Box Elders

On February 10th, I attended a panel on Literature, Race, and Nature. The English department brought in a guest writer Camille Dungy to speak, and she was joined by Sarah Spurgeon and Priscilla Ybarra. I took a class on Gender, Race, and Nature in Environmental Writing by Dr. Spurgeon last semester, and am taking an Environmental Literature and Legislation course with Dr. Ybarra this semester. Both professors have been excellent and their classes thought provoking. The discussion was very deep and thought provoking. I want to share a few of their thoughts and my own.


Literature, Race, and the Environment
The Literature the three professors examine can be broken down into many classifications. Dr. Spurgeon researches Literature of the Southwest, Dr. Ybarra Chicana/Chicano Literature, and Camille Dungy Black edited a book on African American Nature Poetry. Though they study this classification of literature, they also look at how their authors write about the environment. Dr. Ybarra and Spurgeon pointed out that there isn't a lot of room in environmental or nature writing for people of color.
There are many reasons for disparity. An audience member suggested that people only want a certain type of nature writing. Dr. Spurgeon took this idea a step further and said the ideal form of nature writing is a lone white man conquering the forest. We can be particular about nature writing because often we want a “nice story.” The story of people of color is not as “nice.” These people—African Americans, Chicanos, American Indians— worked the land as a living, were often forced from it, and at some points in history were considered property like the land. Many do not want to hear this story of the environment.

Stories
All three professors stressed how important the stories and poems of the people of color are. Environmental issues are unique in that they cross boundaries of ethnicity, race, gender, sexual orientation, and socioeconomic class and can unite people in a common cause. In order for this to happen, all voices must be heard, and all stories told. From this discussion, there is one story in particular that spoke to me. Camille Dungy told us a story about a box elder she found while living in Virginia. The box elder was growing in the filtration unit of a pool. She thought this was odd and asked around about the history of the tree. After much inquiry and research, she learned that the pool used to be a public pool. During the late 60s and early 70s, black children had wanted to swim in it. Rather than desegregate the pool, the town decided to close it down. Dungy found the tree both remarkable and haunting. Remarkable in that it had such a rich history, but haunting in seeing a tree linked with segregation. Thousands of African Americans lost their lives in trees.
One of the questions I need to answer for this paper is what I gained from attending. It’s hard to define what one gains from moments of impassioned speech (an audience member from the East Side of Lubbock gave a small monologue on how she wanted books that talked to her and how she never could relate to Shakespeare) or discussions about the relationship between African Americans and the landscapes they were once enslaved in. Since I have to define it, I would say the hour I spent listening to the panel gave me knowledge about a different cultures and experiences I have never had. I heard lines of poetry that were beautiful and stories that gave box elders a new meaning.