On entitlement

A couple of days ago, I was listening to an episode of On Being. The guest was Barbara Kingsolver, and she was talking to Krista Tippett about the ethics of eating. Barbara Kingsolver used to live in Phoenix along with her husband and two children, but then decided to move her family to a farm in Virginia, which they had been regularly going to for several years. The reason why she moved was because she realised that the food that her family was eating was coming from very far away, and that from an ecological perspective, this was terribly damaging. She is right, of course. And so over the next year, she and her family grew their own food, prepared everything themselves, ate seasonally, and so on. What struck me most, though, was the fact that rather than staying in the Sun Belt of the US in Arizona, (which has the second fastest growth rate of all states in the US...consider the fact that between 1990 and 2000, the population of the Phoenix metropolitan area grew by 45%) she moved away from it, recognising its role in the unsustainable society we've created for ourselves.

Places like Arizona and the arid West have bloomed from damming of rivers, there is no doubt about this. Yet while people have been moving in droves to these places, their expectations have remained the same. Wherever we go, we want what we've had in other places, and if this comes at the detriment of the environment, then so be it. Take a look at this picture of suburbia in the Phoenix area, which shows parts of Ahwatukee, Chandler, Gilbert West Valley, SW Valley, Scottsdale, and Mesa. You see most every house accompanied with a lawn, maybe with some desert vegetation. And so even when we move to an arid region, we expect our physical landscape to look like that from the water-rich Midwest. In places like Phoenix, outdoor water use for things like lawn account for two-thirds of resident's water use. As Chris Martin, a horticulture professor at Arizona State University mentions, "If you withhold water, desert plants do use less water, but your yard looks like a desert. So there's this big paradox. People say,' Well, I'll plant desert vegetation, but I want it to look green and healthy, so I'll irrigate it so it grows like crazy.'"

There is an entitlement that pervades this culture, an entitlement that allows us to conflate our rights and our wants. Clearly, having a green lawn in Phoenix is a want. But the fact that water from the Colorado River is being channeled to Phoenix under the facade of abundance allows us to demand, almost righteously, that the water be available for whatever we want to use it for. This is the same entitlement that allows us to not think twice before eating a strawberry in winter. It is the entitlement that allows a continued export of a materialistic "development" philosophy to other parts of the world, in the expectation of course that it will benefit us more than it will benefit them. In the end, however, we all lose with this philosophy. Our right to freedom does not allow us to freely destroy. Further, our entitlement to this freedom doesn't mean that the way we've behaved so far is the only way we should behave. What we must do is break from this entitled, abundant past, and accept and embrace a scarce future. We cannot continue to expect that we can have both ecological protection and rejuvenation and a continuation of the lifestyle we've grown accustomed to, indeed, entitled to.

Traveling at home: A bike ride through farmland

This summer, Matt and I signed up for a farm share through a community-supported agriculture programme. We started receiving our shares from Needle Lane Farms, from Titpon, MI, a couple of weeks ago. I feel fortunate to have access to such a wonderful programme. If you aren't providing yourself with food, knowing where something as basic as where your food comes from can go a long way in envisioning a different future for our neighbourhoods and communities. I truly believe that. So, I wanted to go and check out the farm, to actually see the food that I eat be grown and cared and tended for.

Matthew (different guy) and I decided to bike out to Tipton, which is around thirty miles from Ann Arbor. Matthew is from Tecumseh, which is just on the way to Tipton, and so we decided to see his family and check out the farm on Saturday, and bike back Sunday. On the way there, we of course got sidetracked and ended up in Milan, itself twenty-plus miles from Tecumseh, where we stopped for a beer and a root beer and a grilled cheese sandwich at Original Gravity Brewing Company.

The taps at Original Gravity Brewing Company

We eventually ended up in Tipton, and there met Beverly, my farmer, her partner John, and Zane, an energetic six year old who lives on the farm and helps out. Beverly, who is five months pregnant with her first, said that Needle Lane Farms is a third-generation, seventy acre farm, with all organic, non-GMO produce. Beverly, who graduated from Michigan State University, knew from a very young age that she wanted to take care of the farm, and so recently, she bought it from her father. She showed us around the farm, talked about the various kinds of soil, the plants, and her philosophy. I pick my share up from Morgan & York in Ann Arbor on Tuesday afternoon, and she mentioned that she wakes up at five a.m. that very day to pick the vegetables to make sure that they are as fresh as possible. One thing she said struck me - "When I go to bed at night, I feel really good." I sincerely appreciate her efforts, and could not ask for a more thoughtful person to be responsible, truly responsible, for the food that I eat and feed to others.

Matthew

Zane

Beverly, John, Zane, and Matthew

An important piece

 

The ride to Milan to Tecumseh and back to Ann Arbor was on the order of seventy-five miles - seventy-five miles of small towns and open farmland and barns and horses and azure sky. For miles at a time, we were the only people on the road; we biked down the middle of the road. We biked through Cone, Britton, Morseville, Clinton, Macon and a bunch of other little towns, quaint and idyllic. It is really nice living in Ann Arbor, where nature and pasture are never too far away.

Barn along the way

Downtown Tecumseh

Traveling at home: Ypsilanti with Tim

I have been to Ypsilanti, the home of Eastern Michigan University, several times before. It is has a different pace and atmosphere compared to Ann Arbor, although it is just a few miles away. There is much culturally going on there, and its Riverside Park is home to the Michigan Summer Beer Festival. I went there today, this time in travel mode, with Tim. We had a quite beautiful time there.

As you enter Ypsilanti via Washtenaw Avenue, you are greeted by one of the more phallic water towers of the world. Nadia even told me it was known throughout Germany! We started off at the Ugly Mug, a cool coffee shoppe within walking distance of Eastern's campus, close to the historic Depot Town.

There, I met Linda, who was sitting at the bar. She got a BFA in photography, and loves doing creative things. She manages a gallery and art store in Ann Arbor, actually, the one right across the street from Conor O'Neills. Our conversation focused on Southeast Michigan, which is where she's spent her life so far...

Where do you live and where do you call home?

"I was born in Plymouth-Canton, and moved to Ypsilanti when I was eighteen to come to school. I actually lived right across the street from here, on Adams, when I was in Ypsilanti. My boyfriend is still active in local theatre here. Now I live in Whitmore Lake. I consider Whitmore Lake home. I moved there in 2006 because the schools are a better fit for my son. It is a quieter and safer place. My sister is out there, too." Whitmore Lake is a small community just a few miles north of Ann Arbor; it is a wonderful bike ride away.

What do you love about where you call home?

"I love how you can move between the city, the suburbs and the country in a short time. I also love the people here. There's a great mixture of people, some I get along with, and some I don't. There are people of all social and economic statuses, a lot of unexpected people. Like you. I never expected to be talking to a stranger today."

How has this area changed, culturally and environmentally, over time?

"The area has become a lot more liberal over time. There's a lot more art and music, not just in Ann Arbor or Detroit. There isn't a big gap anymore. Maybe it is the technology, maybe the people...There is definitely a lot less of the environment visible today. When I was growing up, between Plymouth-Canton and Ypsilanti, there were only dirt roads and farms. Now there are subdivisions and car dealerships and box stores everywhere. I am not a huge fan of sprawl. There are definitely fewer farms and woods. I feel like in that sense, this place has lost its character. Canton just sort of blends in now, and has lost its uniqueness. Ypsilanti, though, seems to have held together pretty tightly. There's not a lot of corporate stuff in this town."

What is unique about this place? What should I definitely check out? What should I observe there?

"The river. And the park area...Riverside and Frog Island. Not a lot of places have a river running through the middle of them. There is a bridge under a bridge. Anywhere on that bridge, just stand there. There's also an outdoor amphitheatre in Frog Island that should be used more...Definitely go to La Fiesta Familia, the Mexican restaurant just up the road. I've been going there for years and have gotten to know the family very well. I always order the same thing every time..."

Tim and I walked over to the bridge under the bridge. I had never noticed it! Nor have I seen anything else like it. It is beautiful; the river is flanked by Depot Town and a beautiful old women's dorm on either side. The river was gushing with rains on the watershed. We saw the amphitheatre, too.

Tim and I also walked into Depot Town. It definitely seems like history stares you more in the face in Ypsilanti than in Ann Arbor. Both Tim and I felt that we were kind of walking back through time in Ypsilanti. They've done a wonderful job at creating little spaces, and there are signs and plaques everywhere talking about the history of the town. There are little nooks hidden in the peace of the town. I know that most students that pass through Ann Arbor never make it out to Ypsilanti, which is just ten minutes away. Tim and I had a wonderful afternoon there.

Food packaging and trash

"For 365 days, every time Tim Gaudreau threw something away he photographed it...Everything photographed was his average, daily consumption. And most of it was food packaging (emphasis added)."

As I mentioned a while ago, I quickly realised, after starting the no trash-ness, that most of the trash I generated came from food packaging. As I also mentioned, the People's Food Coop and the Farmer's Market has been instrumental in allowing me to live trash-free. Another way to go trash free is to just grow your own food. I am most glad to say that the bumper harvest from Krista and my little farm yesterday has greatly contributed to my project. Take a look! Arugula, lettuce, radicchio, jalapeno, habanero, serrano, thai basil, sweet basil, and lemon basil...