected as the focus of this study because they offered a large collection of recorded Extension communication over a range of many years, and because other forms of outreach, such as farm visits or conferences, were more difficult to access when this study took place because of Covid-19 restrictions. The Extension websites often had links to resources created by other institutions, such as Extension agencies from other states or growers’ associations. In these cases, the material was collected and analyzed if the link led to a specific page or collection of information. If the link led to a more general page, such as the front page of another Extension agency website, then the name of the site was recorded, but the content was not analyzed. The year of publication or revision and the length of the source were recorded. For the content written for apple growers, many of the sources focused more generally on tree fruits including, for example, pears and plums. These sources were still included and analyzed. Some interviewees recommended or sent resources that they use with growers that were not included on the Cooperative Extension website, which were also analyzed.

All of the content was read and sorted into two groups: those that explicitly mentioned climate change and those that did not. The sources that explicitly mentioned climate change were further analyzed to determine: 1) what kinds of values or reasonings the source used to advocate for climate change action; 2) how the source referred to government and policy; and 3) what kinds of uncertainty the source expressed about the climate future. There were three sources that focused mainly on non-climate related topics but mentioned climate change in some sections of the work. In those cases, the section of the source that discussed climate change was coded, but the rest of the source was not.

Interviews with Cooperative Extension Educators

Semi-structured interviews were conducted with six Extension agents, two per each crop studied. These six agents were selected through the Cooperative Extension directory and from recommendations from key informants. The interviews were conducted and recorded using Zoom, transcribed using the built-in Otter.ai service, and then manually checked for errors. The interviews were coded. The goal of the interviews was to assess: 1) what communication methods Cooperative Extension educators think are most engaging to growers; 2) what information about climate change they think is most relevant for growers; 3) what perceptions they have of grower’s motivations to adopt climate adaptations; and 4) what kinds of reasonings they used to justify adopting adaptive practices. The interviews took place in July 2020 and ranged between 15 to 50 minutes.

Results

Content Analysis

235 sources were collected from the Cooperative Extension websites. 66 sources were written for blueberry growers, 68 were written for potato growers, and 101 were written for apple and tree fruit growers. Of these sources, 8 explicitly mentioned climate change, 3 of which were written for blueberry growers and 5 for apple growers. None of the sources used an alternative term, such as “variable weather” or “increased weather variability,” in a way that referred to climate change. The sources that mentioned climate change were a combination of handbooks, research reports, checklists, and PowerPoint presentations. Excluding the PowerPoint presentations, the average length of these sources was 55.4 pages.

Table 1. Overview of all sources.Ìę

Table 2. Overview of climate change sources.

The majority of sources that discussed climate change prioritized communicating region specific climate data over global climate data, although global climate data was sometimes used to contextualize climate data specific to Maine, New England, or the Northeastern climate hub.

The sources had a strong focus on the economics of climate change and adaptation with few mentions of the impacts that climate change may have on communities or society. The sources described what the environmental impacts of climate change could be, but these details were typically framed as ways climate change could impact production and profits. Some examples of different types of value statements are included below:

“This curriculum is focused on maintaining a profitable tree fruit orchard, not changing the whole world.” (Climate Adaptation Fellowship — Self Study Checklist)

“The value of perennial specialty crops is derived from not only the tonnage but also the quality of the harvested product, for example the size of a peach, the red blush on an apple, or the bouquet of a red wine produced from a particular vineyard.” (Climate Adaptation Fellowship — Recent and Near‐future Climate Trends Important to Tree Fruit Production in the Northeastern U.S.)

“Recognize that when you link your pollinator habitat to that of your neighbors, you create an entire farm community that ensures abundant crop yields for itself, that is resilient to changes in climate or honey bee availability, and that is a beautiful place to live.” (Guidelines for Providing Native Bee Habitat on Farms)

“Perennial specialty crops have reduced yield and quality in association with water deficits, and reduced profits as a result.” (Climate Adaptation Fellowship — Recent and Near‐future Climate Trends Important to Tree Fruit Production in the Northeastern U.S.)

Of the eight sources that explicitly mentioned climate change, the three sources written for blueberry growers focused on bees and pollination. These described changes in pollinator distribution and behavior due to climate change and did not make any mentions of government or policy. The five sources written for apple growers were part of the Climate Adaptation Fellowship curriculum designed to help fruit tree growers in New England run resilient and profitable operations in the face of climate change. The guide to this curriculum stated that “by staying away from polemical debate and focusing on curriculum content, the workshop leaders can avoid engaging filters that can distort communication, block free exchange of ideas, and interfere with incorporating information into decisions.” All subsequent mentions of government or policy were to existing agencies, such as the National Resource Conservation Service, United States Department of Agriculture, and Farm Service Agency.

Sources acknowledged uncertainty in climate predictions and informed readers of the limitations of the predictions that they cited. One Climate Adaptation Fellowship source noted that although there is uncertainty, “you make decisions and act under uncertainty every day.” The sources written for blueberry growers, which were focused on bees, did not mention the causes of climate change. The sources written for apple growers stated that “addressing climate change at the global scale or the reasons why it is happening are not pertinent topics for this curriculum.” No source expressed uncertainty about the causes of climate change; this topic was either not mentioned or explicitly defined as non-topical for the source.

Interviews

Interviewees were asked what types of communication techniques they used to reach growers and what they thought successful results of that communication looked like. All interviewees said that they used a variety of outreach strategies, including farm visits, one-on-one consultations, fact sheets, newsletters, hotlines, conferences, field days, research reports, websites, and videos. Many interviewees expressed the importance of grower-to-grower communication in spreading information throughout the grower community:

“When they go out to the farm day, they’re not only going out to listen to you, they’re going out to talk to their neighbors [and] find out what’s happening in their fields.”

“There are people in every industry that other people look to like, oh, these people are on the cutting edge. You get them on board, people will listen to them.”

“A lot of farmers will only start doing a new practice if another farmer says they tried it and it worked. There’s this network between farmers, and as Extension folks, we know this all too well. We’ll work with one farmer and then in doing that, like having a research project on their farm, they see the impact that that material or whatever it is, actually changed or improved the situation. So, then they will recommend that to their peers.”

In addition to highlighting the importance of grower-to-grower communication, many interviewees expressed the importance of grower-to-Extension communication, as well as their confidence in the growers and their expertise:

“And I think the potato growers that are still in the game are very, very, very savvy growers. They really know what they’re doing. They are on all aspects of it. And certainly soil, they recognize as being an important thing.”

“[Growers] are the smartest people ever. They are so smart and very intuitive.”

“If I’m having a conversation with somebody, I’m listening and I’m learning something from them because they are experts on their property and their crops. So, I treat them like the experts, and I gain their respect that way, and then I’m able to mention something that might be of help to them. So, I pick something out from what they’re explaining and suggest a solution”

“So those are some things that I have learned from growers. The biggest thing I’ve learned was how much growers are recognizing this intensive rain problem and that’s kind of new from before.”

Most definitions of successful communication included a goal of educating growers and presenting them with solutions to climate-related issues that their operations might be facing. Some interviewees placed emphasis on offering multiple solutions and allowing growers to determine what solutions make the most sense for them. Some examples of definitions of successful outreach are included below:

“But I would say success would be that a grower that wasn’t doing [irrigation] decides they need it and are willing to go and try to get NRCS or USDA to help support that investment.”

“Success is just giving them the information they need to deal with the problem and fix it by themselves.”

“So that’s really the successful piece, relating it to actual events that are affecting them and having negative outcomes. So, some of the positive outcomes are nice, but then again, the negative outcomes negate them completely.”

When asked what information was most essential for growers to make informed decisions about their management practices, most responses mentioned current and future weather data, the development of new adaptation techniques, the costs of implementing new adaptive practices, and having places to access assistance. Interviewees expressed the need for better long-term forecasting tools to help growers determine when to use different techniques or practices to prevent damage from different weather events such as heavy rain, drought, or frost:

“The cost is a big one. Whatever it be. The efficacy, so does it work? Under what conditions does it work?”

“I think it’s not anything specific to any particular problem but being able to have some expertise that they can contact immediately and help them deal with the problems that are occurring in the immediate season.”

“One of the things that myself and farmers would love to have would be a better long-term forecast. That would actually give us time to react to bad weather events.”

“They’re all looking for, you know, great methods to tell them when to go irrigate now say, well, at this point, we just don’t got it, but you just got to go out there and feel your soil and look at the forecast and do the best you can to develop a system that works for you.”

Most interviews had an emphasis on the economic aspects of farming operations, discussing things such as the financial impact of climate-related crop damage and loss, the costs of climate change adaptation, and grower concerns about their financial situations. There were many statements made about the necessity of tying sustainability to profitability and economic vitality:

“I think they respond more to other problems like lack of a strong market. That seems to direct them far more than concerns about climate change.”

“You got to make profitability, sustainability. That’s the big buzzword. I had a grower say to me the other day, if it’s not profitable, it’s not sustainable, you know? You can talk about water ditch diversions and everything else all day long. But if I’m not making money, it’s pointless. You know, I got to make money. I can’t live for nothing.”

“They’re really concerned with production and low prices and even having someone take over the fields. You know, if the economic climate isn’t good, then those fields get bought up by other people managing them.”

During these conversations, some interviewees expressed concerns about the politicization of climate change issues. These comments were often accompanied with concerns that those beliefs would be inappropriate to express, either to the growers or within the context of the interview. These comments centered around the idea that politically charged discourse and media create barriers to climate change literacy and action, for both growers and the country as a whole. Exact quotes on this topic were not included to protect the privacy and respect the wishes of the participants.

The interviewees were asked whether they used the term “climate change” when discussing management practices with growers or if they used other terms that had less political association. Of the 6 participants, 3 said that they openly used the term climate change, 2 said that they typically avoid using the term “climate change” in favor of terms such as “weather variability” or “increasingly variable weather patterns,” and 1 said that they did not talk about climate change with growers directly as a part of their job but would use the term “climate change” if they were having a casual discussion.

Discussion

The original research question for this project was whether the differences in grower perceptions of climate change amongst wild blueberry, apple, and potato growers reported by Jemison et. al, 2014 were due in part to differences in the types of resources and language used to communicate to these three groups by Cooperative Extension. In the written content, there were no sources relating to climate change written for potato growers, whereas there were sources written for wild blueberry and apple growers. While this could be one factor contributing to the difference in receptiveness between potato growers and the two groups of fruit growers, it seems unlikely considering that only 8 sources out of all 235 sources available to growers mentioned climate change at all, meaning that low rates of discussion about climate change in written sources was common across all groups. It is possible that further study into other avenues of communication, such as farm visits and grower conferences, could yield different results.

In the interviews, many of the same issues (i.e., drought and unpredictable heavy rainfall) were mentioned by most or all of the people interviewed, and many of the same adaptive strategies (i.e., irrigation and drainage) were mentioned as responses to these problems. From this evidence, it seems that despite the differences in each crop’s physiology, most of the climate impacts that these crops face are very similar. From the data collected in this study, the style or method of communicating with growers does not seem to be a large contributing factor to their likeliness to adopt adaptive strategies or seek out climate change information.

Economics was cited as a major driver for climate change adaptations from Extension professionals. While this does acknowledge the importance of profit in sustaining growing operations, it is also unclear whether this focus on profitability leads to efficient adoption of adaptive practices. Using language that activates “productivist” mindsets that focus on short-term profits rather than long-term goals of sustainability have been found to reduce the likelihood that growers will adopt adaptive practices (Morton 2017). While the economic aspects of growing are important and could be compelling reasons to adopt new practices, it is possible that a broader focus on the social aspects of climate impacts and adaptation could have benefits in some cases. More research is necessary to determine what types of language surrounding profitability activate mindsets that hinder adaptation versus those that promote adaptation in order to use this language effectively.

The politicization of climate change presents issues for communicating climate change predictions, impacts, and adaptive or mitigative practices. The written content that focused on climate change as its main topic defined its focus as the adaptive strategies that tree fruit growers could adopt to address climate impacts to improve their resilience and profitability, and explicitly stated that it would not address the causes of climate change because of the political nature of that topic. Instead, the goal was to create actionable goals that all growers, regardless of their beliefs about anthropogenic climate change, could use to create profitable operations.

Similarly, in interviews, the interviewees expressed concerns about the politicization of climate change information. Despite acknowledging climate change as a reality supported by research-based information, interviewees felt as though other types of media had influenced public opinion about climate change, which affected their ability to freely have discussions with growers about this topic. Interviewees indicated that engaging with politics and worldviews was not an aspect of their job or the role of Extension, so despite their feelings about these communication barriers, they did not feel it was appropriate for them to address them.

A large question raised by these results is what is the role of Cooperative Extension in communicating climate change information in places where this issue moves beyond research-based findings into social impacts and policy? The official role of Extension is to deliver research-based information to the public, meaning that their ability to engage with some of the barriers to adaptation, such as political bias and division, is significantly limited by the nature of their role in communication. Additionally, Extension’s apolitical positions on these topics is a source of credibility for many growers, meaning that attempts by Extension to engage in conversation outside of their research-based knowledge sharing could erode growers’ trust. However, Extension is considered a trusted source of information by other private organizations who may have more leeway to have broader conversations about worldviews and politics, meaning that communication flow between Extension and other organizations could be important in promoting effective knowledge sharing. Investigation into Extension’s position in a larger communication network could prove to be useful in determining how to spread information and address communication barriers.

This study was designed as preliminary research for larger future projects. Thus, this study is limited in its sample sizes and the scope of its investigation but adds to the discussion about communication with growers about climate change adaptation. Only written Extension materials were included in the content analysis and only adaptive practices were discussed during interviews with Extension professionals. While these are not necessarily limitations, it should be noted that an examination of all outreach efforts and discussions of both adaptive and mitigative practices could reveal deeper insights into the intricacies of climate communication by Cooperative Extension and differences between the three groups studied that were not found with this research design.

Conclusion

No significant difference was found in the communication methods used by different crop specialists, suggesting that differences in perceptions amongst Maine growers noted by Jemison et al. 2014 is due to other factors beyond communication methods. It was found that economics was used as the most frequent justification for climate adaptation in Extension material and by Extension professionals. Because of previous research suggesting that some economic terminology or framing may hinder adoption of adaptive practices, more research is needed to determine how this use of economic reasoning shapes the understandings between Extension and growers on climate issues. A major barrier identified through this research was political responses towards climate issues. Climate change is a complex topic that encompasses many aspects of the environment, society, and economics. Because Extension’s role is to communicate research-based information to growers, they may not be the most suited organization to approach the social beliefs surrounding climate change in their communication with growers. Because of this, it may be necessary to look for other organizations who have a more appropriate role for addressing the social values that affect willingness to engage with discussions of climate change, and research how cooperation between these organizations and Extension could promote better awareness and understanding of the risks that climate change poses to agriculture in Maine.

Acknowledgements

This research was done for the Sustainable Food Systems Research Collaborative between the 91±ŹÁÏ and College of The Atlantic. This project was funded by United States Department of Agriculture – National Institute of Food and Agriculture (USDA-NIFA), project number 2007-69006-26573.

References

1. Arbuckle, J. Gordon, Lois Wright Morton, and Jon Hobbs. “Understanding Farmer Perspectives on Climate Change Adaptation and Mitigation.” Environment and Behavior 47, no. 2 (2015): 205-34. doi:10.1177/0013916513503832.
2. Carolan, Michael S. “Do You See What I See? Examining the Epistemic Barriers to Sustainable Agriculture*.” Rural Sociology 71, no. 2 (2006): 232-60. doi:10.1526/003601106777789756.
3. Carolan, Michael. “Filtering Perceptions of Climate Change and Biotechnology: Values and Views among Colorado Farmers and Ranchers.” Climatic Change 159, no. 1 (2019): 121-39. doi:10.1007/s10584-019-02625-0.
4. Diehl, David C., Nicole L. Sloan, Elder P. Garcia, Daniel R. Dourte, Sebastian Galindo-Gonzalez, and Clyde W. Fraisse. “Profitability, Engaging Delivery, and Trust: How Extension Professionals Can Optimize Farmer Adoption of Climate-related Adaptation Strategies.” Journal of Human Sciences and Extension 6, no. 3 (2018). https://www.jhseonline.com/article/view/792.
5. Evans, Chris, Christine Storer, and Angela Wardell-Johnson. “Rural Farming Community Climate Change Acceptance: Impact of Science and Government Credibility.” International Journal of Sociology of Agriculture and Food 18, no. 3 (September 12, 2011): 217-35.
6. Fernandez, Ivan, Sean Birkel, Catherine Schmitt, Julia Simonson, Bradfield Lyon, Andrew Pershing, Esperanza Stancioff, George Jacobson, Paul Mayewski. “Maine’s Climate Future 2020 Update.” (2020): doi:10.13140/RG.2.2.24401.07521.
7. Jemison, John, Damon Hall, Stephanie Welcomer, and Jane Haskell. “How to Communicate with Farmers about Climate Change: Farmers Perceptions and Adaptations to Increasingly Variable Weather Patterns in Maine (USA).” Journal of Agriculture, Food Systems, and Community Development, (2014): 1-14. doi:10.5304/jafscd.2014.044.001.
8. Morton, Lois Wright, Jean M. Mcguire, and Alicia D. Cast. “A Good Farmer Pays Attention to the Weather.” Climate Risk Management 15 (2017): 18-31. doi:10.1016/j.crm.2016.09.002.
9. Prokopy, Linda Stalker, J. Stuart Carlton, J. Gordon Arbuckle, Tonya Haigh, Maria Carmen Lemos, Amber Saylor Mase, Nicholas Babin, Mike Dunn, Jeff Andresen, Jim Angel, Chad Hart, and Rebecca Power. “Extensionâ€Čs Role in Disseminating Information about Climate Change to Agricultural Stakeholders in the United States.” Climatic Change 130, no. 2 (2015): 261-72. doi:10.1007/s10584-015-1339-9.
10. Schattman, Rachel E., Stephanie E. Hurley, Holly L. Greenleaf, Meredith T. Niles, and Martha Caswell. “Visualizing Climate Change Adaptation: An Effective Tool for Agricultural Outreach?” Weather, Climate, and Society 12, no. 1 (2020): 47-61. doi:10.1175/wcas-d-19-0049.1.
11. Takahashi, Bruno, Morey Burnham, Carol Terracina-Hartman, Amanda R. Sopchak, and Theresa Selfa. “Climate Change Perceptions of NY State Farmers: The Role of Risk Perceptions and Adaptive Capacity.” Environmental Management 58, no. 6 (2016): 946-57. doi:10.1007/s00267-016-0742-y.
12. Tobin, Daniel, Rama Radhakrishna, Allison Chatrchyan, and Shorna B. Allred. “Addressing Climate Change Impacts on Agriculture and Natural Resources: Barriers and Priorities for Land-Grant Universities in the Northeastern United States.” Weather, Climate, and Society 9, no. 3 (2017): 591-606. doi:10.1175/wcas-d-16-0106.1.
13. Van Boven, Leaf, Phillip J. Ehret, and David K. Sherman. “Psychological Barriers to Bipartisan Public Support for Climate Policy.” Perspectives on Psychological Science 13, no. 4 (2018): 492-507. doi:10.1177/1745691617748966.
14. Wilke, Adam K., and Lois Wright Morton. “Climatologists’ Patterns of Conveying Climate Science to the Agricultural Community.” Agriculture and Human Values 32, no. 1 (2014): 99-110. doi:10.1007/s10460-014-9531-5.

The post Comparing Climate Change Communications Across Maine Wild Blueberry, Apple, and Potato Growing Communities appeared first on The Maine Journal of Conservation and Sustainability.

The deluge of water cascading under stores and over walls in Camden is archetypical coastal Maine—this iconic river is in postcards, pictures, and magazines. The existence of the dam that creates the river as we know it, and the history of the mills it emblemizes, insinuates the history of prosperity in the picturesque little tourist town. The sentiment of “Honor our History” billows on bright vinyl banners and falls from local lips. Upon closer inspection, only the history of the last couple of hundred years is being honored. Pollution, development, and fish barriers relegate the natural history to small, preserved parcels on the outskirts of town, and any trace that humans had lived in the area before the dams is virtually nonexistent save for the river’s name itself. Still, the Megunticook is universally adored—It’s hard for anyone to avoid feeling protective over the beauty, man-made or natural, of the places you, your parents, and your grandparents grew up in.

I, too, grew up along rivers, though one far away. After school, I would often paddle to the center of the wide, brown Delaware, until both banks looked like they were made of Legos. I tried to figure out if I was in New Jersey or Pennsylvania, just in case I needed to know. I never was sure, but it never mattered. I was simply on the river—my place of peace, the wind and rippling water—gently floating through the open expanse of water. It was all I wanted as a third grader—long afternoons were devoured catching crayfish, finding clamshells in the sand, and wading into the current.

Even as a kid, it was hard to miss that I lived in an Important Place. A single moment in history was meticulously honored here—the buildings, museums, signs, parks, statues, reenactments reminded us at every moment. A short walk through the town would suggest that no moment before December 25, 1776 was significant; thousands of years prior were overshadowed by the very moment when George Washington heroically crossed the Delaware to bring freedom and democracy to America. Though I couldn’t name a single Delaware River fish species or pronounce the river’s Lenape name (“Lenapewihittuck”), like all of my classmates and neighbors, I knew the exact route Washington’s army took. History is sacred, I was taught in school. We must preserve it, and this town took that duty seriously. Aside from cars and power lines, the 21st century only permeated the river itself; I picked plastic off the shores, couldn’t swim after big storms due to sewage overflow and fertilizer runoff, and paddled to the concrete pillars under the Interstate 295 bridge, marveling as it vibrated with a constant whoosh overhead.

Change is a river’s defining feature, and the Delaware is no exception. The river turns a fiery red in the autumn with fallen maple leaves gracing its surface, and April brings blooms of pastels, decorating the cherry and forsythia branches. I’ve watched as spring waters approach, engulfing the shore, and eroding away the slippery red mud. I’d sometimes hear that the city must drain the reservoirs to stop floods upstream, so my neighbors drove their cars to higher ground while my family, the lucky ones, stayed with grandparents for some days that became some weeks. Even in the basement of my neighbor’s 150-year-old house that’s been in the same place and the same color with the same mailbox as long as anyone’s great-grandparents could remember (per Homeowner’s Association Rules) was three feet of brown, goopy water. Though George Washington crossed nearly the same river that the Lenape Nation fished out of for thousands of years, the river that flooded my neighbor’s basement was not the same river that played such a pivotal role in the Revolutionary War, now diverted by canals and pumped into reservoirs.

Years later, after I moved four hundred miles away, the Megunticook took the Delaware’s place as my home river. I crossed the tiny Megunticook River daily, driving over a section of U.S. Route 1 that you wouldn’t know was a bridge unless you got out of the car to look. This river was nimble and narrow, crossing over dams to create spectacular waterfalls and flowing between stone buildings and beneath the downtown. Though the river is loved, there are no spring alewife runs like the nearby Damariscotta, Ducktrap, or Penobscot rivers, nor sightings of endangered salmon in recorded history. These fish need to travel freely through a clean, cool river. The Megunticook is dammed. Like the Delaware, it’s a 21^st century place—it floods the buildings it flows under in the spring, carries road salt in the winter and lawn fertilizer in the summer, and heats up as it stagnates during the annual record-setting heat waves of August.Ìę This creates standing, warm, oxygen-poor water, an unhospitable environment for plants, invertebrates, fish, birds, and most other native species.

When I swim on the Megunticook, I can almost see the sparkling schools of fish that disappeared 250 years ago. These fish had been welcome visitors to the region since the ice sheets retreated 10,000 years ago. They would journey miles from the ocean into lakes, rivers, and streams to spawn then return to sea, bringing oceanic nutrients to nourish soil, plants, birds, bears, people. Some species might have evolved to be uniquely suited to this very river, their own genetically distinct population from rivers in nearby bays. If you look at just the right time in spring in Camden Harbor, you can watch fish trying to traverse the dam, hitting it over and over, swimming in circles. Thousands of years of evolution did not prepare these small fish to jump eight feet in the air, nor to survive in warm, stagnant pools held back by vertical walls. Their history is almost lost. We have one last chance preserve it now.

When standing on a mountaintop looking over Megunticook Lake, with the buildings appearing as tiny blocks dotted between a landscape of dark green pine trees and blue water, it’s easy to wonder about those many generations in Camden before the dams, before the mills, before the three-masted wooden schooners—those whose history was erased. What would it be like to be fishing and trapping beaver out of the fast, free-flowing Megunticook, or sitting on the shores watching smoke rise from the smoldering blueberry fields on the cliffs above? Their time on the river was dug out, bulldozed, and sealed away with slabs of concrete.

Then, as I walk through Camden’s Main Street, intact with the original stone and brick, most houses boasting placards of the year they were built, I wonder about the lives of those who first dammed the river in 1771—the long days of mill work, uncertainty of a new town, abundance of resources and hopes of riches. How exciting it must have been to see the wooden schooners sail off with thousands of pounds of flour, gunpowder, and wool. What was it like to first swim in the Megunticook Lake after the forested shores were submerged in dammed water? Did they realize their dams would remain hundreds of years later? Could they have imagined their creation not as a utilitarian necessity for economic growth, but as a beloved aesthetic landmark?

I am a classic case of “from away.” The Delaware is nothing like the Megunticook, though they share stories. Memories are not written in stone any more than they are written in concrete; we need the places we love to remind us of our favorite moments, natural or built. I humbly ask those who were lucky enough to grow up with the Megunticook to wonder about those before who have grown up with the same river, but before the dams, roads, and shops. Now, we have the power to create a new historical moment—the power to remove the dams and restore the river’s flow.

I am writing because I care about preserving history. Maybe asking to tear down a relic precious to modern memory isn’t the typical way to do that. I care about preserving a species’ history—alewives, salmon, trout—living breathing bundles of unique DNA. I am preserving a history of Maine’s lifestyle of fishing and the abundance of this land that we stole it for. I am preserving the way the river has always run since the glaciers retreated 10,000 years ago, the history of pre-1770, the years before the first dam was built on the Megunticook. Why should the river today look like it did in 1771? To honor the legacy of those that did not consider the concept of preservation for our future? Is that really more sacred? A man-made waterfall is more valuable than living, breathing evidence of thousands of years of evolution? More valuable than thousands of years of history? We may not have their stories written on paper, but we could have them carved into the land.

“History” is not a singular moment in time. We can, must, preserve the past, but by necessity we pick an arbitrary moment in the past to bring into the future. In the Megunticook, someone’s most cherished memory may be fishing on these banks with only open sky above them, and someone else’s may be standing under the waterfall staring up at the busy town above. Some memories are immortalized, some are erased. Who do we want to idolize? What do we want to protect?

Change flows through time like water. When even the climate is changing, the very idea of perpetuity is deceitful. Though the towns surrounding Washington Crossing tried to keep every detail in the past, they ignored the river itself. They changed the river’s course, flooded the neighborhoods, polluted it, killed it off. So did the Camden mills. Now we must decide which history we will remember and honor. Camden can have both a thriving river and a celebrated history. This is our chance for restoration.

I am the daughter of colonizers, from away. I can’t change the past, and I have no right to rewrite it. I am instead asking that we embrace the untold history, the stories forgotten, in this river’s future. Dam removal does not change what has always been; it allows the river to return to it was even earlier: free-flowing, alive. We can preserve species and create new memories along a restored, thriving, and living river. We can write tomorrow’s history thoughtfully, deliberately, and with care for one another and the environment. Take this as healing. Honor our history.

The post Honoring Our History: Restoration on the Megunticook River appeared first on The Maine Journal of Conservation and Sustainability.

Government Department, Colby College

Abstract

This paper examines the structural issues represented by the Farmers to Families Food Box (FFFB) initiative rolled out by the U.S. government in response to rising levels of food insecurity during the COVID-19 pandemic. It addresses some of the concerns brought about in a letter written by the U.S. House of Representatives Committee on Agriculture’s Subcommittee on Nutrition, Oversight, and Departmental Operations revealing the inefficacy and problems associated with the government and agribusiness’ overdependence on food charity to address the structural issue of hunger. I argue that the normalized outlook and treatment of food charity as “win-win-win” scenarios by these actors are ultimately ineffective, perpetuating existing food system injustices that disproportionately burden low-income communities of color. The middle to high-income and corporate conceptualization of food waste as “charity” for the poor presents a problematic paradigm that allows neoliberal ideologies to continue deepening inequality, poverty, and injustice in society.

For much of the past century, imagery depicting American agriculture has portrayed a bucolic scene, with farmers cultivating amber fields of grain, cows pasturing in abundant open space, and happy families sitting down to Sunday roast. The reality of the modern United States food system today, however, is mountains of excess corn, fields of rotting onions, hundreds of thousands of smashed unhatched eggs, and millions of hungry Americans. The reality is that retail waste from large food corporations run by wealthy individuals often become primary food sources of the poor. The reality is the continuous production of cheaply made, high-calorie, low-nutrient foods at the expense of long-term health for marginalized communities. It is the continued expansion of wealth for the richest few and perpetual hunger for the poor who are offered only stopgap solutions. It is , many of them from communities of color, waiting for retail waste at food banks to meet their critical needs. [i] The reality is , or the privatization of basic human rights to serve free-market goals that benefit primarily the wealthy few, an ideology woven into the fabric of our modern U.S. food system that perpetuates hunger and poverty in America. [ii]

Maine has the highest level of food insecurity in the New England region. Data from 2020 shows 6.9% of older adults in Maine are at risk of hunger, and 18% of children in Maine live at or below the poverty level. [iii] Additionally, food insecurity for families headed by people of color in Maine doubles when compared to the rate experienced by white, non-Hispanic households, and is compounded by other barriers including higher rates of diabetes and heart disease with restricted access to healthy and nutritious foods. [iv] Despite the desperate need for food among many families across America, studies have shown that up to , a percentage that has increased during the COVID-19 pandemic. [v] have perished as farmers see no outlet for their services in the time of a global shutdown. [vi] In the face of these untreated tumors of poverty and hunger embedded in the modern food system, exacerbated by the pandemic, the government rolled out the Farmers to Families Food Box (FFFB) Program. In a hearing before the Senate Committee on Agriculture, Nutrition, and Forestry in July 2020, Greg Ibach, Under Secretary for Marketing and Regulatory Programs appointed by former President Donald Trump, stated:

In just a few short weeks, USDA stood up the Farmers to Families Food Box (FFFB) Program as a new and innovative multi-billion dollar COVID response program to address three critical needs simultaneously: to provide markets for farmers faced with declining demand and the crisis of food rotting in fields and animals being euthanized; the food needs of newly unemployed Americans; and helping put suppliers and distributors back to work
 As Secretary Perdue has stated on multiple occasions, the program is a “win-win-win.”

Greg Ibach, U.S. Department of Agriculture (USDA)

Hearing Before the House Committee on Agriculture [vii]

July 21, 2020

While the effort to help farmers, families, and workers may have been well-intentioned, Ibach’s testimony was eerily reminiscent of a leaked World Bank Memo from the 1990s, wherein Lawrence Summers, former Under Secretary of the U.S. Treasury for International Affairs, used a laissez-faire and similarly neoliberal market rationale to propose the disposal of industrial waste in developing countries. In the memo, Summers states:

I think the economic logic behind dumping a load of toxic waste in the lowest-wage country is impeccable and we should face up to that
 I’ve always thought that countries in Africa are vastly under polluted; their air quality is probably vastly inefficiently low compared to Los Angeles
 Just between you and me, shouldn’t the World Bank be encouraging more migration of the dirty industries to the Least Developed Countries?

Lawrence Summers, Confidential World Bank Memo [viii]

December 12, 1991

­­­­­­­

In both cases, the message is the same: there is money to be made in reallocating or dumping “waste” in marginalized communities. The convenient solution to managing the unprofitable but unavoidable byproducts of modern food production and consumption is to reframe it as “charity” for the poor in order to allow for the continuation and dominance of free market ideologies. As COVID-19 interrupts supply chains across the nation forcing the closure of food service businesses, schools, hotels, and restaurants, many farmers are left with little choice but to dump millions of pounds of milk and produce into landfills. [ix] Rather than watch these foods lose value as they turn to agricultural “waste” in landfills, the USDA found an opportunity to reframe such waste as “aid” for the approximate 17.1 million individuals predicted to become food insecure amid the pandemic. The government thus rolled out its program to “purchase up to $3 billion in fresh produce, dairy, and meat products” to package into boxes that would be transported to food banks and other forms of community non-profits “serving Americans in need.” [x] This national operation would be conducted under “multimillion-dollar contracts” established with the USDA for companies that appear to have “.” [xi]

To clarify, redirecting food from landfills to hungry families in a time of financial crisis is not itself an affront to justice. Indeed, without this assistance and the charity of millions who volunteer at these shelters, many of America’s most vulnerable would be in danger of starvation. However, written by the U.S. House of Representatives Committee on Agriculture’s Subcommittee on Nutrition, Oversight and Departmental Operations, the challenges of our reliance on food banks as the “foundation of the US emergency food system” becomes apparent. [xii] While recognizing the tremendous charity of food banks and their volunteers, institutionalizing a temporary solution to the structural issue of food insecurity and hunger increasingly and disproportionately plagues low-income communities of color. In doing so, such programs reallocate food waste to our most vulnerable populations without addressing the drivers of food insecurity in the first place. This further burdens the poor while creating lucrative markets for corporate food producers and distributors.

The ironic truth behind this system of “food aid” channeled through food banks to U.S. families in need, described by representatives of the USDA as “win-win-win” scenario, is that it likely compounds structural harms on low-income communities by failing to address the causes of poverty while adding the extra burden of food waste into these communities. In the sections that follow, I explore this point in more depth by examining the current “corporate complex” that perpetuates poverty and food insecurity. [xiii] My aim is to describe the overdependence of government and corporate agribusinesses on food charity to address the structural issue of hunger. I argue that the normalized outlook and treatment of food charity as a “win-win-win” scenario by these actors are ultimately ineffective and instead perpetuate existing food system injustices that disproportionately burden low-income communities of color with both a lack of food and the responsibility for waste disposal. The middle to high-income and corporate conceptualization of food waste as “charity” for the poor presents a problematic paradigm that allows neoliberal ideologies to continue deepening inequality, poverty, and injustice in society.

Food Banks as “Disposal Sites” for Food Waste

In the House Committee on Agriculture’s letter of concerns over the USDA’s FFFB program, the committee highlights incidents of “spoiled food” delivery that “food banks did not coordinate” being delivered at their doorstep. [xiv] The over-supply of food to food banks that end up as waste is not unprecedented. Rather, this concern echoes problems associated with the integration of retail chains into the food banking supply system during the 2008 financial crisis. Since then, emergency food networks have had to reconfigure their organizational structures by increasing labor (often unpaid and volunteer) and adding more storage facilities, while remaining frequently underfunded. Items that the emergency food network receive from retailers are often those that are “overproduced, obsolete inventory, or simply waste.” [xv] A volunteer at an emergency food agency (EFA) in West Virginia, for example, commented on her experience redistributing retail waste donations by stating:

We have to distribute 25 pallets/day just to keep up [with the constant supply]. Monday is a holiday but we will still pick up. We run all year long, except black Friday because we just can’t accommodate [retail waste] then. Agencies are soaking food up because it’s never been available like this before. Perishables, fruits, vegetables, meat wasn’t out there before. Now with the retail program, most stores just donate. It’s something they can do, their company pushes it. [xvi]

As the FFFB Program rolls out financial contracts with companies – many of whom have never worked with food banks before and are largely unequipped to distribute to these organizations – food banks face new strains on their already overburdened infrastructure. Such companies include event planning specialists known for throwing “high-end conferences” with little or no contractional experience delivering aid to food banks. [xvii] To cater to this new supply of perishable items being donated by retailers, food banks have had to increase their storage capacity for new goods well above what they had before the pandemic. Eric Cooper, President and CEO of San Antonio Food Bank, testified before the House Committee on Agriculture in response to the new FFFB Program:

[The FFFB Program] also resulted in food banks shouldering more of the distribution burden than USDA had intended. Many food banks have hired additional staff, rented warehouse and refrigeration space, and rented trucks to handle the additional food. Other food banks have not been able to afford to invest in these additional capabilities and have had to turn some of the food offered through the program down due to lack of capacity.” [xviii]

Ìę

Beyond the burden of receiving, sorting, and storing an oversupply of donations, the FFFB Program highlights the binding challenges volunteers face working for a “food waste accounting regime” that offers significant financial benefit to those who donate. Giving “foods that threaten to flood and disrupt agriculture markets” a new life as charitable donations to food banks provides agribusinesses tax benefits and “artificial price points” while cutting the cost of waste disposal and helping them to further profit from their positively reinforced public image. [xx] Emergency food network volunteers and employees, who are often underpaid or unpaid due to the financial limitations of EFAs, express dissatisfaction meeting duties bound by contracts:

We have a contractual obligation with Feeding America and we pass those on to the agencies. It reflects poorly on us if they don’t report, we need more training for agencies to make them understand why numbers are important. If agencies don’t report a Walmart pick up it looks like that store didn’t give any food away, their corporate [office] can’t get the tax write off [
]. If you don’t report this free food, [retail stores] will stop giving it to you, and we will have to switch to an agency that is willing to report. [xxi]

While food bank employees are unable to decline unhealthy or spoiled foods due to these contractional obligations, low-income consumers themselves already face limitations in purchasing healthy foods at the supermarket. To avoid wasting money on perishable items, many resort to purchasing convenience foods, frozen “meals, pizzas, packaged baked goods, and canned soup” as opposed to fresh fruits and vegetables to avoid wasting money on perishable items. [xxii] While financial stability enables middle to high-income consumers to exercise their freedom of choice in the market and select higher, more nutritious foods, low-income families are unable to adequately satisfy such needs. To them, food is an issue of cost and accessibility, “luxuries they can seldom afford [in their] persistent efforts to access nutritious foods with inadequate income.” [xxiii] While food waste may be perceived by high to middle income consumers and corporations as “relief” for the poor, to low-income households, food waste presents a continual daily predicament.

To volunteers, food banks increasingly resemble “regifting depots” which rely on donations and volunteers from a “compassionate community” while the “heartless bureaucratic state” fuels an economic system in which the less privileged are continually disadvantaged. [xxiv] As a volunteer describes, “We are just feeding the line, not shortening [it].” [xxv] The goal of the food emergency system and its respective policies should thus be reevaluated to increase the stable supply of nutritious foods by empowering communities while reducing the necessity to supply free foods and waste proportionately. As Mary Robinson, United Nations Secretary-General’s Special Envoy on Climate Change described in 2004, “the right food is not about giving away free food to everyone.” [xxvi] Upholding commitments to protect citizen justice includes holding social, economic, and political institutions accountable to ensure all citizens have adequate physical and economic access to nutritious foods without being dependent on corporate food waste.

Invisible Harm, Invisible Waste

The FFFB Program also fails to address another layer of harm presented by food insecurity and food charity. Studies show that decreased food security leads to proportional decreases in nutrition levels, frequently associated with “anemia, asthma, poor cognitive performance, and behavior problems.” [xxvii] Meanwhile, a new hypothesis demonstrates how “increased intake of inexpensive, high-caloric foods” combined with “skipping meals and intermittent hunger leads to psychological changes” and obesity. [xxviii] Data collected by the National Health and Nutrition Examination Survey (NHANES) revealed that between 1999 and 2016 the number of women with obesity who were also food insecure rose from 12% at the beginning of the study to 25% by the end. Meanwhile, for men with obesity experiencing food insecurity, a comparable increase from 9% to 20% occurred. [xxix] As food delivered to food aid stations frequently lack nutrition, families who rely on food banks are often unable to meet necessary nutrition standards from their source of emergency aid.

Importantly, the issue of food insecurity is not equally distributed across the landscape. The NHANES reported much higher levels of food insecurity amongst Black and Hispanic participants between 2015 and 2016 compared to their White counterparts. [xxx] These disparities apply also to children, 14 million of which “go hungry in the United States every day.” [xxxi] COVID-19 has proved especially disastrous for children of low-income who received half of their caloric intake from school meals prior to the pandemic. With schools closing and classes moving online, children’s food insecurity in the United States has reached its highest in decades, the worst impacts of which are felt by Black and Brown populations. In addition, children who experience food insecurity in their elementary school years are more likely to “experience developmental issues” such as motor and social skill deficiencies. [xxxii] COVID-19 has already revealed racial, ethnic, and gender inequalities along almost every line of access to fundamental human rights.

The fact that the overwhelming “charity” of the rich has yet to solve long-term hunger – and in many cases compounds harm in struggling communities by dumping more waste on them – reveals how deeply embedded the challenges of poverty and hunger are in American food systems. Programs like FFFB designed to serve as “win-win-win” opportunities fall short by refusing to acknowledge that the “winning” for families in need further perpetuate their food insecurity by failing to address challenges that lead to hunger in the first place. Moreover, these programs add significant burden to volunteer food banks, while simultaneously creating new and highly profitable markets that by design rely on maintaining populations in poverty. We need to re-evaluate the role of the state and its reliance on food banks to address the roots of hunger and poverty in our modern neoliberal food system that normalizes the overproduction of waste and inequality.

Ìę

Conclusion and Personal Reflections

ÌęIn my own journey to better understanding the issue of food waste, I initially took a similar market-based approach as did Ibach. To address campus food waste, I proposed repurposing bananas that might get discarded as food waste from college cafeterias into healthy ice cream through a social venture initiative. The goal was to create awareness for the issue of food waste and inspire students to question their waste footprint on campus. Learning more about our food system, its supply chains and logistics, however, I began to question whether free-market economy-based solutions would really help solve the fundamental issue of “waste.” Our food system is designed to overproduce, overconsume, and meet the desires of Americans who demand cheap foods. We need to critically re-evaluate these norms in our modern food system in order to guarantee equitable access to healthy and affordable foods.

Market solutions to food waste stemming from our current economic system and its dependency on programs such as the FFFB Program continue the cycle of disparity. To move towards a more regenerative economy that meets food security and nutritional needs, solutions must be addressed from outside of the market system. Individuals must be viewed as citizens rather than consumers, and our economic food system must work for all communities despite class, race, or gender rather than against. Most importantly, this means identifying and amplifying the voices of those on the frontlines, particularly food bank workers and low-income communities of color to better assess their needs and nurture a “just transition” towards food sovereignty, justice, and security for all.

Lawrence Summers, in his laissez-faire paradigm, compares global capital markets to jet planes:

Global capital markets pose the same kinds of problems that jet planes do. They are faster, more comfortable, and they get you where you are going better. But the crashes are more spectacular. [xxxiii]

Planes, and our economy, under Summers’ neo-liberal paradigm run on money: a “fictitious commodity,” as described by Karl Polanyi in his 1944 book, , that replaced the direct exchange of services with a utopic and imagined market commodity and Ìęnow drives human behavior and works outside of our selves. The real fuel that these jet planes run on are the . At some point, nature will either run out of resources and the plane may crash or people may take control of the cockpit and land it safely at a point when we still have time to preserve what is left of our resources.

Relying on privatized food banks to address the food needs of an increasing population of food insecure Americans is both unsustainable and inadequate. Questioning the now prevalent and increasing dependency on food banks is critical to reassert food insecurity and hunger as a top priority on the political agenda. Such critical analysis begins with confronting our own production of food waste and recognizing its intersectionality in the context of class, race, ethnicity, and gender. As the issue of food waste becomes increasingly visible, so will the inequalities entrenched in structural food insecurity that fuel our current food regime. Maine can pioneer these movements to consider social justice implications of waste and re-evaluate its systemic roots within our modern economic system.

References

[i] Walker, T. M., & Schor, E. (2020, April 20). Coronavirus Pandemic Prompts Spike In Demand For Food Pantries. Retrieved from

[ii] Monbiot, G. (2017, November 29). Neoliberalism – the ideology at the root of all our problems. Retrieved from

[iii] Good Shepherd Food Bank of Maine (GSFBM). (2020, August 17). Hunger | Ending Hunger in Maine. Retrieved from

[iv] Myall, J. (2019, December). MECEP Issue Brief: Food Insecurity in Maine. Maine Center for Economic Policy. Retrieved from

[v] United States Department of Agriculture. (2021). Food Waste FAQs. Retrieved from

[vi] Yaffe-Bellany, D., & Corkery, M. (2020, April 11). Dumped Milk, Smashed Eggs, Plowed Vegetables: Food Waste of the Pandemic. Retrieved from

[vii] An Overview of the Farmers to Families Food Box Program: Hearing Before the House Committee on Agriculture, Subcommittee on Nutrition, Oversight, and Department Operations (July 21, 2020) (testimony of Greg Ibach, Under Secretary for Marketing and Regulatory Programs, USDA). Available at:

[viii] Nixon, R. (2013). Slow Violence and the Environmentalism of the Poor (Gld ed.). Cambridge, Massachussetts: Harvard University Press.

[ix] Yaffe-bellany, D., & Corkery, M. (2020, April 11). Dumped Milk, Smashed Eggs, Plowed Vegetables: Food Waste of the Pandemic. Retrieved February 02, 2021, from

[x] An Overview of the Farmers to Families Food Box Program: Hearing Before the House Committee on Agriculture, (testimony of Greg Ibach, Under Secretary for Marketing and Regulatory Programs, USDA).

[xi] U.S. House of Committee on Agriculture, Subcommittee on Nutrition, Oversight, and Departmental Operations Subcommittee. (2020). Letter of Concern Addressing Mismanagement and Political Nature of Farmers to Families Food Box Program. Available at:

[xii] Handforth, B., Hennink, M., & Schwartz, M. B. (2013). A Qualitative Study of Nutrition-Based Initiatives at Selected Food Banks in the Feeding America Network.ÌęJournal of the Academy of Nutrition & Dietetics,Ìę113(3), 411–415.

[xiii] Lohnes, J., & Wilson, B. (2018). Bailing out the food banks? Hunger relief, food waste, and crisis in Central Appalachia.ÌęEnvironment and Planning A: Economy and Space,Ìę50(2), 363.

[xiv] U.S. House of Committee on Agriculture, Subcommittee on Nutrition, Oversight, and Departmental Operations Subcommittee. (2020). Letter of Concern

[xv] Lohnes, J. D. (2020). Regulating surplus: charity and the legal geographies of food waste enclosure.ÌęAgriculture and Human Values, 4.

[xvi] Lohnes, J., & Wilson, B. (2018). Bailing out the food banks? Hunger relief, food waste, and crisis in Central Appalachia.ÌęEnvironment and Planning A: Economy and Space,Ìę50(2), 363.

[xvii] Evich, H. B., and McCrimmon, R. (2020, May 14). Multimillion-dollar food bank delivery contracts go to firms with little experience. Retrieved from

[xviii] An Overview of the Farmers to Families Food Box Program: Hearing Before the House Committee on Agriculture, Subcommittee on Nutrition, Oversight, and Department Operations (July 21, 2020) (testimony of Eric Cooper, President and CEO, San Antonio Food Bank). Available at:

[xix] Pykeren, S. (2020, April 13). These photos show the staggering food bank lines across America. Retrieved from

[xx] Lohnes, J., & Wilson, B. (2018). Bailing out the food banks? Hunger relief, food waste, and crisis in Central Appalachia.ÌęEnvironment and Planning A: Economy and Space,Ìę50(2), 353.

[xxi] Lohnes, J., & Wilson, B. (2018). Bailing out the food banks? Hunger relief, food waste, and crisis in Central Appalachia.ÌęEnvironment and Planning A: Economy and Space,Ìę50(2), 361.

[xxii] L Beagan, B., Chapman, G. E., & Power, E. M. (2016). Cultural and Symbolic Capital With and Without Economic Constraint: Food shopping in low-income and high-income Canadian families.ÌęFood, Culture & Society,Ìę19(1), 59.

[xxiii] L Beagan, B., Chapman, G. E., & Power, E. M. (2016). Cultural and Symbolic Capital With and Without Economic Constraint: Food shopping in low-income and high-income Canadian families.ÌęFood, Culture & Society,Ìę19(1), 64.

[xxiv] Riches, G. (2011). Thinking and acting outside the charitable food box: Hunger and the right to food in rich societies.ÌęDevelopment in Practice,Ìę21(4/5), 768-775. Retrieved December 3, 2020, from

[xxv] Lohnes, J., & Wilson, B. (2018). Bailing out the food banks? Hunger relief, food waste, and crisis in Central Appalachia.ÌęEnvironment and Planning A: Economy and Space,Ìę50(2), 361.

[xxvi] Riches, G. (2011). Thinking and acting outside the charitable food box. 775.

[xxvii] Robaina, K. A., Martin, K. S. (2013) Food Insecurity, Poor Diet Quality, and Obesity among Food Pantry Participants in Hartford, CT, Journal of Nutrition Education and Behavior, 45(2), 159-164.

[xxviii] Bird, M. E. S. (2020). Food Insecurity in the US Increasingly Linked to Obesity. Retrieved from

[xxix] Myers, C. A. (2020, August 7). Trends in Adiposity and Food Insecurity Among US Adults. Retrieved from

[xxx] Bird, M. E. S. (2020). Food Insecurity in the US Increasingly Linked to Obesity. Retrieved from

[xxxi] Bleich, S. J. C. (2020). Why Partisan Politics Keeps 14 Million Hungry Children From Getting the Food They Need. Retrieved from

[xxxii] Bird, M. E. S. (2020). Food Insecurity in the US Increasingly Linked to Obesity

[xxxiii] Emerging markets: costs slow growth. (2014, June 4). Retrieved from

The post Burdening Food Banks with the Charity of Waste appeared first on The Maine Journal of Conservation and Sustainability.

Ecology and Environmental Sciences Department, 91±ŹÁÏ

National Science Foundation Research Traineeship on Conservation Science

Mother Maine

Maine is a place

where I’m leaning into a state of tension.

Clouds flood me as I navigate

where is home.

Who is home here?

She meanders from the shore

to her North woods,

welcoming us to listen to her wisdom.

She introduces us to a dynamic stillness

where many craft images of quiet.

Open space. Salty views. Balsam sweetness.

And I still don’t know where my home is.

I know where a portrait of our mother hangs

in my mind, all the while

she changes every second.

Histories spring from her countryside and fall

into our laps. You’ll find me among

the crashing blues and vibrant reds. At a spot where birds pair off,

I’m coupling my humanity with their nature.

Is this when we name her Everlasting?

Her colors fade a little later,

her summer kisses linger longer, and

her hugs feel warmer than we remember.

Did you and I do this? Perhaps this is her flow

or perhaps her rivers invite us to envision resolutions.

Resilience

The morning sunrise whispers a sweet

change is constant.

If I sit with her mantra, could I rise and fall like her?

The brightness paints something reassuring and terrifying

in its vulnerability for us all to see, dragging a finger in

the sand to shape stress-and-surprise cycles.

Two steps back shift me

two steps in the right direction.

Watching the sure tides,

wanting familiar feelings,

waiting for what’s next,

what if—hear me out—what if we transform?

(May) our goals gift us legs

built to jump back.

If growth were linear, could I pretend it made sense?

The curves connect you and

me, me and them, them and that.

Somewhere, we’ll reap our potential.

Even though it’s messy like wet sneakers on the beach,

it’ll be better than we’ve ever dreamt.

Between Disciplines

A shiny new machine, a little birdy

tells me this is innovation.

He chirps his pitch, yet I’m not quite

sold on how it’s wired when I’mÌę

hardwired to hear a story from

A friend I still haven’t met.

Will you join hands with me and teach me

how to weave your past into our present? Let this

fabric embrace us through seasons of blooms and sheds.

Listening to each other’s rhythm, we uncover budding differences and

color new directions on the map.

Give yourself permission to go ‘cross your field, collecting

tools and something blue,

and I’ll help break ground around that same ol’ song.

Messy entanglements arise

yet with you,

uncertainty

fades away into

renewal.

We dance across silos when I witness

how our collective embodies a promise peeping over the tree line.

Complexity simplifies into a lingua franca, and we begin to trust

how our novel scraps shine brighter than his dull machine.

This material is based upon work supported by the National Science Foundation under Grant No. 1828466.

The post A Collection of Poems: Mother Maine, Resilience, Between Disciplines appeared first on The Maine Journal of Conservation and Sustainability.

One of the most valuable resources in the world today is data. Data volume, velocity, variety, and veracity outline our notion of “big data,” and like a resource extracted from under the ground, big data is “mined” for value using artificial intelligence techniques. Sustainability sciences and practices are rooted in data—both Earth systems data and social data. Whether trying to manage sustainable fisheries or planning climate change adaptation, the move toward big data science has been a paradigm shift with a transformative effect.

Like many new technologies, big data and artificial intelligence are viewed mainly in terms of their immense potential benefit. We read stories about how these tools are detecting tumors and making learning more accessible for people with (dis)abilities. In the tech world, there is huge investment going into data aggregation, storage, and processing infrastructure—often without any idea of what the data will be used for (Raley 2013). The idea is that with enough data and computing clusters, algorithms will find patterns that conventional science cannot. By revealing these new patterns efficiently to business analysts, researchers, and decision makers, big data mining is transforming science and society. Even this article is in the big data stream, to be sucked in by web crawlers and digested by algorithms.

As is often the case, rapid deployment of technology is justified for the potential advances without due consideration of the potential pitfalls. This is why Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein (1818) should be required reading for science degrees. Big data and learning algorithms are already deeply embedded into our everyday lives, and much like with Dr. Frankenstein’s creation, we are now seeing the unintended consequences unfold before our eyes.

To understand how big data could affect sustainability science, we need to understand that data is not objective: humans not only analyze data but engineer the tools and design the research that generates it. By removing humans from a process, one might hope to remove “human error”—so the logic goes. In practice, social systems of inequality such as racism, classism, heteropatriarchy, and ableism are built into the big data landscape. By social systems, we mean the people, institutions, and relationships between them that make up society. Social systems can produce inequalities, imbalances of power influencing every aspect of our lives, including why and how data is produced.

To see how inequality is embedded in data, we can look at well-studied cases from everyday life. For example, when companies have to sort thousands of rĂ©sumĂ©s for jobs, they often automate the process using rĂ©sumĂ©s as a big data resource. Algorithms “learn” patterns by associating certain rĂ©sumĂ© traits with information about which employees are more successful over time. Efficient and cost-effective, the algorithm comes with the veneer of objectivity. However, the people (data points) who have been successful employees in the past are more often those who come from historically privileged groups; algorithmic audits show that a job applicant can lose points based on features like “inferred gender” (gender inferred from other data in the application; Chen et al. 2018). Essentially, inequality is unwittingly built into algorithms and the big data they manipulate so that a process once completed by humans can be automated. No dataset, no matter how extensive, is truly “raw data” (Gitelman & Jackson 2013).

Now that rĂ©sumĂ©-sorting algorithms are ubiquitous, software engineers are playing catch-up, trying to reverse engineer bias out of the system (Raub 2018). Similar big data applications are everywhere, ranging from predictive policing to parole decisions, such as when courts prosecute according to factors like education level that predict whether a defendant will commit another crime. How can “bias” be reverse-engineered when the fact that the algorithm exists is rooted in social systems of inequality? Automation, after all, helps businesses generate more revenue while cutting down on employment and pushes defendants through a broken criminal justice system. With any big data resource, “even the initial collection of data already involves intentions, assumptions, and choices that amount to a kind of pre-processing” (Rosenberg 2013). This preprocessing is magnified by learning algorithms.

In sustainability sciences, where big data and machine learning are quickly becoming standard tools, little is known about how bias and inequality will propagate through to the output. We are pulling in data from satellites, buoys, drifters, weather stations, a wide range of autonomous sensors, fishing logs, and even social media sites, to plug into our algorithms. These data sources are all conceived with certain intentions, assumptions, and choices. Because Earth systems have many interconnected components, we don’t yet know how these biases play out in terms of sustainability. Sustainability is one of the most pressing issues of our time, and we should be asking: where are the hidden biases in our data, and what are their implications?

We can begin by asking what motivates environmental data collection. One aspect of Earth systems data that has potential to introduce bias is that data can be expensive to collect. That tends to mean that access to money drives when and where data collection happens. Even the recent trend in “citizen science” projects often favors participants with access to resources and, of course, access to scientists. The data that winds up being collected often reflects the priorities of those groups. It is in some ways a capital-driven model.

To see a local example of how this might play out, we examined fisheries in the state of Maine. The links between data collection, research, and fishery sustainability are certainly complex, but a simplified way to view the connections is to compare the dollar value of a fishery to the amount of research that has been conducted on that fishery (Figure 1). By looking at the maximum annual dollar value, we have an index of potential motivation for collecting and analyzing data. The amount of research conducted, as papers published, while not a measure of data directly, gives a proxy for how much scientific effort has gone toward understanding that fishery, including surveys, experiments, analysis, etc. While this only shows a first-cut picture, the pattern that emerges has a clear signal: there is a lot more published research on the most monetarily valuable species than there is on the least monetarily valuable species.

In a way, it makes sense—we should be putting more resources toward understanding the parts of the ecosystem that feed us. There is a certain logic to that. But it also means that as we endeavor to understand how the Gulf of Maine ecosystem works, we are doing so through the lens of extraction. Our data is biased toward understanding and sustaining a narrow slice of a complex ecosystem at the expense of the biological diversity that supports it. And as biases in big data are magnified, sustainability is increasingly focused on an ever-narrower slice of the ecosystem. It is easy to find scientifically backed narratives about the sustainability of the hugely valuable lobster fishery (Wilson et al. 2007, Pershing et al. 2018, Goode et al. 2019), but where is that narrative for bloodworms?

The points on Figure 1 tell more stories than just the overarching trend. The species with the most research—Atlantic cod—is only the seventh most monetarily valuable according to these metrics. However, this species was valuable on a historic scale until it collapsed around the end of the twentieth century. In addition to the time dynamic, there are many other caveats one could consider. The data are, after all, mined from other sources and aggregated for other purposes. Still, they reflect a pattern that shows up in global data: it’s not the most productive or the keystone fish species that are associated with the highest research output but instead a few highly valuable fish species (Aksnes & Browman 2016). There has long been a recognition that sustainable fisheries management should be founded on ecosystem science (Frid et al. 2006). Ecosystems have stabilizing characteristics like resilience and resistance and can dampen the boom-and-bust population swings of single species. But if our data collection, experimentation, monitoring, and analyses are driven so heavily by fisheries’ monetary value, we might benefit a limited number of fisheries, for a limited length of time, but we also stand to miss out on the holistic understanding that we need to sustain the ecosystem for the long haul.

The influence of big data biases extends well beyond fisheries. Climate change is possibly the most fundamental challenge to sustainability at present. Decisions are being made about mitigation and adaptation, and those decisions are based on data that can span either broad or very narrow swaths of society and the environment. For example, early warning services, which can reduce damage from climate-related events like storms or heat waves by around 30%, rely heavily on on-the-ground observational data, for which there are substantial gaps in developing countries. Building resilience tools like early warning systems from data like this will help, but also preferentially advantage, those places where there is advanced data infrastructure.

Another way to ask the question about biases in big data is: how does the use of particular data magnify power imbalances? Answering this question is more than just a statistical puzzle, and it involves more work than the simplified Google search of fisheries research shown here. Bias is a property of any data. The datasets we draw from to answer sustainability questions are extremely diverse, collected for a range of different purposes and motivations, and show us a range of points of view. As we pull all of these datasets together, and apply algorithms to them, there is a risk of magnifying the biases that underlie the data. The emerging field of Environmental Data Justice gives a framework for starting to address questions of data bias and power imbalances (Vera et al. 2019). The question fundamentally requires an approach that integrates natural and social sciences with a rigorous quantitative underpinning. It’s an important step if we hope to avoid the unintended consequences of hidden data bias that have befallen so many other applications.

References

Aksnes DW, Browman HI. An overview of global research effort in fisheries science. ICES Journal of Marine Science. 2016 Mar 1;73(4):1004-11.

Chen L, Ma R, HannĂĄk A, Wilson C. Investigating the impact of gender on rank in resume search engines. InProceedings of the 2018 chi conference on human factors in computing systems 2018: 1-14.

Frid CL, Paramor OA, Scott CL. Ecosystem-based management of fisheries: is science limiting?. ICES Journal of Marine Science. 2006 Jan 1;63(9):1567-72.

Gitelman L, Jackson V. Introduction. In: Gitelman L, editor. Raw data is an oxymoron. MIT press; 2013:1-14.

Goode AG, Brady DC, Steneck RS, Wahle RA. The brighter side of climate change: How local oceanography amplified a lobster boom in the Gulf of Maine. Global change biology. 2019, 25(11):3906-17.

Pershing AJ, Mills KE, Dayton AM, Franklin BS, Kennedy BT. Evidence for adaptation from the 2016 marine heatwave in the Northwest Atlantic Ocean. Oceanography. 2018, 31(2):152-61.

Raub M. Bots, bias and big data: artificial intelligence, algorithmic bias and disparate impact liability in hiring practices. Ark. L. Rev.. 2018;71-529.

Raley R. Dataveillance and countervailance. In: Gitelman L, editor. Raw data is an oxymoron. MIT press; 2013: 121-145.

Rosenberg D. Data before the fact. In: Gitelman L, editor. Raw data is an oxymoron. MIT press; 2013: 15-40.

Shelley MW. Frankenstein, or, the Modern Prometheus : the 1818 Text. Oxford ; New York : Oxford University Press, 1998.

Vera LA, Walker D, Murphy M, Mansfield B, Siad LM, Ogden J, EDGI. When data justice and environmental justice meet: formulating a response to extractive logic through environmental data justice. Information, Communication & Society. 2019 Jun 7;22(7):1012-28.

Wilson J, Yan L, Wilson C. The precursors of governance in the Maine lobster fishery. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences. 2007 Sep 25;104(39):15212-7.

About the Authors

Nick Record is a Senior Research Scientist at Bigelow Laboratory for Ocean Sciences.ÌęHe is an oceanographer and data scientist and directs the Center for Ocean Forecasting.ÌęLourdes Vera is a PhD Candidate at Northeastern University in the Department ofÌęSociology and Anthropology. She is also on the coordinating committee and co-coordinates the Environmental Enforcement Watch project with the Environmental DataÌęand Governance Initiative.

The post Uncovering Big Data Bias in Sustainability Science appeared first on The Maine Journal of Conservation and Sustainability.

Climate Change Institute, 91±ŹÁÏ

Spruce-Fir Broom-moss Forest, Daicey Pond, September 2019

Falls along Howe Brook, May 2005

Early Fall on the Traveler Loop Trail, September 2011

Katahdin from Tracy Pond, September 2009

About the Author

Sean Birkel is a research assistant professor and the Maine State Climatologist, based at the 91±ŹÁÏ Climate Change Institute.Ìę His research includes climate analysis, modeling, and data visualization.Ìę Sean is the developer of , and is also working towards building the as a resource for Maine stakeholders.Ìę While his research is primarily computer-based, as a graduate student he participated in field research in the Dry Valleys, Antarctica and in the Wind River Range, Wyoming.Ìę Sean is a hiker and photographer and enjoys the Maine outdoors.

Faculty profile:

The post Art Series: Baxter State Park appeared first on The Maine Journal of Conservation and Sustainability.

Mount Katahdin as viewed from Compass Pond. October 2020

Potato Island, Jericho Bay. August 2020

ÌęLazygut Island, Jericho Bay. August 2020

Acadia National Park. January 2021

About the Author

Glaciologist and photographer Mariusz Potocki is completing his doctorate degree at the 91±ŹÁÏ. He has participated in over 20 research expeditions around the world to recover ice cores that shed light on the changing climate. Most recently, he participated in the 2019 National Geographic and Rolex Perpetual Planet Everest Expedition, where he and Sherpa colleagues drilled the highest-elevation ice core ever recovered (8,030 m), which will provide the first view of past climate in the lower stratosphere.
As a field scientist, he is always guided by a respect for research, safety, the local inhabitants, and their culture. However, when possible during expeditions, Potocki also documents the beauty of landscapes and the natural environment. His photographs have won numerous awards across international contests. As an avid mountaineer, spelunker, and diver, he aims to share the spectacular beauty of remote destinations through his unique and artistic photographs.

The post Art Series: Views of Maine appeared first on The Maine Journal of Conservation and Sustainability.

The surf is audible from the trail head, also the erratic hooting of an offshore buoy. I stumble over raised roots, turn right at the fork.Ìę

The trees part at the first lookout. The water below is high and white, moving in all directions as it fills the tight cove at the base of the cliff. Clouds in tones of gray are broad and dark over Grand Manan across the channel, light and breaking overhead. Sun glows on the bridge of my nose.

Treading east through coastal woods the trail winds beneath a pine with a Seussian arm that has outlived its trunk, spiraling its way to the canopy. At the boulder field the view falls away to cliff’s edge. My chest vibrates with the sonic ruminations of waves shattering across granite faces, vaporizing into glitter and froth, invisibly digesting.

Further along, a side trail leads to a rock and pebble beach that crackles and pops like candy as each wave recedes. Every fourth swell rolls the ocean further ashore and deepens the grayness of the pebbles it washes. A 20-foot ship cuts white across the mouth of the cove. I hail, but we’re too far apart to connect.

The last half-mile hugs the side of a forested slope where birches shed their skins, one dead with a dry, black wound. Fallen trunks scattered over the forest floor are gradually entombed in moss. Uphill, sunlight darts in through a fence of leafless boughs and branches. The trail circles back on itself and leads me out.

The post Observations at Boot Head Preserve in January appeared first on The Maine Journal of Conservation and Sustainability.

Creeper, Brown

Indexed so in Sibley’s splendid

bird book as if there were other

Creepers, Blue and Red or Iridescent.

It lives, vertical and shy, on tree trunks.

Minute, quick, and to say what I saw

takes longer than the instant

a Brown Creeper took a bath inÌę

a still place in hillside run-off nearÌę

dusk on a December day.Ìę

It splashed and flut-flutted its wings,

shook itself so droplets flew andÌę

caught the low light, and for a nano-second

it bathed in a misty rainbow. So

utterly small and private with no

need of me to see, or say its name

it flew up, landed,Ìę

fluffed itself twice,Ìę

preened and flew away.

Outside

We didn’t know what killed the deer, butÌę

that winter morning the carcass lay between our dirt road

and the lake. No choice but to leave it then watch

kite-winged crows then ravens feed

then days later one brindle coyote andÌę

that night even with glass panes between, a shiverÌę

as the pack’s yaps and yammers fed the atavistic

fear that we were cowering in the Arctic darkÌę

in a snow house. In the morning the carcass lay twisted,

bare backbone and rib cage a crumpledÌę

dismembered wreckage.

And then two eagles came. All that afternoon

they worked to drag the carcass

off the land onto the ice beating their wingsÌę

to pull then eat then dig in talons and flap

with huge and mighty strokes to move it again andÌę

eat till only scattered bones and hide remainedÌę

in the stark hierarchy and secret elegance

of nature’s economy.

Guilt Trip

In her basement this SaturdayÌę

the countrywoman, retired, starts to collect stuffÌę

to take to the dump. Somehow she has never

bought ‘transfer station’ and wondersÌęÌę

where it’s all transferred to and has a few ideas

but won’t ask for fear they’ll tell her and

she’ll turn inside-out with guilt.Ìę

She eyes the four trash bags

of returnable ‘bottles’ that she thinksÌę

of as metonymy for all the milk and juice and beer

and designer sparkling water and just plain

water from the water thieves at Poland Spring

a.k.a. Nestlé that just the two of them have consumed.

Briefly she thinks of her good well water

and feels the familiar flinch of guilt.

She’s been worn thin by requests

to save the Arctic Wildlife Refuge andÌę

the Indonesian pygmy rhino and

the Furbish lousewort andÌę

because she was born with a dominant responsibility

gene she shorts out and can do

nothing about any of it. Then she thinks

How grocery shopping fries her

choice synapses and although her education

tells her no blueberries or swordfish fromÌę

Peru or Chile, there’s beef andÌę

penitentiary chicken and whether the coffee

is shade grown and is what she wants

responsibly source (which means?) including

plant- based everything and how much

she dislikes soy. Her exhaustionÌę

and the dilemmas are existential. All that

Kicks in as she looks at the four trash bags.

She knows she will have to take them

to the Redemption Center 25 miles awayÌę

where she will stand in line and thinkÌę

what Redemption for her might mean andÌę

how to ask for it. She knowsÌę

she is far from it, often beyond it, and smiles

when she thinks of the mileage andÌę

the inner struggles she could use Redemption for.

This morning she loads the bottles and the trashÌę

together to skip the drive and liveÌę

with the guilt of adding to the landfillÌę

maybe offset by her having

a smaller carbon footprint for the day.

Turning in, she sees a row of green plastic

trash cans next to the compactor

with a hand-lettered black on red sign

that says ‘Bottle Drop to Benefit

Boy Scouts.’

She pulls over, puts her head on her hands

on the steering wheel and laughs andÌę

laughs until she cries and

Ed the dump guy walks over and

taps on her window to asks if

she’s ok.

For information regarding recycling reform in Maine, check out the PDF link below:
Recycling Reform Facts

The post A Collection of Poems: Creeper, Brown; Outside; Guilt Trip appeared first on The Maine Journal of Conservation and Sustainability.